#if this was a darker series then shit would get out of hand so fast!!!

[starheirxero]

places chin in hands. do you guys ever think about how, in-universe, TSAMS is kinda psychological thriller/horror-y?

Like. We watch it from the outside, duh, but it's literally canon that the characters are always being recorded by a third party and they never know which parts of their life will be uploaded for thousands of people to see.

It isn't a detail that's ever focused on because honestly, if it was, everything would probably just spiral and then explode or something. But I think about it a lot.

[theitgirlnetwork]

Earn it

Ch. 1: You Boys Really Like to Play Doubles

Note: Okayyy another one in the lineup. Now that I'm back in my account I think I am going to make an update schedule. I hope you all enjoy this new series along with the others and let me know what you think. This first chapter is mostly backstory building but this story is my chance to be messy lol. It will have spoilers for challengers, but also a lot of things are changed. Please feel free to interact and give feedback (constructively) it inspires me to hear from you all. This obsession came fast so I feel like I already have so many ideas for these characters. This one is short because I was dipping my toe in but they will get longer! The aesthetic board for this story will be on the masterlist in a couple hours! Thank you and enjoy!

Tashi Duncan is an athlete. Hell, she’s the athlete. Of their arena. Of their time. She’s good. Great. Passionate. Beautiful…in the words of Art.

Sexy as shit in the words of Patrick and just about every other man who managed to lay eyes on her. She’s something to marvel at. And they did. Marvel. Art and Patrick stand there, jaws slack, eyes locked on the girl as she moves about the dancefloor absently. It’s like the opposite of how she moves on the court. There she’s a predator. Moving quickly, calculated, with strength. Here she’s graceful, eyes closed and enjoying the motions.

It’s their chance. A chance to meet her. To flirt with her. Con her out of her number when she wanders away from the group of women she’s dancing with over to the couches to retrieve her drink. It’d be easier to talk to her alone. They do their best work in a double, and as far as they knew, she had no partner. As far as they knew. 

And they’re basking in her attention. Taking turns in a whole new match. When one gets the gift of her gaze the other’s smile drops like a puppy waiting for its turn to be played with, her easy smirk resting comfortably on her face the whole time. Until she comes.

“Made some friends?”

The two of them can’t help but have the same thought. Art was admittedly more ashamed to have it but they both had it. There’s two of them.

“These guys are in the tournament. They play tomorrow.” Tashi smiles, holding her hand out to the girl and helping her step over the table so she can sit down next to her. Both men offer her their own hand to help her the rest of the way but she simply squeezes Tashi’s harder. 

Patrick and Art don’t know where to look. Before the girl’s arrival Tashi was the only person worthy of admiration here. She’s stunning, abnormally beautiful. But so was her friend. She had a darker complexion, with full lips coupled with a pretty smile. She tosses her silky dark hair over her shoulder, exposing more shiny skin. Her pink, strapless dress compliments Tashi’s royal blue one so much that even two men with no knowledge of women’s fashion would guess the choice was purposeful. They exchange looks as the women cross their legs in sync, Tashi handing her half-drunk beverage to her friend who rolls her eyes with a small as the boys’ eyes drop to her mouth. “Are they any good?”

Tashi hums thoughtfully, tilting her head lightly as if she needed to observe them to determine that. “From what I hear? Sometimes.”

“Not good like you though.”

That takes them aback for a moment. I mean, Tashi just won a tournament, she’s proven herself enough to pass judgment, all this girl has proven to them is that she’s hot. Who’s she to decide that they weren’t in the same league as Tashi. They weren’t, but who was she?

“You, uh, know that just from looking at us?” Art asks, finding himself sitting straighter at the scrutiny, the unimpressed looks on the two girls' faces getting to him as he wonders what it would take to change them.

All the girl offers is a shrug and a small smile around the straw, earning her a giggle from Tashi. 

“You know, we didn’t get a chance to see your match. What’s your name again?” Partick’s brows furrow as he glances between his friend and the two women. 

The smile drops from her face and her lips curve into a frown, cheek dimpling in a way that almost has the men forgetting she’d insulted them. “Wow.” she scoffs.

“You’ve got balls. You came to my party to talk shit to my best friend?”

That has them scrambling, stuttered half apologies from Art and sarcastic denials from Patrick. Anything they could blurt out to convince Tashi and her mystery friend to stay. All of it interrupted by their burst of giggles. 

“We’re just fucking with you.” The girl leans her head back against the cushion, puffing out laughter that makes Art’s head feel like it’s swimming. He blinks at the feeling and takes his own deep breath. “I’m Heaven, I’m nobody, I don’t play tennis.”

“Nobody? You don’t seem like nobody.” He doesn’t even recognize his own voice when he says it. 

“Nobody is nobody.” Patrick cuts in.

Tashi gives the girl a disapproving look that would put ice in the mens’ veins, pursing her lips in agitation briefly before turning back to the guys in front of them. “She’s Heaven Whitlock, she’s my best friend, and the best fuckin’ ballerina in the world.” 

Heaven lifts and drops her shoulder noncommittally, taking a deep sip of the drink. “Yeah. I’m the best fuckin’ ballerina in the world.”

The girls left soon after that so that Tashi could take pictures and once they were done, they were pleased to discover that the boys had waited to hang out with them more. The group made their way down to the beach and found themselves talking about all sorts of things. Life, Tashi’s earlier match, tennis as a spirituality. They were shocked to learn that Heaven knew a lot about the sport and could even play a little. But based on how they described it, she only knew enough to help Tashi train. 

Patrick felt aggravated and outnumbered by the fact that all three of the others were going to college. 

“Okay, so she doesn’t want her only skill to be hitting a ball with a racket. What the hell are you going to school for Miss Ballerina?”

“Train. I can get better.” Heaven shrugs. “Get my name out there too, before I join a company I mean.” 

“Can we see something?” Art blurts from his seat, shaking out the ash from his cigarette. “Like your favorite trick or-”

Heaven’s face lights up slightly. Her back has been straight up all night, her shoulders rolled back with poise, but she perks up in excitement at the thought of the opportunity to dance. “I like doing Fouette turns-”

“Heaven, in sand?” Tashi whips her head to look at her friend. “You don’t even have your shoes. You have your first audition for your school’s fall show when we get back don’t you?”

Heaven rolls her glossed lips inward, nodding, eyes dropping to the sand briefly before they return to the men in front of her. “Maybe another time.”

“Another time. There’s gonna be another time?” Patrick leans back in his seat, looking between the two women smugly. “Does that mean I’m gonna hear from you two again?”

“I’ll see Art at Stanford. Heaven will visit.” 

“He’s asking for your numbers.” Art offers. “So am I.”

Heaven’s brows furrow as she stands dusting sand off her hands before she helps pull Tashi to her feet. “Both of you?”

“Yep.”

“Want both of our numbers?”

“Yeah, pretty much.”

“Oh, you boys really like to play doubles, huh?” She’s met with cheeky smiles and a shrug from Tashi. “Well, I have a boyfriend, so…” she grins, gesturing to Tashi. “May the best one win boys.”

The boys crane their necks briefly to follow Heaven’s walk up the hill, her sandals in hand, watching as she turns expectantly, holding out her other hand for Tashi to come up and take. They barely get out their offer for Tashi to come to their room later before she’s making her way up the hill. Her long legs carry her to her friend, whose hand she takes before swinging their arms back and forth, singing along together to whatever song is playing in the distance together.

As soon as they’re out of sight Patrick whips his head to face Art, a wild smirk on his face. 

“Which one do you want?”

“So…which one’s your favorite?” 

“Patrick’s got more natural talent, that’s for sure, but he’s stubborn, doesn’t wanna learn anything new. Art- what?” Tashi tilts her head at her friend’s scoff, moving to sit next to her at the small desk chair, watching as her friend rubs lotion into her face. “What?”

“Nothing, T, tell me about Art.” Heaven laughs, shaking her head. Tennis. Always about tennis. Poor boys. 

“Art wants it more right now. And he’s good. Could be great." She stands walking over to the closet and tugging on her jacket. “You set your alarm?”

“4:30, T. Gotta get our run in and practice for my audition before the tournaments start.” 

“Mm, good girl.” she smiles, dropping a kiss onto the top of Heaven’s head. “I’ll have my key.”

“You’re really going? You’re gonna go to their room?” Heaven turns in the seat and watches Tashi put on her shoes. The brunette pauses to look at her friend, walking over and crouching in front of her. Her hands rest on Heaven’s legs as she looks up at her.

“You jealous?”

“Want me to be?” Heaven asks, leaning her forehead against Tashi’s with a defiant look on her face. “I know you’re not gonna fuck them.”

“Really?” Tashi hums absently. “We’ll see. I’ll be back later. Why don’t you call Trevor while you have the room to yourself.”

With that she pats Heaven’s legs, pushing off of the floor and leaving her alone in the hotel room. 

Heaven takes her best friend’s advice. She calls her boyfriend. It was a mistake.

Trevor hates Tashi. He hates tennis. He hates dance. He hates everything. 

He didn’t use to. He used to think the girl’s dedication was cool. He used to love to come to showcases, recitals, even some of Tashi’s tournaments. But then he realized his place in everything. His place in Heaven’s life. Dance and Tashi, those two things would always come before him.

That’s the hard lesson everyone always had to learn. Tashi was always gonna win when it came to tennis and Heaven. Tashi was Heaven’s first…period. First best friend, first kiss, they’d taken each other’s virginities. They met in middle school. Heaven had been at the community center gym with her mother, running and doing weight training while her mom took a zumba class. Out on the court was Tashi. Beautiful and focused as ever. Heaven chose a treadmill that she could watch Tashi practice out the window from. She’d been startled when the taller girl came into the building and stood next to her machine and asked her if she knew anything about tennis and if she wanted to play. 

She wasn’t good. Tashi was determined to make her good enough to play with. Soon enough they were inseparable. Heaven would sit in the stands at Tashi’s games, yelling as loud as the girl playing when she won. Tashi would go to see Heaven dance, offering her applause when she won awards or starred in a show. Having Tashi was intense, but Heaven was intense too, in her own right. They were both passionate about their crafts, and loved the art of working hard. They liked making each other proud. 

Tashi was Heaven’s first everything except her first love. That was dance. Her muscles stretching into beautiful motions. Using her body to tell all kinds of stories. Becoming someone else entirely over the course of a song. Heaven would die if she couldn’t dance. 

She doesn’t feel like that about Trevor. He was a sweet guy, and she liked him. Despite Tashi’s constant digs that he wasn’t good enough or amounting to anything, Heaven liked him. Not everything has to be an intense feeling. Content can be good enough. I can be satisfied with content. 

But Trevor wished she would be normal. He wished she wasn’t so close to Tashi. He wished she wasn’t constantly working at something. At least that’s what he said when he dumped her over the phone. 

“Trev-Trevor. Trevor are you fucking serious?” 

Dial tone. 

Heaven’s lip curls up in frustration as she feels her eyes watering. She throws her phone against the wall, hearing the distinct crack of the screen. “Fuck. Fucking shit.” She…needs Tashi.

Pulling a baggy t-shirt over her sport’s bra and underwear she goes to the bathroom and rids herself of any evidence that she’d been crying before she heads to the room Tashi told her she’d be in. She creeps past her friend’s dad’s door so she doesn’t wake him and alert him that neither she nor Tashi were in bed. As she gets off the elevator on the boys’ floor she straightens as she goes to knock on the door, hearing the faint sounds of lips smacking and moaning. 

That makes her feel worse then she did when Trevor told her she wasn’t worth the hassle.

Heaven turns on her heel and goes back to the elevator. Her bare feet pad on the rug of the hotel hallway as she wraps her arms around herself until she gets back to her door. 

She ties her scarf around her hair before climbing into the bed the girls had been sharing, facing the window. The blinds rattle as the wind blows and the quiet tears on Heaven’s face are dry by the time Tashi slips into the room and into the bed behind Heaven. 

The bed dips slightly under her weight and suddenly hands are planted onto Heaven’s side. “Hev, I’m back…I had fun. Come on, I know you’re awake.”

“Cool.”

“I hooked up with them.”

Heaven turns then, laying on her back as Tashi leans over her, her hair making a curtain around her. “Which one?”

“Hmm…both. We didn’t have sex or anything but…I made out with both of them…and then they made out with each other. S’fun.” Tashi grins, flopping on her back next to her friend.

“They…ever done that before?”

“Nope” she smiles, popping the ‘p’ loudly. Both girls burst out into laughter as they think about the difference between their friendship and the two boys they met, so similar yet so different.

“You’re evil. You fucking homewrecker.”

“Ahh, they’ll be alright. It’ll be a good fuckin’ match tomorrow…winner gets my number.” 

Oh. 

“Trevor dumped me today.” 

Tashi turns on her side at that. Her ever-inspecting eyes scan Heaven’s face before narrowing a little. “No bullshit? Good fucking riddance. Should’ve dumped him when I told you to. Damn, would’ve been an even better match if I knew that earlier. Imagine how they’d play if the stakes were the winner gets both of us at the same time.” She laughs, putting her legs under the blankets. “It’d be fucking funny.”

“Yeah, T. Fucking hilarious.”

Tashi is at the courts by 5 am the next morning, and Heaven is running on the beach. She normally loves training with here friend, but right now, she needs a fucking break. Being drilled about the audition or talking about this deathmatch for Tashi’s phone number doesn’t feel like something she wants to do right now.

Still, her and Tashi’s workout playlist blasts in her ears as she fights the sand’s resistance, panting out breaths to Lose My Breath by Destiny’s Child. That is until she sees something moving out of the corner of her eye. 

It’s the blond one. She wasn’t sure which one’s name was which, but to her, the blond one was the cuter one. She liked his smile and he looked like he had a nice body under his baggy shirt yesterday. His tight athletic tank today shows her she’s right. Popping an earbud out, Heaven slows to jogging in place, offering him a smile. “Good morning.”

“Good morning, you’re up early, aren’t you?”

“Might not play tennis, but I’m still an athlete. I get up at 4:30 everyday. Clearly you do too.”

“Uh,” he adjusts his cap on his unruly blond hair before covering it back up, matching pace with her in her jog. “Not really, but the match is in a couple hours and I gotta explain to my family how to watch it. There’s a lot of them. And Patrick snores.”

“I see. Well, you’re gonna have to get used to it if you’re gonna get with Tashi.” His mouth opens and closes at that, like he’s shocked she knows he’s interested in her friend. “She told me about the stakes for today…and the other stuff.” 

He falters in his step at that, placing his hands on his hips as he laughs in disbelief, before pulling her shirt over his mouth for a second to hide his face, ears red. “You guys share everything, huh?”

“Apparently you do too.” Heaven laughs, pausing in her jog to stretch her leg when she feels tightness in it, bending over to work the muscles. If her eyes hadn’t slipped closed she would see Art’s eyes dart to her backside before looking away in an attempt to be respectful. He absently thinks that Patrick is right. Hot girls usually are friends with other hot girls. “But I’m rooting for you…uh…?”

“Oh, Art. I’m Art.” he breathes, willing his eyes not to slip again.

“Short for Arthur?”

“Um, yeah, but nobody calls me that. Except my grandma when I’m in trouble.” He blushes. Heaven straightens, and offers him a pretty smile.

“If one of you is gonna be seeing Tashi, I need to know your full name. I’m sure you can carry the speech to the other one too. If you hurt her, you die, I’ll kill you little white boy, you get it right?” 

“Right.” he hums, rocking on his feet. “So, you guys are close huh? She talked about you a lot last night. Fucking hates your boyfriend.”

“Yeah, well, she won’t have to worry about him anymore. Done. As of last night actually. Tashi was saying she wishes would’ve known that before your little bargain. Then, it would be both her and my number on the line. What can you do?” Heaven shrugs absently. She was flirting a little. Sue her. She’d just been dumped and was finally free to start having fun. All summer she’d been traveling with Tashi, being a good little doting girlfriend, turning down every hot guy she met. Only ever having one slip up, with Tashi. She knew they both were into her friend, she didn’t expect anything-

“So raise the stakes.” 

Heaven’s eyes widen as Art looks at her earnestly, looking embarrassed by his own words. “What?” she laughs.

“You can…definitely tell me to fuck off…but…we would be interested in having your number added to the…pot? Fuck, that sounds awful, Patrick and I want your number too. I want your number too. If that’s okay.”

“And you wanna play for it?”

“Those are the rules right?” 

Heaven observes the man in front of her. Boyish. Cute. And nervous. He doesn’t know how hot he is. Not like his friend. Not like Tashi. He doesn’t know what he looks like. And he seems sweet enough, nervous to offend them, but determined enough to push past the embarrassment to get what he wants. “Tashi’s rules. Not mine. Do you guys want to play for my number?”

His jaw sets slightly as he looks her up and down. “I wanna earn it.” 

“Okay, winner gets Tashi’s number. And mine.” 

[spiritually-a-blorb]

in light of me being a little silly, a little sillier, and finally reaching my silliest peak, I would like to introduce my favorite cringefail loser and give you headcannons about him

- Lester still had slightly purple veins after the possession. it was barely noticeable, but his blood, and therefore his veins, were a little darker. he just never points this out

- Lester had a little bit of a scuffle trying to get to California in the burning maze, and he literally never told anyone. just as a little silly. this is why he wanted maple lemon cronuts. he got in a fight at some random bakery (beacuse he wanted to get food for everyone) and he managed to snag food for everyone but himself

- Apollo visits Sweet on America, the place Sally used to work, and he'll get different candies his kids like, or he thinks they'll like. he is surprisingly successful at this, and now he keeps candy on his person at all times, like a grandma does

- Lester's complaints about memory loss were valid, for one. but the second thing? just for a lil spice, I think trying to access those memories hurts him just a little, enough for the brain to try and block those memories out. that's why his memory is super faulty. his brain is literally working against him

- Lester is checked over by Meg after every fight they have after The Big Stab™️, and she feels extra guilty when she finds out how tarquin was turning him into a zombie

- Lester was separated from Meg in a crowd once, while they were getting to the Tower of Nero. he flipped his ever-loving shit and proceeded to yell her name so loud he broke a window. Meg never got separated from him again

- Meg will do this thing where she will mispronounce words on purpose beacuse she knows that it annoys Lester. Lester eventually uses those mispronounciations in multiple haikus, and presents them to Meg in a written and stage performance. Meg has never been so annoyed and so touched in her life once she remembers that those were her mispronounciations. she then demands financial compensation for her words being used in said haikus

- Apollo (post ToA) does actually help herophile start some game shows. he gets her a nice setup and everything, and she soon becomes well known for her successful shows, both on normal channels and Hephestus TV.

- Meg eventually goes out and sees the ToA books on some bookstore shelves, and buys the entire series. she gets a lot of secondhand embarrassment due to Lester sometimes, but she enjoys re-living some good memories with her dummy. plus she likes hearing what the Arrow of Dodona actually had to say.

- Conversely, Apollo literally shrivels up in a ball when he finds out that Meg read the entire book series. he just lays there with his hands over his face while his kids swarm Meg to get her to show them the books. Apollo does not want to live through that, but he stays as they read the entire story. they all end up in a massive cuddle pile by the end

- Eventually, Artemis meets Meg. she kinda likes her by the end, but is somewhat jealous of the sibling relationship she has with Apollo. Apollo just likes seeing his two sisters get along. Meg, however, is a little conflicted as well. This is her annoying dummy, and someone else telling Apollo that, even in jest, grates on her a little (unless he deserved it. then she adds on)

- Apollo really likes fries. The big reason is they are cheap, and he would get a meal with the money they had at some gas station or fast food place, and give Meg the meal and just eat (and share) the fries. He did this right up to The Burning Maze, but only beacuse Aloe Vera kinda snitched on him to Grover. Aloe Vera only found out when she saw him climbing back down into the maze to eat the strawberries.

- Meg was super upset when she found out about the fry thing. Apollo insisted he was fine, and that he didn't need as much food as her, since she was still growing. She was a little more mad when she realizes she had been growing food that was meant to help in combat, and Apollo had to double back to get some, or he went hungry.

[ofstoriesandstardust]

a red rose grew up out of ice frozen ground (n.p.t.)

note: this my contribution to valentine's day fics although i know it's a bit early for that. this series is forever and always for @cottagecori

warnings: poetically soft, brief reference to the waiting room series but can be read standalone, brief alcohol mentions

word count: 1.9k

“Isn’t it romantic how all my eulogies eulogize me?”

“What’s got you all in tizzy?” Payback says, sliding down on the couch across from her in the rec room. 

She huffs for what her friends think is the millionth time, turning her helmet in her hands. 

“I wanna get out of here.” She mutters, scuffing her boot on the ground. 

“Why? You got some Valentine’s dinner date you’ve gotta run out to?” Hangman drawls, leaning against the back of the couch she’s seated on. 

“Maybe. Why’s that any of your business?” She snaps, glaring down at her helmet. 

Bradley huffs out a laugh. “Now, don’t tell me you’re nervous.” 

She glares at him in return, causing the boy’s shoulders to shake even more with silent laughter. 

She was nervous, but maybe not for the reason her friends think.

“You are nervous.” Bob clarifies in a soft voice, adjusting his glasses. She kicks at the ground some more and shrugs. 

“I’ve never been with someone on Valentine’s Day.” She admits softly. “And I didn’t even think we were going to do anything because she’s so busy with school, but she insisted we have a romantic dinner at home, but she won’t give me any insight to what she has planned and now it looks like we’re going to be getting out of here late and I just-” She groans, scrubbing her hands over her face. 

Hangman shifts off the couch behind her, leather squeaking as he does. “I think you’re overreacting.” 

Her head snaps back to him, a glare already on her face. “Bagman-” 

“She’s enamored with you.” He says, like how someone says the sky is blue and grass is green. “You can do no wrong.” 

Later, if Mav asks, she’ll deny being the reason behind a shiny new bruise on Hangman’s forearm. 

-

You fiddle with your earrings nervously as you glance at the clock. 

Natasha had texted you that work was running late, which you honestly hadn’t minded, making the afternoon rush of getting out of class and changed and getting set up at her house less of a rush and more a fast-paced hustle. Still, now that you had somewhat set up for her return to the house, you were starting to second guess the plan you’d set in place. 

What if Natasha didn’t like it? What if she thought it was silly or immature? What if she didn’t want to spend anymore Valentine’s with you? 

You couldn’t really afford to go out to an expensive dinner but you’d been the one to want to celebrate in the first place anyways. Maybe Natasha would have preferred that to what you had planned? 

You’d just wanted to spend time with her. You just wanted to show her how much you loved her for loving you, for sticking by you through all the shit of the last few months. 

You knew it hadn’t been easy for her, ever since you’d found out about your relationship to Pete, but she’d taken it all in stride. You knew the sour turn your friendship with Bradley had taken had put a strain on her relationship with the mustached man, as much as she had tried to pretend like it hadn’t. 

You-

You don’t get to finish that train of thought, startling as you hear Natasha in the entryway. 

“Love?” She calls out, and you can hear her drop her keys in the dish by the front door. 

“Kitchen.” You call back. 

She appears a few moments later, hair falling over her shoulder. 

You feel a bit breathless for a moment, taking in the woman in front of you. 

Her hair is a bit darker than normal, signaling she must have showered after training for the day. Natasha very rarely let her down, always keeping it tied back or in a braid, so you could see the soft waves as it falls over her shoulder. The velvet-y, low cut, open-back black dress doesn't leave much to the imagination.

Natasha knows it’s one of your favorite dresses of hers, with easy access to draw patterns on her back in public and getting to undo the strings at the top of her shoulders at the end of the night. 

“You look good.” You blurt out, eyes wide. You’re resisting the urge to reach out and touch her. 

You’re still struck sometimes at how a woman like Natasha is with someone like you, that you get this girl all to yourself. 

“So do you.” She says, a bit breathless as she pushes some hair behind her ear. “I’m sorry work ran late. I hope I didn’t cause too much upset to your plans.” 

You shake your head jerkily as you swallow, giving her one last lookover as you attempt to get your brain back online. “Not at all.” 

She lets out a little laugh at this, stepping a bit closer. “Well, will you tell me what we’re doing now, at least?” 

You falter, glancing back at the fridge. “Well, I- now that you’re here it feels a little stupid.” 

She lets out another laugh, stepping even closer to you. You can feel her body warmth as she almost touches you, but not quite. “Stupid? If you planned it, I doubt it could be stupid.” 

You must make some kind of look on your face because she frowns. “Don’t make that face-” 

You sigh, clasping your hands together. “Well, okay- I- growing up we didn’t really celebrate Valentine’s Day, but when we could afford it my Mom would always get heart-shaped pizza from somewhere. And I found this recipe online, to make your own mini heart-shaped pizzas, and I thought it could be a fun activity for the two of us to do together- but it’s stupid isn’t it?” You groan, face falling into your hands. “I should’ve just tried to cook something, this is so dumb-” 

“It’s not dumb. I don’t think it’s dumb.” Natasha says at an alarmingly fast rate. 

“You don’t?” You ask, words still muffled by your hands. You can feel the heat in your cheeks, the embarrassment prickling at you. 

Natasha gently takes your hands away from your face. “Not at all. Put on some music, open that bottle of wine from Napa I’ve been saving, and pull out those chocolate strawberries I made for you last night from the fridge, and we’ve got ourselves a lovely little date.” 

“You… you made those for me?” You blink up at your girlfriend. Your pretty girlfriend. 

Truthfully, you’d seen the strawberries in the fridge when you’d been putting the perishables from your grocery run in there, but you hadn’t thought they’d been for you. 

“Well, I’d had to contribute something here, didn’t I?” She says with a full laugh this time. 

You shrug. “Spending time with you is enough for me-” 

She cuts you off, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. You sigh into it, pulling your girlfriend closer. 

“You’re so cute.” She mutters, beaming at you after you pull away. You blush, practically preening in Natasha’s grip at the compliment. “And I love you, very much.” 

-

A few hours and a couple glasses of the good wine later find you laying on a checkered blanket on Natasha’s living room floor, soft candles lit in the room as the playlist you had made for her plays softly in the background. 

The mini heart-shaped pizzas had been a hit and the remnants of the chocolate covered strawberries are scattered around on plates. Your feet are tucked up into Natasha’s lap, her thumb brushing over your ankle as the two of you just talk. 

It feels good to be with her like this. It had been exactly what you’d wanted. 

Natasha makes you feel warm, safe. Like you can just be a little kid again. Like you can laugh with her for the rest of your life. 

“Can I ask you something?” She whispers softly. 

“Anything.” You respond. 

You’d tell her anything she wanted to know. You’d bare your soul to the girl you loved. 

“Would you ever want to move in with me? Like here?” She asks, a soft smile playing on her face. 

You push yourself up a little, trying to prop yourself up more. You’re a bit breathless as you stare at her, mind whirring. 

“Natasha Trace, are you asking me to move in with you?” 

Her smile turns a bit lopsided, the only tell of her nerves in her eyes as she looks away from you with a shrug. “I guess it depends on your answer.” 

You swallow, unsure of what to say to her. 

Sure, you’d spent a few nights (more than a few nights) at her place and she’s spent an equal amount of time at yours. 

But- you’d be living at Sam’s family house almost as long as you’d been back in San Diego. It’d been safe in a lot of ways, especially when Sam and Fran had been back in town and living there too. 

Living with them had never felt like a third-wheel, but just friends hanging out. 

It was safe, in so many ways. 

And if you moved out, and in with Natasha, you put that safety at risk. You weren’t sure if you’d be able to go backwards. 

But-

Damn it, you loved Natasha. You loved waking up next to her in the mornings and tracing the lines in back, running your fingertips over that one mole that you knew made her squirm. You loved getting to make breakfast with her and have her bring you coffee just the way you liked it while still in bed. You loved getting to spend your days with her, running errands and cooking and everything in between. You loved getting to be tucked into her at night, to be held, to be loved. 

The thought that you could have all of that, all of that laughter and love with Natasha, all the time, whenever you wanted it, was almost too much for your heart to bear. It felt like the realization of something that had felt so out of reach for you. 

You could have all of it. 

You almost want to laugh, with how giddy the idea makes you but you didn’t want to make Natasha think you’d found the idea of living with her silly. 

“Tell you what.” You say, pushing yourself up into a seated position. Natasha lets your ankle go willing, but she isn't without your touch for long as you scooch across the blanket, knees knocking against hers as you crowd her space. “I think that if I move right now, I’ll lose my mind.” 

Natasha nods, eyes shiny with hope as you talk. You know that she understands the truth in them, that moving your whole life at the height of the semester would very well be your undoing. 

“But,” You say, a bit breathless again, trying to slow yourself down to get all the words out. “I would love to live with you. Live with you here.”

“Yeah?” She says, her smile growing. 

You nod. “How about this? Let me get through this semester, and this summer, when things slow down a bit and I’m not in as many credits-” Natasha makes a noise in the back of her throat at the mention that you’d never really be free of grad school until you finished next year. “-I will be all yours.” 

You don’t think you’ll ever really tire of the way Natasha’s eyes light up. You don’t know how anyone could.

[jenna-ortega]

Dear Joel Miller

Summary— You’re back in town after a few years, and your dads new neighbor seems to always be there when you’re in need of a hand. Can you handle Joel Miller? (dbf joel) (could be a series if people enjoy)

Warnings— angst, fingering, dbf!joel, mean joel(ish) age gap (Joel late 40’s, reader in 20’s), darker fic maybe if you squint, not set in apocalyptic times

Word Count— 3.3k

Moving back home from NYC wasn’t the ideal summer plan you had, but with how the rent was growing, your other options were limited. Sad to leave the fast life behind, you sulked in your bedroom for a week straight after moving in. You tried to be grateful, some people didn’t have this option. You kept reminding yourself, this is all temporary. A mantra you repeated till your brain was foggy...this is all temporary -

A knock pulling you from your oasis. It was just your father.

“Hey, I’m leaving for work. If you need anything honey, please reach out. I know the move was a lot.” he didn’t linger long, throwing you a pair of empathetic eyes that watched you try and put on a smirk to show some semblance of joy. He took your silence as a hint and slid out of your room. The last thing you heard before the slight slam of your front door was a shout -

“Y/n, sometimes we get the neighbors mail. If you see the name Joel Miller, run it over next door will ya?”

The rest of your evening was spent in your room, on your phone, scrolling mindlessly through apps. Twitter, Instagram, even tinder...which you treated like hot or not. Burying your face into the phone means you’d have no time to be sad.

You walked over to your closet, opening it up to find some of your old stuff, spread out and tangled in wires. Your eyes spot something - I wonder if this still works.

You pull out the small speaker, and plug it in. To your surprise, you see the battery light blink green, signifying there was a charge.

You began to play your favorite songs, making sure to blast it loud enough for the neighborhood to hear. Jumping up and down in your pajama shorts and tiny top, turning to look out your bedroom window...you notice it stares directly into another bedroom. Curiously, you lowered your music, moving your shade to the right to peek in. Shit. Your eyes wander to the bed in the middle of the room, a rugged man lays on top of white sheets, arm nestled behind his head as he’s watching you intently. Your eyes widen at the sudden realization of him perceiving you, and you let go of the shade in a quick motion, jumping out of the windows view. He definitely saw you. Fuck. Was he...was he watching you the entire time? No, of course not.

You shut your music off and shake the thoughts from your head. You carefully ran down your stairs to get a much needed glass of water after the free concert you so happen to put on for your neighbor, jumping as your feet meet the cold tiles in your kitchen.

You opened up a cabinet to grab a glass, ignorant to the impending aggressive knock at your door that startled you enough to drop the fragile cup onto the floor - Fuck, you hissed as it shattered along your feet. 

“I’ll be right there!” shouting into the distance as you tiptoed away from the glass, rushing to the door to open it.

Your eyes are greeted with big brown ones looking you up and down -

“Uh- Hi!” your enthusiasm wasn’t lost on him as he furrowed his brows, wondering what made you so cheery today.

“Hi.” his stoic form would have scared you if you didn’t just see him relaxed and attentive in his own bedroom.

He leans on your doorway, one arm pressed against the side of the entrance, putting his weight onto one leg as he relaxed -

“Sorry to bother ya angel, did the mail lady come to you yet? I haven’t gotten a thing.” his tone lighter now as he smirked your way.

Your surprised at his comment, suddenly remembering what your father had told you about his mail - “Right! You must be Joel” you smiled, turning your head as you reached into the mailbox on the side of your door, feeling for any mail -

“None other.” his tone suddenly cold. The man was odd, intimidation leaking from his form, but a softness peaking through...dying to come out and play.

“Who might you be, darlin’?” his head tilts at you as you retreat from the mailbox, nothing in your hands for him.

“I’m Andrews daughter...y/n. It’s nice to meet you, Joel. You weren’t around the last time i was living here...” you tried to make conversation with him, but it didn’t seem as if he was interested.

He stood up from his slacked pose, slight smile leaving his face as you heard him silently sigh,

“Guess I wasn’t -No mail then,huh?” he reminded you the point of this visit wasn’t conversational, just transactional.

You jumped back inside a bit, crossing your arms with a small smile “Nothing yet! But if—“

You were cut off by a gruff voice

“You’re bleeding.”

His eyes follow your body down to the source, your foot leaking red underneath you.

“Oh—oh god, I didn’t even feel it. I just—I just dropped a glass before and it shattered everywhere but I didn’t kn—“ you were stumbling over your words, you didn’t know why this was so embarrassing for you…but you shrunk into yourself with a pink blush arriving to your cheeks.

“Take a breath, let me help ya out.” he offered, or mostly demanded since he walked in right past you, turning you around to face him so your back was to the door.

“Can you walk?” your brain blank as he asked a simple question.

“I think so—oh” you winced at the pain as you stepped down again, losing balance and falling into Joel’s chest. “Ouch” you whined out.

“Here— hold on” you felt him lean down, hooking his arm behind your knees as his other arm falls falls just under your arms. What an embarrassing first impression, you thought to yourself.

Bypassing the chair, he placed you down gently onto the kitchen table, far enough away from the shattered glass so he wouldn’t make the mess worse. “The first aid kit is—“ he cuts you off as you speak,

“I’ve been here, I know. Stay here would ya” …he lifts his head from where he was examining your foot, the stone cold look on his face sending shivers down your spine. You watched as he walked away from you, going up the stairs and to the …left? You didn’t remember the first aid kid being anywhere near your room.

A throbbing pain pulled you from your questions, moaning out “Hurry”… your eyes squeeze shut as blood seeps further onto the ground, leaving a small puddle beneath you.

Joel emerges down the stairs with the kit, rushing to bandage you up and clean the blood off your shaken foot.

“You sure did a number here, girl” he chuckles to himself as he cleans up the last of the glass/blood mixture. You look down at him from the top of the table, still reeling from the entire fiasco.

You lightly laughed at his comment, sighing out as he dumped the glass in the garbage can under the sink. You couldn’t help but get lost in your thoughts watching him in his navy blue shirt that shows off his muscles in just the right ways. The way he lifted you with no hesitation, took care of you like he really knew you. You hadn’t realized you’d been quiet for so long until —

“What’s got you so in your head, angel?” he walks over to you slowly, his hands resting on either side of your body, barely grazing your thighs.

Can’t believe he noticed you daydreaming, but you quickly snapped to look at him, humming a little as you thought of your next reply—

“Just grateful you were here to help is all.” you admitted, nervously reaching to your neck and rubbing the side, Joel noticing the squeeze of your thighs and how you had to adjust your position as he stood locking you to the table.

His large hands finding the tops of your thighs as he leans in, breath against your ear, lips brushing past your hair— he whispers,

“Looks like you owe me for that” you couldn’t help but notice the sudden darkness to his eyes as he pulls away from you, leaving your frame, walking towards your door. He turns to you one last time,

“And tell your father I said hello.”

It’s been a week since your encounter with the neighbor. Joel Miller. You still weren’t sure what his vibe was, but you knew you had to pursue it. He would be your summer project. If you had to be trapped in the suburbs with nothing to do, maybe getting to know the cute neighbor would spice things up. It seemed he made himself scarce the last week. You didn’t see him when you peeked past your shades, he didn’t pay you any visits for his mail, he’d been...quiet. I mean, why did you expect anything else? You were just feeding into delusions now, overthinking every tone he gave you that last interaction.

You didn’t stop wondering why he had taken that different direction when getting your first aid kit, and the questions didn’t stop once you re-entered your room that evening and found one of your drawers propped slightly open...you didn’t remember doing that. Especially not to your underwear drawer.

But he couldn’t, that would be creepy. That would be downright disturbing. Your dads neighbor who he has been describing as more of a best friend the past week couldn’t have secretly stolen something from your room... but maybe you should find out.

It was Saturday, and your dad had planned a barbecue day with his friends, all of them will be enthralled with the baseball game on as well.

“Honey, you could join us if you want. I think company would be good for you. Can’t just lock yourself in your room for the whole summer.” your father persisted, speaking from the other side of your bedroom door.

“No thank you.” you turned over in bed, adjusting your sleeping position. So you were on your back now. But the ruffling of blankets didn’t hide the disappointed sigh your father let out as you heard his footsteps get further away from your door.

You remained in bed an hour or so, in and out of a conscience state, only to be awoken by the loud roaring of mens voices outside your window. Jesus. Too much testosterone in the house today. You walked out of bed to your window, peaking out to the sight of everyone around the grill with beers in hand. The hairs on your neck stand as you make eye contact with him. Joel. Who was already staring up at you, holding the unwarranted eye contact as he sipped his beer. You watch his muscle contract as he holds the beer to his mouth and brings it down. Feeling his gaze still burning into you as you bite your lip, analyzing his outfit….jeans and that goddamn navy shirt again. It’s like he knew.

This is it. This is your opportunity. You have to fuck with him. See what his vibe is about. So you do just that. Fuck with him, blowing him a kiss from your window with a smirk. Walking away quickly so you didn’t have to directly face your consequences. So you didn’t get to see Joel nearly choke on his beer and have to adjust his jeans. You didn’t get to know all the things Joel wanted to do with those lips, to that mouth. He knew he’d get to you in due time, he wanted to wait you out. If only you knew he thought of you the same as you did him, a summer project.

You tried your best to be quiet as you snuck downstairs to get something to eat, since your fathers friends were back inside crowding the living room. You walked the hall until you were at the top of the steps looking into the living room, your eyes caught the back of him.

A rush of fear clouded your judgement as you ran back to your room, opting to starve until they left. Joel noticed your abrupt rush, only catching a glimpse of your back fading down the hall. Girl can’t even face what she started. He thought to himself as he scoffed.

You lightly closed the door behind you, leaving a small gap between the lock and frame, crawling back into bed on your back with a loud sigh. Joel looked so good, you wish you could have seen more of him. Even thought you wanted to know more, the man was intimidating, someone you know you couldn’t cross too many lines with. A man who wouldn’t put up with your antics.

Your mind betraying you as you begin to think of what his lick fingers would be like pushing you open. How warm his tongue would be as he flattened it against your cunt—fuck, you moan to yourself as your hand found comfort down your shorts, rubbing small tight circles against your clothed clit. You pulled down your shorts and any other barrier in your way, throwing them to the side as you spread your legs under the covers and dreamed it was Joel stretching you open.

You went on for awhile, fucking yourself on your own fingers. Feeling the tightness in your stomach beg to let go. “Joel” a pleading moan slipped out as your eyes were closed, squirming under the covers—

“I guess this ain’t the bathroom then.” your hand jumped out from under the covers, your eyes widen as you prop yourself up, trying to catch your breath.

Your mind barely working as you look a very interested Joel in his eyes “what the fuck are you doing in here.” Joel’s demeanor completely changes once he hears the tone you’ve set with him.

“Seems to me you called me here, angel.” He walked painfully slow to your bedside, but not before shutting and locking your door behind you. Your stomach in a thousand knots as you looked up at him from your bed.

“Or s’that another Joel you know who you were moaning about?” the sarcasm bouncing off your bedroom walls, you cower to him as he hovers over your half naked body under the covers.

“I didn’t say stop, did I?” your head slightly tilts at his words, you’re about to protest but were cut off by him ripping the blankets off of you. You gasp loudly and you rush to cover yourself with your arms.

Your eyes welling with tears from the embarrassment of him catching you in such a vulnerable state, but you’re quickly pulled from your own emotions as his hand grabs at your throat, pinning you to the bed—

“I said…” your hand flies to his wrist to try and loosen his grip on your throat, but he just keeps talking as you lowly gasp for air. “Keep. Going”

You relax in his palm, one hand still at his wrist as the other slowly obeys his words and rubs circles, catching the already leaking liquid and pushing one finger inside yourself. You whine and squirm under his grasp, closing your eyes tight as you try and get yourself off as he watches, but you haven’t been able to get yourself back into feeling that tightness.

“I —I can’t…It won’t work” you plead to him, hoping it ends whatever power play he’s decided to subject you to. But instead he scoffs at you, mimicking your words back to you in a high pitched voice—

“I —I can’t.” He laughs at you as he’s looking down at your swollen pussy. “Jesus girl, do I have to do everythin’ for ya?”

His ability to make you feel so small yet so turned on has your eyes closing in defeat, feeling his large fingers follow the curves of your body down to your cunt. His hand leaving your throat as one knee dips down into the bed, he’s now on his knees beside you. You feel his hand slide under your head and grab the hair at the base of your neck. “Oww” you squeak out loud as his grip gets tighter.

He didn’t like that.

“Stay quiet.” He slaps your pussy and you jump from the sting that lingers. Your eyes shut as your back arches up off the bed. A bright pink once against stains your cheeks in his presence.

His fingers prod at your entrance, only waiting a brief moment before he plunges two of his thick fingers into you, making sure to use his thumb to put pressure on your clit. “Fuck—fuck, your fingers feel so good” your praises were low for Joel, but you could tell his appreciation by the way he started to finger fuck you faster.

“Being such a good girl f’me” his tone finally one of praise, which alone almost sent you over the edge “l bet my angel’s about to cum. Hmm? Gonna cum on my fingers like the good girl you are?”

Joel let’s go of your hair, and moves his hand to push down on your lower belly as he finger fucks you faster, the sound of wet squelches fill the room as you try to muffle your moans by biting into your own arm— “fuck Joel, I’m gonna cum” you feel yourself on the edge of release, your whole back arching off the bed as Joel moans with you while you release on his fingers. Squeezing him tightly as your body can’t stop moving, rubbing yourself on his hand in the process. He kept ahold on your lower belly as you came down from your high. Your heavy breathing filling the room as your eyes are wide looking up at him. Your lips swollen and red from your forced biting, but Joel’s eyes didn’t leave your pussy. Watching as pulls out of you, your cum drenching his fingers.

“Taste yourself.” you look at him surprised as he forces his fingers into your mouth, you moaned around them in the process.

“Such a filthy girl. Can’t blow me kisses with my fingers gagging you.” His tone back to being rough and cold. He pushed his fingers to the back of your throat and watched you gag, removing them once he heard your pained squeak.

“Joel…” you waited to continue as the sentence as he got up from your side, once again standing over you. You sat up on the side of the bed, knees touching just below his as his brown eyes stalk you from above.

��Let me help you, please” you reach to touch his hips noticing the bulge in his pants. He groaned as you touched him, pushing your hands away from him—

“You don’t wanna start this, angel.” warning you, he grabbed your jaw in his hands as he helped your chin look upward—“I’ll ruin you.” His voice cracked, but keeping his unwavering eye contact that he’s known for.

You push your cheek into his hand, closing your eyes as the warmth of his palm soothes you. The comfort isn’t there for long since he’s the one who pulls away, walking towards the door to go back out, he leaves you, but not before commenting one thing—

“I’ll make sure to knock next time.”

[alovesongtheywrote]

OTL waiting for the fluff to return 😭 obviously take your time though omg, i’ve started writing again myself and this shit is hard work but the spencer angst is killing me dead 😫

♥ Summary:  The fluff is returning! Slowly! In this chapter of nightmare academia, Spencer goes to the hospital, and you fill out paperwork. [Prof!Spencer Reid x GN-Prof!Reader]

♥ Warnings: hospitals, guilt, alcohol mention

♥ A/N: here's a slower chapter, just so we can process the whole. stabbing incident.

♥ Word Count: 1367

Series Masterlist

♥♥♥

You fucking hated hospitals.  It was the lighting.  Goddamned fluorescents.  

After Spencer had been whisked away by the paramedics, you remained at the university for a few more hours.  You called Garcia, like he’d asked, and even though you told her not to worry, she told you to expect her presence by the end of the day.  You’d wanted to head over to the hospital as soon as you hung up the phone, but you were held back.  The police wanted to speak with you.  Joy.  Then, there were forms for you to fill out.  Turns out it’s hard to have a violent incident in your office without paperwork miraculously appearing on your desk.

By the time you actually made it to the hospital, the sun was going down.  You made your way through the long hallways lit by shitty fucking fluorescents until you found who you were looking for.  Reid was fast asleep, surrounded by the soft beeping of various machines.  

Honestly, he probably needed the sleep.  His lips were still chapped, and the dark bags beneath his eyes looked darker beneath the cruel lights of the hospital.  He looked so still, so lifeless like this- and you fucking hated it.  You needed him to be awake.  You needed him to tell you some obscure hospital facts.  You needed to know that he would be okay.

You moved through the room silently, taking a seat next to him without making a sound.  You sat there for hours, listening to him breathe- listening to the beeps of various machines that promised you he was alive.  You wished that he was awake to make that promise himself.

Occasionally, his fingers would twitch, but he didn’t move.  He just slept peacefully while you experienced immense torment at his side.  Eventually, you took one of his hands in yours- and god fucking damnit did he have nice hands.  His fingers were long and thick.  The back of his hands were decorated with veins.  There were bloodstains beneath his nails.  Part of you wanted to hold onto his hand and never let go.  You tried to ignore that part.

You tried to ignore most parts of yourself, honestly.  You were trying to ignore the parts of you that felt guilty about the stabbing.  You were trying to ignore the parts of you that knew this was your fault.  You were trying to ignore how devastated you were, how distraught the image of Reid in a hospital bed made you.

You were doing a terrible job.

With a sigh, you let yourself slump over in your chair.  You shifted against the vinyl seat, trying and failing to get comfortable.  How could you be comfortable?  Your mortal enemy/friend/stupidly attractive coworker got stabbed because of you.

Now what could you do?

Your eyes roamed over Reid’s body.  You drew in a sharp breath.  

You didn’t know that Spencer could hear you.

He’d been awake for a while.  A short while after his admission to the hospital, he pretended to fall asleep.  Part of it was him actually trying to sleep.  The other part of it was avoiding conversation.  When he heard you come in, he assumed you were a nurse or doctor.  Then you took his hand.

Now he knew it was you.  He was desperate to open his eyes and see your face.  He wanted to squeeze your hand and make sure that you were okay.  He wanted to do a lot of things, but he kept still.  He wasn’t sure you would stay if he moved.  He wasn’t sure you would say what you wanted to.

He lay there, motionless, listening to the sound of your voice and gazing into the darkness behind his eyelids.

He’d missed you.  It had only been a few hours, but somehow, he’d missed you.

“Hey, Reid,” you kept your voice whisper quiet, “It’s me.  Sorry I’m late, I got held up back at work.  You know how violent incidents are.  They generate paperwork like crazy.”

You weren’t wrong.  You weren’t wrong in the slightest.  You paused for a moment, and Spencer could hear your soft breaths over the beeping of all the damn machines around him.  He could hear you trying your best to control your emotions, to keep from crying.  You weren’t doing a great job.

“Hey, uh, thank you, by the way,” you cleared your throat, “For getting stabbed.  The cops weren’t listening to Missy.  She tried to report Jason before, but they, uh… they didn’t listen.  And I don’t think they would have listened to me, but now?  Now they’re paying attention.  And they’ll listen to you.”

He felt you squeeze his hand.

“I wish it hadn’t come to this.  I- god, I really- I didn’t want you to get hurt.  It- if anyone had gotten stabbed, it should have been me.”

No.  No, it should not have been you, Reid wanted to snap his eyes open and make you take that back.

“But hey, it was you, and now Jason’s gonna go away for a long time.  So… thank you.”

Reid didn’t say anything, but he thought, ‘You’re welcome.’

“And this isn’t forgiveness, just so you know!” you said, though your tone was very forgiving, “I’m still mad at you.  And you should be mad at me, too.  Not for being objectively right about how fucked up some of your friends are- not for that night, but… for telling you to die so many times that you almost tried it.”

That wasn’t why he’d done it.  You hadn’t made him try it.  He wanted to tell you, but he stayed silent.  He wanted to see what you said next.  He also wanted to squeeze your hand and tell you that this wasn’t your fault.

“Do me a favour, when you wake up,” you pressed your lips to his knuckles, “Be angrier with me.”

Reid had no fucking clue how he was going to do that.  He had no idea how he was supposed to get up and out of this bed and not make sure that you were okay.  

Your hand slipped out of his.  He could feel you placing it back over his chest.  Your touch lingered, even after you’d gone, and Spencer’s fingers flexed in the absence.  The room fell silent for a minute, and he was pretty sure that you’d left.  

He heard your voice again, by the door.

“By the way, I called Garcia like you told me to and uhhhh.  She’s coming here anyway, she’ll be here soon, okay bye.”

And then you were gone.

-

You ran into Garcia outside of the hospital.  She winced when she saw you and you couldn’t blame her.  You were sure you looked like shit.  Even if you didn’t, her friend had been stabbed because of you.  In her position, you probably would’ve thrown a few punches.

Garcia did not throw punches.  Instead, she placed a cautious hand on your arm, and she spoke to you kindly, and you felt like you didn’t deserve it.

“Hey Doctor Gorgeous, is everything okay?  I mean, of course everything isn’t okay, Reid got stabbed and you were in danger, but you, physically, how are you doing, are you okay?”

You gave her the best smile you could muster and placed a hand over hers, “Physically, I’m fine.  Mentally?  I’m planning on going home and getting drunk.  Thank you for asking, Penelope.”

She winced again, and this time, you could identify the emotion behind it.  You could see the sympathy, the pain in her eyes, you shared it.

“Y’know, if you want to, I’m gonna grab a coffee before I go see Spencer.  You can join me, if you want, instead of uh, drinking about this.”

You smiled, letting out a half-breath of a laugh and looking at the ground.

“That sounds like a good idea, actually.  Thank you.”

“You don’t need to thank me,” Garcia’s smile was blinding.  She took you by the arm and led you to the coffee shop, talking about the reviews she’d seen for it the whole time.

You stayed with her until she went to see Spencer.  When you went home, you drank coffee instead of wine.

♥ Tags: @icarusignite, @usuallyunlikelyfox, @maraudersforlife2005, @fictionalcomforts, @morgthemagpie, @iiheartbowie, @digitalhearts, @corpsebridenightamare, if you asked to be tagged and i forgot, pls let me know!!

[thebest-medicine]

Day 30: Caught

Tickletober 2023 - RELIC by Maz Maddox - (takes place post King & Queen) - lee!Baja

[see my other tickletober 2023 fics]

[read on AO3]

A/N: Shout out to this series for being fucking adorable. [see my other fic for it]

Words: 1.1k

—

“Fuck off, Dalton!” 

“Come onnnnnn~”

“Try anything—” Baja glares his brother down, that apex predator authority in his eye. “—and I will use you as a toothpick.” 

“You’re just mad you’re ticklish.” 

“Shut the fuck up, would you?” Baja growled.

“Oooooohhhhh.” Dalton grinned, his face suddenly full of knowing.

Baja was familiar with that look. “No.”

“He doesn’t know?!” 

“No. And you are not going to—”

Dalton’s eyes were sparkling. They flicked to the door behind his brother. 

Baja clocked it right away. “Don’t you FUCKING dare—DALTON!” 

Footfalls thundered through the ranch as Dalton tore outside as fast as he could. Simon, cup of coffee in hand, paused just in time to miss being ran over by a pink blur and—just a few steps behind, a darker blur radiating annoyance. They flew past him, tearing through the doorway. A couch and coffee table made a meager defense from Baja, separating him and Dalton so both could catch their breath. They both twitched this way and that, testing the other to see if the other would bolt. 

“Jeez, you guys are gonna tear this place apart..” Blaze winced, eyeing them and slowly backing up into the hallway he’d emerged from. He backed straight into Royal, who smiled down at him. 

“Something wrong with breakfast in the living room?” He asked thoughtfully. 

“No, it’s—”

“Jackson doesn’t know that Baja’s ticklish!!!!!!!!!” Dalton bellowed. “He’s gonna kill me but I have to tell him!” 

“Shut your fucking mouth!” Baja hissed, growing impatient and stepping over the coffee table to launch himself over the couch at his brother. 

“Oh shit.” Royal grinned. 

Before Blaze knew it, he was holding Royal’s plate, and his boyfriend, who had a long history as Dalton’s partner in crime, was tearing past him into the living room. 

“No.” Baja’s face flashed with worry. “Not you too.”

“That’s too precious! Come onnnnnnn. We have to tell him.” Royal made a grab for Baja who kicked him away and started in the direction of Dalton. 

“Or show him.” Dalton smirked. 

“I love the way you think.” Royal beamed.

“I hate both of you, and I’m going to kill you if you—”

As if on cue, Jackson walked into the living area, taking in the arguing shifters. “Uh, hey—”

Baja’s eyes wide, he tore off past Jackson and right out the door, leaving him confused —and almost run over by his two pursuers. 

“What? Um.” Jackson chuckled, confused.

“Come on!” Royal called back at him as he raced after Baja.

Dalton added. “Got something to show ya!” 

“No they don’t!” Baja yelled back. Was that…laughter edging into Baja’s voice? 

Jackson blinked, thoroughly convinced, and gave curious chase to the rest of them. His long stride helped him catch up with ease, just as Dalton caught up to Baja and jumped onto his back. Baja let out a resounding growl, scrambling to get him off. 

Seconds later, Royal was on him too, and he knew he was screwed.

“No, you fuckers! I’ll- I’ll kill you!” Baja argued as they wrestled him down against the ground and got ahold of his arms. Royal sat over his waist while Dalton struggled with his arms. 

“Aww, it’s been way too long since we’ve done this!” Dalton smirked, wiggling his fingers. 

Jackson caught up to them a few seconds later, watching with an amused curiosity. “Just what are y’all—” He paused when he saw Baja biting back a grin and tilted his head. He watched as Dalton sat on both of Baja’s arms and then started… poking and lightly grazing his fingers over the now uncovered armpits. 

The last of Baja’s resolve crumpled along with his expression. Jackson could only watch with a growing smile. 

Royal’s laugh rumbled in like thunder, reverberating through him as Baja’s legs kicked in protest behind him. He started to pinch lightly up and down Baja’s sides. 

Baja growled, fighting the grin that slowly grew on his face. When he wasn’t making some noise of annoyed protest, he was holding his breath to keep in his laughter. 

Jackson squatted down beside the brothers. “You’re ticklish?” He asked, amused. 

Baja slammed his head back against the ground and cut off the laugh that almost escaped as a whine. “No.” He gritted his teeth. 

Royal and Dalton shared a laugh. “I dunno… Seem pret-ty ticklish to me, Baja.” Dalton teased, poking a finger into his rib cage. Baja jolted under each touch. 

“Well if you’re going to be stubborn…” Royal sighed with amusement. He reached behind him with one hand — Baja’s eyes widened as he recognized what was about to happen — and then started to squeeze at his upper thigh. 

Baja’s shout dissolved into the most sweet, bubbling laughter. 

“There we go!” Dalton smiled down at him. “Doesn’t that feel better?” 

Baja shut his eyes, his cheeks growing a bit darker, and failed to keep in any of the laughter he had been trying to fight. It was impossible with the floodgates open. Royal was fighting dirty, going after one of his worst spots. 

Jackson laughed along with them and reached out to pinch at Baja’s rib cage, resulting in an adorable flinch. 

With laughter freely pouring from Baja’s lips, Royal turned his attention back where he could see, poking and scribbling and tickling at the shaking middle in front of him. He and Dalton tickled with a familiarity, it seemed, of all the spots that made Baja jump and snort and twitch and yell. They even seemed to find a few that, if pushed a little further, might even make him beg.

“Easy, don’t kill him now..” Jackson reminded them. He reached out to brush a few stray hairs out of Baja’s face as the boys slowed their tickly attack. “I have to say, though, this is some of the best news I’ve heard all summer —maybe in my life.” 

Baja groaned, catching his breath as his brothers gave him a pat on the cheek and got up off of him. 

“You’re both… fucking dead… I hope you know.” Baja scolded when he had the ability to look at them without grinning like an idiot. Royal and Dalton held up their hands, backing up toward the house before turning and running. “And you.” He pointed at Jackson. 

“What?” Jackson scoffed, laughing. 

Baja had a familiar annoyed anger in his eyes. He let out a frustrated growl. “You… weren’t supposed to see that.” He sighed, sitting up and running a hand over his face. “Don’t even fucking think about—”

Jackson cut him off with a laugh. “Oh, Darlin’, you know I’m never lettin’ this go.”

Baja rolled his eyes. “Whatever. Until I find out where you’re ticklish.” 

Jackson smiled, reaching out a hand to help him up. “Looking forward to seeing you try.” 

[restinslices]

I tend to add random lore no one asked for to series I like, so here’s me doing it for Shadow and Bone. Specifically for Shadow Summoners. Also for this, let’s pretend Aleksander was a real strategist and slept with someone before he died so his line could go on.

So when Baghra gets these powers, we know her dad is frightened by her. Shadow Summoners were supposed to happen and their presence could be seen as a curse. So a known quote or title they get is “a curse made real”.

I think it’d be very interesting if this had side effects. I know their powers are one, but I’m thinking more than that. Hear me out for a quick second. Shadows and the color black are often linked with evil and mystery, so what if this also tampered with their brain? There’s a part of your brain that tells you what’s right from wrong, but what if a side effect is that they have difficulty with this? It’s as if shadow covers their brain and something someone would consider wrong, isn’t that bad in their head, especially if it’s for a greater goal.

Adding onto that, I think it’d be interesting if this family kinda had the Targaryen reputation of “going mad”. I’ve never seen GOT or HOTD but the line that’s like “half the Targaryens went mad didn’t they? What’s the saying? Everytime a Targaryen is born, the gods flip a coin and the world holds its breath” could also fit this family. Kirigan could be seen as “gone mad” while Baghra isn’t. Baghra has a sister and other kids (according to google) but we never see them in the main trilogy and idk if they’re seen in other books in the series. As their line goes on, some of them going mad could be a consistent thing.

A cool power they could have when given an amplifier is the ability to make people do terrible things. You know how I said their brains are kinda fucked and it’s like a shadow is over their brain? They have the power to cast that shadow over other peoples brains and push them to do fucked up shit. Whether it be the darker thoughts that particular person has, or whatever that Shadow Summoner wills them to do. This could only be broken by a Sun Summoner’s interference

Do y’all know the line in Fear Street when Sarah Fier curses the Goodes and says that everytime they hurt someone, they’ll feel the grip of her hand and she’ll never let them go? If you don’t, that fine. Just keep following-

Kirigan feels like he was wronged in the end. In his head, everything he did was ok because it was for a bigger goal. So, he made an oath/vow/curse/however you wanna look at it, of his own. Everytime someone in his family line is wronged, they will feel the grip of his hand guiding them to get revenge. They’ll feel his hands on their shoulders, hear him whispering in their ear, and feel their rage rise until they get revenge. And their version of revenge is very bloody.

Imagine it for a second. Alina stabbing him and as he’s dying, he makes this vow. Alina is confused because she has no knowledge of any other Shadow Summoners being alive. Since she’ll more than likely live for hundreds of years, she eventually finds out that he had a lot more tricks up his sleeve.

Shadow Summoners adapt to war fast

Shadow Summoners are rare. They’re a submissive gene and it tends to skip generations

Shadow Summoners are obviously not allowed to get together because they share an ancestor, but it’s also because that whole shadow over the brain thing gets worse if two of them have a baby. The kid is guaranteed to be a Shadow Summoner, but they’re also 99% guaranteed to go mad

Shadow Summoners are still feared. Everyone is worried about them following in Kirigan’s footsteps. They’re so scared, that they made a separate area for them in the Little Palace (once they were finally allowed in) because everyone felt tense around them

Them controlling peoples shadows and traveling by merging with their own shadow? Let’s discuss

I feel like I have more but this is all I remember now. I think we as a community should start making up more lore for this universe because it’s fun. Especially for the rare types of Grisha like Sun and Shadow Summoners.

[angelsanarchy]

Alone Together - Eddie/OC One-Shot Series PRT 26

taglist: @thetenthdoctorscompanion @siriuslymooned @samwilsonnsnns @kathaaaaaaa

Eddie had to keep himself busy all day. Dani was supposed to come home today and he had missed the hell out of her. After talking to Wayne, he talked with the boys about his plan to ask Dani on a real date. They were all supportive and gave him a bunch of shit for taking so long but the whole gang was happy for him. No matter how much they tried to talk him down and explain that Dani felt the same way, he was still terrified to ask her out.

Eddie was running late for band practice, trying to get everything loaded up in his van as fast as humanly possible didn't mean shit if the van wouldn't start.

He had called and let Gareth know what he was doing and he said if he didn't hear from him in the next 20 minutes, they would practice tomorrow instead. Eddie couldn't help but be frustrated. He had way too much on his mind to focus on fixing the van right now.

He thought he heard a familiar car puttering down the street towards the driveway but when the door slammed, he lifted his head from under the hood.

There she was. Her hair almost looked a little darker, her cheeks were rosy and she smiled widely as soon as their eyes met. Eddie dropped the wrench in his hand as Dani started sprinting towards him. She jumped into his chest and he lifted her off the ground into a tight hug.

"Fuck I missed you." Eddie took in her scent as she squeezed him tightly.

"I missed you too!" Dani's legs were wrapped so tightly around Eddie, she had no plans of letting him go. When she finally sat back and looked at him, she smiled. Without much thought, she leaned forward and kissed him hard on the lips. Eddie's chest tensed feeling how hard his heart was beating and he kept his grip tight on her. Eddie stumbled back into the van and she pulled away from him so she could put her legs back on the ground.

"I need to talk to you about something...it's important." She sounded out of breath. Eddie felt like he had been gut checked.

"Y-yeah I gathered that." Eddie swallowed. She grabbed his hand and pulled him towards the trailer, noticing his uncles truck wasn't in the driveway she was excited to finally see him, feel him, talk to him.

"Look I want to talk to you too-" Eddie heard her close the door behind herself but as he turned around she practically tackled him into the wall with another kiss. This time he was equally not prepared but responded with his lips against hers instead of standing there like an idiot. He cupped her face in his hands and pulled away.

"Wait wait wait...I have to tell you something Dani. It's important." Eddie needed to tell her. He needed her to know how he felt.

"I love you...I mean I'm in love with you and I want-" she cut him off.

"to have sex?" She questioned making his eyes go wide and jaw slack.

"Um...okay..I feel like we fast forwarded through something." Eddie clasped his hands together and Dani laughed. She walked over to the couch and patted the spot next to her. He sat down confused and she just stared for a minute.

"There wasn't a minute where I wasn't thinking about you while I was gone. That phone call that we had, that's the only thing that got me through my mom's stupid crap. I just kept thinking about this moment. Finally seeing you and just putting it all on the table." Dani explained.

"Y-yeah?" Eddie croaked.

"Yeah." She reached out and took his hands into her own.

"I guess that's a good thing because I was miserable the entire time you were gone. Everyone kept saying how much of a mopey dick I've been and kept telling me I needed to man up and finally tell you...that I'm stupid in love with you. It's more than being best friends or friends that dry hump in my van. I can't stop thinking about you Dani. I want to be with you all the time, I want to do cute shit like go on dates and have you wear my clothes and hold your hand at school." Eddie blushed looking at their hands together.

"I know you don't like labels-" He started nervously.

"Oh shut up and ask me to be your girlfriend already." Dani blurted. Eddie looked up surprised and smirked.

"You wanna be my girlfriend, Murillo?" Eddie teased.

"Yes I do." She pulled on his hands as they were locked into her own and kissed him. This time when he let go of her hands, he put them on her cheeks and pushed her to lay on her back, hovering over her so he didn't crush her. She pulled away suddenly and he leaned up to look down at her.

"What's wrong?" He asked concerned.

"I want to have sex with you...like right now." She pressed.

"I mean I'm totally down for all that but don't you want to like make it special...go on a date or something first?" He asked. Dani wasn't like the other girls he had slept with. She was special to him. She was his girlfriend now and he wanted her to know how much she meant to him.

"It is special because it's with you." She pushed his hair away from his face and he smiled sweetly.

"We can wait if you-" Eddie cut her off.

"Fuck no!" He lifted her off her feet and practically ran back to his bedroom while she laughed, holding on for dear life. He place her down on the bed gently and resumed kissing her with fervor this time. He pulled away and looked down at her for a moment to smile.

"Do you have any idea how long I've wanted this?" Eddie asked stroking the side of her face. Dani smiled at him.

"Why didn't you say anything? We could have been doing this for months." She teased. Eddie let out a laugh and shook his head.

"I was scared. You're my best friend...you're the best thing that's ever happened to me in this shitty town. I didn't want to ruin it." Eddie explained shyly. Dani touched his cheek and sat up on his bed.

She pulled her shirt over her head and Eddie's eyes went wide. Without giving him a second to process, she pulled her bra off too tossing it and leaving her topless in his gaze.

"You couldn't ruin this if you tried Munson." Dani reached out and pulled Eddie back on top of her and he let his hands roam her breasts, squeezing them and rolling her nipple between his thumb and finger. She ran her hands up his back and he let her pull his shirt over his head.

Dani ran her hands over his chest and let her fingers linger over his tattoos. She had seen them before but she had never been able to touch them.

"You're so fucking beautiful." Eddie ran his tongue down her neck, leaving behind little nibbles that made her groan. He felt her hands on his belt buckle and paused. She smiled reassuringly at him and he blushed.

"Eddie Munson, are you blushing?" Dani teased.

"Well I never really thought we would get here, you know." Eddie touched her hands and she sat up in front of him.

"Do you want to stop..." He rolled his eyes at her and she chuckled.

"Okay that was a dumb question. Are you just shy?" She asked kissing the skin of his chest, letting her tongue run across the ink of his tattoos as she brushed her fingertips over his happy trail. Eddie's eyes closed and he let his jaw run slack at the feeling. This felt so much different than any other time he's had sex. This felt intense.

"Do you think I could steer for a bit?" He asked letting his hands rest on her hips. She kissed him quickly before laying on her back and letting him take control. He laid his body atop Dani's, resuming his kisses, trailing them down her breasts, over the scars of her stomach from surgeries, to the hem of her jeans. He pulled the jeans and the panties down in one fell swoop and Dani moaned loudly the moment his lips attached to her clit. His eyes shot up to look at her as she writhed beneath him and she gripped her breasts tightly in her hands trying to contain the feelings Eddie was pulling from her.

"Oh God! Eddie." Dani looked down and watched him lap at her pussy so well she wanted to cry. Her hips jerked when his fingers entered her and she swiveled her hips down onto them.

"You're so fucking wet for me, beautiful. Tell me how good it feels, how good I make you feel." Eddie wanted so badly to make her cum like this. He wanted to hear her moan his name and taste her orgasm on his tongue. He kept his fingers at a steady pace and she continued to whine curses, biting her lip to keep from being loud.

"You make me feel so fucking good. I'm gonna cum, fuck Eds, I'm gonna cum." It came out like a cry but when she did cum, Eddie made sure to lick her clean until she practically trapped his head between her knees from being overstimulated.

Eddie sat back on his knees letting Dani catch her breath. She looked at him as he surveyed her laying exposed completely on his bed and smiled.

"I'm taking those fucking pants off now." She scrambled to get her hands back on his belt and he laughed letting her undo the buckle. He took a handful of her ass cheeks in his hands and squeezed as she tried to yank his jeans down but was unsuccessful.

"I might need to take these off myself." Eddie slid off the bed and stood as he pushed his jeans and boxers to the floor and stepped out of them. His cock was hard as it slapped against the middle of his stomach and Dani grinned.

"Shy my ass." She crawled towards him and he shook his head at her, tensing as he watched her lick her palm and slide it down his cock.

"Listen, I would love for you to...return the favor but I'm not going to last long and I want the first time I cum with you to be inside of you." Eddie explained and Dani put her arms around his neck.

"Inside of me? That kind of sounds romantic." She teased but he leaned his head against hers.

"You know I love you right? Like over the moon, sell baby if it made you happy kind of love..." Eddie pressed and Dani put her hands on his face.

"I love you too Eddie...and I would never ask you to sell baby." She kissed him sweetly, tasting herself on his tongue. She let him lay her on her back again, feeling the weight of him resting against her belly as he settled on top of her.

"Are you ready? I don't want to hurt you-" Eddie started looking between their bodies feeling Dani's hand grip him and guide his cock towards her entrance.

"Oh..-Fuck." Eddie felt her pussy pulling him in tightly and he tried to remain as still as possible. Dani didn't move, seeing him trying to keep his composure. She stroked the muscles in his arms until he lifted his head to look into her eyes.

"You're going to be the fucking death of me, Murillo." He was practically shaking.

"What a way to go out then." She smiled kissing his forearm tattoo. Once he was able to move, he pushed his hips forwards and Dani let her head fall back. She felt full and the burn of the stretch made her dig her nails into his arms. He went slowly trying not to let this moment be over too quickly. He couldn't look down at her face without wanting to cum so he tried to keep his eyes shut as he moved, listening to her moans, preaching his name like she was in church asking for forgiveness. Sex had never been like this for him.

He finally dare to look at her and she staring at him as his thrusts started to pick up speed. She pulled the front of his guitar pick necklace until he was close enough to kiss her as he moved.

"Eddie." She licked his bottom lip groaned grabbing a hold of his ass and wrapping her legs around him to pull him deeper. He let out a surprised groan and started thrusting at a sloppy pace trying to reach his orgasm.

"Oh fuck Dani! FUCK!" He released inside of her and felt his vision white out for a moment as he whined out moans. His arms gave out and he tried not to crush her but he couldn't move. His legs felt like jelly and just feeling his dick go soft inside of her made him shiver.

He hadn't remembered falling asleep but when he awoke, Dani was staring at him, now wearing one of his old band tanks and panties. He grinned at her and she could see the blush on his cheeks.

"You passed out almost immediately." Dani teased and Eddie turned to bury his face into the pillow.

"I was overwhelmed with emotions and comatose by your feminine wiles, at least I made you cum once." Eddie mumbled into the pillow embarrssed.

"Twice actually." Dani laughed stroking his back and resting her head next to his so he would look at her.

"No regrets?" He asked letting his hand rest on her naked thigh. She leaned forward and kissed him.

"Not a single one." Dani pushed the hair off his face and he smiled.

"This feels like a dream. I don't want to leave this bed. I don't want the world to fuck this up." Eddie pulled her closer to him and she rested her head against his chest.

"Nothing is going to fuck this up. You've got me and I've got you." Dani reassured Eddie as he held onto her.

"Beauty and the Freak..." He teased making her laugh.

"Hey, you're my freak." She joked and Eddie licked his lips seeing how sincere she was being. That's how Eddie knew he was falling in love with Dani. The way she looked at him was unlike anyone else. She saw something in him that made him want to be better, do better and make a future possible.

"And you're my girl." He responded kissing her once more and getting lost in the feeling of their limbs being tangled up in one another, laying in the middle of his bed. He was going to fight with his life to protect what he and Dani had.

[saucy-sassy-sparkly]

Moments: Four

Author's Note: Darlings, here she is: part four. Part five is mostly drafted so we’re not finished yet ;)

Pairing: Chris (buzzcut era) Evans x reader

Word Count 6.7k

italics are flashbacks (except the beginning rambling), and bold are text.

Moments Masterlist

Four: 2012, Prague

The older we get, the more we come to appreciate the little things…

The stolen hour in your schedule for coffee and catching up with a friend.

The relief of warm socks, fresh out of the dryer, on a cold winter evening.

The taste of your mom’s chicken noodle soup when you feel like shit.

The warmth of a hug from your grandfather.

The smile a memory can give you, even when the moments around it hurt.

Those are the things that matter; creating a life made up of moments that fill your soul.

“Go again,” Chris rolled his shoulders and took a deep breath while he waited for everyone to reset. It was the third time they’d rehearsed this scene today and the stunt coordinators still weren’t happy. His back was covered in sweat and he was panting while he quietly embraced the few moments to catch his breath. He waited for the go signal, watching his castmates take directions and nod, feeling grateful that no one was approaching him. On the signal, he artfully twirled his fake ax and then charged at the oncoming foes, batting several out of the way quickly in a perfectly choreographed fight.

He ducked, struck, rolled, and attacked for several minutes, working his way from one end of the faux tunnel to another. When he did this on set, it would be darker and he’d have on far more- his T-shirt allowed him to move easily now but he knew he’d have to accommodate the bulk of the winter clothes his character- Curtis- would be in. Right now, in the lights of the rehearsal space, he could focus on each move he had to make and reciprocate appropriately. Chris was often grateful that fight scenes hardly had dialogue for good reason– he was out of breath by the time each sequence was done.

By the fifth time they reset and ran the sequence, the stunt coordinators were finally happy, which made Chris and his cast mates happy: that meant the end of the day. They’d been rehearsing all of the various technical sequences all day— all week in fact— and Chris was sore and tired. A hot shower, cold beer, and a cheeseburger from room service were calling his name. He could indulge tonight before a long-awaited day off from rehearsals. He’d been here a month and it was only the third full day off; he was hoping he finally had the energy to do a little sightseeing.

Y/N’s hand was cramping from the frantic notes she scribbled in her notebook. The speaker clicked through his slides at a ridiculously fast pace while she tried to make notes on best practices and new research to take back to her practice in DC. Because she was unmarried and childfree, she and two of her older colleagues– the one and only man, Keith, in their practice with college-aged children who she’d hardly spoken to, and a woman, Rachel, in her 50s who’d never married– had been voluntold that they would attend the annual International Psychology Conference in Prague. The other four women in her practice had young children and it was “hard to get away”.

So, Y/N had decided to take it as an adventure. She’d taken an additional week off of work to get to tour Prague. She’d flown out with Keith and Rachel on Monday evening and arrived in time to drop their bags at the hotel and attend the first series of lectures. On the flight, they’d spent the first 90 minutes going through the conference brochure and deciding which items would best suit their practice and who would attend each. The rest of the flight, while Keith napped, had been used for Rachel to explain to Y/N all the ways the other women in the practice were rich, selfish bitches that just wanted to make other people do things they didn’t want to.

Y/N was still new to the practice– new to the career in general. She’d been hired nine months ago after finishing her graduate degree and interviewing with several practices in the DC area. She’d fallen in love with this practice that was the #1 recommended practice for women and children experiencing abuse or homelessness in the DC area; when they’d offered her the job, she was over the moon. Her clients ranged from children to teens, from play therapy to talk therapy, and filled her heart knowing she spent her days helping others.

When she’d shared this with Rachel, Rachel had sighed, rolled her eyes, taken a huge gulp of her vodka tonic, and said, “You’re so sweet and inexperienced.”

The more time she spent with Rachel, the more she thought that maybe Rachel was the bitch…

“You should’ve brought a laptop,” the woman next to her whispered when Y/N dropped her pen to flex her hand a few times. She offered a half-hearted smile in return before beginning a flurry of more notes. By the time the speaker was finished, she’d covered the front and back of half a spiral notebook. It was filled with her scribbles from the whole week: each speaker, their background, their contact information, their research, their insight… She'd take it back to her hotel room and transcribe it neatly into a second spiral notebook that she would keep on her well-organized office shelf with all the other meticulously kept notebooks from college and grad school.

She met with Keith and Rachel to walk back to the hotel; Keith was clicking through his Blackberry, presumably messaging his wife as he had most days at the end of the conference, while Rachel had started talking about dinner. For the last four nights, they’d eaten together, chatted about the speakers they saw, and then retired to their rooms alone. Y/N didn’t mind Keith so much; he reminded her of her Uncle Chuck– he was kind and funny and minded his own business. Rachel was tiresome but intelligent; she’d tried to convince Y/N to go out in the evenings for a drink but she’d politely declined each time.

She was looking forward to the week by herself. She’d convinced her boss to let her stay the week– work would pay for her plane tickets while she had to cover the additional week of hotel stay on her own. That seemed like a fair compromise since they’d paid for her hotel and food for the nights she was there on business. Y/N hadn't allowed herself any kind of real celebration after getting her graduate degree; she’d just jumped straight into job hunting and her career. It was time to take a break and enjoy herself. This was her first vacation alone… ever… and she was more than ready to take in Prague in the spring.

“Want to meet in the lobby at 6 and go for dinner?” Rachel asked as they approached the hotel.

Keith shook his head, “I’m going to get room service and finish packing.”

Rachel turned to Y/N who offered a tight smile… she could do one more meal with Rachel before a week alone so she agreed quietly as they approached the elevator bank.

Chris had disembarked the shuttle from the studio and lumbered in the back entrance of the hotel with his cast mates; they chatted casually as they made their way to the elevator banks. An elevator arrived just a few moments later and people clambered in, quickly filling the space. Chris waved them on, not feeling like spending another second cramped in with the other sweaty, exhausted actors. He stood alone waiting for the next car to arrive when the click of high heels on the tiled floor alerted him to someone approaching.

Three figures– a barrel-chested man, a short, middle-aged woman, and a lithe woman about his age– stopped and reached for the elevator call button. It was already lit up from Chris, but the youngest woman tapped it once for good measure and then stepped back and away from it. Chris kept his eyes downcast, trying not to be noticed or engage in conversation. The last thing he had the energy to do was engage in appropriate social banter with strangers. It was hard enough before he became recognizable; now that he had a superhero gig under his belt, it was almost impossible to avoid small talk and autographs once he made eye contact.

That said, from where she stood a few feet beside and in front of him, he struggled not to notice the curve of the young woman’s legs or the way her heels accentuated them in her business casual outfit.

The elevator arrived and Chris stepped back to let people exit, his eyes still downcast and then gestures to his companions. The older woman walked by him swiftly without a word, the man offered him a curt nod, and the youngest woman said a quiet, “thanks,” as she stepped in front of him where his eyes were again drawn to her curves.

He moved quickly around the young woman and into the back corner where he could try to hide; the other woman asked, “What floor?”

“Seven, please.”

“Easy enough,” there was laughter in her tone when he realized she’d already hit seven for all of them.

She backed away from the buttons and started to talk to the younger woman next to her, asking about dinner. Her companion had moved back beside Chris to lean against the back of the elevator to surreptitiously lift each foot and roll her ankle.

They still hadn’t made eye contact– but as the floors quietly passed and he watched her move on to ease out of her shoe just enough to flex her foot. She talked quietly with her friend, making plans to meet back downstairs in a few hours.

When the conversation lulled, Chris couldn’t help himself, “I don’t know how people don’t break more ankles in heels,” he gestured at her feet. “Seems awful.”

“For the right shoe or the right occasion I’ll take the pain, but I regret my decision,” she started to turn to him but was distracted when the other woman cut in, “is it your ankle again?”

“Yeah,” the younger replied, “I have an old injury that sometimes acts up when I wear heels too much. I think walking on the cobblestones is getting to me.”

The elevator dinged quietly to signal arriving at the floor and Rachel stepped out, followed by Y/N, then Keith, and then Chris. Keith had quietly said goodbye as the elevator doors were opening and Y/N had already wished him a safe flight while Rachel promised to meet him in the lobby at 7:50 tomorrow morning.

Rachel had stopped in the middle of the hallway to talk to Y/N, effectively blocking Chris from going past in the thin halls of the historic building. “Excuse me,” he muttered quietly, trying to get their attention.

Y/N stepped out of the way without looking at Chris; her eyes were still trained on Rachel as she talked quickly about dinner. She hadn’t moved. Y/N grabbed her arm and started to pull her out of the middle of the hallway just as Chris had said, “can I just–” a little more forcefully than he intended.

“I’m moving,” Rachel snapped, looking up at him before her eyes got wide. “Oh God,” she gasped.

Chris wanted to squeeze his eyes shut in frustration. He knew that reaction. He knew what was coming.

“Oh my God!” She said again, louder this time as she reached for his arm, “You’re Captain America!”

He slowly turned, trying to calm his breathing and stop the sweat that had just started to trickle down his neck again. He was so uncomfortable in these moments. He never knew what to do, how to respond, how long to stand there, how to get out of it… He took in the woman speaking. She wasn’t old and wasn’t unattractive; she was probably in her 50s with copper hair and green eyes; she was short and thin and had on a little more makeup than she needed, was dressed in a tailored pantsuit, and was grinning ear to ear.

“My nephews just love your movie, do you think I could take a picture with you to send them? I took them to see it in theaters. They watch it every time they come over. I’m a big fan too, you’re wonderful.”

Rachel was blushing furiously and talking faster than normal.

Chris forced a smile, “sure, I’d be happy to.”

Rachel turned to Y/N and started to hand her phone over, “Y/N, can you take it?”

Y/N didn’t respond.

Chris finally turned his attention to look at the other woman in the hallway and his breath caught in his throat.

He could still see the teenager in her face, but she was a full-grown woman now. She was stunning– as beautiful as he’d found her in line at the lift, in the tattoo parlor, on the dance floor. Years in between had done nothing but add to her beauty. She’d filled out in the most luscious, delicious way; his eyes trailed all across her body and back to her eyes. Those eyes. The ones he’d been able to both light up and tear up.

His heart hammered harder in his chest while he stared at her– the woman he’d been convinced was the one that got away. The woman he’d hated himself for leaving that night. The woman he very consciously compared every other woman to.

“Chris,” she breathed. He sighed her name in return, both of them staring in silence.

“Shit, Y/N, do you know him?” Rachel practically squealed, looking between the two of them.

“What are you–”

“I’m here for a conference, are you working?”

Chris nodded, “we’re in rehearsals now, filming starts in a few days.”

“Hi, Y/N, what's going on?” Rachel interjected again and Y/N felt frustration coiling, ready to snap. Her emotions were on overdrive right now and the absolute last thing she wanted to do was talk to this woman.

“We met years ago,” she turned to Rachel, trying to keep her voice from shaking, “we were kids. It’s been…” she trailed off.

“We met 15 years ago.” Chris finished for her, turning to Rachel. “Let’s get you that picture.” He told her, taking her phone and flipping it to the new front-facing camera. He held it at arm’s length and they both smiled. Chris took a few and then handed the phone back to Rachel who was already texting her nephews. Chris and Y/N were still staring at each other, neither one of them able to come up with the right words.

“I’ll meet you at 6, Y/N,” Rachel finally looked up from her phone and glanced between the two of them. “I’m going to need a lot of details,” she smirked and Y/N didn’t have the brainpower to roll her eyes. She knew that dinner was going to be a barrage of nosy questions. For a therapist, Rachel was not good at respecting boundaries.

“Should we… I mean… Why don’t we…” Y/N tried several different starts but faltered each time. Her whole body was shaking, she was sweating, and she was so anxious. Y/N was fiddling with the strap of her bag on her shoulder; Chris had seen her do this each time they’d been together– her anxiety manifested in fidgets and lip biting. The lip biting, he remembered, was one habit he liked on her.

“What room are you in?”

“734.”

“I’m 718,” Chris gestured in the opposite direction that Rachel had just walked. Had they been staying just rooms apart for days and never seen each other? They walked quietly down the hall and stopped in front of Chris’s room. They were both lost in thought for several more seconds before he said, “Do you have to go to dinner with her?”

Y/N huffed a laugh before glancing down the hall to see that Rachel was gone, “I don’t particularly want to, but it’s her last night and I already agreed to it.”

Chris nodded, “How long are you here?”

“Another week,” her fidgeting continued.

Chris visibly brightened, “Are you staying here the whole time?” She nodded. “I’m off tomorrow, can I take you to breakfast?”

Y/N hesitated and pulled her bottom lip between her teeth making Chris’s heart skip. She stared at him, her eyes bouncing between his before she nodded, “yes,” she said quietly.

“I’ll come get you at 10,” he started to reach for her, to pull her in for a hug, but he hesitated. He grasped the strap of his backpack tighter and raked his eyes over her face for any signs of regret, or hesitation. She was still biting her lip and watching him carefully; for a long moment, she didn’t respond to him and finally said simply, “okay.”

“See you in the morning,” he watched her walk down the hall, no more than 10 rooms away. He tried not to watch her ass, he tried to focus on all of her from the curve of her neck to the sway of her hips. She glanced back at him as she pulled out her room key; for the first time, she offered him a real smile, and even from down the hall, he saw a blush rise in her cheeks.

He launched his bag across the room to his bed and strode right into the bathroom to crank on the shower. Chris’s mind was racing. She was here. Y/N was here. She was down the hall, right now, and had been for days. He stripped out of the sweats and T-shirt sticking to his body and stepped into the warm water; he probably should’ve gone with a cold shower after seeing her; his whole body was tingling and excited. He was sweating again, he was anxious, and he was coursing with adrenaline.

He was positive, absolutely certain, he’d never have a chance to see her again. When he’d walked out of her DC apartment that night in a fit of stubborn stupidity, he’d hated himself every step of the way…

Chris shoved open the last door and let the cool night air hit him in the face. He couldn’t believe how stupid he was. How had he not seen it was her the moment his eyes fell on her? How had he taken this long to realize that it was Y/N? And more importantly, how was he a big enough dick that he’d just walked out on her after chasing her down and forcing his way into her apartment tonight.

“Fuck,” he muttered to himself. No wonder she’d rejected him. No wonder she's pushed him away. He was impulsive and expected her to jump into his arms with one big gesture. He’d expected that even after he’d misled her about Jessica. Even after he’d spent two hours up against her and flirting with her without realizing who she was. And shit, the comment about other women…

Had fame really done this to him? He had a little taste of being famous with one big movie and it had gone to his head this fast? Did he really have his head so far up his own ass that he didn’t realize the girl of his dreams was standing in front of him? He’d been thinking about her for years– what the fuck was wrong with him? How… HOW had he not realized? He hadn’t been up close to her in seven years but it didn’t mean he hadn’t pictured her, hadn’t seen her pictures….

Chris was cocky, that wasn’t a secret. He knew he was hot shit, he knew that women fell at his feet, and he knew that he enjoyed their attention. He bought them drinks, took them to bed, and didn’t call because he didn’t have to… there was always someone else. But never who he wanted.

Because she’d walked out of that shitty little Boston apartment and he hadn’t stopped comparing every woman’s laugh to hers. He’d followed her basketball career, showing up at any game in LA or Boston without her knowing. He’d watched her stats and seen her success. He’d been proud to see her play live, hiding in the upper levels of stadiums to avoid being noticed, dragging his brother or sisters along whenever he could to be able to blame them if anyone asked why he was there. They’d never asked why they were there. But they’d cornered him one Christmas after they’d all talked and all realized that they’d all been dragged to women’s collegiate basketball games… and always the same team… and then Scott had gotten on the school’s website and recognized that one face from when they were teenagers…

His family knew. His close friends knew. They all knew how bad Chris had it for Y/N.

And yet here he fucking was, standing outside her apartment after he’d stormed out for absolutely no good reason.

He should go back in; he should walk back up the stairs to pound on the door and demand she open it.

But he didn’t.

He sat down on the curb, grateful it was late and there were only a few passing cars on this side street. Chris sat on the curb, his head in his hands, and loathed every part of his being. He decided to sit out here and wait for her to come out. She’d have to leave eventually and he would be here to grovel. He wouldn’t make excuses, he’d be honest– that he was a self-centered asshat who didn’t know his head from his ass and should’ve known immediately who she was.

It wasn’t until almost an hour later when Y/N’s friends, including Annie who he recognized from that fateful weekend and the weeks after, came stumbling out of a cab.

“Christopher Evans,” she slurred, pointing a finger at him as the other girls piled out and into the building, “you hurt her again, didn’t you.”

“Annie,” he said in acknowledgment, not responding to the rest of her statement.

“You’re a dick.” She walked by him and towards the door. He hadn’t realized she’d seen him in there too; of course, she had. He followed her to the door when she whipped around, “You will not come in here!”

“I shouldn’t have walked out on her, please, Annie.”

She crossed her arms over her chest and stared at him, watching him beg. She’d done it before, sitting in that park, listening to him plead his case. She had the same look on her face then– one that he couldn’t read; he took a step towards her.

“Annie,” he pleaded, “I know I messed up last time, I don’t want to do it again. I’m not dating anyone, I’m entirely single. I compare her kisses to everyone I’ve ever kissed. Let me go back up there and fix this before it’s too late. I can fix this.”

“Fuck you,” Her words were venomous– a best friend defending her territory– but her tone was a purr; Chris took a startled step back as she prowled towards him. She closed the gap between them quickly though and put her hands on his chest. “C’mon, Evans,” her voice was low, and her hand was dragging across his pecs.

“What the hell, Annie,” he kept walking backward, stumbling over the curb and into the street.

“You can fuck me instead,” she was keeping pace with him; “you can’t have her, I won’t let you near her, but I’ll let you fuck me.”

He threw his hands up in the air as far away from her as possible, “not what I’m here for, Annie, I’m just here for Y/N.”

“I think you just want to get your dick wet, and I can be that for you.”

“I’m out of here,” Chris mumbled, shoving his hands in his pocket and finishing the walk across the street to the other sidewalk. Annie watched him go and he didn’t look back– not at her. He looked back across the street and up at the window that was still lit… the one where the curtain fluttered and he watched a feminine figure disappear into the recesses of the room.

He sat in his room now in Prague picturing that night and the feelings that coursed through him. The residual regret and disgust in himself were present every time he allowed himself to think of that night and how he’d handled it. He stepped out of the shower and toweled off, pulling on sweats and a t-shirt and ordering room service in hopes that some food in his stomach and a beer in his hand would settle his mind to think about what he wanted to say to her tomorrow.

Y/N stared out the window of her room at the bustling city getting ready for a Friday evening. People were going home from work, headed to get drinks, and bringing children home from the park and school. People all around her were going about their business, but she couldn’t.

Chris was down the hall. The last time she’d seen him, it was his retreating form across R Street and down the corner where he’d disappeared and she’d never seen him again. She’d allowed herself to see his movies, and she didn’t run away from his image as she had after the last blow to her ego. She was happy for him and proud of him. She was grateful for those two special nights in Vermont and Boston that had made her feel good. Time had given her perspective to appreciate that they were special moments and to let them be what they were– fun and flirty and nothing more. That night he’d walked out of her apartment in DC had hurt the worst….

Annie charged into Y/N’s apartment, kicking off her heels and finding the girls sitting on Y/N’s kitchen floor eating Bagel Bites and chugging water, giggling over their recap of the night. Annie continued through the apartment to find Y/N curled up on the sofa in sweatpants and a Bucknell sweatshirt she hadn’t seen in ages.

“Y/N… what are you wearing,” Annie sighed, dropping on the sofa next to her and pinching the sweatshirt between her fingers. Y/N shrugged, not responding but tucking in on herself more. Annie saw the puffy eyes and quivering lip. “He’s not worth it.”

“I know.”

“He’s an ass just trying to get some ass.”

“I don’t think he was, Annie, I don’t think I should've pushed him.”

Annie shrugged, propping her feet on the coffee table, “If he can’t handle being challenged then he couldn't handle a relationship.”

“He just wanted so much so fast. He was ready to jump in and be something but earlier tonight…” Y/N trailed off and twisted the sleeve of the sweatshirt in her fingers. It didn’t smell like him anymore, but she hadn’t allowed herself to get rid of it. She’d always intended to give it back to him that night in Boston but she’d left it at Annie’s dorm and then it had all fallen apart. All these years later she kept it tucked in the back of her closet when she wanted to be reminded of him.

Annie huffed, “he just came onto me, Y/N. Forget him.”

Y/N’s eyes widened, “what?”

“Yeah, he just asked me to go home with him. He did it when he kept calling me in Boston too. I had to chase him into the street and tell him off!” She rolled her eyes, “he’s a pig.”

Tears started to stream down Y/N’s face again, “I can’t believe he’d do that.”

Annie shrugged, “do you want some Bagel Bites? I’m going to get some before they’re all gone.”

Y/N shook her head and got up off the sofa, retreating to her bedroom. Her friends had stayed the night, taking up spaces on the sofa, and Annie eventually came in to share Y/N’s bed. Everyone had gone home the next morning hungover and talking about going out that night, but Y/N had crawled back to her bed after she locked the door behind her and cried.

Annie would’ve teased her, but Y/N had always believed in love at first sight because of Chris. She’d never admitted that the feeling she got when she first giggled at him in the lift line– when he was blushing madly and they couldn't stop making eye contact– was a feeling she’d been chasing her entire life. No one had made her feel that again. She’d only ever felt it again twice more: the night in Boston while he touched her and kissed her and for a fleeting moment last night when he’d slid into the cab next to her– when she realized this might actually work out.

Over greasy McDonald’s breakfast (the perfect hangover cure), Annie had gone on and on about Chris, despite the looks Sasha and Jenna kept throwing at her when they saw tears welling in Y/N’s eyes. She’d finally relayed the story about their meetup in Boston, when he’d claimed it was to get Y/N’s number and talked to her but, according to Annie, he’d hit on her the whole time. She said the same thing happened in the street outside last night– that Chris had said he was waiting to take her home and that Y/N was far better off without that sleazy fuckboy.

On the way to the elevators, Y/N glanced at Chris’s door, hoping that fate would call him out to the hallway; when she sensed no movement behind it, she continued to the elevator and then the lobby where Rachel dragged her into the bustling streets and to a restaurant she’d had recommended to her by one of the bartenders.

Dinner was easy enough; Rachel relentlessly pried Y/N for details about how she knew the stupidly handsome Chris Evans well enough to leave them both speechless. Y/N dodged the questions for a while as Rachel continued to top off her wine and eventually, the story tumbled out of her. She couldn’t stop herself; she needed someone to talk to– her feelings were too raw and emotional– she started in Killington and ended in the hallway, filling in as many gaps between as Rachel listened carefully and responded, to Y/N’s surprise, supportively.

“Sounds like you’d be stupid not to give him a chance again. It seems like the universe is telling you that you have to.” Y/N finished the last medovnik and dropped her fork while Rachel continued. “I’ve only ever been in love once, and I didn’t feel half as excited to see her as you do when you talk about Chris.”

“I don’t know if I’m in love with him, I hardly know him,” she sat back in her seat, tossing her crumpled napkin on the table next to her dessert. “And I just… I can’t…” She kept dropping her sentence while avoiding eye contact with Rachel.

Like a good therapist, Rachel caught onto the deflection and pounced; “Sounds like you’ve got more on your mind.”

“I do.”

“Spill,” she leaned forward and propped her chin in her hands, “I have the company card to buy dinner and I’m not paying until you get it all out.”

“I can’t get past the Annie part.”

“That he hit on her?”

Y/N nodded, “I just can’t stop thinking about that– that he’d claimed he wanted me but would then go hit on Annie and try to take her home– twice.”

Rachel was quiet for a moment, “did you talk to Annie about it?”

“Yeah, but she always blew it off and called him names before she changed the subject.”

“Talk to her again, it’s been years now, see if she’ll talk about it. She was probably embarrassed or ashamed that she might’ve shown interest when you were clearly involved.”

Y/N paused, playing with the tablecloth, “We’re not really friends anymore.”

Rachel’s eyebrows shot up, “oh? Why’s that?”

“We had a falling out about six months after that night with Chris.” Rachel was silent as she let Y/N gather her thoughts and continue.

“She slept with my boyfriend.”

“Come again.”

Y/N nodded, “I met this guy Brandon pretty soon after the whole thing with Chris happened. I liked him, he wasn’t going to be the one but we had fun. We all went to a Halloween party, I got too drunk and my friends took me home. The next morning I went to Annie’s to return the shoes I’d worn out… and Brandon was leaving. We ran into each other on the street, he came clean immediately and was at least decent enough to be apologetic before I obviously ended things. I went up to confront Annie and she lied to my face. I walked out and never went back. I took the shoes with me.”

Rachel didn’t say anything for several long heartbeats before she said, “so you’re telling me that she slept with your boyfriend and lied to you and you’re concerned about what happened with her and Chris?”

“Yes.”

“Y/N, you know what happened with them.”

“Huh?”

“Sweetie, you’re smart. Nothing happened with her and Chris. She lied to you then too.”

“I don’t know, Rachel, before that night with Brandon she was my closest friend in the world, why would she have made that up?”

Rachel rolled her eyes but said nothing, flagging down the waiter for the check. They walked back to the hotel with Rachel running her mouth again, although this time, Y/N had more patience for it; it had been a while since she had someone she could talk to…

“I’m going to head to the bar for a nightcap,” Rachel said over her shoulder as she marched away, leaving Y/N at the elevators. “Good luck!”

Y/N spun her ring on her finger while she waited for the car to arrive and rode up alone and in silence to the seventh floor. She made her way slowly down the hallway, pausing again outside his door and hearing the low hum of the television from inside. She hesitated, raising her hand to knock before dropping it and scurrying to her room.

Once inside, she plopped on the bed and continued to play with her ring, twisting it over and over again while her mind coursed through every single second she’d ever spent in Chris’s presence.

In total, it was less than 48 hours.

What was she thinking, throwing around words like love and soulmates for someone she hardly knew? She knew him better from his IMDB profile than she knew him. This was just lust, right? It had to be just lust. Just wanting something she’d never had.

And yet…

She knew what it was like to see his passion spark when he talked about something or someone he loved. That hadn’t changed in any of the moments they spent together.

She knew what it was like to see him look deeply into her eyes and listen to her bare her soul about her fears of failure, her secret hopes to help those who couldn’t help themselves and never ever laugh at her.

She knew what it was like to feel the weight of his hand on her waist bring comfort and solace, even when her anxiety was spiking.

She knew what it was like to watch those blue eyes take in her lips and watch her carefully before he kissed her.

This couldn’t just be lust.

She groaned loudly and forced herself off the bed and into the bathroom to change into her soft, mauve pajamas. She washed the makeup off her face and brushed the wine out of her mouth, swishing the water around and trying to concentrate on the feeling of the water in her mouth, the mint on her tongue… anything to keep her mind off the mountain of muscle down the hall.

Chris had sworn that he’d heard someone slow to a stop outside his door. He could’ve sworn he saw the shadow of two thin, lovely legs and the sound of hurried breathing before a quick rustle of feet on the carpet moving quickly away.

Then again, he was positive he’d heard someone outside his door every 15 minutes for the last three hours. The first four times he’d gotten up off the bed and checked the peephole. The fifth time it had startled him because it was actually room service. The sixth time, and every time after that, he forced himself to stay sprawled on the bed munching french fries and trying to pay attention to Big Bang Theory reruns.

No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t focus on Leonard and Penny, and Sheldon. He couldn’t keep his attention on their chaos and silly drama. All he could think about was Y/N. She was in the same city once again and he was bound and determined to make tomorrow morning the most important date she’d ever been on. He yanked his phone out to look up restaurants when he saw a text.

Scott: you dead? i havent heard from you all week Chris: basically Chris: you’re never going to guess who’s down the hall right now Scott replied quickly: Cher Chris: lol nope… Scott: … Madonna? Chris: … Y/N

Chris’s phone rang immediately and he picked up quickly, “what the fuck, have you talked to her?”

“I’m taking her to breakfast tomorrow.”

“Where? You know it has to be perfect. Was she mad? How did she seem? Did she hug you? TELL ME EVERYTHING!”

Chris laughed, shifting off the bed to his laptop to continue looking for breakfast choices, “she was nervous but she didn’t turn me down on the spot.”

“Christopher Robert, I may have broken her ankle but if you break this girl’s heart one more time, I’m going to break your face. Do you know how many shitty stadium hot dogs I had to eat while you pined for her? Do you know what an idiot you were in DC? Do you know how much I’d love to throat punch you for taking so goddamn long to fix this?”

Chris laughed before sucking in a breath and letting the pause linger; he quietly said, “what if I can’t fix it? What if she doesn’t want me?”

“Then you close the door on it for good, but you’ve always wondered. After you were a complete fool in DC you’ve never dated the same way. You’ve held everyone at arm’s length.”

Chris was quiet, thinking about Scott’s answer. Scott continued to talk; he’d opened his own laptop and was Googling from his apartment in LA, offering suggestions and reading menus out loud while Chris did the same.

He didn’t hear the knock the first time over Scott’s ranting about not being invited to Prague and therefore not being there to help Chris win Y/N back.

At the sound of the second knock, Chris froze and went silent. “Shut up,” he told his brother, refusing to move from the desk… he refused to believe it was real. No one was knocking at 10 pm.

A heavy sigh on the other side of the door made Chris’s gaze yank quickly away from his computer screen and to the crack between the carpet and the door: a shadow.

The shadow shuffled and he heard a quiet, “this is stupid,” before it disappeared.

Chris launched out of the desk chair and across the room, dropping his phone on the desk with his brother’s shouting, “WHAT IS HAPPENING,” into the earpiece. Chris yanked open the door and charged into the hallway.

She was retreating to her room, clad in all pink, her hair piled on her head, and in just socks.

Chris had enough forethought to pull the latch through the door to keep it from locking behind him and he took three large steps to come face-to-face with Y/N.

“I couldn't wait until morning,” she said quietly, her hands twisting in front of her.

He grabbed her hands to still them, pulling them around his neck and dipped his lips to kiss her.

Taglist: @bellaireland1981 @before-we-get-started @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @elrw24 @maylaysia109 @royalwritersoftheuniversesverses

[renthony]

would you drop a tier list of your most & least favorite tlovm characters and why? :) I love seeing new people get into it!

Oooooh, I don't have a tier template on hand, and trying to rank them in order sounds hard anyway, because I don't think there are any characters I don't like. So here are my thoughts about all the main party members, plus my favorite side characters!

Percy - My one true blorbo from this series. Baby boy gun man. Someone please hug him and let him take a nap. I have imprinted on him like a duckling. I technically finished my cosplay but I'm already working on plans for future upgrades. My husband also wants to figure out how to rig up an Orthax puppet/costume so he can loom over my shoulder in photos or at cons. Percy is my baby.

Vex - My WIFE. She's got the only brain cell in the party half the time, she's got a war bear, she's even bisexual (is that canon? idk if it's canon, but it's canon to ME!!! no one in this party is straight!!!!!!!) I don't know that I'd be quite as into Perc'ahlia just yet if I didn't know some of their endgame, but I fucking adore everything I've seen from their dynamic so far in season 2. They're adorable.

Vax - I didn't dislike Vax at first, but I wasn't quite sure how I'd feel about him. He grew on me really fast, though! I fucking adore every interaction he has with Gilmore, his snark delights me, and I really love what's going on with him and the Raven Queen. I like death-associated characters and I like angst, and whatever's happening with him right now is ticking both those boxes.

Grog - He did exactly what Magnus Burnsides from the Adventure Zone did for me--I started off feeling kinda indifferent toward them both, because "generic smash-smash fighter dude" is usually boring to me, but there's just so much heart. He's funny, he's sweet, he's just so damn genuine. I'm worried about my guy Grog, man. Did he learn nothing from Percy's evil gun last season? GROG, PLEASE!

Pike - I love Pike. Her story with the Everlight in season one really hit me hard, and I think it's so cool to have a devout holy character who curses, drinks, fucks, and doesn't adhere to the "religious people are all stuffy, uptight bigots" stereotype. And her friendship with Grog gives me life, holy shit. I love them.

Keyleth - I ADORE Keyleth. Actual literal Disney princess. I've heard vague mutterings that she's got divisive appeal in the fandom, but I think she's really fun, and I like that she's still learning and figuring her shit out. I like that she's cute and sweet, and I think she really helps balance out the darker moments of the show. I also really appreciate that she gets to be cute and sweet and silly, but is still clearly an adult. She gets drunk, she swears, she isn't a naive infant. Too many kindhearted characters get treated as stupid or childish for it and it annoys me a lot.

Scanlan - I thought I was going to hate Scanlan. I am so tired of horny bards played by people who don't respect consent and think that comedy gives them a free pass to be a fucking asshole who pushes everyone's buttons. But Scanlan isn't that. Yeah, he's horny, and he's over-the-top, and sometimes he's abrasive--but he respects consent, he's not some dickhead macho guy trying to prove he's the most masculine in the room, and he's got a lot of depth to him beneath the snark. Season 2 Scanlan is genuinely breaking my fucking heart, because I want him to be happy so bad.

Gilmore - I fucking love him and want to see way more of him. I don't know if I want to fuck him or be him. He is the distilled essence of what I find aesthetically attractive in a man, and he's a flirtatious snarker, and he can do magic?! The only reason he's not my #1 fave is because that's how much I love Percy.

Sylas & Delilah - My bisexual ass wants to be in that evil sandwich. Goddamn. Also Delilah is totally valid, I would also do horrible crimes against nature to bring my husband back from the dead. She did nothing wrong. Yes I love Percy, yes Delilah did nothing wrong, I contain multitudes. She broke the world for him!!! SHE BROKE THE WORLD!!!! Evil twisted love, baby!!!!!!!

Allura - I was kinda meh on her at first but she's really growing on me in the new season. She's an exhausted put-upon sapphic with the only brain cell on the continent, bless her. I was glad to see she got out of the city.

So yeah! :D

[goshdangronpa]

“I-I’m sorry,” the girl stammers, then steels herself. “Um … my name’s Mikan Tsumiki. I’m the Ultimate Nurse. A moment ago, you p-passed out. I was only taking off your choker to make sure you could breathe …” She braces, as if anticipating a punch. “Th-that’s why my hands were on your … um … your throat …”

This - the first scene in “I DISAGREE: An Ibuki Mioda SDR2 Protag Swap AU,” echoing the first scene from SDR2 - is Ibuki Mioda’s first interaction with Mikan Tsumiki. She sees nothing to forgive. She sees someone trying to help an unconscious stranger, caught in a situation so awkward it’s funny. And endearing.

She decides that they’re friends now.

Bacterial Contamination: Mikan Tsumiki, Ultimate Despair

Less than a week later, Ibuki’s reeling from a disturbing realization. That morning, she’d been thrilled to find Mikan beside her in bed for the second night in the row. She has her own assigned room, and each hotel room has two beds. Yet there she was, subverting that "only one bed" ship fic trope, snug and warm with Ibuki. Quite warm, in fact … Noticeably warmer than the day before …

It’s true. After being in more constant contact with the patients than anyone else, Mikan Tsumiki caught the Despair Disease. That’d be true, I reckon, in just about any universe where she’s the Ultimate Nurse during such an outbreak. And once again, she’s the reason two of her classmates are dead.

What’s different in this AU is that she doesn’t even have to carry out any murders herself. With Chiaki already in a malicious mood and Kazuichi already spoiling for a fight, kicking off the killing game was as simple as opening their doors. The only other necessary task was retrieving a weapon for Kazuichi, to even the playing field. I can’t think of a good idea for how she finds Byakuya’s hiding spot and gets Peko’s sword, but she does (I’m sure glad this is just a series of speculative posts and not a fleshed-out fanfic or a full-on fan game!). Very little work on her part, and very little risk …

Or so she believed. Remember, Monokuma suggested that if anyone died at this makeshift hospital, the medical staff might be considered guilty. When Kazuichi returned from his fight with serious wounds on his chest, Mikan had to patch him up so he wouldn’t bleed out. The bandaging jobs was so professional, in fact, that no one else could’ve done it. Her efforts to save her own skin only gave away her role in the night’s slaughter.

“And she gets to live?” Nagito asserts with surprising coldness. With the trial already over, a new conversation threatens to break out among a group that threatens to become a mob. Once they start asking questions like “Could they even trust her around them?” and “What if she does it again?”, the responses could get real ugly real fast …

“But everything’s okay!” Ibuki asserts. “I mean, not okay okay. It’s all tragic. But Mikan’s okay now!” It had to be like what happened with Chiaki and Kazuichi, right? She only did something so horrible because that’s how the disease would affect such a sweet and caring girl, right? And Kazuichi and Nagito independently confirmed that their symptoms vanished in a snap after Monokuma’s bloody terms were met, so she’s fine now, right?

Ya know … she could be. This is a direction I could go. Mikan would have something to actually be sorry about, a strong reason to hate herself and shun all company. Ibuki could then insist on being her friend, resolute in her knowledge that all this only happened because she’s a good nurse and a good person. There’s room for drama, interpersonal conflict, Hiyoko going beyond her usual bullying into someplace darker, and redemption through love in a victory for hope. It absolves the girl of all actual guilt, making her easier to get behind. Removing the whole “one person murders the shit out of the other thing” also expunges all the toxicity that some people don’t like about any killer-victim ship.

That’d be great and all, and I would love to see an AU like that. But I’m taking this AU somewhere different. I can’t make the path to tsumioda so smooth and straightforward! Partly because I’m trying to stick with DR’s typical reluctance to canonize any pairings (Imposter’s right there too!), but mostly because I love the drama. So I’m spicing things up and making this ship problematic in a completely different way.

"It's all over, so she's fine now, right?!" Ibuki shouts. The response comes: "No, that's wrong!" Although Ibuki’s suggestion makes complete sense, Hajime awkwardly notes one problem. One could read pure altruism into Mikan stopping Kazuichi from bleeding to death - of course the nurse, faculties now recovered, would do anything she could to save a life. But such a severe wound would leave a trail of blood from the restaurant to his room. A trail that could’ve resolved the whodunnit a lot faster if it hadn’t vanished. Someone must’ve cleaned it, and cleaned it so well that they didn’t leave a trace. As with the bandaging job, only a professional could’ve done this so well.

Everyone presses Mikan for an explanation. 13 sets of eyes bore into hers. She laughs. “I was hoping to save this for later …” (I really thought about it!) “... but I can’t avoid it.” Just like in SDR2, Despair Disease hit Mikan differently than anyone else: instead of flipping personalities, she regains the one she had before they landed on that beach six days ago. And as Monokuma confirms, though the cheeky bastard won’t give away why just yet, personalities can flip back but memories regained aren’t so easily forgotten again. And what’s not just like in SDR2 is that they’re stuck with her.

Nagito, placed right between Mikan and Ibuki in the courtroom’s podium arrangement, lunges for the traitor. She breaks out with shocking force, knocking her former patient to the ground, then sprints away at an even more shocking speed. (I love the idea that Mikan’s a fast runner - a necessary skill for evading bullies and pulling off that otherwise impossible murder plot in SDR2 Chapter 3.) Making it to the elevator before anyone else, she exits Monokuma Rock by herself. The rest of the class will have to catch the next lift. By then, she’ll be long gone.

Gone. The person Ibuki had worked so hard to figure out, the girl with whom she managed to carve out some good memories out of some truly stressful days, the kind of close friend she’d hoped to make when she accepted the invite to Hope’s Peak … she’s gone. The thought crosses Ibuki’s mind that maybe that girl was never really there. She shudders.

Next week: the end of Chapter 1, for real.

PREV: The First Blackened

NEXT: Ending Chapter 1 with a Sleepover

[tightjeansjavi]

🍭& 🎈 for the asks <3

Ahh Mari, thank u for sending these in! 🩷

fic writer asks :

🎈 describe your style as a writer; is it fixed? does it change?

I think I would definitely describe my style of writing as being super descriptive. My goal is for my readers to be able to picture the scene they are reading in their mind. So I’m really big on facial expressions, body language, and I’m a whore for internal thoughts. I also unintentionally but in a way intentionally throw in my own little Easter eggs into my fics. Blue jeans has a lot of references to TLOU despite it being a fic where outbreak day never happens, but I still like to throw in references from the show where I see them to be fit. Another great example of this is in the last chapter of slow hands I used a few lines from the show and incorporated them into the dialogue. It’s little things like those that I mentioned that I want my readers to point out and be like OH! I see what gi did there! 👀 in way it makes the reader experience interactive for me if that makes any sense?

I would say that this style is pretty fixed for all of my writing, but I think my style has changed depending on the theme of the story that I’m writing. Darker themed fics I tend to rely heavy on emotions and vivid detail, but slow hands is just a story where I don’t really have to think, I just write whatever comes to mind and somehow it just ends up flowing together

🍭 why did you start writing?

So there’s honestly a few reasons why I started writing. The first was back in February when I was just starting to get involved in TLOU fanfom particularly, I had discovered that there was so much fanfic out there and I wanted to rip the bandaid off and dive in head first. I have written fanfic in the past before, but nothing to what I have been writing now. I think the main reason I started writing was to heal my inner child. I got made fun of in highschool non-stop for being the ‘pizza faced’ horse girl booknerd. I was reading all kinds of fics on Wattpad, ao3,fanfiction.net, tumblr, etc to escape from present reality. I spent my weekends reading and I didn’t think there was anything wrong with it (there isn’t. Reading/writing is something that should be nourished) I turned to fanfiction when I was dealing with trauma and I found that it was really helping me out, fast-forward a few years and I’m at my first big girl job in the corporate world and shit is hitting the fan. I turned to writing as my escape from work, and I haven’t turned back since.

I’m genuinely amazed with myself on just how much writing I have accomplished since February. blue jeans is currently at 84,737 words and I imagine it’ll definitely be well over 100k by the time I finish it.

BIAHD, my first ever Joel Miller series is currently at 94,433 words and it absolutely blows my mind on how much time and effort I have put into that series 🤎

-Gi

[ct-multifandom]

Evolution Things

I see you’ve all been sleeping on Alim Kubdel. Couldn’t be me <3 glad everyone’s waking up though. I’m glad to see him finally be relevant again

Also Alix ‘cause she didn’t do jack in s4???

I’m a bit confused about why adult Bunnyx was sending Alim in “our” time postcards instead of him in her time. Just so that he’d know she’s Bunnyx before it even happened? Plot bs?

Edit: I had this typed out and then I deleted it, but I saw other people mention it so I’ll edit it back in. Will Alix’s dad die??? I had the thought while watching that scene, but the tone was so cheerful I thought nahh it’s a kids show. If it’s true, though, NOOOOOO!!! Also, would it be something that happens during canon, or off-screen right between present and future Bunnyx time? Ik Alix is a pink-haired cartoon girl who just got her superpowers, but don’t orphan her! You have to make her the new MC of the series if you do. It’s anime law.

Edit 2 I can’t shut up: I remembered in Chat Blanc when people were theorizing that future Alix sentimentally holding on to this stuffed toy she won off Rose as a kid was meant to imply that Rose will succumb to her illness. If THAT’S true… *screaming and crying* if I had a nickel for every time future!Bunnyx showed up bringing a vague omen of someone’s impending death unrelated to the emergency at hand I’d have two nickels which isn’t a lot but it’s weird that it happened twice.

Okay a little fandom salt here, warning: I’m seeing everyone talk about how cute Cannigirl (?) is, and imma be real, I feel like Miss Hound, Flairmidable, and her all have similarly designed and equally good suits. But when Penalteam came out the majority of people were shitting on Miss Hound saying she looks ugly? Idk I think if Miss hound has a bad design then so does Cannigirl and if Cannigirl has a good design than so does Miss Hound. Maybe everyone’s just gotten used to the Barkk drip after the initial expectations vs reality reveal in 4-24 but I’m starting to think a lot of you guys just play favorites big time…

I love Alix’s hat tho. It’s so cute, it’s like a newsboy cap or a Donald Duck hat. I love how Sabrina had a dog ear beret and she had a dog ear cap. It’s different and fits their characters. I also love that it turns rabbit-themed when she unifies. I kinda wish it was part of her usual design? Attention fan artists who draw the kids in alternate outfits: I need more hatlix.

I’ve been waiting to see if baby Bunnyx looks different from the big one, and she does! The white part of her suit on her belly is shaped like a romper in the present while in the future it’s shaped like a crop top. Edit: baby bun doesn’t have the circle thingies oh her mask. Present!Bunnyx has a black inside on her umbrella instead of white. Future!Bunnyx keeps her normal hair and piercings when she transforms but little Alix doesn’t have piercings yet and her hair stays similar, but changes ever so slightly. It’s the same length on all sides, is styled a little differently, and is a darker shade of pink. Reminds me of Caprikid’s hair change.

The DJWifi kiss. Man people have been rightfully complaining for the past forever that we didn’t see them really interact in Animan before coming back on screen and going, “oh yeah btw we like each other now”. This was an admittedly very clever way of addressing that. Still a little weird that they became so serious so fast, but oh well, we don’t know how long the tension was building up before Origins ‘cause they’ve been close for a long time and Animan was just the tipping point.

It was also funny how they re-contextualized the taxi joke from Reverser. Turns out Scaredy-Chat wasn’t exaggerating too much!

Gabriel get drinked by Nathalie

I saw someone say Nathalie is finally growing a backbone. More like she’s wearing one as an exoskeleton. She has a literal spine of steel now, but at what cost.

Something that I find really interesting is Alix talking about her interest in engineering. This is pretty much new info for us and it adds context to future Alix’s shirt with the gear with rabbit ears. It could also lead to development in her undeveloped friendship with Max by giving them something in common beyond being aspec.

They keep dropping new hobbies for the cast beyond their “one defining cartoon character interest”. They tell us that Kim likes running and swimming, Max likes playing games and programming, Marc likes writing, and also soccer/football. But I noticed that they’ve also gotten into talking about the kids’ career aspirations. Nino likes to DJ, but he wants to direct films. Luka likes playing music, but he plans to make stringed instruments for a living. Juleka likes music too, and she likes cosmetology, but she dreams of modeling. Alix likes skating and street art, but she plans to become an engineer.

Adrien has no idea what he likes, and Marinette has too many things to choose from, so it’s interesting to watch these side characters start to figure out their futures first. Ik a timeskip to the kids as adults wasn’t in the plans for s6/s7 as announced a long time ago by Astruc, but I’d love to see them grow up and have these different hobbies vs jobs. Who will follow their current interests into the pro level and who will take a totally unexpected path? I’m looking forward to seeing more of this from others in the present.

I hope they will do the pattern of recovering a miraculous one at a time and giving it to the holder permanently. As exciting as the love square resolution is, miraculous is so lonely to me without the side characters. Idk how it’d work out with the rings, like is the kwami actually in there? Is stealing a ring the same as recovering the miraculous? But we’ll see. They can’t episodically shoehorn meaningful side character moments into episodes that aren’t really about them.

Maybe the whole season is just the cat, bug, and rabbit, but that doesn’t make sense to me. If the show was originally planned to end at s5, you’re telling me the hero team was just never coming back until post-canon? That some of them were meant to have a combined screen time of 2 minutes over the whole show? It makes no sense. Plus, why drop transformation phrases for the Penalteam heroes if they’re not gonna actually transform for over a season? Chat said it himself, we’re getting them back one by one.

Maybe each and every episode won’t feature the hero for its miraculous, but they’ll get the kwami back anyways and make the holder permanent later at a time that makes sense? Idk

Gabriel dumbed his last ass

Nathalie spit in Gabe’s eyes challenge

If I want anyone to have a redemption arc it’s her come on bbgirl I believe in you

Alix dodgeball master

Poor 1940s Barkk is so innocent. She doesn’t know what’s coming. I mean, they pulled her out of Nazi-occupied France, so comparatively the present is in a much better place, but still.

Rabbit Noir was so cute. The neon blue under-eye weirdly works, but I feel like they could’ve done something different with the tails.

Let’s drink to all the Alix screen time yet to come. I told myself that my one expectation for this episode would be good Alix time, and I got it, so I must say I’m happy. Return of the queen.

About Multiplication: idk if Mylene will be relevant to this plot considering she wasn’t in the trailer and it’s gonna be big Adrienette time, but in Mega Leech the filter thing they were protesting was a Tsurugi company product, and Ikari Gozen is quite literally a Tsurugi car. Could there be a connection? Is Mylene gonna bring her environmental concerns up to Tomoe directly? Will she help defeat her? No clue how they’re actually gonna do it ‘cause no lucky charm or cataclysm alone will defeat an army of giant samurai sports car centaurs deliberately wrecking Paris. (If you steal the mouse ring off one of the clones will it be the same as taking it when they’re all combined?)

[nhlandotherimagines]

Everything About You- Mitch Marner

@natbarzal @anastasiyaigorevnadobrodevskaya @jonnytoews19 

And they blurbs continue! Here is number 10 of the Up All Night series, with the one and only Mitch Marnie ❤️

I had a lot of fun writing this one, but just a heads up it contains a lot of crying, infidelity (not by Mitch or Y/n but still), anxiety/panic attacks, loss of a loved one, and of course some friends to lovers fluff in there too! I hope you all enjoy it ❤️❤️❤️

You know I've always got your back, girl, so let me be the one you come running to, running to, running

Today has not been your day at all. Work totally kicked your ass, and now this! “Isaac what the hell?” Your voice cracks a little, but you can’t bring yourself to be embarrassed. All you feel at this moment is rage, because your boyfriend of two years is sitting in your shared living room with some other girls’ tongue down his throat.

“Y/n! You’re home early!” He practically pushes the girl to the floor in an attempt to look innocent.

“Oh I’m sorry! Was that inconvenient for you? Please ignore me and go back to business, I’ll just be in OUR bedroom!” You’re yelling now, moving with purpose towards your bedroom. Slamming the door behind you, you pull your phone out of your pocket. Eyes filling with tears, you press on his contact as fast as you can trying to keep your composure.

“Hey Y/n! What’s up?” Mitch’s voice is sing-songy like it always is, but today it does little to make you feel better.

“I need you to come get me...” your voice trails off as your whole body begins trembling. “Isaac c-cheated and I just, I need to go. Please.” You’re crying now. So much so that you don’t register much of Mitch’s response, aside from him promising he’d be there soon.

———

“Where is she?” Mitch is angry, you can hear it from down the hall. Mitch doesn’t get angry though, and you quickly realize this might become a much bigger problem very quickly.

“Get lost Mitch.” Isaac spits at him, and your breath hitches in your throat. You don’t make out the words that leave Mitch’s mouth next, but you do hear a crash as your feet carry you towards the front door as fast as they can move.

“Mitch don’t!” The words leave your mouth faster than you have time to take in the scene before you. Mitch is gripping the collar of Isaac’s hoodie, and has him pushed up against the wall. Both men turn to you when they hear your voice, and you’re thankful, because it looked as though Mitch was ready to swing. “Please let’s just go.” Your voice and eyes plead with Mitch, and it has his heart breaking. He lets go of Isaac, but not without giving him a shove first.

“You’re not going with him.” Isaac announces, sending Mitch a dirty look.

“Watch me,” you shoot back at him before turning to Mitch. “Can you come help grab my bags please?”

And he does. The whole while Isaac cursing and swearing under his breath, and you easily ignore him. That is until you’re slipping your jacket and shoes on. “I don’t see what your fucking problem is! You’re the one whoring around with the entire leafs roster.” His words have you seeing red, and thankfully Mitch can read you like a book. He wraps a hand gently around your bicep, but hard enough that in your attempt to lunge at Isaac he holds you back.

“For the record asshole, Y/n hasn’t so much as looked at anyone on the team in a suggestive way. So some time in between being a dipshit, get your facts straight.” Mitch’s voice is cool and collected, and it eases your mind as he pulls you and your bags out of the apartment.

As you make your way to Mitch’s car, you feel numb. The whole situation runs through your brain over and over, but somehow you remain emotionless. Slipping into the front seat, you wait as Mitch loads your things into the back. You’re so in your head, you barely notice him get in and start the car.

“I’m sorry I called you, but I didn’t know what else to do.” Your voice is hardly above a whisper, but Mitch hears you loud and clear. He immediately pulls the car back into the spot he just pulled out of, slamming the car right back into park causing your body to jerk forward slightly.

“Do not apologize to me, are you serious?” You turn to him, and he sends you a sad smile taking your hands in his. “I am so happy you called me! I want to be the person you call when you need something. Anything! I will come running anytime anywhere if you need me! Do you understand?”

The emotions that you hadn’t been able to find just moments ago find you now in full force. Tears steadily stream down your face, and all you can do is nod as Mitch pulls you awkwardly into his chest. The centre console digs into your ribs, but the pain doesn’t compare to the ache in your heart. Besides, in the comfort of your best friend’s arms, you’ve never felt more safe.

I see it's just a matter of fact, girl. You just call my name, I'll be coming through, coming through, I'll keep coming.

Living with Mitch was the easiest, yet hardest, thing you’ve ever done. Your plan was to move back home to your parents place, but Mitch pouted and complained about not being able to see you. So after hours of lighthearted arguments, you decided to stay. You fit well with Mitch, but there is one thing that is starting to become an issue. His teammates.

“Where’s your girlfriend?” Will chirps the moment Mitch and a few of his teammates arrive to pregame before going out for drinks. Somehow Mitch’s place always gets offered up as a place to host these get togethers. Sure, you love all the guys, and they are your friends too, but the whole ‘girlfriend’ chirp was getting old fast.

“Still not his girlfriend!” You call out, peaking around the corner to let the boys know you’re in the kitchen. You got a head start on the drinking, and are currently pouring yourself a hefty glass of wine.

“Great, so you’re free to go on a date with me then.” Will winks at you as he leans against the counter beside you.

“Absolutely not!” Mitch pipes in before you even can formulate a response. Everyone’s head snaps towards Mitch, and his cheeks seem to turn a shade darker. “I’m not letting her date any of you, she could do a million times better! No offence Willy.”

“Oh none taken.” Will manages to get out while stifling a laugh.

———

The bar was packed, you knew it would be. You had insisted you would just stay home, because it was the boys night to celebrate their win, but Mitch wasn’t having it. So here you were trying to find your way to the bar for another drink. Bodies all around you, bumping into you, spilling drinks, and it felt hard to breath.

As your hands start to shake, you abandon the idea of another drink and instead turn to head back towards the group. Your breath hitches in your throat as you turn to see a sea of people. You try and push your way through, but with every step you begin to feel smaller. Your entire body begins to shake, every small brush of a limb against you has your head spinning. Panic sets into your bones, as your heart begins to race. Your eyes frantically scan the crowd looking for Mitch, as you begin wringing your hands together anxiously.

“Shit. Shit. Shit. Where is Mitch?” You begin muttering to yourself. Obsessively repeating his name to yourself as if you’d forget who it was you were looking for if you stop. Of course you had to ask him to hold onto your cellphone for you!

Tears sting your eyes, and the anxiety wracking your body manifests itself into fear now. It feels as though everyone is staring at you like you’re crazy, and you don’t feel safe here. Unable to find your bearings in a room that seems to be spinning around you, you do the only thing you know how to. You call out for Mitch.

His name falls from your lips, and you know how pathetic it sounds, but you don’t care. You’re just praying that he hears you, so you call out for him again. “Mitch! Where are you?!” People are definitely staring now, but you feel like you’re moments away from passing out.

A hand grips your shoulder causing you to jump back. As you whip your head around to see who grabbed you, your eyes are met by a very concerned Mitch. You fall against his chest, and he holds you close as you try to not fall apart.

You barely register the fact that Mitch is leading you through the crowd, aside from the fact your feet are moving. You still have your face pressed into his chest as the two of you step out of the bar.

“Hey what’s wrong?” His voice is soft as he runs a hand through your hair softly. You can’t respond with words. Instead you squeeze your fists tighter in his shirt, as your body begins to tremble against him. The tears, mixed with your makeup, will surely stain his shirt, but you can’t stop. “Woah! Shh don’t cry, it’s okay I’m here.” Mitch rubs your back in slow circles as you desperately cling to him. You stay like that for awhile, but soon enough you come to your senses and feel like a total idiot. You pull away from Mitch abruptly, and turn away from him aggressively wiping at your face. “God I’m sorry Mitch! I’m such a baby!” You groan. You’re angry at yourself, and super embarrassed. So much so, that if it weren’t for the fact your phone was still in Mitch’s pocket, you would have just ran away.

“Y/n?” His voice sounds so unsure, yet so soft. You can’t bring yourself to look at him just yet, but you do turn back towards him. “I shouldn’t have let you go to the bar alone, I’m sorry. Did someone hurt you? Because I swear to god I will go in there and fight for you no questions asked.” He adds a little chuckle at the end, but his tone gives away the fact he’s telling the truth. You have no doubts Mitch would fight for you, it’s why you love him.

Holy shit. You love Mitch!

“N-no one hurt me Mitch I just, I don’t know. I got overwhelmed, and scared. I didn’t have my phone, and I couldn’t find you a-and I just shut down. God I’m so stupid! I’m an adult and I can’t even get a drink for myself.” You stare at your feet, willing the tears away that once again threaten to fall down your cheeks. In a moment, Mitch has your face in his hands tilting your head up, forcing you to look in his eyes.

“Stop that.” His eyes are looking into yours like he’s trying to read your mind. “You are so far from stupid! I’m sorry I didn’t find you faster, I’m sorry I let you go alone. You’re okay now though alright? Let’s go home yeah?” You nod, but neither of you dare to move. His face is only inches from yours, and you use this moment to just take him in. He’s absolutely beautiful. His hair falling over his forehead, his perfect skin, his blue eyes, his lips. He’s perfect. You realize you’ve been staring at his lips a beat too long when he licks his lip. The action pulls you from your daze, and you let your eyes wander back up to his, which are focused on your own lips. Your breath catches in your throat as his eyes meet yours again.

“We should go.” You awkwardly clear your throat, completely ruining whatever that was. Mitch slowly drops his hands back to his sides, shaking his head lightly.

“Yeah let’s go.”

On the other side of the world, it don't matter, I'll be there in two, I'll be there in two, I'll be there in two

Loss is something that everyone will experience at least once in their life. You have had your fair share, but none to date hurt quite like this one. Losing someone so close to your heart, and being completely alone. Your family all in a completely different province, your best friend is in a completely different country playing hockey, and you are laying completely still. Unable to move from the spot you collapsed into after the conversation with your mom.

Death wasn’t new to you, but being alone certainly was. So all you could do was cry.

You only lift your head from the pillow when your phone rings. A picture of you and Mitch flashes on the screen, letting you know he wants to FaceTime.

“Hey Mitch, how was the game?” You ask after accepting the call, but keeping your camera off.

“The game was good... did you not watch it?” He asks, rightfully confused, because you had told him you’d watch it.

“Oh well uh- something came up I’m sorry.” Your excuse is poor, but not entirely untrue. Mitch might have even let you away with it, if it weren’t for the small sniffle you let out at the end.

“Y/n are you crying?” You see the concern written on his face, as a fresh batch of tears start falling. “Please turn the camera on.”

You listen to him, no energy left in you to argue. As you see your face pop up on the screen you immediately regret it. You look awful, and Mitch’s eyes soften when he sees you. “I’m fine Mitch I just- Mom called me, and I’m just having a rough night. It just sucks being alone.”

“Is everything okay?” He questions, but you can tell he’s trying not to be pushy. All you can do is shake your head, more tears falling down your face. Mitch feels his heart break in two as he watches you fall apart on his phone screen. “I’m coming home.”

“I know you’ll be home tomorrow night, I’ll be okay. I’m sorry I’m such a mess.” You aren’t sure how you manage to string coherent sentences together, but you do. You feel silly telling Mitch you don’t like being alone, it’s not his fault he has to travel so much for work.

“No I’m coming home now. I’ll be there in 4 hours okay? Just hang in there for me alright?” You look at the screen and realize Mitch is frantically throwing things into his suitcase. After he manages to stuff everything into the suitcase he zips it up and looks back at his screen. You still haven’t responded, so he speaks again. “4 hours, and I’ll be there. I promise.”

And he kept his promise. 3 hours and 56 minutes later he crawls into your bed and holds you until you fell asleep.

I still feel it every time, it's just something that you do. Now ask me why I want to.

“Wow he’s really smitten with you isn’t he?” Audrey, Justin Holl’s wife gushes. You had just filled her and the other WAGs in on why Mitch had flown home for you just over a month ago.

“He’s a really great friend.” You smile shyly, eyes searching for the topic of conversation himself. When you find him, he’s smiling at you, him and Justin leaning against a wall both sipping beers. You send him a small wave, and he winks back at you.

“Oh come on! A ‘really good friend’ doesn’t pack up a work trip on a moments notice and fly home to you like that. This boy is totally gone for you! Honestly I assumed you two would have gotten together by now.” Audrey gestures between the two of you dramatically, and your cheeks heat up.

“He doesn’t like me like that.” You insist. If they could feel how fast your heart is racing though, they’d know just how badly you wanted what they were saying to be true.

———

“What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?” Mitch asks as he closes the apartment door behind him. You have just gotten back from Justin and Audrey’s and you’ve hardly spoken a word to him.

“Just thinking.” You mutter, hanging up your jacket and throwing your keys on the desk.

“Care to share with the class?” He chirps, smiling widely as he hangs his coat on the hook next to yours. The moment is so incredibly domestic, and your stomach is doing somersaults at the thought of it.

“Just something Audrey said.” You pause for a moment unsure if you really want to tell Mitch what’s really going through your head. “Can I ask you something?” You flop down onto the couch, watching him over the back of the couch as he grabs you both a beer from the fridge.

“Shoot!” He grins, handing you a beer and taking a seat right next to you. He pops open his beer, and leans back against the couch throwing an arm around your shoulders. He looks at you expectantly as he takes a sip of his drink.

“Why are you so nice to me?” His brows knit together in confusion, so you choose to elaborate. “Like I get that we are friends, best friends even, but you go out of your way to always be there for me. Stepping out on work to fly home to me because I’m sad, isn’t really something a best friend does. So why are you so nice? I don’t need you to take pity on me if that’s what this is. I don’t want to be a charity case.”

Mitch sits forward on the couch now. His arm no longer around you, instead both elbows are planted on his knees. He’s picking at the label on his beer like it’s the most interesting thing in the world. This isn’t a side of him you see often. Mitch Marner is nervous.

“It’s not like that at all! You aren’t a charity case!” He still hasn’t looked at you, and the distance he’s putting between you has you panicking.

“So tell me what it’s like. Come on Mitch, what’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?” You tease, bumping his shoulder playfully with your own. Your attempt to lighten the mood even just a little works momentarily, as a small smile breaks out on Mitch’s face.

“You really want to know why I do all of that stuff for you?” His eyes search yours now, hoping he finds the answer he’s looking for. He’s hoping that you are ready to hear what he has to say, and when you place your hand on his arm with a smile he knows it’s going to be okay. “It’s because I love you.”

It's everything about you, everything that you do. From the way that we touch, baby, to the way that you kiss on me. It's everything about you, the way you make it feel, new. Like every party is just us two, and there's nothin' I could point to. It's everything about you.

“Mitch-“ your voice is a warning. Or maybe it’s a plea. Even you aren’t sure, because your heart is in your throat right now.

“I’m serious. I love you. I think I always have, I mean what isn’t there to love? You always make me feel important, like no one else matters and I’ve been trying so hard to make you feel the same way. To make you feel like you’re worth it, because you are so worth it. I love everything about you. I love how funny, sweet, strong, and caring you are. I love how you are just so you. There is not one single thing that made me love you, it was everything. I’m sorry if this is weird for you, but I’m just being honest.” His whole body seems to relax a bit after he finishes speaking. It is almost as if you can see the weight lifting from his shoulders. A weight you hadn’t realized he carried with him, and you want so badly to apologize to him. Tell him you’re sorry for not realizing sooner, and that you wish he hadn’t carried that weight for you. You want to tell him you’re not perfect, and that he has you all wrong. Mostly though, you just want to tell him you love him too.

The only way you know how to tell Mitch exactly how you feel about him isn’t by telling him all of those things with simple words, you have to show him. So, taking a deep breath, you lift your hand from Mitch’s arm, and place gently on the back of his neck. You gently dance your fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck, and you feel a shiver pass through him. He slowly lifts his eyes to yours again, and without another second of hesitation you’re pulling him into you.

When his lips reach yours, you kiss him with all you have. You pour yourself into him in hopes of showing him how grateful you are for him, and how much you love him. He smiles against your lips, as he pulls you into his lap. He hugs your body to his own, and you grip his hair like you’re scared to let go.

After kissing for what feels like forever, but also not nearly long enough, you pull away to catch your breath. Your foreheads are pressed together, both of you breathing heavily, and both sporting mile wide grin.

“Wow.” Mitch breathes out, causing you to giggle. “Add that to the list.”

“List?” You ask curiously, sitting back in his lap to get a better look at him. His hair is messy, lips swollen and red, and his eyes have never looked more blue.

“The list of things I love about you. The way you kiss me, I can add that to the list of everything.” The happiness you feel in this moment has you feeling warm. Sure, maybe the way you found Mitch wasn’t conventional, but there was a reason you called him all those months ago. However it happened, you’ve never been more happy to call someone yours.

[mummybear]

Daddy’s Dirty Little Secret

Words: 4,002

Warnings: Daddy Kink, Swearing, Cheating, Smut, Oral Sex (Female Receiving), Lots Of Dirty Talk, Secret Sex, Slight Choking, Possessive Jensen, Size Kink. (Think that’s it!)

Pairing: Jensen Ackles x Nanny(Babysitter)Reader

Summary: One night it’s extremely and unseasonably cold and you’re trying to fight it off, when you get a surprise visitor.

A/N: So I know it’s been a while since my last post guys, sorry! Hope this one is worth the wait though! It went from a drabble to a one shot, and almost to a mini series but I stopped myself haha :P Enjoy! 

Today had also been an unusually difficult day, with two of the three kids being ill, even then though they were still completely adorable. You love your job, being a live in nanny is like nothing else, there was just something so rewarding about it. It of course helps that the children that you look after are so good, at least most of the time. Spending all day with them and most of the evening for well over three years now, you had grown extremely close to them, in fact you’d grown close to the entire family. 

Even if you did have some kind of an intense crush on their father, you’d managed to keep it hidden surprisingly well considering. That man was just goddamn ridiculous in your own defence, he was damn near perfect, and you wanted more than anything to find something wrong with him that you could focus on, but nope, not a thing, not one thing in three freaking years.

You pull your duvet up higher around your shoulders, yet again distracted by the cold. It was unseasonably cold for this time of year, and it didn’t seem to matter how hard you tried, you were still freezing cold. Your oversized t-shirt barely reaches your mid thighs, and you really wish that the rest of your pyjamas weren’t still in the wash. You want to get out of bed and wrap your fluffy robe around yourself beneath the duvet, but you can’t bring yourself to get out of bed to get it. 

You’re so tired that you eventually feel yourself starting to drift off, but before you manage it completely you hear your door clicking closed and being locked as someone stumbles inside. You rationalise that it must be one of the kids out of bed, you feel the covers lift and you shiver at the cold breeze which sneaks beneath the duvet with the body. But before you can turn and tell the little one you’ll take them back to bed, you stiffen in surprise. Feeling a strong pair of warm arms wrap around your waist before you're pulled back into a solid warm chest. 

There’s only one person it could possibly be, but that doesn't make any sense, he’d never done anything like this before, maybe he’d gotten into the wrong bed by accident? He had been out drinking. 

You have to sink your teeth into your bottom lip when his warm calloused hands slip beneath your long t-shirt, one hand moves under your body, pulling you back impossibly closer, before the same hand curls around your hip. His free hand continues up your body, moving slowly over the dip in your waist and over your ribs. 

You’re breathing hard, your heart thudding in your chest. You know you need to say something, but he feels so damn good, and the arousal is already pooling in your panties.

“Mmm, fuck you feel so good, baby girl. So soft,” he groans under his breath as he nuzzles against your neck, breath warm against your skin. You can smell the alcohol now, which confirms your suspicions. 

“J-Jensen? I...uh, oh, fuck…” you whimper, feeling his big warm hand cup and squeeze your breast.

“I think you might be in the wrong bed.” 

Jensen chuckles against your skin as he drags his teeth over your earlobe.

“But you’re so cold, don’t you want daddy to warm you up?” he purrs, pressing kisses against your neck and along your shoulders.

Your head is spinning, and you would swear you were dreaming if his skin wasn’t so warm against yours. God you know it’s wrong, and it’s fucked up, but you don’t want him to go.

“B-But, Jensen, you’re drunk… what about if you wake up in the morning and regret being in here with me?” 

“Aww, isn’t that sweet. You worried about takin’ advantage of me, princess?” he asks, and you can hear the humour lacing his tone as he moves his hand slightly, and gently pinches your nipple between his thumb and forefinger. You arch into his touch and press your ass back into the impressive bulge in his pants. 

Jensen’s fingers flex around your hip and tighten slightly, drawing you back against him tighter. 

“I think that all depends on just how drunk you are,” you breathe out shakily, as his stubble grazes your neck and he chuckles quietly.

“Don’t you worry, baby girl. I know exactly what I’m doing, I was just too chicken shit to do it before. The drink was already arranged, so I had to go, but I couldn’t stop thinking about last night, those pretty little noises I heard you makin’,” he groans deeply, dragging his teeth over the patch of skin just below your ear, and it makes your belly flip in anticipation, but at the same time you’re worried about just how much he’d heard.

You swallow thickly, before pulling out of his hold and turning over to face him with wide eyes. 

“Exactly how much did you hear?” you ask nervously, but coming face to him is harder than you’d first realised. God he looks so good, and you find yourself getting distracted, even by the little that you can see that isn’t hidden.

His hair is a complete sexy mess on top of his head, his eyes are a much darker green than you’ve ever seen them, and his lips look just a little more swollen and plump, just begging you to bite them. He’s shirtless, that much you could tell as soon as he’d climbed into your bed, but his boxers are still on. You are extremely aware of the fact that you're staring, and becoming more distracted by the second, when Jensen’s deep chuckle pulls you out of your thoughts.

Jensen bites his lip, clearly trying and failing to bite back a smirk. 

“Like what you see I take it?” he chuckles, looking like a deadly combination between sexy and cocky, and then you feel his hand smoothing up your leg slowly, his thumb pressing in harder against your inner thigh as he moves, and your breath hitches in your throat.

“S-Shut up… A-And answer the question,” you stutter, regretting what you had said instantly and sounding way more nervous that you’d planned to. His eyes narrow, as he looks at you and you swallow thickly, rolling onto your back to try and create a little distance between the two of you, but he only gets closer and you notice the tick in his jaw.

“You wanna repeat that?” he all but growls, and you quickly shake your head. 

“N-No, Daddy. I’m sorry,” you whisper as innocently as you can manage. Trying to go along with what he had said earlier, and going by the deep groan that it pulls from his lips, you’d judged the situation correctly.

“Mmm, such a good girl, you do learn fast, I’m impressed. But since you wanna know so bad, I heard everything, sweetheart. Every perfect little moan, and every single time you begged for my cock. I especially loved hearing you say that you wanted to be my perfect little slut. That still true, baby girl? You still want that?” he asks rasps, tracing your bottom lip with his thumb, just as his hand stops between your legs and his fingers brush over the damp patch in your panties.

“F-Fuck… Jensen. We shouldn’t be doing this,” you whimper loudly, feeling his fingers press against your clothed pussy with a little more pressure. 

“You let me worry about that, baby girl. Answer the question, say it, come on,” he demands softly, moving his fingers up and down your clothed slit slowly, pausing as he eyes lock with yours, and he starts circling your throbbing clit.

You take a deep breath before nodding, but he cocks his eyebrow questioningly at you, as if he needs to hear you say it. So decide to risk your voice barely coming out.

“Fuck… Yes, I still want it. I uh, I still wanna be your dirty little slut,” you whisper hotly against his lips, swallowing thickly when Jensen smirks at you in that way that only he can, and you swear all the air has been stolen from your lungs.

You shuffle up the bed, and he follows as you rest your back against the pillows. His plump parted lips are only a breath away, and you can’t take it anymore. You close the distance between the two of you, wrapping your arms around his neck and your lips crash against his, in a needy and heated kiss. Jensen growls against your lips and wraps a fist in the back of your hair in an attempt to pull you closer as he eagerly responds, your scalp stings slightly at the tug, but you welcome the pain. 

It feels like he’s everywhere, his big strong hands all over you. You only break apart so he can roughly tug your t-shirt over your head, then his hands and lips are back on you. The cold in the room is no longer a concern, you’re too hot to even notice it now, you push your fingers into the back of his hair and gently pull his head back.

He nibbles your bottom lip between his teeth, and groans deeply in his chest when he finally lets you pull back so you can both breathe. 

“I’ve wanted to do this for ages, the amount of times I’ve jacked it in the shower thinkin’ about you in those tight little shorts and jeans, baby girl. And don’t even get me started on that perfect little mouth of yours, thinking about how fast I could have you down on your knees is fucking torture.” You whimper at his words, and your fingers tighten on him as he keeps talking. 

“Wanna feel every fucking part of you… take you wherever you stand, and make you scream. And fuck... it’s so hot hearing you say it again. Except now, I can feel how wet your tight little cunt is, not just hear it through the wall.”

You’re in no doubt that you’re blushing hard,it’s an effect he’d had on you from the day he’d hired you. And hearing those words on his perfect lips paired with the tone of his voice, is enough to have your stomach doing backflips. Not to mention he had just kissed every ounce of resolve about this being a bad idea from your mind, now all you can think about is him, consequences be damned.

“I… shit… could you really hear it?” you ask a little nervously, as he tugs your panties down your legs and tosses them over his shoulder. You watch him closely as he crawls between your legs and lays on his stomach, and you swear a new wave of arousal hits you as he looks up at you with those darkened green eyes.

He’s wearing that shit eating grin again when his eyes lock with yours, and he hums quietly, nibbling on his bottom lip thoughtfully. 

“Every single sexy sound, you got yourself so fuckin’ wet thinking about it didn’t you?” he purrs, pushing your legs up the bed, so that they bend at the knees, and then you let them fall open before his eyes. Enjoying the way his gaze immediately drops to your slick heat, but you’re unable to speak, seeing the look that crosses his face. 

“Almost came in here, just to shut you up… didn’t want you waking up the entire house, and believe me, you were close. But I guess Daddy needs to pay the nanny a little attention too, huh?” 

Jensen ducks his head, but his eyes remain on yours as his lips press against your inner thigh, and his stubble prickles deliciously at your skin, when he slowly kisses and bites his way up to where you need him the most.

“Always get wet when I think about you, Jensen. I wish you had come in. I'm sure there are plenty of ways you could've shut me up, or made me louder,” you reveal quietly, feeling your heart jump in your chest when he sucks at your skin and drags his teeth over the mark you're sure he’s left behind.

"Oh baby girl, you have no idea just how many ways I’ve thought about doing it," he all but growls, his lips a mere breath away from your slick pussy. When the tip of his nose nudges against your clit and you can't hold back the whimper of pleasure.

He’s hardly touched you, and you could swear your body is about to catch fire. You have to stop the urge you have to clamp your thighs around his head, when he suddenly flattens his tongue and licks you from your entrance to your throbbing clit with a deep rumbling moan. Your hands fist in the sheets beside your hips when he starts fucking you with his tongue, his big calloused hands move to grip under the backs of your knees and he presses them back against your chest.

“Sonofa…” you gasp, feeling the heat pooling in your stomach, the words get stuck on the tip of your tongue, and the look in his eyes is about to be the death of you.

“Hold your legs back baby,” he instructs you huskily, pulling away just long enough to speak, before he’s back between your thighs, and his tongue is back inside you, sending you closer to the edge as he hits every spot perfectly.

You do as you’re told, wrapping your arms around your legs and holding them back, just as you toss your head back into the pillows and bite your lip. Desperately trying not to cry out like you need to. But then his fingers start to circle your clit, applying just the right amount of pleasure, moving in time with his tongue and you’re so fucking close to the edge that you feel delirious.

“Daddy, please. I’m so close,” you whine needily, you feel Jensen smirk against you and he withdraws his tongue, only to replace it with two thick fingers.

He eases the thick digits in teasingly, watching your body arch into his touch. 

“So fuckin’ sexy baby girl, so tight around my fingers. Can’t wait to feel this tight little cunt wrapped around my cock.”

You drop your legs and grip at the top of his hair harshly as he ducks his head again, and his lips wrap around your clit, everything is steadily becoming too much, and you have to slap your free hand over your mouth to stop your screams.

Jensen growls against your clit when your fingers tighten in his perfect mess of hair, sending vibrations shooting through every nerve and your hips arch closer, until they’re pressed down into the mattress by his strong arm. His fingers are moving fast and hard, scissoring and then curling at just the right times, you can feel his biceps bulging against your leg and stomach with the effort he’s putting in. 

“Gonna… oh God! Please!” you cry out behind your hand, as his tongue starts flicking at your clit in time with his fingers moving inside you. 

Your entire body goes stiff, attempting to arch as your orgasm smashes into you hard. You’re vaguely aware of his tongue lapping at everything you give, with a humming approval, as your body shakes violently beneath him, you’re not sure you’ve ever come that hard in your entire life. 

Before you know it he’s pulling away, and your eyes flutter open just in time to find Jensen flinging his boxers over his shoulder, with a cocky as hell smirk on those plump lips. Your eyes instinctively drop lower, and you feel your breath catch in your throat. Your words accidentally tumble from your lips without there being any way to stop them.

“Is that gonna fit,” you swallow thickly, practically choking on the words, quickly catching yourself before you say any more you clamp your mouth closed, but you don’t miss Jensen’s smirk curling at the corners of his lips.

He moves over you, so that his body is covering yours, leaning on an elbow so his free hand can reach for your face. You feel like you can hardly breathe. The look he’s giving you is so intense, he lets his fingers slowly trail along your jaw, and then his thumb rests against your chin and your lips instinctively part.

“Oh, it’ll fit baby girl. Don’t you worry about that, we’re gonna make it,” he purrs, kissing the corner of your lips.

Before you can kiss him like you really want to, he backs off again, onto his knees between your parted thighs. He shuffles forward and drags your ass up onto his thighs, and takes his cock in his hand, his eyes roaming freely over your body as he starts to work his hand over himself. He taps his cock against your clit several times, and you bite your lip as you squirm beneath him, desperate for more, but you freeze when you feel the thick head of his cock pressing against your dripping entrance.

“Make it fit, Daddy,” you whimper, cupping your tits in your hands, and rolling your hardened nipples between your thumbs and forefingers.

“Oh, you just watch me, sweetheart.” He grabs your legs and pulls them against his solid chest, and his hands drop to your hips and you feel his fingers digging into your skin bruisingly.  

His jaw is clenched tightly as he eases the tip of his cock inside you. It’s extremely clear he isn’t used to going slowly, and if you’re honest you don’t want him to.

“Do it, fill me up. Just fuck me, I can take it Daddy, please. I don’t wanna wait any more.”

Jensen’s eyes lock with yours and he bites into his bottom lip, and the thick veins in his neck become more visible.

“No baby, you’re gonna take what I give you. So fuckin’ wet for me, I bet I could just slide right inside you if I wanted to, stuff you full in one thrust,” he grits out, like that’s exactly what he wants to do, but he’s clearly intent on torturing the both of you. You can feel your blood rushing in your ears as you look down your body at him and pout at him. 

You’re trying to push down onto him further, but Jensen’s grip on your hips is unyielding and bruising. 

“Jensen, please,” you beg pathetically, watching the way his eyes flick up from your pussy and lock on yours.

“No, Y/N. I want you to feel every fucking inch of my thick cock stretching out this tight little cunt,” his voice is practically a growl at this point, and you don’t remember ever being this turned on in your life. 

Your hands drop from your breasts to fist at the bedsheets beside your bodies, as Jensen starts to gently rock his hips, you notice the way his eyes are locked on his cock as he fucks into you teasingly slow. 

“Fuck, Jensen. Feels so good, your voice…” you gasp loudly, cutting yourself off as his hips snap against yours and he fills you completely.

“So fuckin’ tight and wet Y/N… shit. You like my dirty mouth, baby girl? You like hearing about how I’m gonna destroy this pussy, use your body for all it’s worth?” 

“Oh God, yes! Always did love your voice,” you pant out harshly between whimpers, feeling your heart hammering in your chest.

Jensen starts to thrust his hips, pulling out almost all of the way, before effortlessly sliding back inside you with a rumbling groan, picking up a steady rhythm that has you gasping for breath all over again. You can tell he’s holding back, but you can’t stop looking at him, or the sweat clings to his tanned skin. Noticing the way his arms bulge with his tight grip on your hips, his plump bottom lip caught between his teeth, and the look of complete pleasure which has overtaken his gorgeous features.

He looks back up to meet your eyes, “Yeah? You like being Daddy’s dirty little secret too?” he groans, his pace increasing, until you can hear the slapping of your skin against his echoing around the room. 

You can’t help the loud moan that leaves your lips, because fuck, you really do. Every precise thrust has him repeatedly hitting your G-spot. 

“Yes, oh God yes, I love being your dirty secret,” you cry out, louder than you mean to, feeling your orgasm beginning to burn hard in your stomach. Jensen shifts suddenly, until his body is over yours, keeping your legs pressed against his chest. 

Before you can let out a pleasured scream at the new angle, Jensen’s big hand covers your mouth. You can hardly think let alone breathe, he’s so deep inside you that every hard thrust has you sure you’ll feel his cock for a week.

Jensen’s head drops into the crook of your neck and shoulder, his breath hot against your skin, he turns slightly, until his plump lips are angled towards your ear.

“Good. Because I ain’t letting this pussy go now, princess. You’re. All. Fucking. Mine,” he grunts out, punctuating each word with a particularly hard and deep thrust. You nod several times, loving how possessive he’s being. He pulls back suddenly and his hand drops from your mouth to wrap around your throat.

“Say it,” he demands, eyes dark and dangerous.

Your pussy clenches hard around his cock and you moan his name, “all yours, Daddy. Only yours,” you manage to rasp out, squeezing your eyes closed as your climax threatens to explode.

“Good girl. Now, fucking look at me when you come all over my cock.” 

Your eyes snap open at his command, only to see the intense gaze in his eyes as he looks down at you. His cock is filling you perfectly, and he’s so deep, stretching you more than you’d ever been before, and you don’t ever want it to end, but you’re so close.

White hot pleasure clouds your vision when Jensen tilts his hips a little more, and those final thrusts throw you over the edge and into the oblivion of your orgasm. You faintly feel his grip tighten on your throat as you silently scream his name, only vaguely aware of him growling your name against your skin as he thrusts deep inside you and his body stills.

When you finally start to come down, you can feel your climax mixed with his leaking out around his cock. He’s still panting hard, and when you open your eyes he’s gently lowering your legs before he pulls out, with a soft moan of his own, and flops down on the mattress beside you.

“Jesus Christ,” you half laugh, turning on your side to face him.

“Fuck, princess, you can say that again,” Jensen sighs contentedly, throwing a strong arm over your waist and pulling you against him as he rolls onto his back.

You smile against his skin, pressing soft kisses above his wildly beating heart, enjoying how his fingers start combing through your hair, which was something that you definitely hadn’t expected from him. You bite your lip as you look up at him and you can’t help feel a little nervous, “you should probably get going, Jay, I don’t want you getting caught in here,” you all but whisper, as you start to remember he’s actually your married boss.

“Oh, so it’s Jay now, huh? No more Daddy, please?” Jensen smirks, brushing the tips of his fingers over the dip in your hip.

“Jensen, don’t tease me like that,” you tell him, barely above a whisper trying to hide the waver in your voice.

“I told you. I’m not letting you go now, sweetheart. Sleep for now, we’ll talk in the mornin’. Besides, like I said you’re all mine.” 

Bolded wouldn’t tag guys sorry!

All Tags:  @chewie-redbird @julzdec @lettersofwrittencollective @stiles-o-dylan24 @mogaruke @all-alone-he-turns-to-stone @dylanholyhellobrien @desireepow-1986 @lilulo-12 @22sarah08 @negans-lucille-tblr​ @cockslut-padalecki​ @deanwanddamons​ @simsadventures​  @charmed-asylum​ @nicole-lynne​ @hazel-eye-coffee-shop-girl-blog​ @defenderrosetyler​ @emilyshurley​ @foxyjwls007​ @mylovelydame21​ @sunshineandwings86 @akshi8278​ @peaches007​ @stylesismyhubs​ @peachyyybabyy​ @fantasy-myth1​ @death-unbecomes-you​ @coffeebooksandfandom​ @magssteenkamp​

Jensen/Dean Tags: @fandom-princess-forevermore​ @hobby27​ @littlelonewolfgirl @ladywinchester1967​ @screechingartisancashbailiff​ @maddiepants​ @spnfanfic-reblogs​ @holylulusworld​ @mrswhozeewhatsis​ @sonofabringmesomepie​ @deans-baby-momma​ @mrsjenniferwinchester​ @hhiggs​ @pisces-cutie​ @trina44sb @heartsaved​ @matsumama​ @adoptdontshoppets​ @beth-winchester21​ @doctor-hp-mcu​ @mrspeacem1nusone​ @fanddoms4love​ @deanmonandnegansbitch​ @nihilismworld​ @bxbyizzy @noobwuvsj2 @lyarr24​ @hearteyes-j2​

Pond Tags: @aprofoundbondwithdean​ @manawhaat​  @nichelle-my-belle​ @notnaturalanahi​ @deanscarlett​ @roxy-davenport​ @impala-dreamer​ @samsgoddess​ @frenchybell​ @scorpiongirl1​ @deandoesthingstome​ @deansleather​ @curliesallovertheplace​ @whywhydoyouwantmetosaymyname​ @waywardjoy​ @imadeangirl-butimsamcurious​ @kayteonline​ @supernatural-jackles​ @wevegotworktodo​ @quiddy-writes​ @babypieandwhiskey​ @supermoonpanda​ @deanwinchesterforpromqueen​ @chaos-and-the-calm67-blog​ @memariana91​ @teamfreewill-imagine​ @chelsea-winchester​ @becs-bunker​ @castieltrash1​ @supernaturalyobessed​ @ruined-by-destiel​ @winchester-writes​ @maraisabellegrey-blog​ @faith-in-dean​ @winchestersmolder​ @bennyyh​ @clueless-gold​ @deanwinchesterxreader​ @winchester-family-business​ @there-must-be-a-lock​ @just-another-winchester​ @cas-backwards-tie​ @winecatsandpizza​ @firefly-in-darkness​