#it did take me a hot sec to figure out what gif to use

[jellyfishbug]

ROOM 109

pairing. matt x reader genre. smut with plot. MDNI.

! NOT proof read.

word count: [ 4.8k ]

content; brothersbestfriend!matt, natessister!reader, two people one bed trope, smut, oral (f receiving), p in v, unprotected (wrap it!), creampie, lots of praise, some degradation, use of pet names for context, you & nate + the trips and their parents are on a trip to palm springs. after i finished writing it i realized i didnt make that 100% clear . . .

It was stupid. It was so stupid how this whole thing started.

Everyone else wanted to go to dinner directly after the beach, but you practically had to beg to quickly run up to your room and change. The white lacey sundress you'd been wearing wasn't exactly dinner attire, as well as the fact that it was covered in sand.

You scanned your room card on the doorknob and rushed inside, dropping your bag carelessly on the bed and turning to fiddle with the back of your dress. Several attempts of tugging at it later, you cry out in frustration at your zipper's refusal to budge, the metal completely stuck in place as your dug your nails into the fabric of the dress.

down the hallway, Nate was impatiently tapping his foot against the floor in exasperation, glancing over at the clock that hung above the vending machine. "Jesus christ, the fuck is she doing?"

Nick and Chris both shrugged, simply unbothered by the amount of time it was taking you. Matt, who was leaning against the wall his hands in his pockets, pursed his lips and glanced at Nate, his head still against the wall as he did. "D'you want me to go check on her?"

Nate nodded, "Yeah, n' tell her to hurry up, I'm fucking starving."

Matt rolls his eyes. "Okay, fine." He begins to head down the hallway, arms swaying at his sides before he pauses to look at Nate over his shoulder, "What room is she in?"

Nate thinks for a moment before hesitantly replying. "109.. i think,"

After ten minutes of you desperately attempting to get the dress off, you heard footsteps in the hallway, glancing down to the door to see the shadow of a tall figure. On the other side, Matt pressed two knuckles to the door and knocked gently, leaning his side against it as he spoke, "You alright in there?"

You swallowed, your face felt hot from embarrassment. You close your eyes and knock your head back, trying to shift the tone of your voice from how upset you were. "Uhm- yeah, just.. my zipper's stuck."

"Your zipper, huh?" He laughs lightly, the image of you struggling to get the dress off clear in his mind. "You can't get it unstuck?"

"No," you mumble. "It's on the back of the dress, so I can't see it."

He's quiet for a moment before responding. You watch his figure shuffle around under the door, "D'you need help?"

Your shoulders drop in defeat, balled fists resting at your sides as you huff, "please."

Matt exhales deeply, placing his hand on the doorknob. "You decent? like- can i come in?" he asks, his voice raspier than it usually was.

"Yeah,"

He turns the knob and opens the door slowly, closing it behind him as he approaches you, taking in the view with a small smile tugging at his lips. You turn away from him, lifting your hair off your neck to make it easier for him to unzip the dress.

He swallows and leans forward, directly behind you as his hands reach up to where your zipper is stuck. Goosebumps form at the feel of his hand grazing the exposed skin of your neck. "D'you see? It won't budge,"

"Yeah, I see," he says quietly, hands still frozen in place as he furrows his eyebrows. His hand wraps around the small zipper whilst the other lands on your hip, "I'm gonna try something, just- stay still for a sec, okay?"

You nod slowly, quietly gasping as he pulls you slightly closer to him, feeling his breath fanning against your neck. His fingers curl around the zipper once more, tugging at it.

He slowly draws the zipper down, the cold feel of the metal gliding over your skin, exposing your back inch by inch. His touch is delicate, almost feather-light against you.

Your breath hitches in your throat, and you let your hands drop to your sides. You want to say something, but nothing will come out. Matt's breath is also labored, his eyes studying the newly exposed skin of your back. "Looks like I got it," he mumbles.

"Mhm." You mutter, basking in the feel of his hands on your lower back as the zipper reaches the end of the spined teeth, and Matt lets go of it. One of is hands still on your hip as he presses circles into your back with his ringed fingers.

"Matt.." you whisper, but nothing else comes out. Your sentence is left unfinished as you step backward slightly so that you're closer to him.

Matt swallows, trying to remain calm and collected as your back is pressed against his chest. He responds, his voice matching your volume, "Yeah?"

"I have to-" you screw your eyes shut, shivering when you feel him trail fingers up your spine mindlessly. "Someones gonna come looking for us, we've been up here for a while- and I have to change."

Disappointment washes over him as his hand falls away from your back. You're right- he knows you're right, but he doesn't want to move. "Okay- yeah, I'll let you change," he says quietly, backing away as your frames detatch. "Do you want me to wait for you by the door?"

You shake your head silently before parting your lips to speak. "It's okay, I'll be down in a minute." you reply, waiting patiently to let the dress drop off your shoulders as Matt acknowledges your response with a nod of his head as he opens the door, letting it click shut behind him. You watch his shadow disappear from under the door, footsteps slowly getting quieter as he disappears down the hallway.

You slipped into a smaller, black spaghetti-strap dress, hurriedly grabbing your belongings before swinging the door open and letting it close loudly behind you.

You run down the hallway, quickly tip-toeing down the carpeted stairs as you lift your head, and your eyes meet the familiar group of boys standing by the vending machines, all looking defeated and bored. Nick glances over upon seeing you, grinning widely as he throws his hands up in enthusiasm.

"Finally! Christ, i thought we'd starve to death. Lets fucking go,"

Dinner was torture.

Matt sat directly across from you at the table. You shared glances every now and then, feeling your stomach lurch at the sight of his hair messily hanging in his face, his pearly teeth peaking through his lips as he cracked a smile in response to Nate's joke. The candles on the table flickered, illuminating his features even more as he mindlessly chewed on his bottom lip.

He crossed his arms in front of his chest lazily, raising his eyebrows at you every time your eyes met. The eye roll he got back from you made him laugh lowly, his tongue prodding at the side of his cheek as his lips broke into a grin.

At some point, Nate and Chris were laughing and muttering amongst themselves like children, both pouting dramatically as they turn to look at Matt. Matt furrows his eyebrows nervously, tilting his head as he reluctantly asks, "What?"

Nate dropped his utensils dramatically against his plate, the clanking causing both you and Matt to grimace in distaste. "You know you're like, my favorite person ever, right?" Nate said all to sweetly, a glint in his eyes you'd only ever seen him use when asking for something he really wants.

Matt all but scowled, his eyebrows raised with an unimpressed look. "What d'you want?"

"Will you swap rooms with me so Chris and I can share? I'm sick of sharing a room with this loser," Nate pointed his thumb in your direction in emphasis, his other hand still resting in his lap. You scoffed, slapping his hand away and crossing your arms at your front with a sour expression. "You're not exactly my ideal choice either, fuck face."

Nate pushed his lip out into an even deeper pout at Matt, ignoring the slap and insult from you to further beg, "Pleaaaase?"

Matt turned his head to look to you.

"'S that okay with you?"

His tone was genuine, waiting patiently for you to tell him your input after Nate's careless disregard of it. You feel the blood rush to your face, realizing now that everyone's eyes were on you, but Matt's gaze in particular made your mouth go dry. You nodded slowly. "Yeah- that's fine."

He nodded before looking away and shrugging at Nate with his lips in a downturned smile. "I'm fine with it if she's fine with it."

Nate smiles widely, he and Chris sharing an excited glance and giggling amongst themselves. Matt picks up his drink from the table, looking at you through his eyebrows and he sips.

The tension was thick enough to be cut, and it was driving you crazy.

Every glance, every wink, every fucking smile.

He seemed completely unbothered at your clearly flustered demeanor, just laughing breathily every time he caught a glance. The thoughts in his mind betrayed him; if everyone at that table could hear them, Nate would've killed him by now.

Finally, after what felt like ever, the five of you started to head back to the hotel. You opted to linger behind the four boys, just by a couple feet - still close enough you could hear their conversation, but far enough that you didn't have to partake in whatever stupid thing they were bickering about.

Occasionally, Matt would glance back to look at you, as if he was checking to see if you were still there. You pretend not to notice, but every time you catch his eyes, you feel yourself try to look away, but you can't. You're completely locked on him and he's holding the key - he's taunting you with it.

You eventually reach the doors of the hotel, rolling your eyes playfully as Matt lingers behind the others to hold the door open for you.

You stop at the boys room first. Nate turns to Matt and places his hands on either side of his face, giving him a big kiss on the cheek and grinning stupidly whilst Matt's eyes widened in surprise. "I love youuuuu," he drags on, smooshing Matt's face with his hands. Matt bats them away.

"Yeah yeah, love you too, kid." He mutters, wiping the spit off his face with a scowl once Nate finally detatched. Nate throws up a peace sign at you before disappearing into the room. Matt bids his brothers goodnight, and the two of you begin to head towards the your room.

You reach the door and pause to fiddle in your bag before pulling out the room key, choosing to ignore how close behind you Matt is standing. He stands with his hands in his pockets, leaning against the door frame as he observes your movements. You scan the key against the door and push it open.

Matt reached above you to hold the door open, and you drop your bag on the entry-way table and kick off your shoes.

Matt closes the door behind the two of you and follows as you lean down in front of the vanity to take off your earings. Matt kicks off his shoes, and once your earings are safely on the desk, you flop down onto the bed without even changing out of your dress. You rolled over on to your back and pull out your phone.

Matt chuckles at the action, and then pauses to think, his eyes filled with wonder at the sight of the one bed. "I can take the floor,"

You almost roll your eyes, shaking your head vigorously as a laugh escapes you. "Don't be stupid, you can sleep in the bed, Matt."

He nods, his lips shifting upward into a smile as he walks up to the bed, laying down next to you. He also pulls out his phone from his back pocket and rolls onto his stomach, and you both sit in silence for a couple of minutes before you finally glance over.

He's really good looking.

It's stupid; its fucking stupid how good looking he is.

The dimness of the overhead light makes it harder to see, but the glow of his phone screen is bright enough that you can see his jawline. His hair is still slightly hanging in his face, and even when he runs a hand through it, it remains where it was before. The occasional laugh at something on his phone showcases his annoyingly hot grin, and the low sound of his laugh.

You didn't even realize you were staring. In fact, you were staring for a decent amount of time before he turned to face you, a smug smile on his face.

Fuck.

Embarassed, your head snaps back to your phone and heat rises to your face, making it flush a bright shade of pink. Matt doesn't say anything - but you know he's smirking at you.

"You good?" He asks, a teasing tone in his voice as his eyes continue to linger on you. The way he said it was so smug. He enjoyed having this affect on you.

You nod quickly, and he laughs. "You sure? You're all red,"

"No m' not." You bite back, your voice still quiet. "I'm fine."

He raises his eyebrows with an amused expression.

"Whatever you say, sweetheart."

The tone of his voice, as well as how easy the pet name rolled of his tongue was making a fire egnite in your core, and you cross one of your legs over the other.

Matt sets his phone down on the bed, completely abandoning the one thing that was keeping the safe silence. He crosses his arms in front of his chest, head leaning back against the headboard of the bed. "What's your deal?"

The question took you by surprise. What was your deal? Coming from the guy that was eye-fucking you in front of your brother and his at the dinner table an hour ago?

You scoff, an exasperated huff of air as you turn to glare at him. "What are you talking about?"

"You won't look me in the eye- like, at all - and when you do, your face gets all red and you wont talk. Whats your deal?"

His forwardness isn't appreaciated. You purse your lips, finally letting yourself continue to look at him, even if the eye contact is burning through you. "I'm looking at you now, aren't i?"

"Mhm," he says calmly. "And you're red again."

His acknowledgment of it only makes it worse. Your stomach flips and turns as the realization seeps through you, and you try your best to keep your expression hard and stern. "So what?"

He shrugs. "It's cute."

Cute.

You find yoursef rolling your eyes for the millionth time today, "You're annoying."

He moves closer, his movements making imprints on the bed sheets as he shamelessly lets your shoulders touch. "Why? Because i make you flustered?"

"I'm not-"

"You are."

You find yourself closing your lips despite the urge to utter out a snarky response, the heat of his breath fanning against your face as your chest rises and falls quickly. Everything else is completely lost - the fact that he's your brothers friend. The fact that if Nate knew about this, Matt would be on the floor taking his last breath.

Right now, all you were thinking about was how pretty he was, how pink his lips were, how much you really, really wanted to kiss him, even if you would regret it.

"You're staring again," he says, more quiet this time; almost a whisper, but his tone is still arrogant.

"Just- shut up, Matt." You say breathlessly.

His glance flicks between your lips and eyes, lust clearly displayed in his own eyes as he licks his bottom lip. "Can i..?"

You're nodding before he's even finished the sentence.

He leans forward and presses your lips together. It's soft; passionate. Your hand goes up to rest at his cheek, and his at yours. His touch is delicate, even as the movements of his mouth become deeper, his tongue sliding over your lips to colide with yours.

His other hand snakes around your waist, tugging you effortlessly into his lap to straddle his thighs, laughing against your lips when you yelp at the sudden change in position.

Both of his hands are wrapped tightly around you now, holding you close enough to press your frams together as your hands get lost in his hair. He's kissing you harder, more desperate and hungry, like he's been starved.

You'd be lying if you said you didn't feel him growing beneath you, and you'd also be lying if you said you weren't alarmed by his size. You find one of your hands slipping off of his face to tug at the buckle of his jeans, whining against him when he grabs your wrist to halt your movements.

He pulls away from you, chuckling softly. "D'you want something?"

Your wrist is still firm in his grip, and as much as you just want to whine and squirm until he lets go, you get the feeling he's not planning on doing so until you answer.

"You, please- Matt, i need you." You say breathlessly, feeling satisfied when he releases your wrist, his hands moving to roam up and down your sides.

"Good girl," He mutters before kissing you once more, keeping your lips locked as he puts a hand on your back to tug at the zipper on your dress quickly until the back is fully open. He lays you down gently until your back meets the matress, his kisses still rough as he lightly bites down on your bottom lip, grinning when you whimper into his mouth.

He pulls away to look down at you, kneeling against you so that your legs are on either side of him. He keeps one hand on your upper thigh, rubbing his thumb gently against your skin as he parts his lips to speak. "can I take your dress off?"

All it takes is a hushed "please," from you, and he springs into movement. "lift your arms f'me," he utters lowly, and as you comply, he pulls the dress down until its completely off, discarding it onto the floor. He looks back to gawk at you, "So pretty,"

You feel your face get red again, but before you can respond, he's leaning down to kiss you. He trails his kisses down your front, looking up at your blissed expression when his lips are on your lower stomach. His fingers dip underneath them of your underwear, tuggling effortlessly and discarding them on to the floor next to your dress. He fiddles with the buttons on his shirt with his other hand until its loose enough to pull off, and then on the bed forgotten.

He places his index finger against your lip, tapping lightly. "open for me, sweetheart."

You do just that, and he places two of his fingers in your mouth. You close your lips around them, swirling your tongue around the digits as Matt watches with dilated pupils. He pulls them away and lowers himself so that his face is hovering above your heat, eyes flicking up to watch your impatient expression with a smug grin

He presses his fingers into your entrace, and your jaw goes slack, head falling back against the mattress as you whine. "Fuck,"

He keeps his hand still, pressing open mouthed kisses to your inner thighs, then your core, before finally placing his mouth where you want it.

His slow and messy with his movements, tongue lapping at your clit as he curls his motionless fingers inside of you. You're moaning and whimpering his name, pleading for more, but he's taking his time.

He lifts his head, finally starting to pump his fingers at a good rythm, clearly enjoying how much you're reacting to him. "Feel good, baby?"

You're whimpering, nodding quickly, but your expression turns confused when he stops. "Tell me, sweet girl. I wanna hear how good it is,"

"So good," you breathe out. "Fuck, Matt- please, i wan' more."

Satisfaction is smugly clear on his face. "Thats a good girl," he wraps his free hand around your thigh, cold rings pressing against your skin, lowering his head back where it was before.

He's even meaner now. His fingers are vigorously thrusting into you, and his tuck is mercilessly hooked on your clit as your eyes roll back in your head and your thighs lightly shake on either side of him. You tug at his hair, letting out a wail as he groans against you, nails digging into his scalp.

"shit, do that again." He says quickly, his voice muffled as he continues. You do what he asks, feeling the same groaning sensation against you when you do, making your toes girl. His face is slick with you, and he lifts his head for just a second again, "tastes so good, fuck,"

The compliment makes the growing knot in your stomach twist, and you moan loudly as he speeds up his movements, nails tigging into the plush skin of your thigh.

You finally snap as his fingers curl against a particular spot, your thighs squeeze around his head and you attempt to arch your back, but his grip on your leg holds you in place against the mattress.

Desperate cry's of his name flood from your lips, and he lifts his mouth off of you, still pumping his fingers slowly through your orgasm whilst kissing your thighs. He whispers soft praise as he watches you writhing against his hand.

Finally, once you start to squirm, he pulls them out and licks them clean. Your hand covers your face as you attempt to bring your breathing back to normal, and his hand rests on your waist as he rubs circles soothingly into the flesh with his thumb. "Doing so good for me, sweetheart."

The praise fills your chest with a warm feeling, and he leans down to kiss the side of your head. His fingers wrap around his belt buckle until its unclipped and he tugs his jeans down to his ankles, leaving him in just his boxers.

You see the bulge clearly in them, and you gawk at the sight. He's huge. How the fuck will that fit?

He must've seen the nervous expression on your face, because he smiles and nods his head. "S'okay, I'll go slow."

He slides a hand underneath you to wrap around your waist and flip you onto your stomach. His fingers then wrap around your thighs to pull your ass up before pressing lightly against your lower back to make it arch.

Your arms are outstretched in front of you, the pads of your fingers laying against the sheets while Matt loiters on his knees behind you. An impatience is quickly growing in your gut. He's taking his sweet time admiring you from the new angle, one hand on your hip with a gentle grip as he palmed himself through his underwear.

You were not having it.

"Matt- please,"

He laughs lightly at the whiny plea that escaped you, the hand on your hip flying to assist his movement in removing his boxers. "Okay, okay. Hold on," He leans closer to you, his tip prodding at your entrance, and you brace yourself.

He slowly presses inside of you, watching as you grip the sheets below you at the painful stretch. You whimper, and he hums, rubbing his fingers soothingly on your hip, "I know, baby. I know." He says quietly right as his hips meet your ass, finally burying himself to the hilt.

The feeling of him filling you up completely is maddening. He inhales deeply through his teeth, muttering curses at how tightly you're squeezing around him.

He's still not moving. He's concerned at how much you're already reacting, but his demeanor changes when you're wiggling yourself against him as an attempt to get him to move, and he complies, starting to roll his hips slowly.

"Oh my god," you whisper, the stretch turning from painful to pleasant all too quickly. Your toes curl as Matt starts to go faster. "Fit s'well inside me- fuck, Matt."

He laughs lowly, "Yeah?" his tone his still so fucking arrogant despite how breathy he is, and he grunts lowly when he realizes you're pushing yourself back against him. "Such a filthy girl," he spit, "God, just like that. So good n' needy f'me."

His words only make you want more. He's pressing his palm against your back to push you down into the bed further and deepen the arch, which only makes it easier for him to fuck you deeper.

You're mewling now, nails desperately grasping at the sheets as he hits unfamiliar spots, making your eyes roll back into your head. It's all too much - it's all too good.

The lewd sound of skin meeting skin is filling the room, along with Matt's groans and your desperate whimpering. You feel the strong, confident attitude you carry around your peers start to crumble underneath him as he leans down, slamming at a ruthless pase.

You cry out a gutless moan when his hand wraps around your lower front to make his thrusts deeper, and he grunts at the way you tighten around him. "Yeah? that feel good, baby?" He asks as if the answer isn't evident, "Taking me so good- fuck, good girl."

Normally, praise wouldn't be affecting you this much; but the way it rolled so easily off his tongue, the way his tone was raspy and genuine, like he meant it, and the way that he was saying it with his chest whilst he was buried deep in your guts made you love it. It made you want to hear it even more.

You're a whimpering, moaning mess below your brother's best friend, keening as his grip on your hips turning animalistic, nails digging bluntly into your flesh. Tears prick at the corners of your eyes.

"Matt-" you panted, the pleasure in your stomach twisting and turning with every thrust against your sweet spot, "Matt- fuck, m' gonna cum."

"Yeah?" he breathes. "Go ahead, cum for me sweetheart."

As soon as the words left him, you unraveled, legs shaking violently against him as your messy attempts to meet his thrusts stop and you practically go limp.

Your mind is numb from pleasure, the white knuckle grip on the sheets becoming less strong while your eyes roll back in your head, overstimulated as Matt still pounds into you to chase his high.

"Close," he chokes out behind you, his thrusts becoming more messy as he wraps an arm around your waist to pull you up slightly, your back still arched. "Fuck, where do you want me?"

Even in your dumb state, you manage to utter out a response, "inside me, please."

He leans down to dig his teeth into the small of your neck and presses himself to the hilt, spilling thick spurts deep into your core as he mutters muffled curses against your neck. You melt from the warm feeling of him in your gut, your hand snaking up to wrap around the back of his neck to touch his hair.

You're both still panting as he presses kisses along your neck and over the faint bite mark he left, slowly laying you back down against the warmth of the mattress. He holds you in place and pulls out slowly, whispering apologies when you wince at the soreness and emptiness that follows.

He tucks your hair behind your ear with his finger, still pressing gentle kisses along your skin; cheek, neck, shoulder, hip - before he speaks. "You okay?"

You nod, "mhm, just... sore."

He nods sympathetically, still touching your face. "I know, sweetheart." He turns you so youre lying on your back. "We can go shower and get cleaned up, but you gotta get up first."

The thought of the warm water makes you sit up, and Matt grins at how quickly you do so. He takes your hand in his and guides you to the bathroom.

You watch from your spot on the counter as he leans into the glass door of the shower to turn the water on, feeling with his hand under the stream to test tje temperature, throwing you a satisfied nod when it became warm enough.

It wasn't until you were both under the warm, cozy flow of the faucet with suds coving both of your wet slick skin that you turned around to face him, a knowing look in your eyes. "Matt?"

He raised an eyebrow, "Hm?"

"If you tell Nate about any of this-"

He grimaces at the thought. "c'mon, kid. I'm not a dumbass." He laughs, and you're both left to forget about the future, and instead focus on the now.

The now being the fact that this wasn't going to be the last time this happened. Definitely not.

thank u for reading! i hope you enjoyed. throw me a reblog if you did, they are greatly appreciated :)

links ..

masterlists !

[teenidlegirl]

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀❛ 𝓜𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝓜𝐄 𝓗𝐀𝐋𝐅𝐖𝐀𝐘. ❜

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ❀ ˚◞ 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 : 𝐚 𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐬

ઇ ˚ ݂ ֹ ꒰ miguel o’hara 𝓍 fem!civilian!reader ꒱ ! ۟ ׅ ♡

ׄ   ׅ ྀ 𝓢𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘. a beaten up spider-man stands on your balcony. you ushered him inside and tend to his wounds. a rainy night of apologies and… intimacy.

ׄ   ׅ ྀ 𝓒𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓. angst, hurt/comfort, swearing, injuries, backstories, mentions of past character death, mentions of blood, feelings, heavy ass tension (unexplainable tension hehe)

❛⠀ previous chapter⠀⋅⠀masterlist⠀⋅⠀next chapter ⠀❜

the shocking plot twist, how marvelous and thrilling. murder mystery novels are simply the best. you were reading the last few sentences of the last chapter until the growling from daisy interrupts your reading mind. setting down the book on your lap, you look confusingly at the golden doodle. before asking her what’s wrong, you follow her line of vision which leads you to the balcony. your heart drops and eyes widen in shock to find a tall figure clad in red and dark blue staring at you, making you gasp. jumping off the couch, you rush to the balcony, glass door sliding in the process. a fresh breeze of rainy air greets you, gently blowing through your hair.

another gasp escapes your lips but in horror. in front of you stands a beaten up spider-man. bruises and scars covering his handsome face. strands of wet hair sticking onto his forehead.

your heart cracks at the sight.

what the hell happened? who did this to him?

miguel, on the other hand, is still mesmerized by you. you’re wearing that nightdress which makes him feel warm every time he sees you wearing it. the pain still lingers but he’s solely fixated on you.

without saying a word, you grab him by the wrist and usher him inside. still mesmerized by you, miguel follows you like a lost puppy. you sat him down on the couch, taking mental note of how big he looks compared to your couch, how small he makes it look.

“give me a sec, i’ll be right back.” audible panic in your tone as you rush to your bathroom for the first aid kit, leaving miguel alone on your couch.

he simply waits for you, remaining silent as his eyes follow your figure until you disappear into your room. miguel didn’t even notice daisy walking up to him and snuggling against his side, an attempt for comfort. his eyes lit up immediately as you walked back into the room with a first aid kit in your hands. he can see the concern on your pretty face.

sitting down beside him, you quickly open up the kit and took out all the supplies you need. anxiety starts kicking in, causing your hands to shake a little which didn’t go unnoticed by miguel. due to your anxiety, you start feeling hot so you swiftly take off your silk robe, leaving you in your nightdress. using a small wash cloth with applied water, you gingerly clean his facial wounds. neither of you speak as you tend to his wounds, silence filling the room other than the chaotic sounds of the storm outside. you try being very careful not to hurt miguel in the process, honestly he doesn’t care but he appreciates how caring you are. after cleaning them, you use antibacterial ointment and apply it on the delicate wounds. miguel’s eyes focused on you, completely in awe of your medical skills. he watches, adores, those furrowed brows and pouting lips of concern. how cute yet pretty you look worrying about him, the asshole who yelled at you and made you distance yourself from him. after making you feel like shit for two weeks, you still care for him.

you still care for his dumbass after what he did? you are something, something rare yet alluring. he has never met anyone alluring as you.

an alluring angel.

you can feel his eyes on you as you continue tending his wounds. it makes you tense a little, increasing your anxiety. his stare always felt intimidating but it isn’t like that this time. but you can’t ignore the rapid beating of your heart, which miguel can definitely hear due to his advanced abilities. it’s like a drum, a fast tempo of a song. he could listen to your heartbeat everyday but not when it’s beating so rapidly due to fear and anxiety. the guilt still lingers but grows stronger as he continues watching you, your delicate hands tending his wounds.

“i’m sorry…” it was so quiet, barely a whisper but it managed to break the prolonged silence. a silence that miguel had enough of.

you stop and look at him with a confused expression, brows furrowed. “what?…”

he finally looks away, looking down at his lap. “i’m sorry for… yelling at you. you didn’t deserve that...” audible guilt in his tone.

your heart aches immensely. part of you appreciates his apology but remembering why he yelled at you in the first place consumes your mind. “no… i’m the one who should be sorry. for invading your privacy was stupid of me, i shouldn’t have done that i—“

“no…” he softly cuts you off but you do so as well.

“no, miguel. what i did was wrong. i fucked up. that was stupid of me to do, betraying you like that.” you look up at him but he doesn’t meet your gaze, only staring in his lap. “i knew should’ve had stopped watching it and yet my fucking dumbass didn’t. so don’t excuse that… it was so fucking stupid of me.”

“i forgive you.”

you stare at him with wide eyes, visibly shocked.

“you’re not stupid… i’m the stupid one…” his head hangs low, afraid to meet your eyes. “i yelled at you and scared you away… it was wrong for me to do that. you’re not annoying or stupid, i never meant any of that…” miguel still avoids your gaze, the guilt consuming him entirely. his head still hangs low and shoulders slumped. after the apology, even though it feels like it isn’t enough, miguel has to tell you the truth. “that video… it’s one of my favorite memories of her…” he said softly but also sorrowfully.

you remain silent, attentive to what he has to say. miguel explains everything, the backstory of his mistake. the miguel of gabriella’s universe dying and him taking his place. recalling how much of an amazing kid she was, an exact replica of him. how much he loved his daughter wholeheartedly and unconditionally. then, he reveals the heartbreaking moment and it shatters your heart. now you understand everything, understand him.

“i’m sorry…” hints of sorrow in your tone. the immense temptation to wrap your arms around him, comfort him with an embrace consumes you. but you can’t, he’s heavily injured and his body doesn’t need anymore pressure. all you could do is place a gentle hand on his forearm, lightly touching him.

miguel’s gaze immediately lands on your hand, a bit surprised by the intimate gesture but doesn’t mind. he relishes the feeling of your soft delicate touch against his roughness, making him feel warm.

you notice his lingering gaze on your hand, making you quickly retrieve it. you don’t want to make him feel uncomfortable by the sudden gesture considering he isn’t a fan of physical touch after what he went through. but little did you know that miguel doesn’t mind, in fact, craves it. a little frown forms on his face when you moved your hand away. he knows you’re aware, mindful of his boundaries but he doesn’t mind it at this moment. not with you.

those thoughts leave his mind when a sharp pain on his back caused him to groan, hunching over with a clenched jaw and furrowed brows. you softly gasp at the sight of him in pain. “where does it hurt?” your eyes scan for the area of pain on his body.

he shakes his head. “it’s nothing, it’ll heal.” miguel said through gritted teeth, the pain consuming him.

“miguel, please… let me help you.” you pleaded, looking at him with a concern look.

he doesn’t need to look back at you to see those pouting lips and eyes of concern. just hearing your worried tone makes his heart warm. “my back.”

without wasting a second, you grab the little wash cloth and other items. as if he read your mind, miguel shifts to the side so his back is to you. by his command, his suit disintegrates but stops at his waistline. a soft gasp escapes your lips. a large bloody cut on his back, it ranges from one shoulder blade to the opposite hip. oh your heart aches at the sight, how painful it looks by a simple glance. instinctively, you slowly reach out with a hand but stop merely a few centimeters away from touching his skin. using your fingertips, you trace the cut just above it without touching. this poor man.

“i’m sorry…” your tender voice rings in his ears like a melody as you continue tracing your fingers. you feel terrible for him. is that really what it’s like? getting beaten the shit out of you on a daily basis? that doesn’t sound ‘super’ at all. supposedly that’s the sacrifice of being a hero, endure the pain no matter what. you wish miguel didn’t have to. he has suffered enough pain, he doesn’t need more.

snapping out thoughts, you quickly start tending to his large wound. another prolonged silence fills the room, the storm still ongoing. flashes of lightning from the distance lit up the entire apartment, followed by thunder which didn’t bother you both. you finished tending his wound with gauze. his suit covers up his back as you pack up the first aid kit.

“thank you…” his soft tone makes you stop in your tracks, looking back at him but he doesn’t look at you, his eyes still facing down at the floor.

a sad smile graces your lips. “of course.” as you turn around and pack up the first aid kit, his baritone voice stops you once again.

“after the mission, i was supposed to head back to HQ but…” miguel paused for a moment, taking a deep breath. “coming here was my first thought.”

“what?” you swiftly turn around in surprise to find his brown eyes already looking into yours, finally making eye contact of the night.

(cue “earned it” by the weeknd lmao).

you held each other’s gaze which feels like forever. those gorgeous brown irises stare into your own, as if they’re staring into your soul. words spread around that the eyes are the doorway to the soul. you simply get lost in his eyes, mesmerized by how pretty they are. you’ve never really took notice of that since he’s always wearing his mask. the longer you stare, the tension between you two grows immensely. sudden heat starts developing within you, becoming a bit flustered by the proximity. you catch his eyes glancing down, specifically at your lips before they quickly look back at you. that made your heart skip a beat, a warm sensation in your cheeks.

you are so pretty up close. of course he knew you were always attractive but goddamn — you look so damn desirable. that little nightdress of yours is like a cherry on top, making your appearance angelic. the warm lighting of your lamp does wonders on your features, specially your skin. you look so soft, you must feel so soft. god he has the biggest urge, desire to caress your arm and cheeks but he can’t. that would be too much, send the wrong message and screw up whatever you guys have. acquaintance? friends? yet — it feels more, more than that. miguel still doesn’t know why he feels like this, specifically towards you, and it scares him; terrifies him.

not only he has the desire to feel you but also taste you. his gaze keeps falling down to your lips, practically begging him to press his against them. and by some magnetic force, miguel finds himself slowly leaning towards your face. it’s like you caught him in your web. got him wrapped around your finger. those jewels you have for eyes attracting him closer, deeper in the cave. a pearl waiting to be found and picked from the clam, to be cherished.

seriously, what the hell is going on with him?

and to his surprise, you don’t pull back but instead stayed in place like you’re frozen. your heart pounds in your chest, your breathing growing heavy as you watch him lean closer towards you. why aren’t you pulling back? why are you just sitting there? why isn’t he stopping? what the actual hell is happening?

just as you’re merely inches away from each other, a beep noise comes from his watch. the both of you pull away from one another, pretending you weren’t just in each other’s faces. letting out a groan, miguel checks his gizmo to find a message jess. before he could even open the message, her tiny hologram suddenly appears in front of him through his gizmo.

“miguel, where’ve you been? you alright? you returned the doc ock variant back but you never returned to HQ.” the pregnant woman rests both hands on her hips, a concern look on her face.

miguel curses internally for the interruption, letting out a sigh. “i’m fine, jess. i’ll return in a few minutes. make sure things are still intact before my return.”

she nods at his command. before she disappears, her eyes shifts to the side to find you sitting next to miguel, making her eyebrows raise in surprise but she doesn’t say anything. she’ll definitely talk to miguel about this later. and with, the spider-woman vanishes, leaving you two in silence once again.

without looking back at you, miguel swiftly stands up but instantly regrets it when the pain of the large cut on his back makes him groan.

“wait — you have to be careful.” you stand up as well, hands reaching out but never touching him.

“it’s fine. i like said, it’ll heal. thank you.” he said softly, still not looking back at you as he walks towards the balcony door.

“at least use your watch to get back. the last thing you want is dealing with the storm.” you suggest, following him until you’re a few inches from him.

the tall brunette stops in front of the door. “you’re right.” tapping his gizmo, a colorful portal appears beside him. everything in your living room starts levitating, a low humming noise coming from the portal. just as he takes a step into the portal, your voice makes him stop halfway through.

“i forgive you.” you said, tenderness in your tone.

miguel turns around, a surprise expression illustrated on his face. the both of you hold each other’s gaze until he gives you a simple nod. the corner of his plump lips slightly twitching upward.

“don’t bust up your ass more than it already is.” a teasing smirk graces your lips.

that makes him scoff, rolling his eyes. you and your remarks; he secretly enjoys them. with one last glance, miguel turns back and steps through the portal. it closes and disappears after him, everything stops levitating and goes back to normal.

a soft sigh escapes your lips. what a night. an interesting night, to be honest. the tension still lingers in the air. at least he got medical attention and returned to HQ safely. you hope that large scar will show him mercy tonight, eventually heal.

walking back to the couch, you grab your robe and put it on. you then reach for daisy and carry her in your arms, walking to your bedroom.

“let’s go mimi.” you plant a gently kiss on her furry head as you enter your room.

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓. ♡ @loser-alert @keepitreal001 @iamperson12280 @nostalgicdaira @flordelalunas @oharasfilipinawife @cho-coquette @lavenderslemonade @palesatan @awkward-d3rs3-dr3amer @lilscast @beanieboy23 @dorck26 @kakabskbskdnd @4crew @deputy-videogamer @36namey @sin4tra @holographicang3l @migueloharasoulmate @darlingz99 @opalesquegirl @freehentai @rinverse @colorfulbluebirdpainter

© teenidlegirl. don’t steal, plagiarize, or translate my work. ♡

[jessmaybank]

My best friends brother series; Part 1 - Bubbles & Trouble

Series masterlist

Outer banks masterlist

Pairing(s): Rafe Cameron x fem! Kook reader.

Word count: 1.5k

Summary: After you had been left heartbroken by a fellow kook, you decide to let loose at the Cameron house per Sarahs request. Little did you know, your best friends brother may be the only one there to pick up the pieces.

Warnings: alcohol use, swearing, mentions of sex (smut in the next parts)

AN: In the words of Victoria Justice, my best friends brother is the one for me…

“Y/N please don’t cry! We both know he didn’t deserve you” Sarah protests through the phone, eager to help her best friend.

“I know, I know. But with her? Seriously? You have to be kidding” you cry, tears streaming down your rosy cheeks, painting your skin with your mascara.

After a year together, your now ex boyfriend Jake decided to cheat on you. Ironically, it was with the girl he always told you not to worry about. Turns out, when a man says “don’t be stupid, she means nothing to me. I love you Y/N” what they actually mean is “I’m ganna fuck this girl upstairs at a party whilst you and your friends are all downstairs looking for you”

Dick.

“Why don’t you come round tonight. My Brother is having some friends round for drinks in the hot tub and he said I can join, I’m sure he won’t mind if you come with” Sarah says.

You weigh out the pros and cons in your head, and decide that alcohol, your best friend and her brothers cute friends beats rotting away in your depression pit of a bedroom any day.

“Well, I do need a drink. I’ll be round later, love you Sarah” you say, a small smile creeping up on your face for what felt like the first time in days.

After a rocky patch In their relationship, Rafe and Sarah have actually been getting on relatively well recently. Although you don’t know much about Rafe considering you have been best friends with his sister since you were little, you did know he could be difficult at times. You always made conversation with him at his house or at parties to be polite, but nothing substantial ever came of it. His looks made up for his dry conversation, but you knew Sarah would kill you if you ever went near him.

A few hours passed and you pulled up to Tanny Hill in a blue bikini accompanied by some denim shorts. When you lazily knocked on the door, you were greeted with a topless Rafe. His defined muscles along with his tanned skin definitely made him a sight for sore eyes.

“Y/N hi, Sarah told me you were coming” he says, and you don’t miss the way his eyes flicker up and down your dainty figure somewhat subtly.

What takes prominence over that however, is the smile on his face which is half genuine and half full of pity. Great, Sarah has told him.

“Hey, yeah I hope that’s okay” you say.

He mutters a quick of course and ushers you into the kitchen. You agree almost immediately when he offers you a drink, which he takes notice of.

“She’s just getting changed upstairs. She’ll be down in a sec” Rafe says, when he observes you scanning the room for Sarah.

You smile and mutter a thank you as he puts a drink on the counter in front of you. As he’s about to leave to join his friends in the garden, you grab his arm.

He turns around with a confused but sincere look on his face, his blue orbs dazzling with intrigue.

“Uh look, I’m assuming Sarah told you about my breakup. I don’t want any pity okay, I just wanna get drunk and forget about it. So please, no more sympathy looks. I would actually prefer it if you were your moody self” you say.

Rafe chuckles, and you mirror his actions. His blue eyes burn into your own as he studies you. He’s always thought you were adorable as you always acted shy and innocent around him. Until now, however, he’s never realised how goddamn beautiful you were.

“Sure, I get it” he replies. Without thinking, Rafe brings his muscular arm up to your face, dragging your stray strands of hair from the front of your face behind your ear. The gesture was an attempt to comfort you without using words. Rafe was never very good at using his words, and he would much rather show someone how he felt than tell them.

Your body felt like it was set on fire as he touched you, the small action turning your brain into mush.

The two of you snapped back to reality as the sound of footsteps became louder and louder. Rafe cleared his throat as he pulled away from you, and you instantly grabbed your drink, the desire for alcohol increasing by the second as you looked everywhere but at him.

“Y/N!” Sarah shouts, pulling you in for a hug as she reaches you.

You return a hello as you embrace her petite frame. Your eyes accidentally catch Rafe’s as you hug Sarah. The smugness radiates off him as he sends you a wink, a smirk crawling on his tanned face before he walks out into the garden.

You realise his sympathy towards you was indeed short-lived as he’s back to his normal self. You mentally curse. Maybe pitiful looks we’re the better option after all.

The next hour or two consisted of you, Sarah, Topper, Kelce and Rafe crammed into their luxury hot tub. Everyone was pretty drunk by this point, which you blamed on Kelce for making everyone play drinking games. You even had to kiss Topper during a game of truth or dare which was extremely awkward for everyone involved.

Rafe had been sending you flirtatious looks all night, most of which you have returned with a glare. It’s like he’s trying to get you into trouble. The worst part about it though, was that it took a lot of self restraint not to play along and indulge in his suggestive actions.

“Okay, okay, last one I promise. Rafe truth or dare” Kelce says, before finishing the rest of his drink. You’ve lost count of how much you have drank tonight. It turns out drowning your sorrows is a pretty effective method for solving your problems.

“Dare” he says without hesitation, and you admire his braveness.

“I dare you… to kiss Y/N” he says with a smirk. Oh no.

“Gross!” Sarah yells, her body swaying to the music in the background. It was clear she was the drunkest out of all of us.

Your eyes widen as you realised what Kelce has just said, eyes practically popping out of your skull. Rafe swaps places with Topper to sit next to you, and as you turn you head to face him you notice his eyes turn dark with lust.

Before Rafe could make a move though, Sarah leans over the hot tub to throw up. You’ve never been happier to see someone throw up, and you mentally thank Sarah for never being able to handle her drink.

“I think that’s enough for you tonight” Topper laughs at the blonde chucking her guts up before him.

Sarah’s words are slurred as she tries to reply, and Kelce and topper carry her out of the tub and into the house, putting her into bed.

As the three leave, you can practically feel the tension rising between you and Rafe. You know you should just get out and call for a ride home, but part of you is burning to know what his full red lips would feel like against yours, or how good it would feel to have him inside of you.

You subside your dirty thoughts as you start to get out of the hot tub, but Rafe stops you by pulling you down onto his lap so your back is against his chest.

You don’t know wether to freeze up, or relax under his touch, a flutter of adrenaline pulsing through your veins as you sit on the lap of your best friends older brother.

“What are you doing” you breathe, the rise and fall of your chest an indication of your fast beating heart.

“I think you know what I’m doing” he whispers in a low and raspy tone in your ear. His hand runs up and down your thigh, and you can feel your arousal spilling out of you at his seductive words.

Rafe grabs your jaw and turns your face towards him. Once again his eyes are filled with lust and if you weren’t already sitting down, your knees probably would have buckled.

You don’t know weather it was the alcohol or weather you just wanted to do it, but you welcomed his kiss. The kiss was slow and his lips were soft, which was unexpected, but you loved it. His tongue teased your own as his hand ran down your neck and then into your hair. This kiss held more passion than anything you had experienced with your ex the whole year you were together.

When you felt Rafes fingers run over the place you wanted him the most, you snapped back into reality. He’s your best friends brother, what the hell are you doing.

“Fuck, we can’t do this” you say, pulling away from him.

Needing to get out of this situation, you spring up out of the hot tub, grab your towel and your belongings and rush inside, ignoring Rafes protests for you to stay. You texted Sarah that your leaving, saying that you’ll call her tomorrow and that you hope she’s alright.

Rafe sat there for a while, waiting for his erection to go away before he could find his friends. For some reason, although the had just been rejected, he just couldn’t shake the feeling that this was only the beginning with you and him.

In honour of buzzcut Rafe being all over my tik tok feed today, it’s only right I came back with another fic! Im hoping this series has about 5 parts. Enjoy bitches!

[adonisdoesstuff]

Bob Velseb x GN Reader! No Filter.

Bob stalked you for a while and he was ready to make his first move on you but he didn't count for one thing...

AN: sorry the grossness, this is my first time writting something like this and posting it on tumblr

Also english is not my first language, so, sorry for mistakes

CW: Blood, Licking, Stalking and some gross things.

——————————————————————————————————

You woke up in your couch, it was night. slowly looking around feeling dizzy, you put your hand in your forehead trying to remember what you did that night before sleeping, you check your phone and it was 20:03, You quickly remember it's halloween and you fell asleep after coming back tired from work.

You receive a text from your friend LIla.

Lila: Hey (Y/N)! i was thinking about going trick or treating, you know, just for kicks and giggles, would you like to come? Jaune is going too!

You smile and decides to reply.

(Y/N): Sure thing! just wait a sec k?

Lila: Okay!

You get up from the couch and goes upstairs to take your work uniform off and change to a better outfit.

As you got dressed, you begin to feel unease, like there was someone watching you, you then walked towards the window and there was a tall and big figure behind the trees watching you with a creppy grin that almost covered their face.

Your eyes widen and you quickly ran down the stairs to check if theres any open windows around the house, luckly there were non, you sigh in relief but then there was a sound of glass breaking, coming from the living room.

you grab a cooking knife from your kitchen and quickly hides under your table. you can only see their legs, they walk closer to your direction, you cover your mouth but that was a useless move.

"Oh Darlin', I can smell your coconut lotion from a mile away~" The man said. he had a southern accent and a beautiful voice but to be honest he was breaking into your house and you couldn't think about it now.

"Shit, i should have used my favorite one." You said out loud, you quickly shut your mouth but accidentally cut your own cheek with your knife. "Fuck, that's gonna give me a infection." you said to yourself as you winced from the pain.

You hear the sound of a knife being pulled, so you quickly throw the table onto him. it worked well, when he was down you finally could see him.

"OH, YOU'RE THAT DEVIL GUY FROM THE NEWS!" You said to him as you ran upstairs.

You run over to your room, you close the door behind you and you start looking for your phone to call the police, you couldn't find it until you heard your door opening and seeing the devil guy holding your phone.

"Thank you, can you give me my phone? i need to call the cops." You said without a hesitation and he looks confused at you.

"If you want it so much, come get it~" The devil guy said as puts your phone his pocket.

"Ugh, What do you want anyways?" You ask as you pull your knife to defend yourself.

"Oh Darlin'~ that's a very intriguing question." He said as he got closer to you, you pointed your knife to his neck, he grabbed your arm, you tried cutting his neck but he pulls your knife away and threw it on the ground.

you went for his knife but it wasn't in his hands, you up to him, he was still with that creepy smile.

"And the answer is you~" He holds your body tightly.

"W-where is your knife?" You ask to the devil man, stuttering. he slowly holds your face, you tried pulling it away but it was useless.

"HEY HEY HEY-" he begins to bite your shoulder, you wince, trying to pull him away but he keeps going. He licks the blood from your cheek, as he keeps doing it, your cheeks warm up weirdly.

"That's gross." You say and he chuckles. he pulls away and keeps staring at you as he licks his lips. he feels something grabbing his mask, before he could look, (Y/N) pulls his mask away and finally gets to see his face, he was very attractive man, you couldn't help yourself to say that straight to his face.

"Wow, you're hot." (Y/N) says as they look to the man, which had a confused look on.

"What?" He asks, still holding you.

"I said you're hot." (Y/N) said and the man frowns.

"Why aren't ya' scared?!" His accent got thicker, his cheeks began to blush, he keeps asking himself what he did wrong? why didn't he scare you?

"I mean, honestly, someone with a face like that wouldn't make me scared, it would make me feel other things." (Y/N) said as they blushed as well, He got furious and quickly pushed you away.

"What is wrong with you?" The man asked.

"I'm the one who needs to ask you that, you're a serial killer, you broke into my house and tried to make a move on me without even inviting me for dinner." (Y/N) said, the man took a few steps back.

"If you keep acting like this, i am gonna have you for dinner." He grabs his mask back, he grabs your phone from his pockets and throws it into your bed, he walks towards the window.

"I don't know, i don't think i would taste very good." You scratch your head.

"What is your name anyway?" You ask as he gets ready to leave. he looks at you, still frustrated.

"Bob Velseb." He stares at you.

"I'm (Y/N)." You said to him.

"I know that, i know a lot about you." Bob jumps from the window, you run towards it and he is no longer to be seen. you sigh in relief, that worked really well, playing with his feelings until he leaves.

you close the window and grabs your phone, only to see a text from Lila.

LIla: Are you okay?

(Y/N): Yeah yeah just a little thing that happened but wait for me

Before leaving, you wash your face, you put a band-aid on your cheek, you barricade your windows and then walk out of the house towards Lila's.

Bob kept watching you from the distance, he got obsessed with you ever since he laid eyes on you, and now he finally saw that you're just as weird, so he began to think about you a lot more and more.

[timelessstardust99]

home ✷ sylvie l. x fem! reader

SPOILER WARNING FOR LOKI SEASON 2 EPISODE 2

pairing: Sylvie & Reader (romantic)

summary: with the help of Brad, Loki and Mobius successfully found Sylvie, who worked at a McDonald's with the woman she couldn't imagine life without.

Literally just finished Loki season 2, and my love for Sylvie returned, so here is a little one shot of Sylvie on the timeline with the only person she truly trusts. I also don't own Loki, the characters, nor do I own the gif used in this.

Sylvie worked meticulously behind the counter as y/n worked alongside her up front, humming to a song that was stuck in her head. The blonde near her couldn't help but send the woman a small gentle smile, which y/n caught and grinned at her with adoration in her eyes. Sylvie really couldn't get enough of the love this midgaurdian would give her. "Hey, can either of you refill the straw dispenser when one of you gets a sec?" Jack spoke to the two women, Sylvie went past y/n and leaned on the counter in front of the cash register.

"already done it." Sylvie smiled at him.

"she's always on the top of things, Jack, you need to remember that." y/n laughed, bringing an order up towards the front. Jack shook his head at them. "Bill, order's up." y/n called out. She handed the tray to the man.

"Thanks, y/n" she smiled. The younger woman felt Sylvie tense beside her, the smile fading from the blonde's lips. y/n looked to her friend and gently touched her arm. "Syl?" The Asgardian didn't move or acknowledge her, her focus was on her male variant. y/n followed her gaze towards the door, to see a man with raven locks. Him and Sylvie looked so similar yet different it kind of creeped her out. He moved towards them, he glanced at y/n beside Sylvie, who tilted her head in confusion.

"hi." The man said, looking back at Sylvie, who was a little skeptical of her male counterpart.

"hi." Sylvie said a bit forcefully, taking y/n's hand and pulling it from her shoulder gently. y/n let it fall to her side as she watched them, curious. "Listen, I haven't got all day. You're gonna order something? Or, what?" She asked, agitated. Oh, y/n hates when she's agitated.

"can we talk?" He glanced at y/n, "privately." She raised a brow. She wasn't sure he noticed her anymore, considering the way he seemed to have his eyes set on Sylvie. The blonde sighed, putting a hand on the other woman's shoulder.

"you actually acknowledged me, and all this time I thought you were ignoring me cause you have the hots for my roommate?" She crossed her arms.

"charmed." The man couldn't help but say.

"my breaks in five minutes." Sylvie said, shoving away from the counter, her back turned to them. he looked back at y/n who stuck her tongue at him, turning away to help Sylvie. He stood there for a moment, processing what had happened, before leaving.

"so, Syl, who was tall, dark, and broody?" She pointed towards the retreating figure. Sylvie sighed.

"remember what I told you a few months back?" Sylvie asked. y/n hummed.

"yeah, about the TVA, and how you were a wanted Variant, and you ran into you -- oh. Oh!" Sylvie chuckled. "Wait, so that's your Male Variant?" She whispered to Sylvie.

"yup. Honestly, I have nothing to do with him or the TVA anymore. All I need right now is you and this timeline." y/n shied away and continued to work, a dorky smile on her lips. y/n's heart sored high into the skies at the declaration Sylvie did. This blonde woman didn't know what she did to the Midgaurdian.

"I'm glad you feel that way Syl, and I'm definitely glad I'm on your good side." She laughed, Sylvie chuckled, nudging her. "Hey, my breaks before yours, only a few minutes, but I could come and be your emotional support." y/n suggested. Sylvie smiled.

"yeah, I'd like that. To hell what he said," Sylvie laughed. y/n smiled.

✷

The two women walked out from the back, rounding the corner to where Loki had been standing, waiting for Sylvie. His brows raised when he saw y/n. "I thought I said alone?"

"you said privately. That's very different." y/n smiled towards him, her hands occupied with her launch.

"it's a short break, so talk fast." Sylvie chimed in, drinking some of her soda. She went to her truck and unlatched the tailgate, as y/n climbed onto it, sitting down as she drank some of her own soda. Sylvie sat down next to her.

"with her here?" He asked.

"with me here buddy boy," y/n was starting to get onto his nerves and she could tell. There was a long silence until he decided to break it.

"uh, I know I'm the last person you want to see." Loki started.

"correct." Sylvie said. He sighed.

"I, uh... I haven't come here to make trouble." He said, trying to calm her down. It didn't work of course.

"then why are you here?" She asked.

"uh... This is gonna sound strange. Stranger to her I'm certain," he pointed to y/n who was munching on her food. "But... There's been a problem. It's complicated." He looked at her then to y/n, "does she really need to be here."

"it's nothing I haven't heard before. TVA related I believe?" y/n smirked. It came naturally to her after spending so much time with Sylvie. The blonde tried to stifle her laughter.

"you told her?" He was completely astounded that Sylvie would trust a normal Midgaurdian with that sort of information. Sylvie shrugged.

"don't worry, space boy, I haven't told anyone. Plus, I'd be called crazy anyways," y/n shrugged, leaning slightly on Sylvie as she drank more of her drink. Loki shook his head, being sidetracked wasn't on his schedule.

"I've been pulled through time. Between the past and the present. I was in the past..." Loki trailed off, the word "space boy" echoing in his head as a memory he saw of Sylvie and y/n. He didn't know that this was her until she called him that.

He watched the elevator doors be pried open, two figures inside, both women. Sylvie and her companion y/n, who helped keep the doors opened with the pruning stick she had. "There you are, space boy. Was beginning to worry you got lost." He had watched her, tears stinging in his eyes as he saw the two women. He had been so scared, and was also mildly surprised to see a human with his female counterpart. Then he was pruned. His memory was hazy after being pruned, so he couldn't remember who the human was until now.

"oh, just get to the point, Loki." Sylvie said, adjusting a bit so y/n was comfortably leaning against her shoulder. Her hair brushing against the Blonde's cheek.

"Sylvie, I was in the future and I saw you. I saw you both." y/n sat up, her ears peeking at the mention of her being there to. Sylvie shifted uncomfortably. She wouldn't believe it. "The TVA is in danger. And you were there. She was also there. I need to know why." Now Sylvie knows she'd never let her best friend into the TVA. She'd never do it.

"so you see the future now? Cool." Sylvie said, sipping on her soda.

"it's not something I chose." Loki said.

"look, as much as I'd love to see the TVA burnt to the ground, I have no intention of going back there. My life's here now, with y/n, and I'm not running. I'm happy." Sylvie said. y/n gave Loki a smug look. "And no way in hell is she going there, ever." She put an emphasis on "ever" as she glared at her counterpart.

"explain what I saw, then." He said.

"I don't know. I don't care." She told him.

"it's the future. It's going to happen." He told the duo.

"is it? Really? Because that sounds a lot like the futures already been written. And we both know that it hasn't. Not anymore. I made sure of that." Sylvie was smug, and had momentarily forgotten her human companion who was now confused. What did Sylvie mean by that?

"enchant me. You can see what I saw." Loki said. Enchant?

"I don't want to see. I want nothing to do with this. I have no answer." She said. She was irritated and angry.

"if we don't work together, I can't guarantee how long this will be here. Or how long she'll be here." He pointed to y/n.

"you have some nerve coming here." She sneered.

"nerve? This is bigger than the TVA. This is about everything. You like it here? You like this place? You've made a home? You like her company? If what He Who Remains said is true, the TVA is the only defense. And if what I saw of you both is true, then there's nothing that stands between this world and utter destruction. Without THE TVA, all of this, everything... Is gone." y/n looked worried. Was her world going to unravel just like that? She knew her life was already altered when she met Sylvie, but would she end up like nothing with no home or timeline to go back to?

Sylvie hopped off the tailgate, helping y/n down as she put the gate up. "We've got to get back to work." She walked away, y/n following after as she gripped her wrist, trying to slow her down.

"Syl, slow down," Sylvie ignored her.

"you'll give everyone free will and walk away?" She turned to him, her fingers intertwining with y/n quickly. The Midgaurdian was surprised by the sudden hand holding. Loki's eyes locked onto their joined hand, also slightly surprised.

"that's the way it works. You're welcome." She said, gripping the other woman's hand.

"he shows up again, his Variants, what are you gonna do?" He asked.

"kill 'em." y/n looked at her with wide eyes. Kill them?

"sorry to interrupt. I think Brad's got something that he might want to get off his chest." The older man Loki came here and spoke, the duo turned to him, still hand in hand.

"Zaniac's getting a sequel. And you three are invited." Brad said. He wore the TVA jumpsuit.

"hey, we can wait all day." The older man said. She could only assume this was Mobius.

"no, we can't. We need to talk about this back at the TVA." Brad said as Loki came towards them.

"no. We can talk here. Now." Mobius said, grabbing his shoulder.

"now." Loki said. y/n grabbed onto Sylvie's arm, a little nervous. Sylvie grabbed her other hand and squeezed it lightly.

"fine. If we stay here, we're all gonna die. They're gonna die. Orange shirt, she's gonna die. Her little companion, dead. Most importantly, we are all gonna die. This is gone! Unless we..." Sylvie let her friend go and went to the man and used her powers to see what he saw. She let go.

"they're gonna bomb every branch." Sylvie said.

"yeah, including this one." Brad said.

"where do we go?" Loki asked.

"I'll show you." Sylvie said, she touched the pad on her wrist and changed her clothes.

y/n didn't care, all she cared about right now was to help save her home. Her family was her, and her friends. Everything she loved was here, and the woman she loved was gonna save their home, and she was gonna help.

After Mobius dropped Brad off to the TVA, y/n followed them through a Time Portal, all four ducked behind boxes. It seemed Sylvie noticed her friend next to her. "No, what are you doing?"

"you forget Syl, wherever you go, I go." y/n spoke. Sylvie groaned. She hated when y/n did that.

"what are they doing with the Time Doors?" Mobius asked.

"looks like they're connected to the Tempad's." Sylvie said, her dagger resting in her grip.

"maybe that's why Brad's was modified." Mobius said.

"they're killing everyone. Innocent people," y/n felt a tear slip down her cheek. The two Loki's and Mobius looked to the regular Variant human, all sympathetic towards her.

"minutemen are carrying reset charges." Mobius said, getting the attention from y/n.

"that's how they're bombing all the timelines at once. Connected to the control panel." Sylvie said, switching which hand holds her dagger as she rubs her friends back. She definitely owed y/n some ice cream and a movie night.

"that's our target." Mobius said, looking at an older woman behind a panel.

"I'll distract them." Loki said, which they agreed on. Loki got up and ran at a Minuteman and slammed him to the ground, whereas Sylvie used her magic to throw a ball of green at one of the Tempad pillars.

"our mission is compromised." The older woman said, as y/n ducked underneath an arm and kicked his legs out from underneath him, knocking him out in the process as she grabbed his Pruning stick. "Set off what you can!" She pruned one of the minutemen that came after her. All this time with Sylvie and she may have picked up a few things. She kicked another who came too close to her as he crashed into one of the pillars, breaking it.

"we're too late. Finish it!" y/n pruned another one, before roundhouse kicking another as she flipped her hair out of her face. She ran over towards Mobius and the two Loki's, swinging her Pruning stick with a smug smile as Sylvie held a hand out for Loki, her magic glowing in her palm.

"don't over think it." She said as Loki gripped her hand, before a sudden shock wave of magic knocked the rest out.

"holy shit!" y/n exclaimed. Sylvie and Loki smiled at her exclamation, glad someone liked their magic.

After some time, all of Dox's team and herself were captured by the TVA, with one of the minutemen coming towards Mobius. "Is this all of Dox's loyalists?" The man asked.

"everyone who did escape." He said. He turned to Loki and the two women, who sat side by side. "Loki, we need to go." Mobius said, going through a Time Door. Loki followed, glancing at the duo before entering.

Sylvie went after them along with y/n, who still held the stick tightly in her hands. The door closing on them as Loki looked at the two. y/n looked at the screen in front of them, knowing that those were branches. Those were people. People they could've saved. And now they're dead. What if her and Sylvie's home was dead too? "Those are people. Those are lives." A woman in the front said. Then beeping could be heard in the front.

"uh, guys, I got a hit on Renslayer's Tempad." One of the other people said, the other gathering around him as Loki looked towards the two women. Sylvie crossed her arms as she watched Loki come to them.

"Sylvie..." He started.

"is this the best you can do?" She asked, anger in her voice as y/n gripped the pruning stick in her hand. She was angry too. She could've saved them. They would've still been alive if that Bradley character didn't stall them.

"there was nothing we could do." Loki said.

"bullshit." y/n snarled, glaring at him. "We could've saved them, at least some of them." Her voice wavered. Loki looked at y/n and understood why Sylvie was so fond of her. She was carrying, even for people she has never met. She was a pure heart.

"some defense. The TVA is the problem. It's broken, it's rotten." Sylvie said, taking her Tempad and opening a door, "we're going home... If it's still there." She said, grabbing y/n and dragging her through.

"please, don't. It's harder..." The door closed, leaving him there. y/n and Sylvie didn't need this, any of it really. And they were one of the lucky survivors, because their timeline had been spared. They were home, finally, and they could forget about the TVA and all of its dramas. At least, one of them could.

I don't think I've seen anyone make a Sylvie x reader where the reader is on the same timeline as Sylvie, and I really wanted to make one. So here it is ^^ would y'all like this to be a series? Like chapters or keep it to a one shot?

[rosicheeks]

I ship you and brutalfxcking 👀

^^ my exact reactions when I think of @brutalfxcking

[sammygvfslut]

i like you a latte | s. kiszka

Summary: Words cannot espresso how much you mean to Sammy Kiszka.

Word Count: 2.3k

A/N: Hey besties!!! this is my first ever sam fic, and i really hope you guys enjoy it! it’s super cheesy so beware of some tooth-rotting fluff ahead. any and all feedback is appreciated <3

Loud chattering and the sounds of espresso machines hissing and whistling filled the cafe. Every few seconds or so when a new customer walked in, a soft ringing above the door rang. Glancing at the clock, you sighed as it read 7am. Way too early for your liking. You wished to be back in bed under the covers with your cat Joey snuggling. Plus, the cold weather made it even harder for you to get out of bed every morning. Damn you, winter.

“Good morning.” A voice said suddenly, startling you as you slightly jumped. “Whoops, didn’t mean to scare you there for a sec.”

Turning around at the voice, your heart fluttered and a smile pulled at the corners of your lips. “G-Good morning, Sam! Nope, didn’t scare me at all. I was just uh...focusing very hard and you caught me off guard.”

A chuckle rumbled from his chest, his own lips curving and flashing that beautiful grin. God, he made you melt. You took a quick chance to admire his appearance for the day, luscious brown locks pulled back into a low bun with a few stray pieces framing his face, and he wore a slightly oversized brown grandpa looking sweater. He exuded true fall energy today and all you wanted to do was snuggle with him watching a movie while sipping on hot chocolate. “Right. Focusing on what exactly? Staring at the register?”  

“S-Sure. Yes, the register.” Totally not him instead. “Um, I realized it turned off right now and my mind blanked to turn it back on.”

Sam placed a hand on your shoulder as he laughed, his touch leaving a wave of goosebumps to rise out of your skin. “You’re so cute. I’ll leave you to that then, but if you need help trying to get the register to turn back on again, let me know.” And with that, he sent you a wink and turned on his heel away to start on the customers orders.

Alright, alright. So maybe early shifts weren’t as bad as you thought thanks to your insanely charming co-worker. Sam and you had been working together for the past year, and almost instantly you started falling for him. He welcomed you with open arms and he was a great help when it came to your training. Your co-workers were nice too, but Sam took that extra step in making sure you were comfortable with what you were doing. If you made a mistake and were freaking out about it, he somehow knew the way to calm you down. He was too precious and good for this cruel world. And most of all, out of your league too.

With his dashing looks and amazing personality, you just knew there was no way he’d ever feel the same about you. Except, any time you’d voice that thought to any of your friends at work, they’d tell you you’re crazy and that he likes you too. Apparently they caught on to the signs more than you did, which wasn’t a shocker considering that you’d have no clue if a guy was interested in you unless he blatantly confessed. So, trying to figure out hints was completely pointless for you.

“Uh oh, she’s deep in thought,” one of your friends/co-workers, Danny, teased. He also happened to be Sam’s best friend, and current band mate since the pair are in a band with Sam’s older twin brothers. “I bet I can guess what, or who you were thinking about.”

“Don’t even say it,” you warned with a finger, “He’s literally four feet away from us—”

“So?” Danny rolled her eyes with his arms folded. “Why don’t you just tell him how you feel? Come on, it’s been almost a year now. What’s the worst that can happen if you confess?”

“He can hear me.” You stared blankly at him, shaking your head. “Absolutely not though, Danny. I will not embarrass myself from the humiliation I’d have to face from his rejection.”

Danny groaned frustratedly, placing his hands on both your shoulders and shaking them. “You’re so hopeless! Y/N, how many times do the guys and I have to tell you he likes you too!” He raised his voice a little louder than necessary which accidentally caught the attention of almost everyone in the cafe. Sam included unfortunately. Danny’s eyes widened, silently cursing under his breath. “Carry on, everyone.”

As much as you hated to admit it, Danny wasn’t lying when he mentioned about the guys agreeing that Sam likes you too. Every time you came over Josh’s apartment and Sam was there he’d find any little excuse to have his arm around you or teasing you constantly. You’d shake it off that he was just treating you like a friend would, but of course the guys would disagree with you.

“We’ll finish this conversation later,” Danny told you sternly, “But for now, and don’t make it obvious, but Sam’s looking at you.” A mischievous grin spread across his face as he winked and stepped to the next register before greeting a new customer and taking their order.

Heart pounding out of your chest, you slowly looked over your shoulder in Sam’s direction. You saw his head quickly turn and finish off the drink in front of him. Your cheeks burned at this and tried taking deep, slow breaths to calm yourself down. Didn’t work much, but as a new customer waved and told you their order, your breathing turned back to normal.

On the other end of the counter, Sam was currently freaking the hell out from what he heard a few minutes ago between you and Danny. He didn’t mean to, but he also wasn’t that far from either of you. Plus, Danny wasn’t the best at keeping his voice low. He had a strong feeling he knew you were talking about him, and for that reason alone he overflowed the cup he was pouring into and made a mess. He cursed under his breath and wiped his hands on his apron, shaking his head.

You caught sight of this and rushed to his side, grabbing a cloth from under the sink and started wiping the sticky counter. Sam was certain his cheeks were tomato red from his embarrassment, making a complete fool of himself for not paying attention to what he was doing. More so focusing on your conversation and your damn smile from earlier. You weren’t the only one here with a crush.

“T-Thanks, Y/N.” Sam chuckled nervously, throwing the cup in the trash and tossing the drink pitcher he held in the sink. “I’m normally not this much of a dumbass.”

“I’m not too sure about that one, Kiszka.” You teased lightly with a grin. “It happens, don’t worry,” you assured. “I’m just glad it was cold tea you spilled and not steaming coffee. I’d hate for you to get a third degree burn. That happened to me once, don’t recommend it.”

“Didn’t I drive you to the hospital for that?” he asked. “I think that might’ve happened a few months ago.”

Your eyes widened at the memory. “Oh shit, you’re right. God, I’m still so sorry I had to drag you into that.”

Sam shook his head, lips curving and cheeks no longer flushed. “For the hundredth time, stop apologizing about that, Y/N. You know you can count on me for anything, so of course I didn’t mind driving you to the hospital. I remember even blasting some ABBA on the way over there so you’d have something else to focus on instead of the pain you endured.”

You smiled at the memory. “Didn’t we also go out for ice cream afterwards?”

He nodded, lightly rubbing his arm. “Yeah, it was a lot of fun. I mean, I always have fun when I’m with you.”

Your breath caught in your throat at his last few words, blinking slowly. “O-Oh.”

Oh? That’s all you have to say? Nice one, Y/N.

Sam’s heart dropped. Fuck. Maybe you weren’t talking about him after all. Maybe it was Danny or one of his brothers that you had a crush on and he was mistaken about it. He wanted nothing more than for the ground to swallow him whole right about now. Being anywhere but here sounded splendid to him.

“Y-Y/N, I—“

“Ihavefunwhenimwithyoutoo,” you muttered all too quickly, and poor Sam barely even understood what you said. He didn’t have the chance to ask you to repeat yourself because you quickly walked away to the back and he was left with a tug at his chest, frowning.

Within the next few days after Sam’s tea spill, literally, things between you and him became...awkward. Something went off in him to become even more clumsy than normal and forget everything he’s ever known when you’re near him. He’d get flustered, stuttering a lot, messing up orders, dropping dishes, and nearly tripping all the time. He hated it so much and wished he could just muster up the courage and apologize for being such an idiot and confess his feelings to you. Even during your hangouts with the guys, Sam and you wouldn’t interact as much and honestly you were well aware you were being super childish and immature about the situation. Sam did too, and he needed to snap the fuck out of it.

The next few days at work Sam would ignore Danny’s little side comments about his immaturity and continued working in silence. For the rest of his shift he didn’t talk much to anyone other than the customers. He wanted to talk to you when he had the chance, but then he’d quickly back out and walk the opposite direction.

He couldn’t figure out why it was so futile for him to just grow a sack and tell you he likes you. He’d never gone through this struggle before. Then again, as cheesy as it sounded, the other girls he’d asked out in the past couldn’t compare to you. Never in a million years, and maybe he was too afraid that he didn’t deserve someone as amazing as you.

Nearing closing that same day, it was only you, Sam, and Danny. The flow of customers died down and not many people came in towards the end of the night which you were grateful for. It finally gave you the chance to relax a bit and start cleaning things up ahead of time so you wouldn’t have to stay after. Joey and a nice warm bath were waiting for you at home.

While Sam decided on working the register and you and Danny would clean, he grabbed your arm and led you into the back.

“What are you two still doing not dating each other or talking?! It’s been way too long now, Y/N. And since it’s only us three tonight, you have no other choice. Come on, I know you can’t take this any longer, and he can’t either. I can take over the register for a bit while you and him talk.”

You chewed on your bottom lip, contemplating his offering. As incredibly thankful as you were for his help, you were also scared shitless of the possible outcome. Perhaps it was finally time though that you say fuck it and say what you needed to. You couldn’t go on for any longer to keep your feelings bottled up inside. Maybe, just maybe he might feel the same way, and by God you hoped that would be the case.

Inhaling, you nodded slowly and made your way back to where you were. Your eyes searched for Sam and saw he was busy making a drink, except there was no one else here besides you, him and Danny. It could’ve been a drink for him, so you shrugged this off and went towards the sink to start washing the dishes.

A few moments later, Sam cleared his throat from behind you. “H-Hey Y/N, so um, I know the créme brûlée latte is your favorite, and I thought I’d make you one. You seemed really stressed and busy today and I wanted to try to cheer you up. I hope that’s okay.”

Your heart swelled at his generosity and your cheeks burned as you felt his gaze burning into you, his palms soaking from nervousness. “Sam, you didn’t have to do that for me.”

He shrugged casually, a small smile on his lips and his cheeks tinted a light pink. “It’s okay, I wanted to. And I uh, tried my best on the art. Hope you like it.”

Raising a brow, your gaze dropped on your cup and your eyes widened as you saw what he was referring to. A small coffee cup with the words I like you a latte around it.

“It’s true,” Sam chewed on his bottom lip while running his fingers through his hair. “I really like you Y/N, and I’m so sorry for acting like such an idiot these last few days around you. I don’t know what came over me, and I’m sorry that I didn’t talk to you much either.”

Setting your cup on the counter, you took a step closer to him and cupped his cheek, rubbing your thumb softly against his soft skin. “You don’t have to apologize for anything, Sam. I’m sorry for not talking to you too, as well as for making a fool of myself. I tend to do that around someone I like.”

Finally, the realization dawned on Sam as a wide grin pulled at his lips. “Glad we’re on the same boat.”

“I-Is it alright if I kiss you?” he asked shyly, his eyes sparkling as he looked at you.

You giggled. “You don’t even have to ask, loverboy.” You playfully rolled your eyes and cupped his other cheek before connecting his lips with yours.

A smirk pulled at Danny’s lips as he glanced at the two of you, shaking his head. Josh and Jake owed him $20 now. 

It was about damn time that Sam and you finally espresso’d your love for each other. 

tagging these lovely folks bc they helped inspired me and their work is amazing <3 @godlygreta​ / @flowervanfleet​ / @dharma-divine​

[theyreonlynoodlesmike]

Could I please get a Tommy fic where he's not the one who's possessed (idk who instead) but anyway him and the reader both make it onto the bus but like not without a struggle and maybe the reader gets injured, not life threatening but bad, and he comforts them as they drive away. And maybe this injury also elicits a confession from them like they knew each other before and are friends but they both like each other but won't say it. Confession could be words or just an abrupt kiss or mix of both. Anyway they're both camp councillors and borderline flirt with each other all the time. Thanks!

OH HO HO MOTOR IS RUNNING

I Thought I Lost You For a Sec (Tommy Slater x Reader)

Warnings: angst, murder/blood/violence/gore, major and minor character death, attempted murder, major character injury, Arnie was chosen!au, kissing, confessions, applying first aid written badly, Alice dies (i’m so sorry queen), Arnie dies (sorry king)

Word Count: 1.9k

"How much Tylenol did you take, asshole?" Alice asked, stepping closer to her boyfriend. She'd been looking around the shelves, busying herself while the three of you explored on. Arnie wasn't feeling well, apparently. He'd just sat on the bench, and closed his eyes.

You, Tommy and Cindy had gone into the room with all the creepy witch shit, and your flashlight shined on Arnie's name carved into the wall.

"That isn't funny. Alice will freak." Cindy said, looking to you. As if you'd carved into solid stone with your fingernails. And, really, this wasn't how you'd prank your friends. You'd known them all for forever, holding them all together like one single piece of string as they grew apart. You and Tommy glanced at eachother, and then you gave her a small shake of your head.

"I didn't do it." You told her. Tommy had been standing right besides you as Cindy looked at the books, found that the cave went deeper. The three of you looked towards the entrance to the room, your heart sinking.

Alice stepped right in front of Arnie, snapping in his face to try to get his attention. She even shook his shoulders, saying,

"Earth to Arnie. Earth to Arnie." Before she walked away with a sigh. She wanted to get out of there. This witch hunt had been a deadend, and now she was stuck babysitting. She looked over her shoulder when she saw her boyfriend get up, and head towards the wall. She watched him pick something up, and she asked, "Arnie? What the hell are you doing?"

Your flashlights shined in the dark, shined the curly, brown haired figure holding an axe. Tommy was behind you, but you and Cindy had gone through the tunnel first. And, before any of you could tell Alice to step back, to run across the room to where it was safe, you all watched as Arnie swung his axe into her head. You and Cindy screamed as you watched him split her head open, but Tommy was grabbing you both by the shoulders and saying,

"Shit, go! C'mon!" Before Arnie was even done. He pushed you guys through the hole, following you both back into the room. The three of you looked around, trying to find an exit, when Cindy looked at the altar. She ran over, trying to tip it, before she yelled,

"Tommy, help me!" And Tommy was right behind her. He helped her knock it over, all of the books and candles landing with a crash. Tommy grabbed you by the arm, yanking you forward and making you go first through the hole as Cindy yelled,

"Go, go, go!" You ducked down and crawled as fast as you could, Cindy pushing you to make you go faster. Just as you reached the end of the short tunnel, you heard Tommy yell. You turned and you saw that Arnie had followed you. And had grabbed Tommy's ankle. You screamed,

"Tommy!" And you watched as Cindy turned to try to grab his shoulders, and you scrambled to help. You watched as he was yanked back, quickly moving to lie flat and try to kick the brunette away. He kicked him once, twice, before he finally kicked him against the cave wall, and the pair of you dragged Tommy out before the cave could close around him.

You clamoured out, nearly falling as the rocks fell behind you. You could feel tears burning your eyes, from either the events of what had just happened or the dust that fell when the cave finally closed. Cindy sobbed, and you reached to grab onto the boy besides you. You held onto his arm, burying your face into his coat. Tommy held you close, smoothing his hand down your back before he paused and asked,

"Do you hear that?" He asked, and the three of you listened. It was a slow steady breathing, loud in the silence of the cave. Finally, Cindy asked,

"He's still alive?" And you ran a head over your face. You tried to keep it together, tried to keep yourself calm as you quickly said,

"He- He can't get us. He can't get us." You said, and leaned back into the warmth of the boy besides you. "He can't get us." You repeated one more time, like a mantra to yourself. You closed your eyes, trying not to cry as you buried your face into the shoulder of his coat.

***

"Tommy, take them to the bus and Ziggy and I will-" Cindy had started to say her plan. She'd gotten herself a shovel and Ziggy a trowel. The four of you had been discussing the witch, how you were finally going to break the curse. You'd each gone through hell, with Ziggy nearly being killed by Arnie, Cindy having to kill Arnie, Tommy nearly being crushed in the cave in, and you breaking your leg in the cave below, making Tommy have to carry you everywhere you went. But, you'd found the hand. Both you and Tommy's noses had started to bleed when you sat in the moss, and it only took a quick passage reading from Tommy for you to realize where you were sitting. The two of you had dug and ripped up the moss, before you finally found the skeleton hand of one Sarah Fier.

"What?" You yelled, staring in disbelief at her. You couldn't believe she was side-lining you. You looked to her sister, and then to Tommy. He grimaced, rubbing the back of his head. You scoffed. "So, that's it? Tommy and I find the hand and we don't even get to see it through?" You asked, and Cindy gave you a look. You knew that wasn't just it. She said your name quietly, her tone even as she said,

"You can't walk. Tommy- Tommy had to carry you here. And you need to get to a hospital." She said, and you frowned. You knew she was right. You knew that, perhaps, you were being a little unreasonable. That it would be even more unreasonable to make Tommy carry you all the way to the Sarah Fier tree. But it sucked. And, plus, you felt stronger with all of you together, even if Arnie laid in a heap in the kitchen. Even if there wasn't an axe murderer chasing after you now. Tommy reached over and gave your hand a squeeze, and you looked away. It was hard to say no to them, especially when Tommy was looking at you like that. He said a soft,

"It's okay. It's basically already over anyways. We just get to go home sooner." He said, and you couldn't deny that getting to see your bed, most likely a hospital bed first though, was compelling. And, well, you supposed you'd be alright if Tommy was the one coming with you. Sighing, you said,

"Fine. Fine." And you gave a defeated gesture. "But, you better not take all the credit when you talk to the papers." You said, cracking a half-attempt at joke. Cindy and Ziggy smiled, and Tommy gave your hand another squeeze. And, really, that was all you needed to make you feel better.

***

Tommy had chased down the last bus, yelling,

"Wait, wait!" As it started to drive off. It came to a screeching stop, and it's doors hesitated before they opened. Tommy had been carrying you bridal-style, so he had to turn sideways as he stepped onto the bus. "Thank you, thank you." He told the bus driver as he carried you on. He panted, and you would've felt bad if you weren't gritting your teeth in pain.

Running had led to jostling your leg, and every step Tommy had taken had felt like a searing hot-iron pressed to your skin. You were gripping his jacket tight, trying to get a grip on yourself. It wasn't like you could've told Tommy to slow down, otherwise you would've missed the bus.

Tommy grabbed the front seat, one that was quickly evicted by its previous taker the second they saw your leg. You tried not to let out a curse as Tommy sat down, your grip on his collar so tight that your knuckles were turning white. Instead you let out a pained noise as you buried your face into his neck, moving to grip his shoulder instead. Tommy rubbed a hand down your back, doing his best to help you rest your leg and to ease your pain. You grit your teeth when the bus started moving, already hating the ride. Softly, he said,

"In hindsight, maybe I should've grabbed the Tylenol." And you let out a pained, half-laugh. You slapped his chest lightly, telling him.

"Don't make me laugh. It hurts." And he chuckled in response. Then, his hand was brushing your thigh. Tommy had been the one to wrap the makeshift bandages around your wound. He'd used the end of his sweatshirt, and had made a makeshift crop-top of it. He checked it gently, made sure it was secure, and turned around to ask,

"Can someone pass me the first aid kit please?" And the counselor across from you went to get it. They passed it to you, and he opened it. It was full of Band-Aids and Neosporin, and the only thing helpful was the clean bandages. You watched him as he untied them, and you winced as he pulled them off. As gently as he could, he wrapped clean ones around your leg. He said, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry." Every time you even made a face. Once he was done, he brushed a hand over your face, tilting your head to look up at him. You did, glancing over his features.

Tommy was one of your oldest friends, and, well, part of you had always liked him. He was sweet, caring, kind, and maybe you spent most of the summer flirting with him. He'd proven that he was all of those things and more tonight. He'd stuck by you in the cave, carried you up the hole, and got you on the bus before it left. He cared for you in a way that made your heart skip a beat, and, as you stared up at him, you couldn't imagine how you would've gotten through this night without him.

"Y'know, when you first fell- well, I thought I lost you for a sec. It scared the hell out of me and, the entire night, all I could think about was making sure you were safe and-" And you didn't let him finish. His words were too sweet. He was too sweet. You couldn't stand it anymore and you reached up to cup his neck, pulling him in by it and pressing your lips against his. He seemed surprised for a moment, but he was quick to kiss back. He cupped your cheek, holding you close and stealing your breath away. His kiss was slow and soft, addicting in the way you could barely think about anything else. And, for a moment, you didn't feel an ounce of pain.

When you pulled back, the two of you were silent for a beat. Before Tommy softly chuckled.

"Well, if I had known running away from an axe murderer was the way to get you to kiss me, I would've-" And you cut him off again, pulling him in for another round of kisses.

[hairringtonsteve]

wrong house, right time

[joaquin torres x reader]

summary: Sometimes, life just sucks and nothing can be done. But when one (1) Joaquin Torres shows up to fix for air conditioner, your week gets just a little better.

word count: 2,262

a/n: I wasn't going to post this publicly, but @anna-phora told me to do it, so I'm accidentally stepping into MCU fic. Which like... was the eventual plan if I'm being honest. but this was written specifically for her because I'm a great friend. (edited so it's not including her name, lol)

________________________________________________

There are some weeks that are worse than others. You know this. You have accepted this It’s par for the course in life. But really – couldn’t Teacher Appreciation Week be better than the other weeks? It doesn’t even have to be by a lot. You’d take a smidge at this point. Hell, you’d take just about anything. You rested your head against the cool wood of your kitchen cabinet and sighed. On the counter, your phone chimed, signaling a text. A moment later, it chimed again.

“Better be something good,” you mumbled. You fumbled for it blindly, refusing to look for it. This week was exhausting. You weren’t going to move more than you had to for the next two days. After a few seconds, your fingertips bumped up against the edge. Unlocking it without looking, you finally cracked an eye open, pulling away from the cabinet just enough to catch a glimpse of your screen.

A second later, two more texts popped onto the screen.

You let out a snort of laughter as you read the messages. You’d almost forgot. One of your neighbors had recommended him, saying that a friend of a friend was pretty handy with fixing things, and would probably do it for a small fee. You’d hesitated at first, but thinking about how much money a handyman would be had swayed you over.

Glancing down at your dog, Darcy, you hummed softly. “If you’re extra nice, maybe he won’t charge us.”

You ran a hand over your face as you headed through the kitchen and to the front door. You hadn’t heard any knocking, so you assumed he was right in that he was at the wrong house. Opening up the door, you peered through the screen. It took a few seconds, but you spotted a guy slowly wandering down the sidewalk, eyes glued to his phone with a toolbox in his free hand. Every few seconds he would glance up, frown, and then look back to his phone. You figured that it was him, but you didn’t say anything. It was the safe thing to do, to not yell at random men from your house.

And besides, he was cute.

Your gaze slipped over him as he walked. Short hair, strong shoulders. Despite the distance, you could tell that he was handsome. A few more steps and he was one house down. Finally, you decided to put him out of his misery.

His head jerked up as he looked around, his gaze eventually settling on you. You quirked a brow at him and he held up his phone in question. You nodded, motioning for him to come inside. A grin stretched across his lips and something in your chest twisted.

Oh.

Oh no.

Oh no, he was really cute.

Very cute.

Handsome.

Shit.

You swallowed and mustered up a grin as he started up the steps. Darcy started barking, excited at the prospect of meeting literally anyone. You unlocked the screen door and took a few steps back, hooking your fingers through her collar to make sure she didn’t take a running leap at him.

“It’s open,” you called as he reached the door. Darcy barked, tugging forward in Joaquin’s direction. “Sorry about her, she’s just really friendly.”

Joaquin was already kneeling down, setting his toolbox down beside him. “It’s fine, I love dogs. You can let her go.” He paused. “If that’s okay?”

You shrug as you let her go. Darcy shot forward, leaping towards him with an excited bark. She was all over him, unable to decide whether jumping or nuzzling was the way to go. You straightened up, your heart already doing triple time at the sight.

“So,” he started, taking his eyes off of Darcy for a second to look up at you. “Your AC is acting up?”

You nodded. “I have no clue what’s going on with it, but it won’t work. Thank you so much for coming to check it out.”

“Oh, no problem at all,” he said, rubbing Darcy’s ears. Her tail wagged furiously. “Especially for a pretty girl.” Red crept up from his neck to his ears, flushing his face in a way that made him even more attractive. He ducked his head, bashful, as he focused solely on Darcy. “So what’s her name?” The sentence came out fast, like one long word.

“Oh, um, it’s Darcy.” Words were hard to form when the phrase ‘pretty girl’ was echoing around your brain.

“Like the author?” He lifted his head as he asked, a small grin tugging at the corner of his lips. “I had to read a lot of her stuff in high school. Pride and Prejudice was always my favorite.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he grinned. “You read a lot?”

You shrugged. “Well, I am a high school English teacher.”

Joaquin laughed and nodded his head. “So you read a hell of a lot, then?” His grin settled more into a smile as he -- somewhat unsubtly -- looked you up and down. A beat of silence, and then: “So, you wanna show me the unit?” He grabbed his toolbox and stood up, arching his back a little as he tried to stretch it out from being crouched down.

“Sure,” you said as you started up the stairs. It was quiet as the two of you walked.

“So when did it stop working?” Joaquin asked, breaking the silence.

“The other day. It just started to sputter a little bit and then quit after a few seconds.” You opened up the door and motioned him inside. The AC was still in the window, still mocking you as it sat in the hot, unmoving air.

“And it hasn’t started up since?”

“Nope. I’ve been dying of heatstroke since Wednesday.”

“Makes sense,” he said as he began to shrug off his jacket. The black t-shirt underneath fit him well.

A little too well, if you were being honest.

He stepped over to the unit and began to lift the window up, as though he were planning to get it out by himself when it was clearly a two-person job.

“You need help?” You asked, already moving towards him.

“I’ve got it, I’m strong,” he said, waving you away. You went to argue with him, but he was already wrapping his arms around the thing. With his attention focused on lifting the unit out of the window, you were free to watch as his muscles strained. What was a two-person job for you was easily a one-person job for him. He took his time in setting it on the ground, guiding it down gently. He pressed his lips together as he sat down on the ground and reached for his toolbox. He looked up to where you were still standing.

“Oh, did you want me to -- I can head downstairs? So I don’t bother you?” You took a step back, but paused as he shrugged.

“Or you could stay up here. I wouldn’t mind the company.”

Your stomach flipped. You stepped inside and took a seat on the ground a few feet away from him, making it a little harder for Darcy to investigate what he was doing. That was it. You were there to keep Darcy away. But as you sat there, you realized that you had no clue what to talk about? What was he into?

It was quiet for a few seconds before he asked what your favorite movie was. And suddenly, the two of you were off. Time passed quickly as you spoke, moving from favorite movies to books to exchanging family stories. You learned that he was in the military, and traveled often. You’d asked what he did, and he just shrugged his shoulders, looking from the AC unit to you, and smirked.

“Stuff.”

“Like top-secret stuff?”

“Oh yeah,” he’d said, holding the smirk for another second before laughing. The corners of his eyes crinkled when he laughed.

You liked it.

Despite it feeling as though no time at all had passed, he announced the culprit -- a bad wire -- and it seemed like once he’d figured it out, he was done. But when you glanced at the time on your phone, your eyes widened. Two hours had gone by.

You shifted your gaze over to the window as Joaquin straightened up and tried out the AC unit. It worked like a charm. He nodded and gave the unit a little pat, as though silently congratulating it for working once more.

“So how much do I owe you?” You asked as he turned to face you.

“Nothing, that was easy.”

“That was two hours, I have to give you something.”

He shook his head. “Your company was enough.”

“Come on, let me--”

“Y/N,” he said, taking a step forward. “Your company was worth it, I’m not accepting your money.” He pressed his lips together, looking as though he wanted to say something more when his phone went off. He glanced down at it and sighed. “One sec?” He asked, already swiping to answer the call. “Hey Mom, yeah I -- yeah. Yeah, yes. I can pick that up. You want me to snag one for Grandma, too? No, I just finished fixing up the AC, I -- She’s -- Mom.” You couldn’t tell what was being said, but his cheeks were starting to flush. You could hear laughter on the other end of the line. “Yeah, yeah. I’ve got to go. I’ll see you in a bit.”

You raised a brow. “Your mom?”

“Yeah, she wants me to stop by the store on my way to visit her.” He glanced from you to Darcy and sighed. “I should probably be on my way out.”

Disappointment made itself at home in your chest. “Right, yeah,” you said, heading towards the door. The two of you made your way down the stairs, Darcy following happily behind. When you reached the first floor, you went to lean against the couch. Joaquin had his hands in his jacket pockets as he made it a few steps after you. He stood there, shifting his weight awkwardly from one foot to the other.

“Thank you, seriously. I cannot thank you enough for fixing that,” you said.

He shook his head and grinned softly. “It was no problem, Y/N.” He took a few steps towards the door before turning back to look at you. “I’ll see you around?”

You returned his grin with one of your own. “You’ve got my number.”

His grin grew even wider before he turned and headed out the door. Darcy trotted over to the door after it closed, her eyes tracking his every move as he headed towards the sidewalk. You watched for another second before calling Darcy away from the door. A minute and one treat later, the two of you were cuddled up on the couch. Idly, you switched tabs from Facebook to Tumblr, trying your hardest to avoid thinking about the last couple of hours before you heard your phone go off. Thumbing into your messages, your face instantly lit up.

________________________________________________

Two months later, you found yourself walking towards a small, hole-in-the-wall bar tucked into a sidestreet. Joaquin’s hand on the small of your back as you walked, you trying not to laugh as he gave you what felt like a rundown before one of his missions.

“Just… ignore them if they try to embarrass me, okay? I’m much cooler than whatever they say.”

You laughed. “Are you, though? Are you really?”

“Hey,” he said, giving you an indignant look as he held the door open for you. You stepped inside, taking note of how warm it was inside. People crowded around tables, the low hum of voices occasionally getting louder when the television in the corner showed someone making a basket. Joaquin tapped your shoulder, nodding to the right. “I am very cool, I’ll have you know. Just last week, I –”

“Hey, Torres!” A voice called from a back booth. Joaquin sighed as he stepped in front of you and lead you towards the booth. “Weren’t you the one to say, ‘be there at seven and don’t be late, I really like this girl?’ And you’re what, thirty minutes late?”

“Thirty-two minutes late, by my count,” another voice chimes in as the two of you get closer. You’re already grinning as you note how Joaquin ducked his head.

You lean forward, just close enough so he’ll be able to hear you. “You really like this girl, huh?”

It was difficult to hear his response with his back turned to you, but you watched as his shoulders slumped and caught what sounded like a “not you too.” You tilted your head back and laughed, bright and airy, as you approached the table. Your eyes settled on the two men crowded into the booth, your laugh cutting off as recognition settled in.

He hadn’t said that they were these friends.

“Y/N, we’ve heard a lot about you. Like a lot about you.”

He’d only ever talked about work in the abstract, which made sense. It wasn’t like he could go on, telling you all the details about whatever mission he was on. But he’d spoken of coworkers and even one that had become a friend. But he’d never mentioned names, or the context of things, or…

“Honestly, the kid doesn’t shut up about you.”

Or the fact that they were literal Avengers.

Joaquin groaned. “Can you two—”

Sam Wilson settled back into his seat and grinned as he motioned for you to sit down. “I’m Sam, this is Bucky. It’s good to finally meet you.”

[laurensprentiss]

Jouska [Hotch x Reader]

Chapter 13:

Gif credit: @hqtchner

A/N: I toyed with several ideas for this one, but I wanted the reader to be strong in her own right which is why this takes the direction it does.

Warnings: Strong depictions of violence, assault, blood, vomiting. Graphic injury, choking, gun violence.

———

“What you remember saves you.” - W.S Merwin

———

“You don’t like what I’ve done with the place?” 

“Jordan.” You breathe. “What did you do?” 

His jaw sets. His expression goes from glee to fury and he’s next to you in a flash, nose to nose, dragging your head back by the hair on the nape of your neck. A wince escapes your mouth when the pulling sends a sting up your scalp. 

“What do you mean, what did I do? Isn’t it obvious?” He sneers, punctuating his words with another pull of your hair. 

You cry out in pain, your neck straining. The rabid look in his eyes and his bared teeth send shivers down your spine.

He continues, “I made sure you were going to stay all...mine.” He whispers, releasing his grip, smoothing the top of your head. “Isn’t it sweet? I did it all so I could have you all to myself… and instead of thanking me, you’re acting like you’re above me. Like you always do. Maybe I need to teach you how to be grateful-” 

“I’ll be grateful.” You offer in a quick breath. “I mean- I am. I am grateful. I was just so…” You swallow thickly, tearing your eyes away from the pictures, “Surprised that you did all this. For me.” You fight the tears pricking your eyes. 

“You mean that?” 

You swallow the bile rising in your throat. “Yes. I do.” 

“Good. Y’know all I ever wanted was us to be together? When you broke up with me, I admit, I was angry. I thought you were fucking somebody else.” He paces the length of the room and that’s when your gaze falls to the gun he has tucked into the waistband of his jeans. “But I realised you couldn’t possibly.”

You brace yourself when his gaze falls to his handiwork on the walls. 

“But then…” He inhales sharply, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I saw you with him.” His volume rises steadily. “I send you gifts, I send you letters, I give you clues, I even draw blood for you and you repay me by parading around another man?!” 

You cry out when he delivers a blow to the left side of your face, a crack resounding in the room. Your skin blisters red hot where he strikes you, you swear he’s torn open some skin on your cheek. It sends your head spinning, you figure you’re already nursing a concussion, this just makes it worse. 

“That’s not-”

“Don’t you interrupt me.” He spits, his face close enough for you to smell the bourbon on his breath. “You had him come to my house today, try to scare me? He thinks he’s a big powerful man, FBI… that badge doesn’t mean shit, he doesn’t know who I am.” 

“Jordan-”

“What was it about him anyway? You could’ve had me, you know, we could’ve been a dynasty.” He’s grandstanding. Always did have a problem with his fragile ego. He turns his back to you, scanning the pictures on the wall. “He’ll get what’s coming to him. I’m having it taken care of.” He mutters.

Your blood runs cold. “What do you mean?” 

“Oh, sweetheart. You’re not stupid, you couldn’t possible have thought that I’d let him live?” 

Your heart skips. The ‘other guy’ that was to be taken care of - Hotch.

“Jordan, no. It wasn’t like that, I swear.” He turns slowly, rage behind his eyes that’s only thinly veiled by a psychotic smile. “There’s nothing between us! Please don’t do this. I’m begging you, don’t do this.” You plead.

“Why do you care?”

“-What?”

“Why… do you… care?” His eyes are fanatical, nostrils flared. “If nothing happened between you, why do you care what happens to him?” 

You know why now.

“Because I don’t want anyone to die! Him, Emily, anybody! I don’t want anyone to get hurt.” You stutter through your sobs. “Please don’t do this.” 

“You don’t want him to die? How stupid do you think I am?” He grabs the back of your head and directs you to a picture of you and Hotch on the gazebo - the day you’d met. “You look at him like that because he’s a friend?” He spits. 

He’s right, though - that’s the thing. 

You don’t know how you didn’t realise sooner, how you didn’t see it sooner. Maybe it’s because you couldn’t see your own face when you were around him, but the way you look at him, your smile. 

You don’t think you’ve looked at anybody like that before. 

Tears roll down your cheeks now, eyes welling over. 

He smooths over your hair, straightening out his own shirt. “I will make it quick though. Humane. I owe him that much.” 

“What?” 

“I owe him. How do you think you got here?” When you can’t formulate the words he continues, “Hm, let me spell it out for you.” He continues his rapid pacing, fingers compulsively scratching his neck. “We break up, you betray me, so I leave the country. I come back, try to get you back, you betray me, again. FBI man comes into the picture, his girlfriend feels neglected, said girlfriend then conveniently runs into me at a bar after an argument, confides in me and starts sleeping with me. She’s a real peach, though. Total Type-A, wouldn’t let me fuck her raw.” He adds, rolling his eyes. 

You feel nauseous. 

You wonder if Hotch knows. 

He goes on, “I fuck her, she tells me everything I want to know. Including the fact that she thought he was cheating on her.” He laughs bitterly. “I thought we might have had something when you called me a few months ago, remember that? That was a good time.” Your stomach turns when you think back to the worst mistake you’d ever made. “But then you stopped taking my calls, I put two together from there, figured you were fucking him. I knew then that he had to die.” He rolls his eyes. 

His smile reveals a row of eerily straight teeth but there’s nothing behind his eyes except a sick kind of glee. 

“It wasn’t like that, I swear to you, he never touched me.” You plead with him, desperately. You reckon with the fact that if you couldn’t regain control of this situation, Hotch would die. “Look, I’ll do anything.” 

“Anything?” 

“I swear. Anything. Just call it off, please.” He considers your statement for a moment, kneeling down between your knees again. He makes a point to flash you his gun, the silver glinting, before reaching for a switchblade that’s tucked into his back pocket. You flinch when he brings it purposely closer to you but he cuts you free. 

“I’m going to test you. Stay here with me. You run, I kill him.” He lays the knife flat against your bruised cheek, “Then I kill you.” He whispers. You wince when the sharp edge breaks a thin layer of skin and you feel a warm trail of blood on your cheek. 

You nod desperately, agreeing. “I swear. I’ll do anything, just call it off.” 

Just as he finishes cutting you free, his phone vibrates against the wooden table under the window. He excuses himself, face lighting up for a moment. You try your best to hear, but the voice on the other end is indistinguishable. 

Jordan’s responses are short. 

“Fitz.”

“Hello?” He presses the phone closer to his ear. “Lawrence? It’s done?” He smiles at the response from the other side. 

“30 minutes.” He hangs up and rattles off a quick text message before setting the phone down again. 

He sighs, concealing his unhinged glee when he turns to look at you. “Bad news babe.” He says tutting, knowingly with a disturbing smile. “I know I said I’d call it off but,” he waves the phone in the air, “it’s already done. Your friend, Aaron?”

Oh please, no. Don’t say it. 

“He’s dead.” 

———

Once the first bang reverberates in the nurses’ station, time seems to move in slow motion. McCall yells for everybody to get down, cocking his gun. Panic erupts for a moment before everybody falls to the ground, the first shot already fired. 

Where it comes from, who fires first, it isn’t clear, the whole thing in reality is over in a matter of seconds but time still seems to stop. 

Now, McCall kneels over a dead body, hyper-aware of eyes on him, “He’s gone.” He whispers. 

A hand grips his shoulder from behind as he stares down at the corpse in front of him laying in a pool of blood, three bullet holes in the chest. 

His ears still ring. 

“Hey. Emily’s fine. I had two cops posted outside her door.” He turns to find Hotch, who can’t tear his eyes away from Officer Lawrence’s dead body in front of them. 

They’re about to let medical personnel clear out the area and wheel him away in a body bag when Hotch spots something in Lawrence’s scrub pockets. 

“Wait! Hold it a sec?” He asks, retrieving a piece of paper and cellphone from Lawrence. They make their way back to Emily’s hospital room in unison.

McCall looks at him, puzzled. “You okay?” 

“Yeah, why?”

“That was the first person you ever shot, right? He’s dead. You’re allowed to not be okay.” 

“I’m fine - I need to focus. I need to get her back.” He’d be lying if he said his hands weren’t trembling but he has more pressing matters on his hand. The need to get you back safe and sound outweighs any personal conflict for him. He unfolds the piece of paper, muttering aloud a series of numbers. “It’s a phone number. What’d you wanna bet it’s Jordan?” He does a double take when he sees his own name written in capital letters on the other side of the paper, passing it to McCall. 

“Some vendetta, hm? He was sent to kill you.” McCall takes the phone from Hotch and starts to dial when Hotch places a stalling arm on his. 

“Wait.”

He dials Garcia’s number deftly, asks her to search for a location on the number before they call it, but to his disappointment, it’s a prepaid. He then has Garcia set up a track and trace before he lets McCall dial the number.

“Ready, Garcia?” 

The phone rings three times before it’s answered, Jordan’s voice curt and straight to the point, assuming it’s Lawrence. Hotch can hear Garcia’s typing and beeping but when McCall doesn’t say anything, Jordan takes matters into his own hands. 

“It’s done?” Jordan asks outright. 

“Yes.” McCall replies with little inflection, keeping his voice even so as to not arouse suspicion. Jordan gives McCall a time - 30 minutes, before snapping the phone shut. 

McCall tries the number again, but it’s dead. Destroyed. 

“Garcia, anything?” Hotch asks desperately. 

“No, sir, it was barely long enough to triangulate the call, I’m sorry.” 

“Keep searching, Garcia, we need this address. Look for something in isolation, out of the way. It’s gotta mean something to him.”

“Yes, sir. Typing as we speak.”

Hotch rubs an exasperated hand over his beard, “Y’know the media can’t get wind of this, if he has access to a TV or radio and sees I’m alive? He’ll kill her.” He shudders as the words leave his mouth, making way for the possibility that he does not want to reckon with. 

You might already be dead. 

He dials quickly “Chief Barnes? I need a favour.”

———

He’s been pacing the length of Emily’s hospital room for the past twenty minutes, waiting for Chief Barnes to call in every favour he can to keep the media at bay so they can keep up the charade. He increases the TV volume opposite Emily’s bed when he sees a news report flash across the scene. 

“Good evening, everybody. We come to you live tonight with some breaking news.” 

He braces himself. Did Barnes manage to cover the hit on him?

“The daughters of two US Ambassadors have reportedly been involved in what appears to be a multi-car collision in the Virginia countryside, earlier tonight.” 

Two pictures appear side by side of you and Emily. 

“The daughter of Ambassador Prentiss was rushed to hospital earlier tonight and remains in critical condition at Bridgepoint Hospital after sustaining multiple injuries. The daughter of the US Ambassador to France however, is reported to be missing. The Ambassador himself is reportedly unaware of his daughter’s condition, presumed to be en-route to Paris tonight. Three people were pronounced dead at the scene, including Metro PD officers Evan Matthews and Howard Denton.”

He waits anxiously for any mention of his own name or Jordan, Lawrence, but the anchor passes over to the correspondent.

He sighs in relief, just as his phone rings. 

“Garcia?”

“I think I finally have a location on Fitzgerald. I checked for any and all properties under Senator Fitzgerald’s name, his second and third wives, his spawn’s name, even the Fitzgerald Family Trust. Nada.” She pauses for breath. “So. I dug down deeper. I searched instead for any properties under Sloan Marie Fitzgerald - still nothing. But then I chanced a search under her maiden name, Hamilton, and wouldn’t you know - the Hamilton family had a cabin between Rock Creek Park and Montgomery County. The late Mrs. Fitzgerald would take him to said cabin most summers before she died.”

“Alright, good work. Send us-”

“I'm not even going to let you finish that sentence, because it’s quite frankly insulting. Coordinates are on their way to you now, Sirs.”

Hotch huffs a laugh, it’s the most he can muster right now. He knows he owes Garcia a massive bouquet of flowers after all this is over. 

He grabs McCall by his jacket. “Suit up. We’ve got an address.” 

———

‘He’s dead.’ 

The onset of shock and unmistakable rise of nausea had caused you to retch violently and empty the contents of your stomach into the nearest toilet. 

Your legs had given out then, and you’re now planted on a dusty armchair, finding yourself staring into nothingness, your body still stinging with the shock and injuries you’d sustained. 

It’s all you’ve done for the past fourty something minutes. The blood stays rushing in your ears, and the pounding in your head is unrelenting. You haven’t said a word since, your body’s energy drained. You’re almost catatonic, unable to even shed a few tears for Hotch’s death. 

He’s dead. He’s dead because of you. 

You think back to the first time you met, he’d been so bright eyed and optimistic. Disarming. You think about the way he’d told you about his hopes and dreams, his plans for the future as a profiler. He’d had so much to live for. All of that had been ripped away from him because he’d gotten involved in your case. It was your fault he was dead. 

And you didn’t know how you were going to make it out of this. Your limbs feel like concrete - fatigue, shock and grief make it hard to formulate any kind of rational thought. Jordan’s hand comes to smooth the top of your head once again, but the gesture is far from comforting or loving. 

“It’s okay. You’ll see in time, this was for the best. This way, there aren’t any distractions.” He whispers. He’s been pacing the length of the cabin, repeatedly checking his second burner as though he’s awaiting some news. 

He resumes his pacing when you finally break your silence, your voice hoarse. 

“You killed a man.” You whisper. 

“What’s that?” 

“You killed a man.” You sob quietly. “You had someone killed, that doesn’t mean anything to you?” 

“Oh I did more than just have your little lover killed. I made sure your father and that Prentiss bitch were taken care of too.” 

Your vision tunnels, a high-pitched whine penetrating your skull. You feel like the ground has just been ripped from under you, like you’re falling. You can feel your heart shatter, the splintering fragments of your life piercing your skin. 

“My father? He’s not here. He’s-”

He glances at his watch. “-On his way to Paris?” You feel the bile rising again. “I know. Like I said, I’m having it all taken care of. They’re all dead, babe - or will be, soon.” He brings a hand to your face, brushing his thumb over your cut. “Don’t you see? I did it so I could have you all to myself.” 

The glee in his voice provokes something in you, a rage you’ve never felt before. You figure you have nothing else to lose, everything and everyone you ever loved is dead, you’d either fight and die quicker, or you’d stay and die slowly. 

In a move that stuns even you, you spit on Jordan’s face and bring your hand up to strike him notwithstanding the piercing pain in your ribs. The flat of your palm makes sharp contact with his bearded cheek. The sound echoes in the room, and your own hand stings from the force, but a minute satisfaction settles into your bones. 

He takes a minute to steady himself, but when he turns to look at you, his eyes flash with something you’ve never seen in a person before. In one fell swoop, he drags you to stand by your hair, pushing you into a glass frame against the wall. 

The glass shatters, puncturing the skin on your cheek and forearm where you bear the brunt of the impact. He lands two blows to your stomach, causing you to keel over, winding you. The pain blooms to your already bruised ribs, your breaths ragged. He grabs you then by the throat, pinning you against the wall, your breaths coming short and constricted. 

He shakes you against the wall, his hand tight around your throat, cutting off your air. “You ever pull something like that again, I’ll kill you in ways you couldn’t possibly imagine.” He growls in a low voice. “Do you understand me?” You can feel the blood pumping in your face, your eyes starting to bulge. 

You drive your knee into his crotch with all the force you can muster, exactly like Hotch had taught you. You then go for his shin that only gives you mere seconds to grab your breath when he lets you go in pain. 

You fall with him, knees giving out when you gasp for breath, and when you see him charging towards you again, you reach to your right for a dusty glass vase that sits on a single table. You manage to get yourself back on your feet right as he’s about to make contact with you again, the butt of the vase smashing into his skull. 

He cries out in pain as he falls to the ground again on all fours, blood streaming down his face. A gash on his forehead seeps blood and several pieces of glass are embedded in his face. 

You’re still trying to catch your own breath when you spot the silver glint of his 9mm catch the light in his back pocket. 

This is your chance.

You half-crawl, half-run to him, landing a violent kick to his stomach to strike him down. You grab the gun from his back pocket, stumbling a little from the adrenaline coursing through your veins, your hands trembling. You check the magazine and load it as fast as your hands will allow.

You grip the Beretta just as Hotch had taught you, wrapping your dominant hand around the magazine, your index finger parallel to the chamber. Your other hand wraps around your dominant, as you stand over him.

“Get up.” You snarl. “Get up, NOW!” You order him through your coughs. 

He turns around slowly, slipping twice on his way up, groaning with the exertion. His face mirrors your own, a gash on his lip and forehead, blood streaming down his cheek. 

He chuckles darkly, revealing a set of shark-like teeth that are covered in his blood. “Oh… you think you’re hot shit. You even know how to use that thing? Wouldn’t want you to hurt yourself.” 

Your body aches feverishly and you swear you could pass out at any minute, vision blurry. You can feel your grip loosening and you’re trying to centre yourself when Jordan takes advantage of your momentary slip. 

He lunges for you in a flash, knife in hand. 

———

“We’re about a mile out, I want sirens and lights off. He can’t know we’re coming.” Hotch says into his radio. He’s watching the road ahead as they get deeper into the woods, the off-road terrain making it hard to keep control of the SUV. 

They’re backed up at rear by three MPD police cars, Chief Fuller’s attempt at making nice with Hotch after their earlier altercation.

He swallows thickly, his mouth like cotton. He knows he can’t afford one wrong move, not here. Not with you. He needs to get you back. He made a promise to Emily. 

He’ll die trying. 

He keeps a firm grip on your chain, rubbing it one last time for steady luck before tucking it into his shirt pocket. 

A clearing of trees reveals another path to them. It leads off into the distance, to a small wooden cabin around 80 feet away. It’s illuminated by amber light emanating from a single window. 

“Alright, guys. Nice and slow, headlights off, we’re gonna dismount now. Everybody out.” He whispers into the comms once they clear another 50 feet. 

Leaves rustle underneath their feet as they stealthily approach the cabin, guns cocked. Hotch has three cops flanking him and McCall brings up the rear, covering the back exit. 

They’re almost at the entrance when a loud bang resounds from inside, and Hotch short circuits, his knuckles white around his glock. 

Inside the cabin, you send Jordan flying with a shot to his shoulder, the smell of gun smoke burning your nostrils. Your hands tremble violently, your mind temporarily blanking - you feel like you’re swimming. Your ears ring from the noise, a high-pitched whine piercing your brain. 

There’s another bang almost immediately after Jordan stumbles backwards but you’re sure you only fired one shot. 

Jordan’s body in front of you is your only focal point, so much so that it’s only when you see McCall and two cops approach him writhing on the floor that you come back into your body. 

You realise the second bang had been them kicking down the front door. Your hands on the Beretta loosen just slightly and you let out a deep exhale. The voices in the room are still swimming as your brain slowly catches up. 

“Grab her.” McCall’s voice calls out. He shouts into the comms that he needs medics, and suddenly there’s a distinct feeling of a hand on your wrist and a body next to you. You reassure yourself that Jordan is on the ground so you let your hands fall limp, dropping the gun and it falls to the ground with a sharp clack. Your eyes are still trained on McCall pressing on Jordan’s wound. 

“Hey, hey, hey. Look at me.” The voice cuts through your still-ringing ears. 

You know that voice. 

You’d know that voice anywhere. 

Your heart thunders, and your lips start to tremble as you try to reconcile everything you thought was reality with what’s really in front of you. 

You turn slowly to find an achingly familiar pair of warm hazel eyes. 

He’s alive. 

“Aaron?” You sob. You reach out for him but he catches you before you can stumble, his arms steady around your waist. He whispers into your hair, bringing a protective hand up to cradle your head as you sob into his chest. 

“It’s okay. I got you. I told you I’d come for you.” 

His voice is the last thing you hear before you black out, your body finally offering you some well-earned reprieve.

———

Tags:​ @oreogutz @andromedasstarship @galacticnerd-78 @izzyl13 @bananabucky @crying-river @purpledragonturtles @gabbysblogthingy​ @archiveofadragon​ @yoshigguk @acidicbloody @jeor @ivebeenthinkingboutu​ @bauslut @averyhotchner @vashanatasha @hotchwhore15 @pjmjams @slxtherinchxser

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[rekquiemredstar]

Victims

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x female reader

Warnings:Fluff,mention of trauma,rape(not by Bucky), torture. (No mention of rape in this chapter but will be in future ones)

Description: You discover you may have misjudged Bucky.

This is my first Chapter of an idea I’ve been wanting to play out for a while now.  More to come very soon. 

Chapter 1: Sleep

Bucky didn’t talk much. 

Especially not to you. “He wasn’t always like this.” Steve had said to you once in passing, his keen senses picking up on just how tense your shoulders got whenever Bucky had blatantly ignored you. Good old Steve, not a bad word to say about anyone. You tried to brush it off, but you really hated being ignored. It made you feel like a pathetic, over excited puppy dog nipping at everyones heels for attention. You were loud, and blunt, and very aware of how much social space you took up when you engaged in conversation. You had no doubt it was annoying. Many times you tried to curb your hyper behavior, but that was exhausting, and eventually you had to come to the conclusion that that was just you. You were who you were, and everyone-save Bucky-adored you. That was on him, you couldn’t change how he felt.

You weren’t quite sure how to approach Barnes, having only ever known him as The Asset before you all came to the compound. The first time you met, he’d lifted you off the ground with a metal hand to your throat. He would have snapped your neck if Steve hadn’t gotten him off of you. You really hated that, too. You wanted so desperately not to need saving, ever. You were strong, but you were no Super Soldier, and the overly competitive parts of you reeled against that with everything they had. You did not need to be saved. Not by Steve or anyone. 

You weren’t the only one on the team without powers. You learned from shared experience it didn’t make you any less essential. Just hurt like a son of a bitch sometimes. Like Bucky, you had been taken by Hydra against your will. Unlike Bucky-you hadn’t been brainwashed. Just tortured. No matter how hard they pushed, no matter how many times you had been left bruised and bleeding on the icy concrete floor you never lost sight of what was right.  When Hydra’s infiltration of Shield was out in the open, and they released the Winter Soldier into the world again you felt like it was the moment you had been waiting for. Suddenly everything they had taught you about weapons and hand to hand became a brutal mistake on their part. When Nick Fury learned about the things you had done, what you knew, seen you in action, he made sure you and Steve Rogers got acquainted. After that, you never had to look for a job a day in your life. Now you were here.

It wasn’t yet light out when you headed down the stairs, dressed in a black running gear from head to toe, all the way down to your shoes that were propped against the wall in waiting. Your socks were actually the only colorful thing you had on, red white and blue donning the captain America shield, an ongoing joke between you and Steve. 

You were always up before anyone else, craving the silence and peace you felt in the early morning, beginning your usual run just as the sun crested the hilltops. Your workout regimen was insanely strict, you beat yourself up whenever you ran late, often feeling guilty about it the rest of the day. Absentmindedly, you bobbed your head to the song playing in your headphones, doing your best to keep relatively quiet as you mixed up your pre-workout in a shaker bottle. You spun to set it on the counter beside you, jumping when you noticed the outline of a figure sitting across from you. 

“Jesus,” you said more to yourself than to him, lowering your headphones to around the base of your neck. You popped the cap of your bottle and rolling your shoulders. Taking your first sip of caffeine, you held his stare. 

“You scared me, man.” 

Bucky said nothing, though his eyes widened slightly- the only indication that he had heard you at all. He sat straight and rigid behind the marble countertop, but he looked…softer somehow. His lips parted slightly, exhaling a short breath, then pressed together gently. His grey henley was wrinkled and disheveled, his hands laid flat on his thighs, as though he was awaiting his next order. 

“Are you going for a run?” He asked in such a tender tone that you blinked twice before you processed that it was even him speaking. You weren’t even aware that he knew you ran. You weren’t even aware he knew you existed half the time. 

“Uh-yeah.” You responded cautiously, swirling the contents of your bottle to incorporate the undissolved powder at the bottom. Bucky gave a small nod, greasy strands of dark hair falling into his eyes as he did so. Dark circles plagued in under-eyes, while the glass blue of his irises looked dull and worn. He looked rough, even for him. You always thought he was the best looking one here, but it’s a little hard to appreciate someones looks when all they ever do is disregard you. Now that you got a really good look at him, even with the obvious sleep deprivation, you could see just how handsome he really was. 

“You go every day?” The Soldier’s next question pulled you from your drifting thoughts and you had a question of your own; why did he care? The longest conversation you had ever had with this man was the time he asked you to pass the A1 and that was a month ago. 

“Six days a week,” you started, with caffeine running through your brain you were unable to keep yourself from over-explaining. 

“Wednesdays are my rest days, It’s the only day I get to sleep in but I usually don’t. I hate taking rest days, but it’s better for your body if you do.”

 You finished your drink and set the bottle in the sink for now, you would wash it later. You were ready to abandon this weird fucking conversation. Sliding your headphones back over your ears, you pulled out your phone and started to search for a song to run to when you glanced up and noticed the look on his face. You hadn’t been through anything close to what he had, but you knew a thing or two about trauma.  You definitely knew that look from all the times you’d seen it in your reflection.

 You paused your music and took the headphones down again, setting them on the counter this time.

“Are you okay?” You asked, pressing your hips against the ledge, leaning your palms on the counter, ready to listen. The sincerity of your voice threw him off. He was so used to being on the outside looking in, watching you make your sarcastic quips to everyone, chuckling to himself when no one was looking. He was always blown away by just how clever you were, and how quick your mind worked. He didn’t think he could keep up in a conversation with you in a million years. It wasn’t often Sargent Barnes was intimidated. You were fiery, and tough, funny as hell-and you didn’t take shit from anyone. 

Bucky had heard from Steve that you had a big heart, but he had never seen the softer side of you. 

His eyes were shiny when he looked up at you, his voice echoed with defeat. 

“I don’t know how I got here.” He said quietly.

 “I don’t want to move. I-“ His voice choked a little. 

“I don’t know where I’m supposed to be.” 

You felt your heart squeeze in your chest. God, what this poor man had endured. He had been told where to go, what to do, what to say- for years he had been controlled. Now he was free, and he was confused, scared. Hydra was no walk in the park, but you get used to the routine of torment and control. You knew better than anyone what that was like.

“How long have you been down here?” You asked. He was still, then he responded. 

“A few hours, I think.” He didn’t look at the clock, just stared straight ahead. He must have gotten up in the middle of the night from a bad dream.

You sucked in a small breath through your teeth, then exhaled, letting the tension release from between your shoulder blades. 

“Okay,” You said quietly, setting your phone down and rounding the side of the counter. Your run could wait a little while. 

“Okay. That’s okay. Do you want me to help you back to you room?” Bucky shook his head. 

“I think I broke a mirror. Glass everywhere.” You nodded, making a mental note to clean it up when you got back.

Bucky’s breath hitched slightly, increasing in rhythm. “I don’t know where I’m supposed to be.” He repeated, and you slid your hand toward him on the counter, leaning on your elbow so you were face level with him. 

“Hey,” Your voice was soft, calm, even. It encouraged him to stay the same by your example. 

“It’s alright, I’m going to help you.” 

You had your mission now, heading back to the kitchen you put the tea kettle on, then opened the freezer, taking out the frozen eye mask Tony sometimes used for hangovers. You dug into the cabinet taking out two peppermint tea bags from your hidden stash, dropping one in the nearest mug, and tucking one in your sweatshirt pocket. 

You were beside him again, moving the ice pack toward his forehead. Bucky jerked backward with a quick inhale, and you drew your arm inward. You remembered his mask. “I’m just going to put it on your forehead.” You murmured. Bucky’s bottom lip quivered. “Don’t put that on me, please.” Your fingers curled, and you nodded in understanding. 

“Okay, okay, one sec.” You jogged back into the kitchen and traded the ice pack for two large chunks of ice. 

“Let’s try this instead.” 

Bucky watched you carefully, your well muscled legs flexing as you busied yourself in the kitchen. He had been distantly aware that you were in good shape, but your normal black cargo pants must have hid a lot from view, because now that he was seeing you in the leggings you wore to run-he couldn’t stop looking. God damn, you really took care of yourself. His eyes snapped back up when you turned around again. You were careful to switch the stove off before the kettle wailed, pouring hot water into the mug and sliding it in font of him. Steam swirled from the cup and the soldier caught a whiff of mint.

You were in front of him again, conscious not to make too many sudden movements. “Turn toward me.” You instructed, and he followed orders, allowing you to stand between his legs as you soothed a cube of ice over each of his temples. His eyes fluttered slightly, the frozen temperature sent a shock of relief down his spine. He couldn’t hold back the pained groan as it erupted from his chest when you moved your fingers in slow circles, applying just the right amount of pressure. 

“Y’know,” You began. “Before I was here, before any of this,  I worked at a mental facility for at-risk teenagers.”

Bucky’s brow knit. He had always assumed that with your skills with firearms and combat that you had always been in some sort of covert ops position. He was realizing just how little he knew about you. Steve talked about you sometimes, but his jaw had always been real tight when it came to your past. “Drugs, alcohol, suicide, abuse-I hated it, it was too hard on me mentally-but I learned a lot. Most importantly, I learned that when you press something cold to your temple or forehead, it sends a shock to your neurotransmitters. Basically telling your system that you’re in pain, countering panic by releasing chemicals into the body that slow down the release of cortisol and adrenaline.” 

The dark haired man soaked in every word you said . He knew you talked a lot, but you’d never talked this much to him before, and he was eating it up. Bucky had always like the sound of your voice. He didn’t even mind the melting water running down his neck, soaking into the collar of his shirt. 

 “You can also bite down on a lemon wedge. ” You offered, taking the cubes of ice away and tossing them into the sink. You pulled your sweatshirt sleeve over the heel of your hand and dabbed the water away, he leaned into your touch this time.

 “Or smell strong peppermint.” You said, gently lifting his metal arm by the wrist and snatching the packet of tea from your pocket, dropping it in his shiny palm. 

“It’s called grounding.” You stated, motioning for him to try.

Hesitantly, the soldier brought his hand to his nose, inhaling deeply. He looked back at you with one grateful nod. It helped. You pointed curtly to the cabinet by the fridge.

 “I always keep a box of tea in there, it’s shoved way in the back because someone keeps taking it, probably Sam, but you’re welcome to as much as you’d like.” You slid the now perfect temperature tea into his free hand. 

“Drink it, It always helps calm me down.” 

Bucky took two greedy gulps, downing about half it’s contents in one go and making you giggle. It made his eyelids heavy.

“C’mon, Sergeant Barnes.” You coaxed, beckoning him to follow you into the other room. When he stood, you had to take a step back. You weren’t exactly the shortest person, but even so, had always worn tactical boots around him and they added a couple inches to your height. With you just in socks, you realized how much he towered over your five foot seven stature. It both scared and excited you. You edged a foot backward, circling it behind yourself and swaying your weight on it as if you were ready for him to take a swing at you. He eyed your stance momentarily before you broke and softened again, shaking out fists you hadn’t even realized you’d clenched. You didn’t trust him yet. 

Wordlessly, you led him to the couch. His footsteps behind you were lighter than you thought they would be, but of course he had both stealth and brute force on his side. That sent a tingle down your stomach that you chose to ignore. 

“Lay down.” You said as you dragged the coffee table closer to the couch. Bucky did as he was told, his burned out mind thankful to have some sort of direction. His eyes were half lidded and languorous, the long forgotten feeling of sleep pulling at the edges of his bruised psyche. His eyes tracked your every move. His stare somewhat lazy with fatigue, but right on target like the skilled sniper you’d seen in action so many times. 

“Try to get some sleep.” Your voice was still soft, but brimmed with anticipation for your upcoming workout. Bucky felt a sudden pang of guilt for keeping you back an extra half hour. He glanced over his shoulder at the window, seeing through the gap in the shades that the sun was already up. 

“I’ll check in with you when I get back.” You added, taking a large cashmere blanket from the nearby armchair and draping it over him. He hadn’t been tucked into bed in over 70 years. 

You scampered back to the kitchen to retrieve his mug, but when you set it down on the table and looked at his face, he was already asleep. 

“Sleep well, Sergeant.” You said quietly.

Bucky’s eyes were open the minute you turned your back, watching as you pulled your shoes on and jogged out the door. He craned his neck so he could watch you take off down the neatly paved road.

It was only when you were completely out of sight that he finally let himself fall asleep. 

[obligatorynasty]

Pathways, Chapter 2: Rage Against the Self

Part: [1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] | Read on: AO3 | WC: ~4k | Please excuse any typos.

Main Tags: Mafia AU, Starker, WinterSpider, Guns, Violence, Blood and Injury, Fear, Knives, Minor Character Death, Past Rape/Non-con, Abuse, [Read all tags on AO3]

*~*~*

Mornings were rough – rougher after a night of running, shooting, and sleeping like the dead on a secondhand couch. The sun was barely up but the smell of coffee and toaster pastries wafted through the air, waking Peter up much like a beam of sun would if it weren’t so overcast outside. He sat up, stretching and yawning in tandem before standing up slow. His muscles were on fire, screaming at him for over-exerting himself the night before. He winced with each step towards the kitchen, leaning in the archway, eyes settling on his two friends, whose words were laced with laughter as they sipped coffee by the toaster. It was the kind of serenity Peter needed to soothe his jumbled mind.

“Morning Pete,” MJ spoke, moving to pour her tired friend a cup of coffee. “Do you want milk? We have almond and cow.”

Peter smiled, attempting to fix his bed head as he gave MJ a nod, “Cow is fine, thanks.”

“How’d you sleep?” Shuri asked, gesturing toward the old couch with a scrunched face. “I know that monstrosity isn’t really comfortable.”

“I slept fine, I guess,” Peter shrugged, thanking MJ for the coffee before taking a sip and sighing like he had tasted heaven. “To be honest, the nicest bed in the world wouldn’t have helped me sleep well last night.”

“Fair point,” MJ nodded, commiserating with her friend’s worries. “Most important thing is that you’ve made it to today. Focus on that for now.”

“Right,” Shuri echoed with a pointed finger. “You’re all good. No cops. No gang members. So far, everything’s looking up.”

Peter shook his head, snorting at the prospect as if he had been jinxed. “She says just before they raid the house and take Peter into custody. He’s charged with murder and gets prison for life. The end.” Peter joked, ending his dramatics with a somber smile. “That’s it. That’s my story.”

“Or–” Shuri interjected, an optimistic grin carrying her words. “—maybe your story is more heroic than that. Beck was – is – a fucking asshole. I’ve heard enough from you to know that much.” She stepped forward, placing her hand on Peter’s shoulder. “You just gave him a taste of his own medicine.”

Peter understood that. He understood that Quentin was not all sunshine, lollipops, and rainbows. At his core, Quentin was a good-for-nothing abuser. Someone who had left Peter bawling his eyes out on more than one occasion. Shooting that asshole was not the thing keeping Peter teetering on edge. What was eating away at Peter’s core was deeper than that. It was something he still could not bring himself to acknowledge, let alone tell his best friends.

“You’re right,” Peter nodded, staring into his cup of coffee and breathing a heavy sigh. “I shouldn’t be so worried. Everything will be just fi–”

Knock! Knock! Knock!

Peter dropped his mug, stunned still by the sound of someone at the door, his mind wondering if cops and gangsters knocked on the door in the same way. The hot coffee splashed against his shins but he barely felt anything. It was like his body was buffering; a reactionary delay as the ceramic shards shattered against the tile, skirting passed his feet. A tense silence fell over the kitchen as Peter looked to MJ, who looked to Shuri, who looked to Peter. A litany of flickering gazes inundated with panic – utter pain.

“I’ll get the door,” Shuri cut through the tense atmosphere with a forced calm, her lips pressed into a hard line and her arms stick-straight at her sides.  “Don’t worry, maybe it’s just my brother.”

“This early?” MJ whispered, only adding to the sweat beading on Peter’s forehead. “He said he would be here in like an hour.”

“Well, what do you want me to say?” Shuri argued beneath her breath, “Should I not answer the door? Do you want to?”

“Should I leave?” Peter mumbled as he finally came down from the shock, his eyes falling to the coffee pooling into the grout of the kitchen tile. “The mug, fuck, I'm sorry, I need to-” He bent down, picking up the shards with quaking hands.

“Forget the mug, Peter, I’ll get it,” MJ grabbed his forearm, pulling him upright. “Just,” She paused, frustration and worry boiling up from her sporadic hand gestures. “Go get your stuff, alright?" She said, pointing towards the staircase with one hand and gently patting Peter’s back with the other, trying to get him to focus. "And then go out my window, down the fire escape.”

“And go where?” Peter breathed out, running a stressed hand through his curls. “I can’t just go back to campus, what if they’re looking for me there? I don’t know what t-”

Knock! Knock! Knock!

“I’m going to open it,” Shuri exited the kitchen, walking to the door faster than Peter could register his next moves. “It’s probably just my brother-”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Peter frantically whispered, abandoning his reservations and once again, relying on instincts. He darted towards the staircase, grabbing his sneakers on the way, nearly losing his footing and practically tripping up each step. 

At the top of the stairs, he rushed into MJ’s room, pulling his blood-splattered clothes from the laundry bag. They had been washed but the blood remained in the form of light brown splotches permanently staining the fabric. In other words, Peter would have to pay MJ back for the t-shirt and sweatpants later. He balled up the clothes and tucked them under his arm, managing to simultaneously slip on his sneakers as he awkwardly hopped towards the window. And before he could even hear who entered the front door, he was on the fire escape.  

Peter was never one to believe in luck; things either went right or they didn’t. As he made his descent down the rickety black metal, it never crossed his mind that luck played any part in his recent misfortunes. However, as he slid down that final ladder, even he cursed at himself for being so fucking unlucky. Standing beneath the fire escape, at no more than an arm's length away, was someone he wished that he never had to see again. 

“You!” Said Killmonger, dropping the cigarette that had been perched between his lips as his eyes fell onto Peter, who was staring at him like a deer in headlights that knew tumbling over the hood was non-negotiable.

“Shit–!” Peter breathed out as his body started to move, like his brain had set his legs on autopilot. He was running again. This time, however, was significantly slower than the previous night. His muscles didn’t just ache, they were an inferno. Each step hit the pavement weaker than the last, even the surge of adrenaline fell short.

This chase was different; this time Peter had fear but not because Erik’s footsteps seemed much closer than Quentin’s ever were. Not because his t-shirt was being pulled backward, making him stumble and drop his guilt-stained clothes. Not because he was pulled into a headlock so tight that he swore his vision blurred with purple spots. No, this chase was different because of the reason he ran. He was not running from Erik, or Tony, per se. He was running from the rush of excitement that boiled in his gut as Erik pinned him. The glee that worked its way through his entire being at the powerful possibilities that being taken to Tony could grant. 

“Stop elbowing me, god damn-!” Erik snapped, using his free hand to stop Peter’s futile jabs. “The fuck were you comin’ out of my cousin’s house for?!”

Peter froze, halting his flailing, relagating every ounce of brain power to understanding what the fuck Erik had said. “Cousin?” He repeated, considering for a moment that maybe Erik was confused.

“Yeah, Shuri.” He wasn’t confused.

“Shuri’s your cousin!?” Peter screamed but it came out breathy from the chokehold. 

“Who the fuck is she to you?” Erik asked, his tone dripping confusion.

Peter didn’t know if answering truthfully was the correct move, but he did, hoping that a mutual connection would be enough to get him out of this mess. “She’s my friend from school.”

“Shit–!” Erik breathed out, much like Peter had earlier. “This complicates things.”

“What do you mean?”

“Sorry, kid, I’mma need you to shut up for a sec,” Erik mumbled and before Peter could respond, a sudden pain had him falling limp against the concrete. 

*~*~*

As Peter’s world came into focus, so did the pain throbbing at the back of his neck. Getting his bearings was as simple as letting his eyes squint open. He was laying across the backseat of a car, arms and legs bound with heavy duty zip tie cuffs. His first impulse was escaping – not that he had a plan – but, upon hearing voices outside of the car, he remained still and listened. 

“What do you mean he’s friends with your cousin?!” Voice one was definitely Steve. Peter wouldn’t forget that authoritative bark so soon.

“I don’t know, he came down the fucking fire escape so I just grabbed him.” Voice two was the captor himself; Killmonger. 

Steve sighed, leaning against the back door, causing the small car to shift on its axles. “Do you know if he told them anything?”

“No, I didn’t get a chance to go in there yet, man. T’Challa is blowin’ up my phone.”

“Well, I’ll see what the Boss says,” Steve spoke with a hint of frustration. “That may complicate things.”

“Exactly,” Erik quickly agreed, his tone more hostile and unsettled than it was before. “I don’t know how much he told them but y’all not touchin’ my fuckin’ family.”

“Drop the sentiments, Erik. You just figured out that you even had one of those.”

“Watch yourself, Rogers.”

“And you remember where your loyalties lie, Killmonger.”

“Ain’t nobody loyal, I work for money, not men,” Erik fired back. “And I can get that anywhere so you better stay the fuck away from my blood.”

It was quiet for a moment and Peter could only imagine the tension on their faces before Steve broke the silence. “For now, I’ll head back and I will be sure to remind the Boss that you were the one that caught the kid.”

“And you’ll say that my family don’t know shit.”

“Maybe I will,” Steve laughed, “I’ll be sure to let him know you told me what to say.”

“Nah, Steve, I don’t think you understand,” Erik threatened. “You ain’t the Boss’s favorite. Who you think he put in charge of Barnes?”

There was another pause, a long one that ended in overconfident laughter from Erik, that undoubtedly sparked from whatever face Steve was making.

“What?” Erik taunted as his laughter fizzled out. “It’s not my fault your boyfriend can’t follow orders.”

“Quiet,” Steve huffed, banging his fist against the car door. “You’ll get what you want. This conversation didn’t happen.”

“I’d expect nothing less.”

With that, Steve slid into the front seat, starting the ignition and pulling away from the curb. Peter didn’t know whether he should pretend to be asleep or make his consciousness known. He had no idea where he was. His point of reference was MJ and Shuri’s house but after being knocked out, that was gone. He couldn’t even keep up with the number of turns and the merges as they exited the city. From his vantage point, he could see the city’s tall buildings become scarce. It was infuriating.

 So after the smooth road became bumpy like gravel, Peter impatiently broke the silence. “Where are you taking me?” The question felt right in the moment, but the way the car pulled to the side of the road and slowed to a stop instantly filled him with regret.

“Oh, you’re awake,” Steve said as he exited the front door, yanking the back door open in the same motion. “Let’s fix that.”

Peter’s eyes went wide, staring up at Steve – or rather, Steve’s hands, which were gripping a small syringe that Peter wanted absolutely nothing to do with. “Wait!” He screamed, jolting upright and recoiling to the other side of the backseat, desperately trying to reach the door handle with his bound hands.

“Relax, kid,” Steve’s calm was eerie as he leaned into the car, one knee against the seats, reaching for Peter’s upper arm. “This won’t even hurt.”

“No!” Peter screamed again, giving up on the door handle and, instead, opting to fall against the door and kick out his bound ankles. As his desperate kicks connected with Steve’s torso, he yelled with each impact, “Get away from me! Get away!” 

Steve gripped his side, his furrowed brow giving away his frustration as he took a deep breath. “Guess we’re playing this game,” He muttered under his exhale as he took Peter’s calf into a vice grip and yanked his body forward. 

The sudden pull forced the air out of Peter’s lungs but, through his gasping, Peter continued to thrash, engaging every available muscle that wasn’t already spent. “Fuck you!”

Steve let out an aggravated groan, using his knee to pin the kid’s squirming legs. “You finished?” Steve leaned forward, hovering over Peter’s immobile body, posing the question with a raised brow.

Peter was panting from the adrenaline, his eyes frantically bouncing between Steve’s eyes and the syringe in his right hand. The inevitability of the situation quickly setting in and, much like before, he found himself laughing. Giggling with tears welling at the corners of his eyes and running towards his ears with every blink. “I’m scared of you,” He spoke between a few breathy laughs. “You’re so fucking scary. Fuck.”

“You’re scarier,” Steve smiled as he primed the syringe and pushed the needle into the side of Peter’s neck, watching as Peter’s laughs waned and his eyelids drooped closed. 

*~*~*

When Peter came to for the second time, his hands shot up, clutching at his temples where the throbbing was already starting to ease. His vision was blurry but with a few slow blinks, the world shifted into focus. His first sight was expected – excitingly expected, in a morbid way – the imposing presence of a powerful man that lived in his mind rent-free; the Boss himself, Tony. Who else could it have been that had him dragged here? To this modern mansion, in the middle of god-knows-where, in this windowless room with nothing but the sound of their breaths cutting through the tension.

“You’re awake,” Tony spoke, one leg tossed over the other, his arms on either rest of the throne-like chair, donned in a suit not unlike the one he wore when they first met. “I heard you were quite a handful. How are you feeling?”

Peter rolled his eyes and stood, fighting against the tilted world his dizzy brain presented to him. “How am I feeling?” He repeated, staring incredulously, all but gawking at the gall of the question. “You fucking kidnapped me!”

“I had someone kidnap you. There’s a difference.” Tony pointedly stated, flashing a grin so smug that Peter felt his blood boil.

“You threw me into the back of a car and drugged me! I was unconscious! Twice!” Peter snapped, unsure of where this fire was coming from. His mind kept screaming at him, saying that Tony was dangerous – and, of course, his mind was correct but he didn’t dwell – the seal was already broken so he would do as he pleased.

“Again, sweetheart, there’s a bit of nuance to what I specifically did,” Tony breathed a short laugh. “Besides, that has nothing to do with how you feel.”

“How I feel?!” Peter groaned, a smile of disbelief tugging on the corners of his mouth as he ran a frustrated hand through his curls. “Violated!” He yelled, stiffly gesturing with each syllable. “Infuriated! Taken against my fucking will! Pissed-!”

“I have a gift for you, sweetheart.” Tony interrupted, seemingly disregarding every word that formed in Peter’s rage. In fact, Tony didn’t even flinch. Peter was so angry that his palms felt hot and his throat was sore from all the yelling. He was exploding, but Tony just sat there with an amused smirk and a devilish calm; the power of which was akin to both the unstoppable force and the immovable object.

“Whatever it is, I don’t want it,” Peter immediately refused and, instead, he set his stride towards the door. “I want to leave.” “Can’t let you do that,” Tony stood, stepping in Peter’s path, grabbing him by the wrist and shoving him against the armchair.

“Fuck you!” Peter’s words were venomous as he shot back up, yanking his wrist free and darting towards the door. This time he managed to evade Tony’s grasp. A small victory that was swiftly quelled as he gripped the handle and realized that it was a locked door – and it was locked from the outside. 

The realization made Peter take in more of his surroundings. The room was like an underground studio apartment. It had everything – a bed, kitchen, bathroom, wall-mounted flatscreen – it was decorated in a way that made Peter’s stomach do a flip. How he always managed to get caught up on the wrong path, he didn’t know.

Peter broke into laughter – a reaction to fear that he was starting to get comfortable with the more he did it.  “How long do you plan on keeping me here?” He asked, strolling toward the fridge with the carelessness of someone confined. He flung open the fridge door, laughing harder to see it fully stocked. “That long, huh?” He slammed the fridge door before sauntering back to the chair he started in, dejectedly dropping against the cushion.

“Have you calmed down?” Tony asked as he sat back down as well, adjusting his tie as he did.

Peter took a deep breath. He was here now, he thought, no sense in burning a bridge when it seemed to be his only escape route. “Yes,” He nodded, flashing a sweet smile and bright eyes, a trick he picked up while escorting. “Thank you for the room, Tony. I really love it.”

“Wow,” Tony grinned, biting his lip and staring at Peter with a hunger in his eyes. “You really know how to turn that on and off.” 

“I was just a bit disoriented, sir,” Peter turned the charm up to eleven, desperately ignoring the twinge of excitement in his gut, trying to focus on being disgusted. After all, disgust seemed like a more appropriate reaction to his situation. “I didn’t exactly have the best experience on the way here. I’m sorry for being so angry.”

Tony tsked, crossing his arms like Peter’s discomfort meant something to him. “If I had a choice, I would’ve sent Barnes after you. He knows restraint, even when it’s against his best interests.”

“Barnes?” Peter repeated, immediately recalling the name. “Bucky, right?”

“That’s right,” Tony nodded. “He’s one of my best men. He just needed some adjusting.”

Peter understood it as a threat; a reminder that he was only alive because Bucky was suffering. “What are you doing to him?” He asked, his tone skirting somewhere between playfully and morbidly curious.

“Would you like to see?” Tony asked, pulling a phone from his pocket and beckoning Peter with his free hand.

And as Peter shortened the distance, staring at Tony’s outstretched hand, he wondered if Tony would hear his heart pounding. He wondered if, in this closeness, he would notice how hot his body burned. “Yes,” Peter answered, taking Tony’s hand with a smile and sliding into his lap. The motion was free of hesitation; purely second nature – again, he found himself thanking his previous work – letting the older man’s arm snake around his torso as they watched the phone screen.

It was a live feed from a small room; completely concrete and illuminated by a singular spotlight. It was difficult to see the details but Peter could see Bucky. He was slumped over, unmoving, tied to a chair and, from what Peter could see, he was bleeding from his hand.

“See?” Tony spoke with an uncaring tone. “He’s fine.”

“He’s not moving,” Peter shook his head and stood, mentally kicking himself for feeling that same morbid excitement.

“And that bothers you?” Tony questioned, a look of intrigue in his eyes.

Peter smiled, shrugging like it wasn’t eating away at him, “Not at all.”

“You’re so convincing,” Tony marveled, shaking his head with a grin. “Not many people can make me second guess myself.” 

Peter returned to the opposing chair, purposefully leaning back, letting the hem of his t-shirt ride up a couple of inches, letting his knees part ever-so-slightly. “Does that mean I’m special to you, sir?”

“You’re something,” Tony admitted, his eyes momentarily flickering to Peter’s exposed skin. “I’m sorry you had a bad experience coming here. It wasn’t my intention to hurt you.”

“Then why come after me?” Peter implored, tapping his fingers against his knee. “You let me go yesterday.”

“Don’t be so full of yourself, kid,” Tony gave a belittling laugh, momentarily averting his gaze. “I had more important business at the time and I knew getting you back was a given.”

Peter squinted, “You sound sure of yourself.”

“Well, either you would come willingly or you would pretend that you didn’t want to come willingly – I should’ve guessed it would be the latter – you and Erik running into each other was simply the catalyst.” Tony spoke with a confidence that poked at Peter’s sanity. “Your denial is the most crystal clear part of you, sweetheart.”

“My denial?” Peter echoed, scoffing in an attempt to save face, but silently judging himself for how weak it sounded. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Do you know how quickly a bullet leaves the chamber of a gun, Peter?” Tony posed the question like it wasn’t meant to be answered. “Most people close their eyes when a gun is fired. They cower from it, flinching as the trigger is pulled, anticipating the carnage with fear. But you—”

“What’s the point of this?” Peter hated where this was going. Everything Tony said made him want to smile.

“—you didn’t flinch.” Tony continued. “You were beaming, Peter. You were savoring it.”

And Peter suddenly remembered – or rather, he suddenly let his mind have enough real estate to recall those feelings that he wanted so badly to repress. The burning eroticism of wielding power; the cool metal of control; the reverberation of utter pleasure when shooting that gun. It terrified him to be so thrilled by it.

“I wasn’t,” Peter’s tone was even weaker that time. “You don’t know anything about me.”

“Is that right?” Tony challenged, speaking in that same sultry tone that sat at the beginning of Peter’s dangerous infatuation with him. “In time, I think you’ll find that I know everything.”

Peter felt a chill tremble down his back and a heat in his cheeks that he wished would disappear. Tony’s presence was imposing and infuriating and desirable all at once like some kind of sick joke. Why did a man like this send shivers down Peter's spine in such a dichotomous way? 

“What do you want from me, Tony?”

Tony sighed, sliding his phone back into his pocket as he stood. “Isn’t that the million dollar question?”

“What do you mean?” Peter asked, understanding exactly what Tony meant but too nervous to speak it into existence.

“You’re more intriguing than you think, Peter Parker,” Tony began. “I wanted you so I took you. I haven’t decided what I’m doing with you just yet.”

“So I’m just supposed to be a prisoner until you feel up to making a decision?” Peter breathed slow, furrowing and unfurrowing his brow, trying to maintain his composure. “You don’t want anything?”

“Not yet,” Tony admitted, “But you’re not a prisoner.”

“Tell that to the locked door and the stocked fridge,” Peter quipped, his leg restlessly bouncing as anxiety crept up his back. He really did not want to be stuck in here.

“This is only temporary,” Tony assured. “I need to know if I can trust you before letting you roam the property.” He grinned, crooked and dauntless. “I can’t have my things running away now, can I?”

Peter clenched his teeth at the notion. “Can’t you just fuck me and toss me out? I would honestly prefer if we just got it over with.”

Tony laughed, “I’m not a monster, Peter.”

“You had me fooled.”

“While you’re here, you can have anything you want,” Tony offered, adding stipulations before Peter could get a word in. “Within reason, of course. No, you cannot leave this room right now and, no, you cannot have your phone.”

“Right,” Peter nodded, smiling with disbelief. “And you’re leaving me here alone?”

“For now, yes,” Tony stepped toward Peter, reaching a hand up to cup the side of his face. “Is there anything you want before I go?”

Peter would like to think that he forced himself to lean into the touch, “Please don’t leave me here.”

Tony breathed a short laugh, “Drop the act, kid. It’s pathetic.”

“It’s survival,” Peter challenged, pulling his face away from Tony’s hand. “You wouldn’t understand because you’re on the other side of it.”

“You could be on the other side of it too, you know,” Tony placed a hand atop Peter’s shoulder. “On the side where you let yourself do whatever you want,” He hummed. “Killing that guy for instance – what was his name again? – Beck?”

“Quentin,” Peter inhaled. “Is he-?”

“Dead?” Tony offered. “No, not yet anyways. I’m saving him just for you. So whenever you accept who you truly are, he’ll be there for target practice.”

“You’re sick.”

“And you love it,” Tony grinned before turning on his heel and heading towards the door. “Now I hate to cut this short but I have some business to take care of.”

Peter paused, the reality of being alone suddenly suffocating him again. “Wait,” He called out, pulling Tony’s attention. “You said I could have anything I wanted?”

“Yes.”

“Then I want Bucky.”

*~*~*

[mindswriters]

Family Meeting - jj maybank × reader {one shot}

Summary: for the first time you decide to take your pogue boyfriend at your family's annual meeting, and let's say that your relatives didn't have the best reactions in the world.

Pairing: jj maybank × kook!reader

Warnings: language, underage drinking, mentions of hook ups?, "drunk" driving [IF YOU DRINK DON'T DRIVE]

Word count: 3.3K (is this big? idk)

A/N: hell yeah, i'm a shitty writer. Y/f/n means "your full name" btw

not my gif, credits to the owner ;)

****

Your surname is pretty infamous at the Outer Banks, your dad owns one of the biggest parts of Tannyhill, what makes you full kook. That's why you always lived in that shitty bubble wrap, you understand that living in the Figure 8 gave you privileges that you wouldn't have if you lived on the south side, and you hate the fact that everyone around you always pretend that everything is perfect when there are people to miles from there surviving from water and bread. But, as a blessing, a while ago your friend Sarah Cameron started dating John B, a Pogue guy who worked for the Cameron's, and you also started to hang out with them, and that's where your life started. At first your parents didn't liked your "new life", but they also did nothing to stop you (probably because they knew you would find a way to sneak out). You found your real crew with the Pogues, they were very receptive with you, John B is really kind and fun (way better than Topper, Sarah's ex boyfriend); Kie became your third musketeer, she's smart and is always there for you; Pope is your favorite nerd eveeer, y'all would be screwed without him. And last but not least, JJ Maybank, at first you thought he was cute, at second that he was a stubborn dumbass, and third? Oh, third you've fallen in love with him.

That's what brings you here, getting dressed for the Y/l/n's annual meeting at the Country Club, while JJ, your actual boyfriend is sitting on your bed with a messy hair and a clumsy suit. This meeting is nothing but a bullshit that your parents "require" you to go every year, you actually don't like it a lot, but today you are especially excited, you can't wait to see all your old aunts and envious cousins staring at you, when you arrive holding hands with your Pogue boyfriend. The most handsome Pogue of this island.

"Hey, J, which one is better, this one or this one?" you asked showing him your hands, each one holding a different pair of earrings.

"Hmm, this one." he pointed to your left hand with a smirk after carefully observed both the jewels.

You whispered a "thanks" and turned back to the mirror, putting the bright jewels on your ears. You were giving a last check on your marine blue dress, when you heard a knock at your half opened door.

"We're waiting for you kids." your dad tried to disguise the complain with a smirk.

"Sorry for the delay, dad, you know how long it takes for me to get ready." you pouted leaning on the door "But you and mom can go ahead, JJ and I will go with my car in a little while." you looked at your boyfriend and smiled when he waved to your father.

"You sure?" you quickly nodded "Okay then, see you there." the gray haired man sighed and went down the stairs.

"Thank you, daddy." you murmured but he definitely didn't listened.

"Can you just don't call him daddy when I'm around? It's kinda awkward." he slyly said when stood up from your bed.

You giggled rolling your eyes and walked towards him, looking up to stare his blue eyes "I never thought I would live to see JJ Maybank wearing a suit." you joked.

He just looked away and gave a shy laugh, while you delicately straightened his tie and collar. As much as you are excited, you don't see the same in JJ's expression, let's say he is not extremely comfortable in the middle of the Lion's den, as the Pogues call places with many Kooks.

"Come on babe, spit it out, what's wrong?" you ask kindly wrapping arms around his neck.

He shook his head hesitating to speak, but only with your gaze he eventually convinced himself that you wouldn't let it go unnoticed.

"Are you sure you want me to go? I mean, it's a family thing and-" he was about to vent put you stopped him.

"You are part of my family, JJ." you smiled placing a small kiss on his lips.

"Say it to your father, at this time he must be bad-mouthing me for the rest of your family." he complained snorting.

"So what?" you intertwined each other's fingers on both hands "Look, JJ, I don't care about what my father thinks and says about you, I just want to show up there holding your hand and telling everyone that you are the guy by whom I fell in love, and fuck what those idiots will think! It'll always be you." you sighed relieved after you vent all that was in your throat.

"Wow, unexpected PDA from my little girl uh?" you felt the heat blushing your cheeks, but he immediately filled your face with plenty kisses.

"I meant it, J, I meant it!" you both laughed when you tried to escape from his lips "Let's just go there and enjoy us, eat those weird foods, drink expensive drinks and if it gets too boring we can leave, okay?"

"Fine, fine, I'll go." he rolled his eyes pretending to be angry with you.

You held the boy's cheeks joining his lips lovingly and jumped up to the chair where your purse was hanging.

"I can't wait to see the faces of my envious cousins when they see me coming with the hottest guy on the Outer Banks." you sent a wink and asked him to follow you downstairs.

You drove all the way to the Country Club and when you got there you already saw all the chic decor and the other cars that were in the parking lot. JJ seemed to be nervous again, dangling his legs and biting his nails, but holding your hand before entering the party was what helped him to be calm. As soon as you took the first step, you were surrounded by the looks of everyone, some from close relatives who looked disappointed, and others from people you didn't even know were family members. Soon in the entrance hall you met your parents, talking to one of your aunts, when you were a child you gave her a loving nickname, auntie witchie.

"Hi dad, hi mom! I didn't know that half of Outer Banks was now our family." you teased kissing your parents cheeks.

"Less, Y/n." your father whispered discretely.

"Oh, Auntie Mary! How long I haven't seen you!" you greeted your aunt with an exaggerated (and false) smile.

The lady returned the smile but soon frowned as she spotted the messy blonde hair right behind you, even in a suit JJ was still clearly a Pogue.

"Let me introduce you, this is JJ, my boyfriend!" the boy politely kissed the top of your aunt's hand "I don't think you will need to worry about my relationships anymore."

You smiled confidently exchanging looks at the boy as your aunt seemed to analyze and judge every inch of him with a disgust feature. She looked at your parents and they just sighed and shrug.

"Y/n, darling, can I talk to you for a second?" you nodded in response and your aunt pulled you 2 steps to the side, which did not help from anything if she wanted a conversation reserved.

"What happened?" you asked as if you didn't knew what was coming.

"Is this boy really your boyfriend?" you nodded again, always smiling "And is he a-"

"A Pogue? Yes, he is a Pogue." you cut her even before she could finish the question "Any problem?"

"No, dear, but I mean, don't you think you should look some more? I don't know, someone here in Figure 8, with a good surname, I always thought that you would make a beautiful couple with the Cameron's prodigal son." you sighed thinking about a polite answer for the lady.

"I'm sorry, auntie, but you are completely wrong. I don't need to look anymore, JJ is definitely my lobster." you smiled leaving her confused with your words.

You turned your back politely and pulled JJ by the hand, with the intention of literally walking with him around the room and telling as many people as possible that this handsome blonde, mop headed Pogue is your boyfriend. While walking around the space you drank a few drinks, teased some people and received many, many looks of judgment. In addition to some cousins of yours commenting things like "I heard he was that crazy guy who shouted a gun at the Boneyard". But you couldn't care less, even more after some doses of alcohol.

"I need to go to the bathroom, stay here, it'll only take a sec." you gave a kiss on JJ's cheek before leaving him near the bar counter.

You were on your way back from the bathrooms when bumped into someone. It was Amber, she is your cousin, but you two didn't always get along. One time when you were 7, she threw your plush turtle in the pool and as revenge you stuck chewing gum in her hair. There was also the time when you were in 8th grade and she told your mom that you and Sarah went to Topper's house at night to drink vodka with powdered juice. Well, after that you have distanced and now when you meet by chance you pretend to like each other.

"I'm sorry!" she said with that annoying voice "Oh my God, Y/n, is that you?"

"Yes, cousin, it's me!" you smiled pretending to be excited.

"Look at you! You mean you have boobs now?" yeah, and my boyfriend loves them! okay, that's what you thought, in fact you just smirked raising eyebrows.

"Yeah, I think so. But you remain the same! Just with a little more chemical in the hair." you teased in the same mocking tone of her.

"Y/n/n, always so funny." she let a fake laugh and looked away "Damn, since when did the waiters from the Cut get so hot?"

You turned around and soon realized that she was talking about JJ, who was still leaning against the counter. As much as you were a little jealous for hearing her call your boyfriend hot right in your face, you were also proud to be able to tell her that he is already yours.

"Oh, actually he's not a waiter, he's my boyfriend." you smiled confident biting your own lip.

"Shit, don't mock me Y/n, you and that guy?" she laughed trying to disguise the wide eyes, Amber always made a point of telling that you were too ugly to get a boyfriend.

"Yep, me and that guy." from a distance JJ realized you were staring and then waved at you, who responded with your most proud smile.

"Ugh, I can't really understand what you and Sarah see in those Pogues, they're disgusting." funny to see how she changed her mind just in a few seconds.

"Let's say they're like that song."

"Song? What song?" she asked confused moving her gaze to you.

"You know, harder, better, faster, stronger, oh and add 'bigger'." you slowly said containing your laughter by biting the inside of your cheek.

She stared at you with a shooked look, and speechless. You must admit that the situation was quite satisfactory, seeing your dear cousin unresponsive on learning that you are not the ugly duckling as she always liked to say. You couldn't help but let out a little laugh, and then you excused yourself to return to your boy's arms.

"Who was that?" he asked when you leaned beside him on the counter.

"It's my cousin Amber, I hate her." he giggled and you fake smiled looking over your shoulder to see the fake blonde girl staring at you two.

"So what were you talking about?" he fixed your hair behind your ear gazing you.

"Nothing much, I was just telling her how is to be dating a 'dirty Pogue'..." you teased bending to whisper on his ear.

"Dirty Pogue, huh? And how is it like?" he frowned with a mischievous smirk.

"Well, it can be so many things, and I would risk to say that "dirty" is one of them." you smiled biting you lower lip with your eyes fixated on his blue ones.

JJ smiled back and moved his gaze to your lips, quickly kissing them and moving his wet lips to your cheeks, until reach the sweet spot behind your ear. Fuck, this is pretty good but let's say that the middle of your family meeting isn't the right place for you guys do it.

"J, stop, not right now." you giggled raising your eyebrows and softly pushing him away.

"Why not?" he pouted with puppy eyes.

"Because all my family is seeing us?" you used an obvious tone, 'cause it was obvious.

"Maybe we could sneak out?" you narrowed your eyes thinking about his proposal.

"Soon, first we'll show that people how we move on the Cut." you answered when heard one of your favorite songs playing outside.

You dragged your boyfriend by the hand until you reach the middle of the dance floor, at first he was kinda shy, but being with you makes him feel more comfortable, and as soon you both were already moving your bodies like no one was around. Laughing, drinking and kissing, you were stealing the show, this until you feel someone tap your shoulder and when you turned, you faced a man who was probably the photographer, since he held a professional camera in his hands.

"Excuse me, are you Y/n Y/l/n?" he asked politely.

"Yes, why?" you frowned holding JJ behind you.

"Oh, they're looking for you to take the annual family picture, can you follow me, please?" he pointed to the entrance hall.

"Ah sure, come on baby." you nodded bringing JJ with you.

When you reached the hall everyone of your family was there posing and waiting for you, soon you found your parents on the left side and before joining them, you stopped to straight your hair and JJ's bow tie. When you had just finished fixing his suit, your dad stopped you by your shoulders.

"Y/n, sweetie, I know JJ is important to you, but I think it's best that he doesn't appear with you in the official photos." you frowned when your dad moved his gaze to the blonde right behind you.

"Wait, what are you talking about?" you snapped with a bit angry tone.

"It's nothing personal, honey, it's just 'cause you know, you’re still young and he’s just your boyfriend, we don’t know if it will last long." your father said making you chuckle shooking your head, that's unbelievable.

"Nothing personal, right? So why can Andrew's girlfriend appear in this stupid picture and JJ cannot?" you stormed pointing to your cousin and his girlfriend already posing to the camera.

"Y/n please, don't make a scene." you dad sighed when noticed that everyone looked at you.

"Is because he's a Pogue, isn't it?" you asked with anger burning your face.

"Y/n it's okay, it's just a photo." JJ tried to calm you down and leave it, but you didn't listen.

"You see, sweetie, it's not a big deal." and you're also sick of your dad pretending that everything is perfect.

"You know what? You guys can keep with this Kook bullshit and take this fucking picture, but I will not be part of it." you said confidently causing JJ to giggle behind you and your father give you a pissed gaze.

"What the hell you think you're doing, young lady?" your dad murmured holding your arm carefully.

"I'm throwing off my chains." you stepped back confronting him.

"Y/n, darling, stop it! You're embarrassing me and your father!" your mom shout out when she noticed that you were about to leave.

"Whatever! I'm already the family’s shame!" you shouted taking a few steps back until reaching JJ, who have a proud look in his face.

"Y/f/n! Come back here! You can't do it!" Y/m/n shouted one more time.

"Yeah, but I'm already doing." with a twist on your own feet you answered back while stealing a drink from the waiter's tray that passed by.

At this time everyone is looking at you with wide eyes, your parents flushing in anger and JJ, oh JJ is paralyzed with a huge smile on his face, he's so proud of seeing his badass girlfriend facing everyone to defend him. This was something you wanted to do a long time ago, and a family meeting seemed like the perfect time for you to throw everything up in the air. And that is what you did.

"Oh, I almost forgot!" you stopped making exaggerated expressions "Auntie Mary! You should find your own husband before give hunches on my boyfriends!" you said with a soft tone pointing to your old single aunt standing a few meters from you.

"Y/d/n, you should fix your daughter!" she yelled angry.

"And Amber!" the fake blonde jumped when she heard her name "Cousin, you should try to hook up with a Pogue anytime, they're so fucking hot!" you smiled biting your tongue and looked to JJ, who let out a big laugh and soon disguised because of your father's gaze to him.

Everyone was staring at you and your parents with jaw dropping, you always showed some personality differences compared to the rest of the family, but no one ever imagined you were that bold. Okay, the drinks helped you do that, but they say that when a person gets drunk is when she shows who she really is. And this is you for real. While hearing comments like "How absurd" or "This is a shame", you poured your entire drink in a single sip and dropped the glass on the floor, hurrying to leave that shit party.

"Come on, blondie, are you with me or what?" you raised your eyebrows calling JJ to follow you. He looked at your parents and they gave a serious look to him. But he didn't care right now.

"Sorry, Mr and Mrs Y/l/n," he laughed stepping backwards "your daughter is crazy!"

He shouted shooking his head and turning around to run towards you. You both laughed and you waited for him to embrace you at the big front door, you explicit kissed and left everyone behind, running hand in hand until you reached the parking lot. Inside of your car you two waited for the laughter to lose their strength to catch your breath.

"Oh my God this was insane!" you smiled heavy breathing and looking at the blonde on your passenger seat.

"My girl is a huge badass!" he pulled you for another kiss, this time it was longer and full of proud and desire.

"Okay, your place or the Chateau?" he said breathlessly, pulling away and looking at you.

"Definitely the Chateau. And hope John B isn't home." you gave a nasty smile and started your car.

You're gonna be dead when you see your parents again, but it's fine, still worth it.

[myonechicagoworld]

CHICAGO FIRE – FIREWORKS (S01E18)

                                            [car door shuts]

Gabby Dawson: Hey, Chief. I just thought I’d… catch you before

                            shift started.

Chief Boden: You caught me.

Gabby Dawson: Uh, good morning, first of all.

Chief Boden: Morning.

Gabby Dawson: So obviously I heard what I heard last night. And I

                            guess I’m just trying to figure out what to do about

                            it now that it’s kind of out in the open.

Chief Boden: It’s not out in the open.

Gabby Dawson: Well, I mean it’s out in the open for me, because I

                            don’t know if you’re aware or not, but Pete and I

                            are dating.

Chief Boden: I’m aware.

Gabby Dawson: So you may also be aware that Pete’s become

                            increasingly convinced that people are keeping

                            secrets from him about his dad, vis à vis…

                            Are you gonna tell him what’s going on before he

                            hears it from Kelly’s dad?

Chief Boden: Benny Severide is not gonna be coming around 51

                       anymore.

Gabby Dawson: Still, Pete is gonna keep digging until he finds out.

Chief Boden: Gabby, your dogged inquisitiveness…is one of the

                       qualities that makes you such an effective paramedic.

                       But it is of no use to you in this matter, which is a

                       private one.

                       If you care about Mills like I think you do… drop it.

                       I’ll see you back at the house.

                                           cutscene

                                  [food sizzling in pan]

Benny Severide: Hey.

Kelly Severide: Morning.

Benny Severide: Morning. We got scrapple and we got eggs.

                             Grab a seat. There you go.

Kelly Severide: Thanks.

Benny Severide: So, um… Whoritsky’s offered me a teaching post,

                             and I’m-I’m thinking about doing it. Figured I

                             could come down and see you ever couple

                             weeks, hang out. What do you think?

Kelly Severide: Sounds good.

Benny Severide: Will probably have to spend one more shift at the

                             house. Kind of re-familiarise myself with a couple

                             of things. So why don’t you tell Boden I’ll be there

                             about noon.

Kelly Severide: What the hell’s going on with you and Boden?

Benny Severide: Look, Wally and me, we go way back. He and I,

                             one minute we’re at each other’s throats and-and

                             the next I’m helping to put a new deck on his

                             house, okay? This is nothing new.

                             Look, I promise you, I-I’ll be a choir boy, okay?

                             A mute choir boy.

                                                  cutscene

Chief Boden: Keep that 2 ½ on the roof line. I don’t want a flare-up

                       spreading to other buildings.

Kelly Severide: Oh, hey, sir, sir. You’re gonna want to stand back,

                           okay?

Man 1 (Owner): It’s my restaurant, are-are my employees safe?

Kelly Severide: (into radio) Hey, Casey, you got a search status?

Matt Casey: (into radio) Building’s clear, just opening up the ceiling.

                      Pop a couple of these tiles.

                                               [tiles breaking]

Kelly Severide: Building was empty, your people are out.

Man 1 (Owner): Son of a bitch said I’d pay. I never thought he’d go

                           this far.

Kelly Severide: Yeah?

Man 1 (Owner): Ten years without a grease fire. I opened four

                            restaurants in the union, suddenly he sees money.

                            I refused to sign. They send this thug!

Kelly Severide: Sounds like you’re gonna want to talk to CPD.

Man 1 (Owner): What good would that do? This guy’s not gonna

                            stop until I’m-I’m ruined or dead.

Lady 1 (Owner’s Wife): [sobbing]

Matt Casey: (into radio) Okay, Chief, we’re almost done. Send in

                      engine for the wash down.

                                            [ceiling crashing]

Firefighter: Whoa!

Joe Cruz: Casey!

                                                   - title -

Peter Mills: Lieutenant!

Joe Cruz: Mills, get out of here!

                 [grunts]

                                     [glass shattering]

Joe Cruz: [groans]

Chief Boden: Hit him with the hose!

Joe Cruz: Come on!

                                     [water spraying]

Joe Cruz: Lieutenant!

Matt Casey: [grunts] I’m okay [pants]

                      Thanks, Cruz.

                                        [water spraying]

Matt Casey: Seriously, it’s fine. It didn’t burn through my gear.

Leslie Shay: Then what’s this?

Matt Casey: Ow.

Gabby Dawson: Hold still. It’s just a first-degree burn.

                            Will you give me that bandage?

                            Couple more seconds of whatever that was that

                            dumped down on you, it wouldn’t have stopped

                            at the jacket.

Leslie Shay: [sighs] It smells like fuel.

Otis Zvonecek: That’s ‘cause it was. Homemade gasoline fire

                           bombs in the ceiling.

Lady 1 (Owner’s Wife): [sobbing]

                                                  cutscene

Matt Casey: Back door was kicked in. It’s not like whoever did it

                      was making an attempt to hide it was arson.

Man 2 (James Whoritsky): CPD said they’d back seat to my office

                                             on this one.

Kelly Severide: On that union rep who was threatened by the owner

                           of the diner?

Man 2 (James Whoritsky): Yeah, your owner, Stuart Tuxhorn, filed a

                                              complaint against a, uh, Lou Krinsky

                                              last month. We’re checking it out, but

                                              with a case like this, the evidence is 

                                              circumstantial at best.

Kelly Severide: [chuckles] Yeah.

Man 2 (James Whoritsky): Did I say something funny?

Kelly Severide: Yeah, this union guy, if he’s connected to city

                           politics, you can’t tell me that someone isn’t

                           already trying to get this buried.

Chief Boden: Look, we’re good here. Just keep us posted.

Kelly Severide: Can I talk to you a sec?

                           My old man wants to come by the house again.

Chief Boden: Kelly, I don’t think that’s a good idea.

                                            [door closes]

Kelly Severide: Whatever business you guys got, that’s your

                           business. But he said he’ll be a choir boy and

                           it’s-it’s one more shift.

Chief Boden: Here’s the deal, Kelly. I don’t know what your dad

                       has told you…

Kelly Severide: He hasn’t told me dick.

Chief Boden: Some guys when they retire and they come back

                        around the job, for some reason, they gotta tear

                        it down. I’m no psychologist, but your dad, he’s

                        always been really adept at tearing things down.

                        So that he’s the only one left standing. He has a

                        take on how Peter Mills’ father died, and it’s

                        untrue. And that would hurt Pete if that were

                        thrown in his face. I will not allow your father to

                        do it. So it would be in everybody’s best interest

                        if you were to meet your father in another house.

                        So… you can tell him. Or I could tell him.

                                               [cell phone rings]

Benny Severide: Hey.

Kelly Severide: Hey. Uh, my buddy Jason Baseden over at Squad

                          One, you remember him?

Benny Severide: Yeah, sure, I remember Jason.

Kelly Severide: Well, he heard you were in town and he was…he 

                           was…he was, like, “get your old man over here!”

                           It’s a newer house, all the latest bells and whistles

                           and I can stop by later if we don’t get a call. So…

                           so stop over there, okay? Jason’s expecting you.

Benny Severide: Yeah, sure, of course. No problem.

                                               cutscene

Gabby Dawson: Hey.

Peter Mills: Hey. Um, hey, don’t be jealous, but, uh, Dolores down

                    at the records department of the academy… I sent her

                    a gift basket of cookies and brownies, just trying to

                    butter her up to try and get information on the fire my

                     dad died in, and… it worked. She sent me over the

                     Battalion Chief’s original report. And I am starting to

                     see why Boden and Kelly’s dad don’t want to talk

                     about it. Two firefighters dying and the other

                     fire-fighter’s wife was pregnant with her first child.

Gabby Dawson: Tough to relive through, you know?

Peter Mills: Yeah.

                     Well, Dolores is still searching, she’s gonna send me

                      anything that she finds.

                                              cutscene

Joe Cruz: [growls]

                                       [dog growling]

Leslie Shay: Hey, guys, what does ‘ebullient’ mean again?

Joe Cruz: No idea.

Mouch: Bull-like. To resemble a bull.

Otis Zvonecek: Means cheerful and energetic.

Mouch: Or that.

Leslie Shay: All right, thanks.

Otis Zvonecek: Why?

Leslie Shay: One of these guys used it to describe himself.

Matt Casey: Any guy that describes himself as ebullient, you don’t

                      want his sperm.

Leslie Shay: Yeah, right. Thanks.

Mouch: How much longer you gonna be on this donor kick?

Leslie Shay: Until I find the right guy.

Mouch: And you can just look at ‘em on your computer.

Leslie Shay: Mmhmm, like I’m doing right now. Correct.

Mouch: I admire your gumption. Most other people would, you

              know, keep that behind closed doors.

Leslie Shay: Every time Cindy gets pregnant, Herrmann plasters her

                      sonogram images all over the fridge. And what? I’m

                      supposed to hide in a corner?

Mouch: I said I admire your gumption.

                                      [phone vibrates]

Leslie Shay: Well, thanks.

Matt Casey: Hey Heather.

Heather Darden: I was in the neighbourhood.

Matt Casey: Great.

Heather Darden: Hey, um, did you notice an earring in your truck?

                             I’m missing one.

Matt Casey: Uh, I didn’t see it, but I can… I can take a look.

Heather Darden: Thank you.

                              Oh and by the way, Saturday the kids are staying

                              with my parents and I was planning on having

                              dinner with one of my girlfriends, but her dad’s

                              not doing so hot so she had to fly out to

                             Jacksonville. But I’ve already got that night free

                             so I was thinking, why don’t we grab dinner?

                                            cutscene

                                         [alert beeps]

Benny Severide: (over PA) Smoke eater in the house!

Kelly Severide: God damn it!

Benny Severide: Donut man in the house!

                            Donuts, everybody! Donuts!

Firefighters: Oh, hell yeah!

                              [indistinct shouting and cheering]

Benny Severide: Come and get it!

Kelly Severide: Hey, what happened to going to Squad one?

Benny Severide: I didn’t want to.

                            Come on, you guys, let’s get a donut.

                             Hi, Wally.

                             You know, I used to bring those to the ladies

                              in arson all the time. One of them, Ruthie,

                              she didn’t have anything personal in her office.

                              I mean, nothing. Not a family photo, nothing.

                              All she had behind her desk, right in the middle

                              of her tack board was this quote, “If you can’t

                              do anything about it, don’t worry about it.” And

                              I am, like, “Man, this Ruthie is locked into some

                              higher level stuff,” right?

Chief Boden: Benny, can I talk to you real quick?

Benny Severide: Yeah, just a second. So anyway, Ruthie retires

                             and I go in to say goodbye and I look at the

                             board and the quote is still there. And I say,

                             “Hey Ruthie, you forgot your quote.” And she

                              says, “That’s not mine, that was here when I

                              moved into the office.”

                                                   [laughter]

Benny Severide: All this time I thought she was like this oracle

                            or something, you know? Anyway, I kept the

                            quote. What the hell? Couldn’t hurt.

                             Lead the way, boss.

Chief Boden: You’re not welcome here.

Benny Severide: Yeah? Is that why you have my son hustle me

                             down the road?

Chief Boden: You are not welcome here.

Benny Severide: 25 years on the job, 15 of them in this house.

                             Nobody tells me when I can come and go!

Kelly Severide: Whatever you two are trying not to bring attention

                           to, guess what? You’re bringing attention to it.

Benny Severide: We got this, Kelly.

Kelly Severide: No you don’t!

                          He wants to stay here one more shift, that’s it.

                          Can you keep your mouth shut while you’re

                          here?

Benny Severide: Who the hell are you to tell me to…

Kelly Severide: It’s a yes or no question!

                                       [knocks on door]

Matt Casey: Lou Krinsky, restaurant workers local 553 is here.

                     Looking to talk to us.

Chief Boden: We’ll be right there.

Matt Casey: Do I need to turn the hose on you guys?

Chief Boden: We’re good. We’re fine. We’ll be right out.

                        Hmph. You always had all the answers.

                        But I’m gonna tell you, this is your only shift. You

                        try and show up again for a second, I will put an

                        ass kicking on you 20 years in the making.

Benny Severide: Ooh! You still got it, Wally. I was starting to think

                             all those bugles had turned you into a big

                             marshmallow.

                             It’s the way it’s always been with me and him.

Kelly Severide: You didn’t own this house. You rented it. And I’m

                           here now, so show me some respect.

                                            cutscene

Man 3 (Lou Krinsky): Just curious why a report coming from this

                                    house has the arson department trying to

                                    finger me for burning down a restaurant.

Matt Casey: That report conveyed the owner’s statement to us,

                      that’s all.

Man 3 (Lou Krinsky): Oh, okay. Well then, I would like to make

                                     a report. Tuxhorn… rapes baby seals.

                                     Put that in the report, have him have to

                                     defend it.

Chief Boden: This is between you and the fire investigations.

Man 3 (Lou Krinsky): Yeah, and it got that far because you

                                     guys took the word of some sweatshop

                                     owner over that of a fellow union brother.

                                      Why don’t you show some courtesy, talk

                                       to me first.

Kelly Severide: We’re not talking about a busboy who got fired,

                           Lou, this is serious business.

Man 3 (Lou Krinsky): I know. I’m being accused of starting it!

Kelly Severide: We just wrote down what we saw and heard.

Man 3 (Lou Krinsky): [scoffs]

Matt Casey: Guy’s a skull cracker.

                                            [door closes]

                                               cutscene

Leslie Shay: You’re awfully quiet? Everything all right?

Gabby Dawson: All right, let’s… let’s say that if you knew

                            something… What?

Leslie Shay: Nothing.

Gabby Dawson: No, no, no. Don’t give me that. What? What

                             is it?

Leslie Shay: Um…

                      [chuckling]

Gabby Dawson: Ohh… ohh…

Mouch: Oh, goodness gracious.

Leslie Shay: I’m not here to judge you.

Mouch: [stammers] I didn’t… see, that… when… when the…

              what?

Leslie Shay: I’m not here to judge you. I just want to know how

                      it works.

Mouch: Who else knows?

Leslie Shay: No one.

Mouch: Dawson?

Leslie Shay: Just Dawson.

Mouch: Oh Shay.

Leslie Shay: Don’t worry. She’s sworn to secrecy. But, Mouch, I

                      gotta ask. Six foot? 175?

Mouch: I aged out. It was my understanding they were gonna

              take that down.

Leslie Shay: Fine. Look, I got a million questions I’m gonna ask

                      you. Can I? Please?

Mouch: [sighs] Okay, I’m ready.

Leslie Shay: Great. First off, the sperm. Did you…

                                [fire alarm buzzes and blares]

Mouch: Oh!

(Over PA): Truck 81, Ambulance 61. Restaurant fire.

                                          [sirens blaring]

                                          [horn honking]

Kelly Severide: Mr Tuxhorn.

Man 1 (Owner/Tuxhorn): I never should have told you ‘cause

                                           he’s gonna bury me now.

Kelly Severide: Stay back.

Lady 2 (Bus Driver): I’m the one who called. I was making my

                                   stop and I saw a man on fire running

                                   through the restaurant.

Chief Boden: Okay, no one goes in. Hit it from the window. Quick

                       takedown. If that driver’s right, this is gonna be a

                       recovery.

                                         [water spraying]

Matt Casey: (into radio) Cleared the dining room and bathrooms.

                      No bodies. Moving into the kitchen.

Kelly Severide: Guess I don’t need to remind you to keep your

                           eyes on the ceiling.

Matt Casey: That’s exactly what I’m doing.

Kelly Severide: Hey. It’s the same entry point as the last fire.

Matt Casey: Wherever he is, he’s long gone.

                      (into radio) This is Casey. Building’s clear.

                                         [door swings open]

Kelly Severide: Uh Casey…

Matt Casey: (into radio) We need a medic.

                                      [indistinct radio chatter]

Gabby Dawson: [grunts] Let’s turn him over.

Leslie Shay: [grunts]

Gabby Dawson: Agonal breathing. Fire may have scorched his

                            lungs.

Matt Casey: How bad?

Gabby Dawson: I don’t know. Airway looks pretty fried.

Leslie Shay: His arms are burned. Can’t get a line in. He’s got

                      minutes at best.

Gabby Dawson: We move him or lose him. Give us a hand?

Leslie Shay: On three. Very gentle. One, two, three.

Gabby Dawson: (into radio) 61 to Main, let Lakeshore know we

                             are two minutes out with a burn victim.

Leslie Shay: Dawson…

Gabby Dawson: (into radio) 61 to Main. Cancel that. Victim is

                            DOA. We will transport from scene for safety.

Dispatcher: Copy that 61… [continues indistinctively]

                                               cutscene

Man 2 (James Whoristsky): Well, we verified it. Krinsky’s alibi

                                                clears him from the second fire.

Matt Casey: Come on, he’s union muscle. He could have had

                      one of his knuckleheads torch both places.

Man 2 (James Whoristsky): I’m not arguing with that. But as

                                               of now, we don’t have actionable

                                               evidence.

Chief Boden: I got a drawer in the morgue full of evidence. I

                       don’t care if the man inside is homeless or a

                       CEO, he didn’t deserve the death he got.

Man 2 (James Whoristsky): Oh, and I think he did? Come on,

                                               give me a break.

Kelly Severide: The guy who owns these restaurants is fearing

                           for his life.

Man 2 (James Whoristsky): We need proof. Do I really need to

                                                explain arson investigation to you

                                                guys? It take a while.

Kelly Severide: Let’s go back to that second fire and look around.

Matt Casey: Yeah. All right.

Kelly Severide: Cool?

Chief Boden: Yeah. Take your dad with you.

Kelly Severide: Chief, he gave his word that he’d keep his mouth

                           shut around here…

Chief Boden: I know he’s a pain in the ass, but he’s a hell of an

                        arson investigator.

Kelly Severide: Oh yeah.

                                           [door closes]

Peter Mills: You know, I could cook you up something if you’d

                     like.

Benny Severide: Oh, that’s all right. Thanks, though.

Peter Mills: I didn’t know that you and my dad were on Squad

                    together. And um… the other firefighter who died

                    with him.

Benny Severide: That’s right. Ross McGowan. Two years on

                             the job. About your age. Had his whole life

                             ahead of him. Never got to meet his daughter.

                             A real shame.

Peter Mills: Yeah, I’m sorry to bring that up. I know it must be uh,

                     really hard to relive.

Benny Severide: Yeah. Never should have happened.

Peter Mills: How do you mean?

Benny Severide: Well, like you said. It’s hard to relive.

Peter Mills: Respectfully, Mr Severide, I get the sense that there’s

                    something you really want to tell me.

Kelly Severide: Hey. Let’s take a ride.

                                           cutscene

Leslie Shay: So, like the pamphlet says, you just…do it in a cup?

Mouch: No, uh, a…a gossamer-winged stork flies down and…

Leslie Shay: [sighs]

Mouch: Yes.

Leslie Shay: And have you had contact with any of the…

Mouch: With the kids? God, no!

Leslie Shay: Because…

Mouch: I’m Father Flanagan? No way! I treasure my privacy.

Leslie Shay: Damn. It just… seems so impersonal.

Mouch: Let me just stop you right there. My cousin Ted and his

              wife, Patty, they tried for a long time, couldn’t conceive.

              They decided to go the AI route, that’s shorthand for

              artificial…

Leslie Shay: I got it.

Mouch: Okay. So now they have a lovely daughter Elsa who is

              the light of their lives. And that family is filled with

              nothing but love, despite the clinical origins.

Leslie Shay: That’s beautiful. I…Is that why you became a donor?

                      Because of them?

Mouch: No. The cash. 125 a pop. That’s what they call a renewable

              resource.

Leslie Shay: I don’t know, man. Might have to figure something else

                      out.

                                            cutscene

                                         [door closes]

Benny Severide: So, Matt, was that Andy Darden’s widow I saw

                             you with at the academy dinner?

Matt Casey: Yeah, Heather. That was her. She just needed a ride.

Benny Severide: It’s good to see you guys haven’t turned your

                             back on her. That’s important.

Matt Casey: Yeah. Absolutely. I’ll take the back.

Kelly Severide: Both buildings were broken into from the rear

                           entry. Gas accelerants were used.

Benny Severide: Okay.

                             I don’t know about this teaching gig.

Kelly Severide: Why not?

Benny Severide: Job’s changed too much.

Kelly Severide: It’s almost exactly the same. It’s just better gear.

Benny Severide: Well, the people have changed is what I’m

                             saying. Back when I came up, you fought a

                              war at 18. You had kids by the time you were 22.

                              You’d live a life. You were a man. Now these kids

                               are coming straight out of their parents’

                               basements to the firehouse. What the hell can I

                               teach somebody like that?

Hadley: [indistinctive chatter]

Benny Severide: Like him.

Hadley: [laughs]

Kelly Severide: Who? Hadley? He’s fine.

Benny Severide: Yeah. Okay.

Kelly Severide: They still have wars. People still pop out kids. I

                           don’t know why you gotta piss on everything.

Benny Severide: Rubber. From the sole of a sneaker. That bus

                             driver was right. Somebody was on fire and

                             running through here. What was the homeless

                              guy wearing?

Kelly Severide: He had boots on.

Benny Severide: Then we’re looking for somebody else. It

                             wouldn’t be him.

Hadley: So this thing collapses and knocks us down… [laughs]

Kelly Severide: Hadley.

Hadley: Yeah?

Kelly Severide: Quit playing grab ass, would you?

Benny Severide: Look at this. You see that? Pry marks. This door

                             wasn’t breached from the outside. Somebody

                             had a key. The owner or somebody he hired.

                             They let themselves in the front door and then

                              they pried this open. Make it look like it was

                              broken in from the outside.

Kelly Severide: You gotta be kidding me.

Benny Severide: Inside job.

                                               cutscene

Chief Boden: Thank you. Appreciate it.

                       15 minutes after the second fire was call in,

                       18-year-old kid walked into an urgent care unit

                        five blocks from the scene. He had second and

                        third degree burns. Claimed it was a barbecue

                        mishap. Memorial went and picked him up.

                        He’s there’s now.

Kelly Severide: I want to head down there and check it out.

Chief Boden: Kelly…

Kelly Severide: I don’t like getting lied to. I don’t like getting

                          worked. And if someone other than that union

                          guy got that homeless man killed, I want to

                          know.

Matt Casey: I got him covered.

Chief Boden: Hit it.

                                     [door closes]

                                  [knocks on door]

Kelly Severide: What’s up, Omar? Lieutenant Severide, CFD.

Teen 1 (Omar): Oh geez. Damn barbecue. Didn’t know the gas

                          was on and boom. Lucky I’m alive.

Kelly Severide: Where were you standing?

Teen 1 (Omar): Right in front of the grill, trying to light it.

Kelly Severide: Then how’d you burn your legs?

Teen 1 (Omar): I don’t know. It was a big ol’ fireball, though.

Kelly Severide: Those aren’t barbecue burns, Omar. I’d know.

                           I’ve responded to 20 of them.

Teen 1 (Omar): I-I swear to God…

Kelly Severide: And they’re gonna test the shoes you were

                          wearing against the rubber fixed to the floor

                          in that diner and it’s all gonna go south.

Teen 1 (Omar): Why? For what? I-I didn’t do nothing.

Kelly Severide: A guy was killed in that second fire.

Teen 1 (Omar): No. No, no, no, man.

Kelly Severide: Look, I’m not a cop. I just want to know

                          what happened and I’ll help you any way I

                          can before the cops get involved. And

                          they’re gonna get involved soon.

Teen 1 (Omar): Okay. All right, mayb… there’s one thing

                          maybe you can help me with.

Kelly Severide: I’ll try.

Teen 1 (Omar): It was an insurance scam. Tuxhorn and his

                          wife wanted two of the diners to go down

                          and they was gonna lay it off on some union

                          dude who he was beefing with. And he

                          asked my dad to help him do it. My dad

                          owes him a lot of money, so he said he was

                          in to settle up. But my dad, he got a knee

                          replacement surgery last year and he ain’t

                          too quick. So I said I’d do it. I was pouring

                          the gas… I don’t know. Maybe the fumes hit

                          a pilot light or something. And I was just

                          running through the restaurant all on fire and…

                          Tuxhorn put me out and he took me here and

                          he said to say it was a barbecue accident.

                          Look, man, I’ll take the ride for it. I just gotta

                          leave my dad out of it. Can I do that? Can I

                          leave my dad out of it with the cops?

Kelly Severide: Don’t bring up his name.

Teen 1 (Omar): Okay. Thank you.

                                              cutscene

Mouch: Did somebody change his food, ‘cause there is

              something going on here.

Peter Mills: Where’s Herrmann?

Matt Casey: Bar management seminar.

                      You guys close to opening?

Gabby Dawson: Uh, a few weeks…hopefully.

Joe Cruz: Hey, uh, Shay, where’s your iPad?

Leslie Shay: Put it away for a bit.

Joe Cruz: Did you find a donor?

Leslie Shay: Regrouping.

Joe Cruz: So you’re not going the whole sperm donor route

                  anymore?

Leslie Shay: What is this, an interrogation? I told you, I’m

                      regrouping.

Otis Zvonecek: So, um, who asked who out? I’m just

                           curious.

Gabby Dawson: [laughs]

Peter Mills: Um, wait. You did, right?

Gabby Dawson: What?

Peter Mills: Yeah, you asked me to dinner that one night.

Gabby Dawson: Oh no, that-that wasn’t a date.

Peter Mills: Damn.

Gabby Dawson: What’s up?

Peter Mills: Dolores from Records, she sent me an email

                    earlier. I just… I can’t open it on my phone.

                    I’m… I’m gonna try it in there.

                                        [typing]

                                   [tense music]

                                      cutscene

Chief Boden: Hey, Kelly, great job.

Kelly Severide: Hey, thanks, Chief.

Chief Boden: You too, Benny.

Benny Severide: Thank you. I appreciate that.

                             How about I get a cup of coffee before

                             I take off?

Kelly Severide: All right.

Leslie Shay: Hey, you got a second?

Kelly Severide: Yeah.

                           What?

Leslie Shay: So how are you?

Kelly Severide: Um, what’s-what’s going on?

Leslie Shay: So here’s the deal. You know I’ve done

                      thorough research on this whole

                      insemination thing. And today I got… well,

                      I guess, uh, accidental window into how

                      the whole process works, and it really left

                      me feeling… hollow.

Kelly Severide: Okay.

Leslie Shay: And you know, I’ve been searching for the

                     perfect guy to be the father of my baby.

                     Someone honourable, strong, good looking

                     [chuckles] I mean, sue me. And maybe even

                     someone who would want to be part of the

                     child’s life. And someone who would want to

                     celebrate, you know, how beautiful it could be.

                     With me… a cool chick who’s not gonna freak

                     out and they’ll never have to worry about, you

                     know, me wanting a divorce or trying to take all

                     their money, or be a bitch or… [exhales] Kelly I

                     want to know if you’d like to have a baby with

                     me.

Kelly Severide: Look, Shay, I…

Leslie Shay: No, no, no. Let me finish. And we’d go through

                      the insemination process…

Kelly Severide: Um…

Leslie Shay: And… and yeah. Okay that’s it. I’m done.

Kelly Severide: I don’t… I don’t… I don’t know what to say.

Leslie Shay: That’s okay. I just… I just want you to-to think

                      about it.

Kelly Severide: I…

Leslie Shay: Thank you. And listen, if the answer’s no, I mean,

                      there won’t even be a hiccup between us. It…

                      it’s okay. It-It’ll be solid Always you and me.

                      Okay?

                                         [kissing sound]

Kelly Severide: Uh…

                                             cutscene

Benny Severide: Okay, that’s it. I’m outta here.

Mouch: Great to meet you, Ben.

Benny Severide: Good to see you again.

Joe Cruz: Such a pleasure.

Benny Severide: Good to see you.

Otis Zvonecek: Thanks for the donuts.

Benny Severide: Yup.

Matt Casey: Take care, Benny.

Benny Severide: Hey.

Peter Mills: Hey. Mr Severide, can I talk to you in private.

Benny Severide: Actually, I’m just taking off. It was nice

                             meeting you.

Peter Mills: Yeah, please… I really need to talk to you.

Benny Severide: Can you make it quick?

Peter Mills: Sure.

                    Um, the Lambert Tree Award. It’s the highest

                    award awarded to a firefighter. My father was

                    nominated and everyone up the line signed off

                    on it… except for you. Just curious to why.

Benny Severide: Some other time, kid, okay?

Peter Mills: Is this what you’re trying to say to me? Do you

                    feel bad about not signing off for it? That even

                    though my father was a hero… and even

                    though he gave his life…

Benny Severide: It’s an award for valor!

Chief Boden: Benny.

Benny Severide: He wants to hear it. I’m gonna tell him.

                             In the middle of that fire, your father

                             panicked and pulled off his mask, which

                             would have been his business, except

                             another guy died trying to save him. So,

                             no, I didn’t sign it. Because I could not in

                             good faith reward someone for

                             demonstrating cowardice…

Firefighters: Whoa!

                      Come on, man!

                      Hey! Hey!

                      Come on!

Benny Severide: Unh!

                             [panting] You want to know why Boden

                             thinks your father wasn’t at fault? Do ya?

                             ‘Cause he’s an optimist, I guess.

                              I’ll see you back at your house.

Chief Boden: Mills… You are off duty until further notice.

                       Get your gear. Wait for Benny to get off site,

                       and you go home and you’ll wait to hear

                       from me.

                        Rest of you, get back to work.

Gabby Dawson: Hey, you okay?

Peter Mills: No.

Gabby Dawson: Look, I totally get what lead up to that

                            and I am so sorry, but you can’t just go

                            around punching people.

Peter Mills: My dad wasn’t able to defend himself. So I did.

                                  [locker door slams]

Peter Mills: [sighs]

                                         cutscene

Chief Boden: We were all real close. Henry and me. Benny.

                        Our wives. Then Ingrid and Henry, they

                        separated. My wife left me. It was during that

                        time. It just happened. Then I realised that

                        Henry might have still had feelings for her,

                        and I may have moved too quick, so I

                        stepped back just to see. And I was right.

                        Henry moved back in after a month. Ingrid

                        always says I broke her heart. So if you

                        think that there’s something that Peter needs

                        or wants to know, I’ll go to his place after shift.

                        I’ll tell him.

Gabby Dawson: Is what Benny said true?

Chief Boden: Not from where I was standing.

                                        cutscene

Heather Darden: Matt?

Matt Casey: Hmm?

Heather Darden: You have like, two utensils in this kitchen.

Matt Casey: Yeah, it’s on my to-do list.

Heather Darden: You’ve been busy, huh?

Matt Casey: Yeah, it’s been one thing after another lately.

Heather Darden: Have you been dating? Since Hallie?

Matt Casey: Uh, there was someone for a minute, maybe

                      less. Wasn’t the right time.

Heather Darden: Sorry to hear that.

Matt Casey: What are you gonna do? Damn that smells

                      good. First home-cooked meal I’ve had

                      since… I don’t even know.

Heather Darden: It sucks having to come home to an

                             empty house, doesn’t it?

Matt Casey: Yeah.

Heather Darden: We don’t have to be alone. We don’t

                             deserve to be. We’re good people.

                             Why can’t we be happy?

Matt Casey: Heather… I’m really glad you’re here. And

                      if it was under different circumstances,

                      believe me… but Andy was one of my best

                      friends. And he was your husband, and… I

                      think we should honour that.

Heather Darden: You know what? You’re right. Let’s just

                              count our blessings

Matt Casey: Dinner and a movie. Let’s get the movie ready.

                                           cutscene

                                     [knocks on door]

Gabby Dawson: Hey, bruiser.

                                        [door shuts]

                                     [kissing sound]

Peter Mills: What’s the word? You heard anything?

Gabby Dawson: Yeah. I, um, spoke to Boden briefly.

Peter Mills: What did he say?

Gabby Dawson: Well, he hasn’t heard from Benny so

                            the hope is that he doesn’t raise a

                            stink. If that’s the case, then hopefully

                            this thing will stay in house. Boden

                            says to just sit tight for now.

Peter Mills: That’s all he said?

Gabby Dawson: That’s all he said to me.

Peter Mills: Okay, look… can I just say that even though

                    I’m… maybe in a jam right now, I feel… I feel

                    lighter. ’Cause since forever I’ve been carrying

                    around this weight of not knowing. And I could

                    always just tell that there was something out

                    there that wasn’t being told to me. At least now

                    I can… I can move on.

Gabby Dawson: Hey… what Benny said isn’t true.

Peter Mills: I don’t want to talk about it anymore, okay?

Gabby Dawson: Baby, it’s not true…

Peter Mills: Look, I-I don’t want to talk about it anymore

                    [exhales]

                                          cutscene

Matt Casey: Heather.

                          [orchestral music playing on TV]

                                       [TV turns off]

                                          cutscene

Benny Severide: He’s just like his old man. It was Henry

                             Mills against the world. The guy always

                             had a problem. So if people want to

                             knock me for being arrogant or

                             whatever, let them. At least I was

                             un-conflicted. And in this job, you

                             better damn well have that going for

                             you, or you and your buddy’s badges

                             will end up on the wall at the academy.

Kelly Severide: Well, I didn’t know his old man, but I

                           know Peter. And from what I’ve seen,

                           the kid has heart. He has courage.

Benny Severide: Yeah, well I’ve seen your squad. Maybe

                              you’re not the best judge of character.

                                              [bag zips]

Benny Severide: Look, Kelly, I…I really did come down

                             here to spend time with you. I didn’t

                             mean for any of this to happen. And if

                             anything I did reflects poorly on you,

                             I’m sorry about that. I guess your old

                             man is just a guy stuck in his ways. But

                             hey… if you can’t do anything about it,

                             don’t worry about it.

                                         [door opens and closes]

                                                   cutscene

                                             [knocks on door]

Kelly Severide: Hey.

Peter Mills: Hey.

Kelly Severide: Listen, I know it’s been on your mind

                           and, uh, I think you’d be a really great

                           addition to squad. You’re gonna want

                           to take Hazmat Tech “A”, Vertical

                           Rescue and Building Collapse One. If

                           any of them are full, you let me know I

                           can…I can pull some strings.

Peter Mills: Really?

Kelly Severide: Really. Let’s push it, see what happens.

Peter Mills: Okay.

Kelly Severide: Great.

                                         [chuckling]

                                            - end -

Definitions:

Scrapple = Also known by the Pennsylvania Dutch name Pannhaas or “pan rabbit”, is a traditionally a mush of pork scraps and trimmings combined with cornmeal and wheat flour, often buckwheat flour, and spices. The mush is formed into a semi-solid congealed load, and slices of the scrapple are then pan-fried before serving

Agonal breathing = Medical term used to describe struggling to breathe or gasping. It is often a symptom of a severe medical emergency, such as a stroke or cardiac arrest. The gasping associated with agonal respiration is not true breathing, but rather a brainstem reflex.

Hazmat Tech “A” = Hazardous Materials Technician course provides the essential knowledge, skills, and abilities to operate offensively or defensively at an incident involving the release of hazardous materials.

Building Collapse One = This course is extensively hands-on and prepares the student to operate safely and efficiently at a building collapse incident. It offers practice in cutting, breaching, lifting, stabilising, searching, shoring, packaging, and removing victims from a simulated collapse environment

[normal-person-wannabe]

Talk less, smile more (LMM/Reader)

Chapter 2

Notes:

Hey friends, i finally found the time to write this second chapter. Hope you like it. Oh, and if you want to be added in the taglist for the following chapter you only have to ask. See you soon. Stay safe. Word count: 1093 tw: swearing, mentions of sex

Your apartment's door slammed shut and you flew down the stairs like you were being chased by that one old uncle -who's not your real uncle- that every Christmas asks you if you're still single and makes unpleasant remarks about how if he were younger he'd "show you" how beautiful you are.

But risking a couple of broken bones was worth it: you did not want to be slapped by your sister, although you must admit, she knows how to make you fall into line and save yourself -and others- from your horrible time management skills. Sometimes she can scare the crap out of you, even though you know she does it for your own good.

You walk through your building gate at 6:55, thank goodness. No sign of that yellow tuna can of hers that somehow manages to resemble a vehicle. You start playing the game that you always play when you are waiting for someone: "guess the story of this bystander's life".

Like, look at that guy over there. He has a briefcase in his left hand and his phone in the right. He's walking slowly, his head lowered as if he was eaten up by guilt or shame.

Oh, he must've fucked up real hard. It could be a work thing.

Or -wait- maybe it's something more interesting, like he lost a lot of money at a casino in Vegas, perhaps even cheated on his wife with the dealer, or-

Stop, just stop. Your brain is going too fast. You're not a 3-year-old on Adderall, you're an adult, responsible, and -Oh my God!!

What if he has murdered someone and now he's regretting it!

Nope, not ok y/n, not okay. You'll behave yourself, because you're not nervous, you're not afraid that this "thing" you have with him will go south just before it really has started and you will end up hurt and shattered into tiny little pieces because you believed in it, and you poured your soul into it only to be disappointed by the harsh reality: you are not worthy of love. You're chaos. You have no chill whatsoever. For you, it's all or nothing, and-

6.58. That's weird, she's not at least three minutes early. You were starting to worry when there it was, her yellow little tuna can.

«What the hell...» you muttered, causing a puff of condensed air to pirouette out of your mouth. Three pairs of hands waved frantically at you from within the vehicle.

«Oh no, the whole gang is here...»

«Change of plans» Your sister screamed as she got out of the car «Come in for a hug, sweetheart, I missed you!»

«I missed you too,» you replied in a whisper, almost choked by the tightness of her embrace.

«Hop in, hun,» She said «we -and by we I mean me, you, Kate, and Liz- have plenty to talk about»

«We sure do» you sighed. The prospect of three women interrogating you like they were the freaking FBI's Behavioral Analysis Unit was not a good one. You'd rather spend a peaceful evening alone with your sister and a plate of linguine allo scoglio but there's no going back now.

   «Are you ready to order, mie care signore?» the waiter asked, with a big smile and a slight wink.

«Yes, we are,» your sister answered in a cheerful tone «And how are your wife and baby, Andrea? I hear he's got his mother’s beautiful green eyes.»

«Oh, he's a very well-behaved baby, if you don't take into account the part in which he doesn't let me and my wife sleep more than an hour a night. But anyway, what can I get started for you lot this evening?»

«For me a pizza caprise?» Liz replied hastily. Liz had to be always the first one to do anything, which is why she had "mommy issues" and written all over her face.

«Capreese? Sorry, I’ve not yet figured out how to pronounce it»

«It's actually Caprese, which means from Capri, ma’am. That’s also where my mother was born.» he said, with a glimpse of pride in his eyes.

«Oh, that makes sense. So a pizza Caprese and a medium brown ale.» said Liz

«A pizza Caprese and a medium brown ale for the lady» he repeated while scribbling on his notepad.

«I'll take the seafood linguine and a white wine of your choice. I trust your judgment» intervened Kate in an almost less than a whisper. She's the cutie and the shy one of the group. And the one men usually prefer since she has the face and the voice of a Cherub come straight from heaven.

«I’ll take the ravioli burro e salvia. And can we have a jug of water so we can share it?» my sister added. «Oh and bring also a hot hot tea, 'cause she has to spill some!»

It was a "wink wink nudge nudge" situation. You felt their eyes on you and their laughter, but your mind was oh-so elsewhere.

«And for you, Antonio's favorite, who’s always daydreaming and never pays attention to me? The usual?»

Kate gave you a first nudge in between your ribs, but you were far, far away, back to when your heart was beating so fast you thought it might just give up, and his cock was filling you up so completely you forgot that a world existed outside of the heaving mess you were. You'll never forget those moments of beatitude, nor the raspy groans and luscious whispers that into your ears and onto your skin felt like velvet and honey. Kate gave you another nudge, this time so hard your head bolted upwards. You looked like you were caught with your hands in a cookie jar. Your cheeks were a bright red. And you were insanely hot. And a tad bit wet.

«Hey, yes, sorry, I was... yes I’ll take the pizza fantasia, so Antonio can surprise me.»

You always ordered that, and Antonio even said to you that you’re his inspiration for new pizza flavors. He also bought a little notebook with your name on it, in which to keep track of all the pizzas he made, so as not to make you the same pizza twice. He’s been so kind to you you couldn't not invite him to your graduation. He looked even more proud of you than your actual parents were that day. You loved the man.

«Sure, he'll be pleased you came back, he was starting to worry you would go to that new place across the street»

«Oh, I could never. He's like family to me. To us. You all are.»

«Thanks, ma'am, I'll be back in a sec with your complimentary antipasti della casa,  and your drinks.» You thanked him and smiled sheepishly. You knew what was coming next and you braced yourself for the pack of wolves in front of you that now has shifted its focus from the waiter to you, ready to jump right at you and bite your ass. 

«So» They all exclaimed almost in unison.

«So» You replied, biting your bottom lip.

[betweenthepages]

Santa Tell Me; Dean Forester x Male! Reader (18+)

Requested by @winchesterzforever

Summary: For Christmas Dean dresses up in a santa costume, only it’s a lot more revealing. That, and he gifts you a vibrator. Enjoy.

Word count: 1590

A/N: Sorry if this isn’t that great, I didn’t really know how to go about this request 😭

The jingle of Christmas carols drifted in the background as you hung up the last few ornaments on the tree. You wanted everything ready for Dean since he was staying the night. You were a bit hesitant to make him travel his in the cold weather but he insisted on seeing you. You had everything planned tonight. You guys were gonna bake christmas cookies, give each other presents and watch movies all night long. His present was sitting on the dining table, wrapped in red paper with little candy canes on it. You thought long and hard about what to give him and you couldn’t wait to see his reaction.

The doorbell rang, signalling Dean was here. “Hey handsome.” You greeted. He let out a muffled ‘hi’ behind the big scarf he was wearing. You let him in quickly, not wanting him to freeze out there. “How was the trip?” You asked as he hung up his coat. “It was fine. Car almost broke down but I wasn’t gonna miss tonight.” He grinned. “Aw, I missed you.” You placed both your hands on his shoulders. “Now look up.” He was confused for a sec, but realisation set in when he gazed upwards and saw the mistletoe hanging on the door frame. “Well, isn’t that a coincidence. Come here you.” He brought you closer by the waist, pressing his cold lips against your warm ones. He felt like he could melt. He smiled into the kiss, squeezing your hips gently.

“So... Where did do you want me to put this?” He gestured to the present he was holding. “On the dining table. You should go get changed, I’ll get the ingredients ready.” You smiled, heading to the kitchen. You couldn’t contain your excitement wondering what he got you. His box was big, endless possibilities filling your mind of what it was. You’d have to be patient though. You knew you’d love anything he got you. Dean still hasn’t come out by the time everything was set and ready for baking. “Hey Dean, you ready yet?” You called, walking to the living room.

“Ho ho ho, what have we got here?” His voice startled you, and you swore on your life nothing could’ve prepared you for what you saw when you turned around. Dean standing there, almost naked accept for a pair of red latex shorts which hardly left anything for the imagination. He was shirtless, accompanied by a Santa hat. You didn’t know whether to laugh out of how completely random this situation was, or drool over his exposed muscles. “Dean I- what is this? What are you wearing?” You blushed fifty shades of red, averting your eyes to avoid getting aroused from the sight.

“You don’t like it?” He asked. “It’s not that it’s just- surprising.” He came face to face with you, so you could feel his hot breath fanning your face. “You’re on the naughty list this year. You’ve been a very very bad boy.” He whispered, nipping your ear. Fuck it, might as well play along. “What are you gonna do, punish me?” His eyes darkened, the corners of his lips curling to a smirk. “That’s right, naughty sluts need discipline. But before we get to that, I think you should open you should open your present.” Now you were confused. “B-But we agreed to do it after-” he cut you off. “Are you disobeying me? My my my, already in so much trouble and you still choosing not to follow my orders. What am I going to do with you?” He snapped. “No, sorry.” You hung your head, walking to where the presents were stacked neatly.

With shaky fingers you undid the ribbon (which Dean made a mental note to save for later) and ripped the white wrapping paper, revealing the contents inside. You swore you wanted to die right there. It was a vibrator, of all things. Roughly 8 inches. “You see this?” Dean snatched it out of your hand, “This is gonna be in you all night. I chose the prettiest one for you, aren’t you gonna show me how grateful you are? Strip.” You flushed, discarding your clothes and undergarments, leaving you bare under gaze.

He took the lube that came with the vibrator and smeared it on his fingers, ready to prep you. “I-I’m stretched already. Wanted to be prepared for you.” His eyes widened. “Needy bitch. Always gotta be stuffed huh? Can’t go a day without needing needing something inside you. I appreciate you saving me the work though.” He smirked. He smeared some more lube on the vibrator and let you hold onto him, getting ready for the intrusion. “Ahh...” Your knees buckled, almost collapsing if it weren’t for Dean holding you up. God you were every man’s wet dream. Head thrown back, eyes closed letting out the cutest whimpers. He hadn’t even turned on the vibrations yet. The show was just beginning.

He start slow at first, the room was silent except for the soft buzzing noise and your hushed moans. He picked you up placed you on the couch, pressing the remote to turn up the intensity. Your eyes closed in pleasure, unaware of what Dean was doing until he grabbed your hands, pinning them above your head. Your eyes shot open when you felt a soft material wrap around your wrists. You tugged at your restraints, realising it was silky ribbon. You hadn’t tried bondage in bed yet, but you trusted him. You writhed in pleasure, oblivious as Dean slipped a cockring on you. He grabbed the vibrator, pushing it further inside until it was right up against your prostate. “T-Too much,” tears slipped down your face. Dean watched intently, ridding himself of his shorts dragging his hand up and down his length. “D-Dean I’m close.” You mewled, back arching. Dean turned the vibrator to the highest setting, watching you tense up from the pleasure.

“Dean I’m gonna- Dean?” Your eyes opened in confusion, tears blurring your vision. The vibrations were still going, but no orgasm. You looked down, catching the piece of metal around your base. “Wha- no. I wanna cum!” You whined, sobbing in frustration. “You cum when I tell you to.” He growled. “N-No fair...” He ignored your complaints, mouthing over a nipple and tweaking the other in his hand. You looked so beautiful tied up, the best present he could ask for.

He figured he’d teased you enough, taking off the cockring and turning off the vibrator. You sighed in relief. He lubed up his cock, almost leaking at the sight of your twitching hole. “You’ve been good, sweetheart. Good enough to deserve my cock.” Your eyes lit up at that, your neediness growing. “Yes, yes! Give me your cock please.” You begged. He does as you ask him, groaning at warmth enveloping him. “How’re you still so tight-” he gritted his teeth. You whined, trying to fuck yourself on his cock impatiently.

His hips snap up into your sweet heat, stabbing your prostate over and over. Being on edge previously, you weren’t sure if you could last long. Dean was having the same problem, you felt so fucking good it was hard to hold himself back. Your nails dragged down his back, which would surely leave marks for a week or two. It hurt, but it was a good kind of pain. He liked admiring them in the morning. It was like your way of claiming him.

Slowly, you felt the knot in your stomach come undone, and white rained down on your stomach. Dean kept thrusting, chasing his own high, making you whine from the overstimulation. You sighed, feeling his warm semen being released inside of you. He pullled out carefully, undoing your restraints and pecking you on the forehead. He left momentarily to get some tissues and a plug so you wouldn’t get the couch dirty.

After you two cleaned and dressed, you sat by the fireplace, you curled up in his arms as he rubbed your shoulder lovingly. “So... am I on the good list now?” You giggled. “Definitely.” He smirked. “That was so... unexpected. It was fun, but where on earth did you get that outfit?” He the question flustered him, and he averted his eyes in embarrassment. “Um, a sex shop. Same place I got the vibrator. It was meant to be a joke but I got little too into it.” He chuckled. “A little?” You raised an eyebrow. “I liked the present though. I think I’m gonna use it a lot.” You winked. “Glad you like it, (Y/N). But that wasn’t my real gift to you.” He smiled. “There’s more?” He pulled out a little box from his pocket, placing it in your hand.

Inside was a golden heart-shaped locket, with the letter D engraved on it. “I’ve got a matching one.” He held up one that looked indentical, except it had your initials instead. “Aw Dean, that’s so sweet!” You practically pounced on him, wrapping your small frame around his big one. “Glad you like it baby.” He laughed, before turning serious. “But (Y/N), you’re the best christmas present I could ask for. I love you so much.” His voice was genuine and his eyes tender. “I love you too Dean.” You were happy. So, so happy. “We never got around to the cookies though.” You pouted. “The nights still young, babyboy. We’ve got time.” You hummed, stroking his face with your fingertips. “Later. Let’s cuddle for now.” Dean was more than happy to oblige.