#need to clear em out (i say for the millionth time…) but this time i will !!!

[tetzoro]

good morning & happy friday my dearest friendz !!! bringing you all your fave morning treats & a smooch on the forehead ! i hope today is great (ෆ˙ᵕ˙ෆ) !!!

[nathanbatemanfucker]

In Plain Sight, Ch 3: The Tempest

summary: nathan makes his intentions clear and as always…is a bit of an asshole while doing it.

pairing: nathan bateman x f!reader

contents: 18+/NSFW/MINORS DNI, enemies to lovers (sorta), boss/employee dynamics, pining, nerves, SIBLINGSSSS, mentions of care taking/sick relative, first date?? (after the fact), Nathan being A MEGA SIMPPPPPP

wc: 3,446

an: we get to meet reader’s sisters in this, both of which i love very very much! you also get a bit of reader’s background. and of course, nathan’s attempt at asking someone out. hope y’all enjoy and always thanks for reading! <3

in plain sight masterlist | part 4 | phart 5

Sleep last night was difficult…and interesting. It took you a while to fall asleep, your nerves feeling a little frazzled once you’d gotten in the car and started to think about how you were going to have dinner with Nathan. You’ve spent plenty of time alone with him, but within the boss-employee dynamic. This dinner he’s asked you to could still be that— but you wouldn’t have your usual protections. No pressing questions, no tasks, no screens to hide behind. You and him. And food. When’s the last time you shared a meal with someone other than your sisters?

Once you’d finally succumbed to sleep, your dreams were of him. It felt like nothing and everything all at once. Nathan was there. You’ve never dreamt of him before. You were in Nathan’s house— except it was clear that neither of you were working. You watched a movie together cuddling on the couch, cooked a meal, and took a walk through the forest. While the thought of that would never appeal to you in real life when you wake, there’s a peaceful feeling lingering. It’s a little unsettling.

You hop out of bed before you can allow yourself to start assigning meaning to the dream. It was simply that— a dream. A product of your nerves, and spending nearly every waking moment dedicated to learning, organizing and managing all the aspects of Nathan’s life.

You get caught up in your ungodly long morning routine. Breakfast and tea with your mom as you read from her favorite poetry book, picking your sisters’ lunches, showering. Pressing your sisters’ uniforms. Making sure your mother has everything she needs before the time gap it takes for the nurse to arrive. Writing out a to do list for when you get home and setting out your comfortable clothing. Once everything’s set you change out of your robe and into your work clothes. You’re spending too much time in front of the mirror, fidgeting and analyzing yourself. There’s no need to look perfect, it’s just Nathan. Mr. Bateman, you should call him even in your head for separation.

“You look extra pretty today,” Your youngest sister, Emma, mumbles sleepily from her place in your bed.

You smooth out your skirt for the millionth time, looking over your shoulder at her, “Yeah, you think so Em?”

She yawns, raising a fist to rub at her eye. “You did your hair all nice and you’re wearing a skirt.”

“I wear skirts all the time,” You reason with her (and maybe a little with yourself).

“Not the pretty one.”

You cross the room, leaning in to tickle her, “Hey— are you saying all my other skirts are ugly?”

Emma bursts into a fit of giggles, doing her best to twist away from you. “Stop it,” She wheezes.

“Take it back and I’ll stop,” You reason with her, unable to stop your own laughter.

“I’m sorry, I take it back,” She whines, thrashing playfully beneath you.

“You’re safe for now, little one. Do you want me to make you some oatmeal before I go?”

“Can you eat it with me?” Emma asks, hopeful.

“No, honey, I’ve got to go. But, I’ll be home early tonight. We can watch a movie, how does that sound.”

Emma’s quiet for a few moments, obviously disappointed but then she nods, and cracks a sad smile. You lean in to kiss her forehead, hugging her close.

“Go brush your teeth and I’ll make your breakfast.”

“Do you think sister wants to eat with me?”

It takes effort for you not to cringe. Of course Emma wants to spend time with her other sister, but it seems like Phil is in her fuck any and everyone phase. You’ll try to get through to her though, if not for her own sake, then for Emma’s. A 7 year old shouldn't be spending so much time alone, not when some of her family is right here.

“I’ll ask her. If not, you can go sit with momma, alright?”

“Okay.”

“Okay, little, up up. To the bathroom you go.”

You both stand, and you take her hand, dropping her off at the bathroom on your way to Phil’s room. To your surprise, the girl is already on up and on her phone when you crack the door.

She frowns, letting out a little sigh. “What?”

“Emma wants you to have breakfast with her.”

Phil rolls her eyes, not bothering to look over at you, “I’m not hungry.”

“Phillipa, you should eat. And you should always be excited to spend time with your sister.”

“She’s whiny.”

You cross the room, coming to sit beside her on the bed, “So are you.”

“Yeah and I have reason to be,” She murmurs defiantly.

“And she doesn’t?”

She grows quiet then, her thumb that had been continuously scrolling stopping in its tracks.

“Even if you don’t eat, could you just sit with her?” You ask, knowing that her shell has cracked a little.

“Fine, whatever,” She breathes.

“I’m making her a yogurt bowl. Do you want one?”

“No,” She says quickly, trying to feign uninterest. “Unless we have chocolate chips.”

“We have chocolate chips. And marshmallow fluff.”

“Then I guess I’ll have one.”

“Thank you. I’ll leave some money so you can get one of those fancy coffees from the place near your school. Will you pick a movie for us to watch today?”

“You’re coming home?”

“I should be here by 6…7 at the latest.”

“Oh. Okay,” She says, feigning disinterest.

“That’s all I get? An oh okay? Maybe I should tell Mr. Bateman I can work late.”

“No! You’re never home, c’mon don’t do that.”

“I’m excited to hang out with you too,” You say teasingly, leaning over to rest your head on her shoulder. Surprisingly, she lets you stay there.

“Can I make brownies?”

“As long as you let Emma help.”

“Of course I’ll let her help.”

“You have to be patient with her,” You remind her gently.

“I know, I know. Like you were with me,” She whispers thoughtfully. Sometimes you don’t think you give her enough credit.

“I love you Phillipa. You’re her big sister you know? I’m gone so much trying to make everything work here. She’s looking up to you. She thinks you’re the coolest person in the world.”

“You think so?”

“I know so.”

“Can I make her yogurt bowl and you make mine?”

“Sure, sweet girl. Let’s go.”

—

Nathan has never described himself as antsy. Impatient maybe, against delayed gratification sure. Antsy brings a connotation he’s not used to— nerves, a power struggle he’s on the losing side of, and lack of confidence. And while all of that feels true right now he still doesn’t want to admit it. He’s sitting at his desk, waiting for you to get in. His brow is sweaty because he’s been pacing back and forth, changing his mind about where he should be.

Eager to see you, he’d started in your office which is based in one of his many labs. It only took 10 minutes of him pacing in there to think that he was coming on too strong. It led him to the living room, but after sitting for a few minutes lounging at 6:30 in the morning when you were clocking in felt like it would be a slap in the face. He tried the patio, the kitchen, and eventually ended up back in his office.

He’d felt a little good about himself, the fact that he was thinking about this in a way that doesn’t just involve him and his desires. It was one of the reasons he’d realized what was happening to him. He’s doing his best at balancing his protective shell and showing you what he could be. What the two of you could be together.

Nathan loses his breath when you first come up on the camera, walking into your office. He’s always thought you were beautiful but today it seems like you tried to be. That could be his wishful thinking. Either way, he can’t take his eyes off you. You’re wearing a skirt he’s never seen before. A little shorter, a little pleated. It has his mind wandering off to places it shouldn’t, but it’s not like it hasn’t before. He can’t wait to get in the shower long after you left, and imagine what it would feel like to slip you out of it.

He stares…and stares…and stares until he realizes that an hour and half has gone by and he’s done nothing but give himself blue balls while watching you type away on your computer. Fuck, he’s completely at your mercy.

He pings you. Maybe that’ll make it worse, having you right in front of him like this. But, he needs to see you to scratch whatever itch this is in him today. There’s work too, a few things he needs to give to you to file away or mail out.

“Good morning, Mr. Bateman.”

He usually likes it when you call him that— especially when he’s imagining you say it while he runs his hands all over your body, all dirty and forbidden. Today is different. Something about it makes him shift uncomfortably in his seat. With dinner today, his first real shot at trying to know you as something other than his employee. As an outsider like everyone else.

“Would it kill you to call me Nathan?” He asks, raising a brow though his mouth is a little pouty.

It takes everything in you not to laugh. He looks ridiculous when he’s disgruntled. “That would be unprofessional, sir. Are those for me?”

“Yeah, they’re for you. We still on for dinner?”

The words make your stomach flip. Not because you don’t want to, but because you do. Because words like that aren’t supposed to come out of your boss’ mouth. They’re too casual, too much like the one’s men you used to swipe through on your phone said.

“Yes, I’m still able to have dinner with you, sir. Am I able to leave early?” You ask, reaching for the stack of files.

“You can leave whenever you want.”

Your mouth pulls up into a half-smile, and you nod. “Thank you, Mr. Bateman.”

Nathan leaves you be for the rest of the day. He doesn’t want to come on too strong, or be too clingy, something he’s never worried about before. He spends most of the day with the chef, yelling at him that he’s making everything all wrong— too salty or sweet or slimy or acidic— until it’s perfect. He needs it to be perfect. And once it is, he appears in the doorway of the lab your office is in, calling out to you in an uncharacteristically soft manner.

You inhale softly as you two make your way to the kitchen, the smell of familiar herbs and spices in the air. “Italian?”

“Compiled some data— this seemed like the smartest choice.”

“Compiled some data? On me?”

“I compile data on everyone. I need to learn.”

“What could you possibly have to learn about me?”

“Everything. You’re really fucking secretive.”

“I’m not secretive, I’m private,” You reason.

Nathan snorts, looking at you with an expression of disbelief, “You have to realize that those things are the same.”

“They’re not,” You counter before thinking better of it.

This is why you were quiet and avoided him as much as possible— Philippa isn’t the only one in your family with a streak of defiance. Denying authority runs in your blood, it has taken you years to quell it.

“They are if somebody’s trying to get to know you.”

“And that’s what you’re doing, Mr. Bateman? Trying to get to know me?”

He shrugs, feeling a little too unsettled— a little too nervous to reveal his intentions so early on.

“What did you learn with this data you compiled on me?”

“That you like noodle dishes of all kinds, but preferably Italian. And chocolate.”

There are two places settings sat at the corner of the table, a few bowls of various pastas, salads and breads. Dinner is surprisingly calm. He asks you simple, noninvasive questions about your past. He knows where you went to school and what past jobs you’ve had, but he asks you how you felt about them, if you made friends. He asks for your favorite movies and bands, supplying his own when you ask the same questions. It’s the most benign conversation you’ve ever had with him and it feels…good.

He surprises you when he says, “This. Again. Maybe next week?”

Your mouth goes flat with confusion, “You want to have dinner with me again, sir?”

“Nathan,” He suggests, wiping his mouth with a napkin.

You stare at him for a moment, eyes narrowing. “If this is some sort of joke, I don’t appreciate it, Nathan.”

Sweet, sweet music to his ears. Even with the attitude in your voice, Nathan drinks in every drop of his name on your tongue. In fact, he thinks the edge makes it better— it makes his blood hot. It makes him want you.

He leans closer, peering at you from over his glasses. “I’m an asshole and a clown, a shitty combination but what I’m not is an idiot, sweetheart. I wouldn’t joke about this,” His face is earnest as he speaks.

But, what does that even mean when it comes to him? You’re not completely sure. What’s worse is that you don’t know if your stomach is flipping at the idea of him telling the truth or disappointment that he may not be. The latter is what scares you most. When did you start to care about him like that?

“You— are you— you’re— you want to date me?”

Nathan bites his tongue for several seconds. He can’t say that he wants to do more than date you. He wants to consume you, to worship you, to spread you across this table and drink from between your legs until you whine and beg him for mercy. He can’t do any of that— not yet at least.

He settles for, “Yes.”

With his affirmative response, with nowhere to hide you look down at your empty plate, trying to process what’s happening. If this is true and he wants to date you, was this your first date? First dates are consensual, and while you had agreed to this dinner with him you hadn’t even been aware of your feelings at the time. Surely you couldn’t date your boss. It’s the total opposite of what you’d been trying to do— keep a low radar and be as competent and professional as possible to keep your family on the right path. You wouldn't jeopardize that for the hot, broad, bearded man sitting in front of you, even if he was looking at you with those gooey brown eyes. How long had you pretended you didn’t see him? How wide he is, how his shirts cling to his shoulders and chest, how sometimes when he comes straight to the lab after boxing his pheromones have you wanting to rut against him like an animal in heat.

You inhale a sharp breath, horrified and surprised by the thoughts racing through your head. It’s like he had unlocked a vault of vulgarities.

Finally, you look at him, apologetic, “Nathan…I can’t. I can’t do something that.”

Nathan notices right away that you didn’t deny feeling anything, and for now that’s enough. It’s an in. And if he’s not mistaken he hears a breathiness in your tone, hunger in your eyes.

“Why?”

“You’re my boss,” You say simply. It seems rather straightforward but Nathan frowns at you in confusion. For a man with such a big brain he could miss the mark sometimes. It would be endearing if it didn’t drive you a little nuts. Okay, maybe it’s both.

“What’s that gotta do with anything?”

“If it went poorly—“

“You think I would fire you over my ego?”

“Quite frankly, yes. I’ve seen how you treat people.”

“I wouldn’t do that to you,” He insists firmly. He knows it’s true, he just had to convince you.

“How would you know?”

“Because I know.”

“And if I say that’s not good enough? My entire family is dependent on me. On the money I make. I can’t and won’t put that at risk.”

Nathan scoffs, “There is no risk. I’m sure.”

“What if I’m not sure?”

“What’s that gotta do with how I feel?”

“Everything.”

“Nothing. It’s got nothing to do with how I feel, wanna know why? Because I put my ass on the line asking you here, not knowing how the fuck you feel about me. You’re the most elusive, sweet, competent…fucking arousing woman I’ve ever met. I’m spoken for.”

“Prove it,” You challenge.

This time he’s sure. He can hear how winded you sound and he knows that he’s affecting you. He wants to clear the table, crawl across and fuck you until neither of you can think. He’s getting ahead of himself.

“Prove it?”

“A trial of you showing me that all of what you said is true. We can spend more time together, but no commitments, and if it doesn’t work out I keep my job.”

“You sure? You’re gonna fall in love with me,” He warns, his grin mischievous.

“And you’re gonna have to work for it. Have you ever had to court a woman, Mr. Bateman?”

“No, sounds like I’ve got a lot of research to do. I’m a fast learner.”

“That you are.”

“Do you want to know your choices for dessert?”

“There’s choices?”

“Four.”

You grow thoughtful for a moment, before saying, “All of them. Bring me all of them.”

He can’t help the smile that spreads across his face— if he wasn’t in love with you already he is now. You allow yourself to look at him, to really look at him. And like this, his teeth white and shiny, eyes crinkled in the corners, warm brown eyes he looks sweet. Lovable. Like he could one day be yours. You won’t get your hopes up, not yet.

—

Nathan walks you to your car. It’s strange, much sweeter than you anticipating him being, but you did tell he had to work for it. You unlock the car with your remote and he gets your door. He ushers you in. He takes your hand and kisses it, his full beard tickling your skin in a way that makes your thoughts go hot and filthy.

“Drive safe for fucks sake.”

“Aren’t you a charmer?” You murmur in that soft little voice.

Nathan raises a brow at you as he leans against the car. “Are you sassing your boss?”

“No. I’m sassing the man that claims he wants to pursue me.”

“I hate to break it to you, but those are the same man, sweetheart,” He teases with a grin.

“Not if he’s gonna get it together, and prove it.”

“Touché. Let me know when you get home?”

“Keeping tabs on me already?”

“I— I always wonder,” He admits softly, and as you peer at him, you notice a soft flush in his cheeks.

He’s going to be the death of you, isn’t he? Getting all soft and sweet and flustered. You want to grab him by the collar and kiss him until his chest heaves with arousal and he cums in his pants. Instead you say: “I’ll let you know.”

“Good,” He takes a step away from the car, trying his best not to show how pleased he is with your agreement.

He feels like a walking raw nerve. You hold his future in your hands— his happiness, his sanity. It’s unhealthy and scary, how much control you have over him. But this time, he knows that the person is worthy. You’re worth any pain you could cause him, and that’s solidified by the way you grin up at him. It’s the brightest thing he’s ever seen. You looking at him like this, your saccharine smile, eyes full of mirth has his brain liquifying.

He grits his teeth at the way you’ve turned him into some Shakespearean loser. He could wax day in and day out about you. Write lines upon lines of code that would program nothing but his feelings for you. It’s stupidly perfect. He wants this with no one else. There is just you. Part of him is convinced that it’s always been you. He’s been on trajectory, making his way to you with every single decision. Fuck Bluebook. Fuck robots and their fake brains and gangly synthetic limbs. Fuck his data. Fuck all of his accomplishments. There’s just you.

“See you tomorrow, Nathan.”

nathan taglist: @missdictatorme, @hon3yboy, @runa-falls, @campingwiththecharmings, @toracainz, @steven-grants-world, @clemdango04, @jdbxws, @crispysublimecupcake, @sub-aro, @faretheeoscar, @cupidysm, @whentheskyispinkandabitblue, @nova-ivy541, @sparkypantelones, @veritable-trash, @mangoslushcrush, @thhriller, @kotaropuppy, @tenderhornynihilist

[moremaybank]

THIS LOVE — j.m

pairing actor!jj maybank x actress!reader

chapter summary jj faces the possibility of his scandal going public. then, he ends up reconnecting with you after five years. what happens when the two of you end up as costars for your upcoming romantic comedy?

warnings mentions of a sex tape, mentions of domestic abuse (jj and luke), language, violence, sexual content/eventual smut, anxiety. ex best friends to lovers, fake dating. this will be updated as the story develops. [2.2k]

author's note just a little post of the first chapter to build the hype! hope you enjoy and decide to continue reading ♡︎ also special s/o to @mvybanks and @jjsbank444 for beta reading and quelling my nerves <3

recommended listening second chances by kiana ledé ft. 6lack

this love — the complete playlist ;; the masterlist ;; the tag list

❝ CHAPTER ONE ❞

JJ

Threesomes are fun. Foursomes, however, are a blast. 

At least, JJ Maybank seems to think so. 

“You have three different women threatening to release your sex tape. It’s not a good look for you, JJ.”

Well, he does when they don’t include a secretly-filmed sex tape and three fame-thirsty girls trying to ruin his career for a quick cash grab. 

“It’s not like they’re three separate tapes. We were all together when it was made,” JJ smirks. 

Josh, his manager, lets out an exasperated sigh. “That doesn’t make things any better, and it does nothing to help our circumstances. You need to clean up your act and you need to start doing it now, Maybank, or you’re going to lose everything.”

JJ rolls his eyes for what feels like the millionth time in the fifteen minutes that this meeting has been going on. It’s bullshit, really. He’s one of the hottest actors in Hollywood right now. He’s youthful, dashingly handsome, and loaded. The world is his freakin’ oyster, and he deserves to have some fun.

“You’re supposed to keep up your whole approachable, goofy, boy-next-door image intact, and having a ménage à…quatre, is not the way to do it.” my publicist, Andrea, chimes in. “If you aren’t careful, you’re going to lose your entire fanbase. You’re one of the most universally-liked celebrities in the business, right now. If this gets out, you’re going to have to kiss your crystal clear reputation goodbye.”

“So, let’s just pay ‘em the hush money. What do I care?” JJ says, taking his cap off and running a hand through his unruly strands.

“And you’re fine with forking over ten million dollars? Just like that?” Andrea scowls. “What if they take the money and still decide to release the tape? Or demand more?”

“Then we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it, Andrea. Now, are we done here? I’m supposed to meet my co-star for my new movie in an hour and I’d really like to get in another — how did you put it? Ah, yes. Ménage á quatre — before I go.”

Josh runs a hand over his face, “Do you care about anything anymore?” 

JJ ignores his statement, putting his hat back on and sitting up in his chair. “Can I leave?”

He can tell that Josh wants to scold him or make some witty remark in return, but he bites his tongue. 

“Go. And, please, for the love of all things holy, do not screw this up.” 

If JJ had a penny for every time he’s heard that, he’d be richer than Jeff fucking Bezos.

-

Y/N

“And last but not least, this is your dressing room. You’ll have your own trailer, but this is more for when we’re actually on set and in between takes.”

You grin as you look around the luxurious room. There’s a huge vanity in front of you, as well as some plush couches, and you don’t fail to notice the large mini-fridge in the corner of the room or the flat-screen TV plastered onto the wall. There’s a window as well, letting in the California sunshine you’ve come to love and appreciate beyond your beliefs.

“Wow, this is…amazing. I can’t thank you guys enough for this opportunity. I’m so grateful, I hope you know that.”

“Don’t be silly, Y/N. You’re the very reason we wanted to do this project in the first place. If anything, we’re the lucky ones,” Derek, the director states with a grin. “So, you ready to meet your co-star, or what?”

“Yeah! I mean, I’m nervous, but, beyond excited.”

Derek leads you back into the hallway, and you make your way to one of the offices. 

“I think you’ll love him. Word is, he comes from the Outer Banks just like you. Who knows, you’ve probably met him in passing.”

Wait…what? He’s from OBX? No. No way. He couldn’t possibly mean—

“Y/N Y/L/N, meet the esteemed JJ Maybank,” Derek states, his proud smile growing sizeably larger than you thought possible. 

It doesn’t matter how excited he is, though. All you can focus on is your heart beating out of your chest and the ringing in your ears. You see Derek’s lips moving but you can’t hear a thing. Your eyes are caught on the blonde in front of you, and all you can think about is how painful it is to look into those oceanic eyes after five years.

It’s equally as painful as it was the last time you saw him. If not, more.

“Uh— Y/N, I…it’s— it’s been a while,” JJ stutters out. 

It’s all too much. Seeing him here, in front of you. His eyes locked on yours, his hand reaching out to touch you but retracting once he notices the fear in your gaze. Your eyes flit over to Derek, whose face has a more than confused look painted over his features. 

“Excuse me, Derek, I— I need to get out of here.” 

You speed into the restroom, locking the door behind you and setting your hands on the counter. Your chest tightens, and your breathing speeds up. She shudders, trying to shake it out as the room starts to feel like it’s closing in on you.

“You’re okay. You’re okay. You can do this. Don’t let him get to you,” you say, staring at yourself in the mirror. “It’s just…it’s just JJ.”

You feel the tears start to well in your eyes and you watch as they overtake their boundaries and roll down your flushed cheeks. You’re quick to wipe them away, though, refusing to admit defeat. 

“Stop,” you tell yourself. “It’s been five years. You’re better than this.”

You aren’t sure if the words are true to your heart, because all you can think about is how the boy you loved from the ages seven to eighteen — the one who betrayed you and shattered you into a million pieces — is now your co-star for the romantic comedy you’ve just been cast in.

What could possibly go wrong?

A lot, you think. A lot could go wrong. 

JJ

JJ watches as you make your way back into Derek’s office, shooting him a convincing smile.

“My apologies, Derek. Girl troubles,” you say. 

JJ still knows you well enough to see that you’re hoping Derek will believe your bullshit excuse. 

“Oh, uh, no worries at all, Y/N. I completely understand. I’ve got three daughters at home,” he speaks, trying to assure you that everything is fine. He places this hand on JJ’s shoulder, squeezing slightly. “JJ, here, was just telling me how the two of you have known each other since you were in elementary school. It must be quite the hell of a reunion, huh?”

You plaster a fake grin onto your lips, “One hell of a reunion, indeed.”

JJ refuses to look at you, his ex-best friend, and vice-versa. Truthfully, he’s terrified to catch your eye again. He’s not sure if he’ll be able to form a coherent sentence if he does. 

“Well, I’ve got some stuff to take care of, so I’ll leave you two to catch up.”

Derek exits his office, and you and JJ are left in complete and utter silence.

God, JJ missed you so much. He’d seen you making headlines just as you always said you would, but he was always quick to click away, deciding not to dwell on everything he’d lost. But this, now, seeing you right in front of him as gorgeous as ever…it made the walls he’d worked so hard to put up begin to crack. 

Then again, you’d always had that effect on him. 

Even after all these years, he was still a complete wreck over you. You held his heart in the palm of your hand and he wasn’t even sure if you knew it.

Your scent was still etched into his mind, still buzzing deep within his senses and his memory. You smelled of the saltwater beaches of the Outer Banks. The notes of coconut from the shampoo he’d recognized still lingering in the tresses of your hair. The sweet hints of vanilla that clutched to your skin are prominent as ever. The combination sounds like a lot, and it was, but not in the overpowering way one would assume. They blended into one heavenly and unique fragrance. 

She smelled like her, he thought. She smelled like home. 

To be honest, JJ wasn’t sure whether or not this was a reminder he wanted to welcome with open arms, but either way, here it was. Here you were. After the way he’d hurt you and destroyed your relationship forever. 

After he lost himself. 

Funnily enough, you’d always had a way of popping up whenever he needed and longed for you. He never even had to speak a single word. You just always knew. And you might not have guessed it now, but he needed you more than he ever had before.

JJ scratches his brow with his index finger. “So, um…how have you been?” 

“Don’t. Just…don’t.”

“Y/N, please,” he pleads. He almost wants to get down on his knees and beg. You can’t even look at him, and that hurts more than he could ever put into words.

“No. I don’t wanna hear it. I’m fine with being professional while we film this movie, but I’m not getting into this with you. I’m not getting into any of it.”

JJ remains silent, choosing to nod because he’s not totally sure he can find his voice. 

As much as he hated to let the thought in, you were a walking reminder of every bad decision he’d made since he left the island and never looked back. He looked at you, and he saw two things. The first being the crinkling of your bright eyes when you smiled. The melodic laugh he could pull from your lips at a moment’s notice. Your hair blowing in the wind as you stuck your head out the window of John B’s Twinkie. And the second being the look of despise and pain on your face as you confronted him. The mascara-stained tears flowing down your heated cheeks. The way you walked away from him and deliberately chose not to look back and steal a second glance at him. 

How was he expected to act all suave and cool when you were right there in front of him, actively choosing not to even look in his direction?

Truth is, he doesn’t think he can. 

-

JJ glances at his phone once he leaves the production office still shaken by the day’s events. 

2 Missed FaceTime Calls from John B

JJ swipes to the right and watches as his phone rings, awaiting his best friend’s answer while he plops down on the steps in front of the building. The line rings for a few moments before he hears shuffling through the speaker, followed by John B’s face appearing on his screen.

“Hey, man. how was your meeting? Your new costar as hot as we imagined?”

JJ tears his eyes away from the camera, his lip sinking between his teeth. His complexion pales, and John B picks up on it. 

“Jeez. You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“Because I have,” JJ deadpans. He’s still reeling from your presence, and it shows.

“Huh?”

“It’s Y/N…my costar is Y/N.”

“Ooh, yikes,” John B responds. “Did she nut-punch you?”

“It’s not funny.” 

JJ tugs his cap off as he always does when he’s stressed, and his fingers card through his hair. He tugs lightly at the strands as he tries to alleviate the tension building up in his head. 

“She couldn’t even look at me, John B. Her eyes were on me for all of five seconds before she made an excuse to go to the bathroom. Then, when she came back, she looked at everything but me. She barely even let me speak to her.”

“Well, to be fair, you guys didn’t exactly leave things on the best of terms.”

“Yeah, JB. I know. Thanks for the reminder, as if I didn’t fucking know that already.”

“All right, look. Did you fuck up majorly? Yeah. But the love the two of you had…it ran deep. It doesn’t just disappear without a trace, especially if things are this heated after five years. I think you can get her to forgive you.” 

JJ scoffs, “Yeah? And how do you suppose I do that?”

John B gives him a knowing look through the screen. 

“You have to tell her the truth, JJ.”

“Funny.”

“J,” John B mildly scolds. “The reason she hates you right now is because you weren’t honest with her. The JJ she knew before that night never would’ve treated her the way you did. Buck up. Tell her.”

The call disconnects, and JJ is left staring at his screen with a tense jaw. He knew John B was right. He was always right. But how on earth was he expected to muster up the courage and tell you the truth about that night? He doubted — no. He knew it’d be impossible to convince you to hear him out. 

Then again, he also knew he had to try. Because he couldn’t stand to be around you nearly every single day for the next few months, knowing that you wouldn’t spit on him if he was on fire.

jj tag list: @pankowperfection @oncasette @taintedxkisses @maybankslover @goldenroutledge @penny4yourthoughts @bmo-bri @hemogloban @princessbetsy123-blog @slytherhoes @maybank-archives @whoisdrewstarkey @aliyahsomerhalder @dreamingwithrafe @vigilanteshitposting @poppet05 @adoreyouusugar @f4ll-for-you @slytheringirlthatkillpeople @tell-me-when-ur-ready @bbycowboi @jjmaybankisbae @enhypens-hoe @pankhoeforlife @cecesrings @wildflwrdarlin @loverofdrewstarkey @earth2starkey @angelofcigs @topper-thornton @em0-b0ysworld @koalalafications @aerangi @cantstoptherecs @bloody-mf-bsc @maybanksbabe @sarah5462 @slut4drudy @lvvrgrl @dancinglikeaballerina @somerandos-world @shahanaazsoumah @peachpitlover @pinkpantheris @julesmendoza890 @emmalandry @blueicequeen19 @madelynie

[lingeriae]

𝐎𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭

𝙋𝙖𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜: 𝙀𝙡𝙡𝙞𝙤𝙩 𝙭 𝘽𝙡𝙖𝙘𝙠 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧

𝙒𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜: 𝘾𝙪𝙧𝙨𝙞𝙣𝙜, 𝙇𝙞𝙥-𝙡𝙤𝙘𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙜 💀, 𝙢𝙚𝙣𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣 𝙤𝙛 𝙢𝙖𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙤𝙪𝙩, 𝙍𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧 𝙨𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙘𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙪𝙥 𝙗𝙚𝙘𝙖𝙪𝙨𝙚 𝙚𝙡𝙡𝙞𝙤𝙩 𝙨𝙝𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙨 𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙩𝙤𝙣𝙜𝙪𝙚 𝙙𝙤𝙬𝙣 𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙩𝙝𝙧𝙤𝙖𝙩

❦︎𝙔𝙤𝙪 licked your lips for what felt like the millionth time that night, a sigh passing through you as you continously looked at your phone seeing the same thing you saw a few seconds ago. Delivered.

You sighed again as you sat up straighter, silently cursing Rue as she was the reason you were in this exact situation.

To clear things up, Rue had invited you to a sleepover with her new friend, whom she introduced you a few days ago, and her girlfriend Jules. It took you a couple-fuck that. Alot of convincing to agree, because A, you didn't really like Jules that much and B, you didn't like Elliot that much either.

It's not like they both did something specific for you not to like them, I mean you found Jules really fucking selfish for leaving Rue but that's besides the point. They both just didn't seem like the type of people you'd get along with,

So imagine how you felt now, as you were alone with a certain bleach headed stoner boy, 𝘋𝘦𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘵𝘭𝘺 𝘸𝘪𝘴𝘩 𝘐 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘢 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘮𝘢𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘦-

"Why do I get the feeling you don't really like me?" Elliot suddenly spoke up, his back turned to you as he played around on his guitar.

Looking up from your phone for second to look at him, you bit your inner cheek. "I don't." you stated bluntly. You watched him pause for a second before glancing over his shoulder to look at you for a second, "May I ask why?"

"No." You answered, side-eyeing him as he turned fully to face you,

"Is it the face tats?" He asked again, you blinked as you finally looked up at him. "Why would it be the face tats?"

He shrugged as he pursed his lips, "Some people don't like em."

"It's not the face tats, they're cool." You said, muttering the last part as you turned back to your phone.

"Thank you." You didn't respond as you tapped your phone impatiently feeling anxious at the silence that came after he spoke.

"Do I make you nervous?"

You paused, looking up at him to find him already looking at you. He licked his lips as yours parted before closing, "No, no you don't."

"Why'd you hesitate?" He questioned with a tilted his head as your brows drew together. "Cause it was a random ass question?" you sassed back.

"Sure."

Narrowing your eyes at him your rubbed your glossed lips together, "You don't." He raised his eyebrows nodding and muttering an 'uh huh' as he went back to his guitar.

"Could you stop that?" You hissed as you crossed your hands over your chest, the gesture causing your titties to pop up which didn't go unnoticed by Elliot.

"Stop what?"

"Pretending that you know shit, but you don't."

"Why're you getting so defensive over this?" Sucking your teeth you shook your head as you got up, "Ion got the time of day for this." you muttered about to open the door only to be slammed up against it, an inaudible gasp coming out of you as you looked up.

Elliot looked down at you a blank look on his face which had you pushing your thighs together, "Look, I don't know what the fuck I did for you to be so pissed at me but you need to calm down, babydoll."

You swallowed as you tried to keep the eye-contact, which ended up with you looking down at your feet, "What, got nothing to say now?"

You didn't respond still looking down at you feet, your eyes widening as he titlted you chin up so he could look you in your eyes, his eyes looking down at your lips as he did so,

"M talking to you." He whispered, eyes shooting back up to yours.

Your not sure when you started leaning in but your lips were on his the second he said that, and he wasted no time into kissing you back. A sigh leaving your lips as he pushed you against the door even more, your hand finding place on his chest as he held your hips, pushing you more into him.

You felt your phone vibrate in your pocket which caused you to push on his chest, Elliots lips jutting out in a pout as you stopped the kiss to check your phone; "Jules and Rue are on their way." You muttered to him, looking up to see him looking down at you which caused your cheeks to heat up.

"Ok?" He muttered back moving to start kissing you again. Pushing on his chest on more time you looked up at him, "You can make-out with me later, when they're gone."

A grin made it's way unto his face as he licked his lips, the action causing you to glance down at them before looking up into his eyes once more, "ok."

Walking over to his bed you sat down as he went back to his guitar, a small smile on your face as you fiddled with your hands. Your cheek heating up at that fact that you had made-out with this boy you claimed to not like a minute ago, and liked it.

How the fuck were you gonna explain this to Rue.

𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀𝖾𝗋𝗂𝖺𝖾ᵐ

[captain-josslett]

Broken Melody - Part Thirty Five

Masterlist

Summary: Grammy Award winning Emma Danvers is the first to say she has a pretty good life. But what happens when it implodes around her and it looks like things will never be the same again?

Words: 4.1k+

Warnings: Fluff, Angst, Injury

Pairings: Emma Danvers x Lena Luthor, Alex Danvers x Sam Arias

This Part: Has the surgery been a success?

Man, sorry for the delay. Life has been hectic here and thankfully my Dad is okay. Despite having a mini heart attack and not being happy about the new meal plan and exercise he is doing 😅 I'm already 2k in on part 36... so hopefully won't be too long

Thank you for reading and let me know if you wanna be tagged or any general feedback will be greatly appreciated. Please! I like knowing your thoughts.

Taglist: @finleyfray, @life-is-hella-unfair, @natasha-danvers, @supergirl-writingz, @camslightstories, @thinking1bee, @aznblossom

Lena holds her breath, along with everyone else in the room, as they watch Emma open her mouth.

‘Please work, please work, please work, please work, please, please, please.’ Lena wishes over and over, trying not to squeeze Emma’s hand too tight with her nerves.

But nothing happens.

Only the sound of her breath emits from Emma’s throat.

At this realisation, Lena’s stomach drops. She immediately schools her expression and tries to keep the devastation off her face as pained hazel green eyes snap to hers.

“Okay.” Doctor Sloan’s voice is calm despite the growing tension in the room. He pours some water into a cup and holds it out for Emma to take. “Have some water and try again.”

Lena observes the slight shake in Emma’s hand as she reaches out and takes the cup, lifting it to her lips. Wincing as the cool liquid slides down her swollen throat.

Taking another deep breath Emma slowly opens her mouth again and tries to make any sound.

Nothing comes out.

Doctor Sloan begins talking, his voice is soft and reassuring but all Lena can hear is the blood pumping around her ears and she lowers her head.

‘This is your fault.’ Her mind whispers cruelly to her. ‘If you hadn’t left her that day, if you had been there this wouldn’t have happened, if you had been enough-’

A scrape of a chair makes Lena’s head snap back up. Seeing Eliza jump up quickly and hold a clearly distraught Emma in her arms.

“It’s okay. I’ve got you.” Eliza whispers into Emma’s ear as her daughter nuzzles her face into the crook of her Mom’s neck. Her mouth opens in silent sobs, her breath coming out in pained gasps.

Lena peers behind her, Alex, Kara, Lucy and Sam have disappeared from the room. Nia has her head in her hands and Lena can see tears falling to the floor, Brainy and Winn are already looking over their tablets, conversing on the next steps they could do to help. J’onn sadly meets her eyes and goes to sit in the chair Eliza just vacated.

“I don’t care!” Alex’s enraged voice yells from the open door leading into the corridor, making Lena let go of Emma’s hand and stride out of the room towards the other voices of her friends. Promptly closing the door as she steps through it, not wanting it to further stress Emma.

She pauses at the scene in front of her. Alex’s face red with fury, the doctor against the wall with Alex’s arm pressed against his neck. Sam and Kara have their hands on her shoulders to stop her, while Lucy just watches with her arms crossed tightly against her chest and Doctor Hamilton stares at the scene with her mouth open like a goldfish.

“Look, I know you’re upset, I get that.” Doctor Sloan says calmly, trying to soothe the furious redhead. “We knew this surgery might not succeed but others still might, possibly, work. This is a foundation for us to work on, to use different therapies, injections in her neck. There are other options we can use.”

“Alex.” Kara pleads softly, tears brimming her eyes.

“It didn’t work.” Alex gasps out as she shakes with adrenaline.

“Not this time.” The Doctor says with genuine sorrow in his eyes. “But I promise you, I am going to do everything in my power so that one day your sister can talk.”

“And sing.” Lucy narrows her eyes at him.

Doctor Sloan pauses and takes a deep intake of breath. “Hopefully.”

“Hopefully?!” Alex barks, her rage reigniting.

“Babe, that’s enough.” Sam pulls her girlfriend off the Doctor and holds her in an embrace.

“It didn’t work. It didn’t work.” Alex’s muffled voice can be heard weeping out.

Tears prick Lena’s eyes and she clenches her jaw. Slowly she builds up an expressionless mask to hide the devastation she is feeling. A wall to keep her pain in.

She watches as Doctor Sloan turns to leave with Doctor Hamilton and Lena strides after them. Stepping into the CEO, scientist role and out of her girlfriend status.

“Doctor Sloan.” She calls after him, passing her desolate friends on the way.

“Ms Luthor.” He nods at her apprehensively.

“I would like to discuss with you the equipment you used.” Lena motions for him to lead the way to Doctor Hamilton's office to continue their discussion.

Lucy watches her leave with the Doctors and debates about whether she should follow or not.

Deciding against it she turns back to Sam, Alex and Kara. The blonde superhero was now hugging Alex as the two sisters tried to console each other.

Sam and Lucy’s eyes meet and Lucy nods before turning back to go into the room. They will get through this. They have too.

-- -- --

Two Days After The Surgery

Emma is lying on her side in her bed. The room is in partial darkness with the windows being slightly tinted. Not allowing the sunlight to enter all day and distorting the colour of the sunset that she is ignoring.

Her throat feels tight and itchy from the surgery and all Emma really wants to do is sleep to escape the memories of the past few days. To escape to dreams filled with beaches, quiet places and safety.

Not the memories of seeing the devastation written on everyone’s faces. The absolute agony that exploded within her at the realisation that the surgery hadn’t worked.

The way her Mom was the only one who comforted her right away. That Lena had let go of her hand and disappeared, along with her sisters. When all Emma needed and wanted in that moment was to be in her arms. To have Lena’s soothing voice reassure her things will be okay. For her sisters to be sitting on the bed with her and comforting her.

She hears a light knock on the bedroom door but doesn’t move, just keeps staring ahead.

“Love?” Lena’s voice softly calls into the dark room after she pushes open the door. Emma hears the soft patter of Lena’s footsteps on the carpet until Emma feels the bed dips behind her. “Hey.” Lena coos out and wraps an arm around Emma’s waist. “Are you okay?”

‘No.’ Emma thinks but instead she reaches for her girlfriend’s hand and squeezes it three times.

“I love you too, but you didn’t answer my question.”

Emma doesn’t respond, just stares straight ahead at nothing. Her eyes fill, for what feels the millionth time, with tears.

“Em.” Lena’s voice cracks and Emma feels Lena roll her onto her other side. Darkness surrounds Emma as Lena holds her close but Emma doesn’t move.

“Lee?” Kara’s voice quietly calls from the bedroom door and Emma hears two sets of footprints pad over to the bed. “Hi little one.” Kara says softly but Emma keeps her head nuzzled in Lena’s chest.

“Has she been in bed all day?” Alex’s voice queries Lena.

“I- yes, I think so. I did try to get her up earlier but she just lays here.”

Emma hears Alex sigh heavily and feels Alex get on the bed behind her. “Hey peanut.” A hand touches Emma’s shoulder and she unintentionally flinches under her sister’s hand. “Sorry.” Alex’s hand falters for a moment but gently lowers until it's fully resting on her shoulder again. Emma slowly breathes out and forces the tears to not fall.

“Everyone’s here for a Superfriends night. We will do whatever you want.” Kara's voice sounds airy and light but frustration bubbles within Emma. All she wants to do is lay in bed and sleep and not have to perform. To pretend she is okay.

Emma lets out a heavy breath through her nose, to try and release the bubbling frustration she is feeling.

“You don’t have to love. You can stay in here and rest. No one is expecting anything from you.” Lena says softly in Emma’s ear and kisses the top of her head.

Emma nods but stretches against Lena. Signalling she is about to get up.

Seeing this Alex moves off the bed and Emma rolls over and tries to sit up. The room spins, making her flop back into Lena.

The raven haired beauty chuckles, thinking it's due to Emma’s stiff body that she’s fallen back.

“I’ll help you up.” Alex reaches down and takes a hold of Emma’s hands. “On the count of three. One, two, threeee!”

Emma lets Alex help sit her up, also feeling Lena placing her hands on her back in case she falls again. When Alex moves away Emma carefully moves her legs off the bed, squinting her eyes as Lena turns the lights on.

“You are cleared to eat soft foods, so Nia and Brainy made us macaroni and cheese.” Kara says while heading into the walk-in wardrobe to grab Emma some fresh clothes. “I mean, it was Brainy’s idea which was really sweet.” Kara places the clothes by Emma and gives her a small smile.

Emma curves her lips up in response and nods. Wincing at the movement and runs a tired hand through her hair.

“We’ll see you out there.” Alex grabs a hold of Kara’s hand and they leave the room.

“Do you need help changing?” Lena asks beside her, having shuffled across the bed to sit next to her girlfriend.

Emma shakes her head and removes her t-shirt, exposing her naked chest. Making Lena groan.

“I can’t believe we have to wait over a month for me to ravish you.” Lena moans softly and kisses Emma’s cheek. “Good job we fucked in the bath huh?” Lena kisses Emma’s lips and the blonde kisses back. Smirking as Lena runs a hand gently over her chest.

The couple had been prepared that they couldn’t have sex for a while after the surgery. But when Doctor Sloan admitted the time frame to being a month and a half, Lena wanted to punch the Doctor.

Emma turns and raises an eyebrow at her. “I can still please you.”

“I know love. But I want to please you as well.” Lena slowly leans in and tenderly kisses Emma’s lips. “Plus, we do have to be careful.”

Emma lets out a heavy breath as she sighs and nods. Grabbing her clothes she quickly changes into loose jeans and a navy t-shirt with a sloth surfing a wave, while Lena waits on the bed.

“How do you make a simple outfit look so sexy?” Lena smirks at Emma, her eyes bright and glistening.

Emma gives her a small smile in response, which causes Lena’s to drop slightly.

“Hey, come here.” Lena opens her arms and Emma momentarily hesitates before falling into them. “I know this is less than ideal but we will get through this.”

Emma snuggles her head into Lena’s neck and breathes deeply. Allowing the feelings of safety and love to replace the anxiety she was feeling.

“Hey love birds!” Lucy shouts from the living area. “If you don’t come now all the food is gonna be consumed by two and a half cranky Kryptonians!”

“Hey!” Ruby squawks from the other room as Kara and Sam join in.

“Excuse me?!”

“I’m not cranky!!”

“Point proven babe.” Alex laughs and the sound of a light slap follows. “Ow! Hey Emma, help me!”

Pulling away from Lena, Emma quickly gets up and rushes into the living area. Alex is rubbing her arm and rolling her bottom lip forward as Sam shakes her head and chuckles.

“Emma!” Ruby yells and rushes over to the blonde.

“Ruby! Care-”

The teenager collides heavily with Emma, making her dispel a lot of air as she wraps her arms around her.

“-ful.” Sam finishes and rolls her eyes at her daughter. “Seriously that kid.”

Emma hugs Ruby back and smiles at them. When the teen breaks away Emma quickly moves to Alex’s side and wraps her arms protectively around her sister.

“She slapped me.” Alex whines and snuggles closer into Emma.

“Aww baby! I barely touched you.” Sam rubs Alex’s shoulder and sweetly kisses her cheek. Emma kisses Alex’s other cheek and shoots Sam a dirty look, making the brunette laugh. “I promise I won’t hurt her Em.”

Emma quickly nods and Alex nuzzles her nose into the side of Emma’s face.

“So food now?” Kara smiles brightly and lifts the lid on the simmering pan. “Rao, this smells so good!”

“Ooo yummy!” Ruby agrees as she takes in a big sniff of the delicious food.

“Thank you Kara, Ruby.” Brainy nods his head and picks up the spoon to dish the macaroni out.

“Yay!” Kara super speeds into a seat at the extended dining table with Ruby following right behind her. J’onn and Kara have flown in another fold up table and chairs so everyone could sit around a table together and eat.

Emma lets out a heavy snort through her nose as she watches her sister and the teenager.

“May they never change.” Alex laughs and moves to get everyone's drinks.

“Emma! Come sit next to me!” Ruby pats the vacant chair next to her. Emma grins slightly and goes to run over to them. Suddenly the room shifts and morphs around her.

‘Fuck no!’ Emma’s eyes go wide and she tries to avoid crashing into the table. Instead she trips on a chair leg, sending it flying and causing herself to slide across the floor, hitting her head on the back of the sofa.

“EMMA?!” A chorus of voices cry out her name and many rush over to her.

‘Ow.’ Emma moans, quickly sitting up with a cheerful smile on her face to show she was okay. But a blush colours her cheeks, showing her embarrassment.

“Stay down!” Alex orders furiously, her worry giving away to anger and Emma freezes as her sister kneels in front of her. “I need to check your wound.” She snaps and reaches out to pull the plaster away.

“Alex, wait!” Lena shouts urgently while kneeling next to her. She gently takes Emma’s hand and helps her sit fully up against the back of the sofa. “Deep breaths for me okay?”

Catching on to what Lena is trying to do, Alex’s face softens. “I’ll be gentle.”

Emma nods and focuses her eyes on Lena’s as Alex slowly pulls the band-aid off.

“Wow, this is actually healing really well.” Alex mutters and gently presses certain parts of Emma’s neck for any tears in the stiches, causing Emma to tighten her grip on Lena’s hand. Trying to keep herself grounded in the present.

“So, I was thinking-” Lena begins talking, seeing how Emma’s eyes were starting to glaze over and wanting to stop Emma’s nosedive into an episode. “Maybe we should take that trip soon?” Relief fills her as Emma’s eyes are able to focus on her and her eyes start to brighten with interest. “Go somewhere like the Maldives to unwind, swim in the sea, snorkel and you know-” Lena coughs lightly and lowers her voice towards Emma’s ear. “Other things.”

A quick puff of air escapes Emma’s lips as she voicelessly snorts.

“What like food?” Kara pipes up as she watches them from the table, having frozen in shock at Emma’s fall.

“Yes Kara, especially the food.” Alex says sarcastically and rolls her eyes at Emma, causing the blonde to grin. “Can someone get me a wi-”

“Here you go babe.” Sam appears in a blur and hands Alex a cleansing wipe and a new neck plaster.

“Thanks.”

“Is she going to be okay?” Ruby asks nervously to her Mom.

“Yes Rubes she is.” Sam hugs her daughter reassuringly and ushers her back to her seat.

Alex does the task quickly and soon everyone is sitting around the table eating the meal Brainy and Nia had made while listening to Winn’s story about successfully stopping a bank robbery with James.

“And then the idiots decide to run while-”

“I swooped in and pummeled the sons of bitches and-”

“James! Children present!” Sam barks.

“Moooom!” Ruby whines but motions for James to continue.

Emma’s eyes quickly move to Winn and watch him deflate back into his chair as James takes over the story. As if sensing her gaze Winn looks up at her and Emma lifts her mouth into a smile. The corner of his mouth lifts up and he nods before shoving more food in his mouth.

“Sweetheart?” Eliza quietly catches her attention from across the table. “You need to eat some more.”

Emma glances down at her bowl of food and realises she’s barely touched it. Lowering her fork Emma scoops up a few pieces of macaroni and slowly chews it. The pain almost makes her wince but Emma doesn’t want to seem ungrateful for the kind gesture Nia and Brainy did for her.

Her Mom nods and smiles at her before turning back to J’onn to continue their conversation.

Emma continues picking at her food and listens to the different exchanges happening around the table. Her stomach pinches as she wants to join in the conversations but knows the rhythm of communications will severely slow down while she signs and someone speaks her words out for her.

Instead Emma keeps her head down and continues eating, imagining different melodies and lyrics for songs. Her fingers softly moving against the surface of the table as if she is playing ivory keys.

If anyone notices Emma’s subdued mood, they leave her be. Putting it down to fatigue from the surgery and emotional exhaustion from the aftermath.

Lena does slip her left hand under the table and rests it on Emma’s right thigh, making the blonde jump but Lena soothingly rubs her thumb back and forth, settling Emma  quickly.

“-you think Emma?” Winn’s voice asks, bringing her out of her little music bubble.

“Winn was asking whether we should all go to the carnival next week?” Lena says helpfully having seen Emma snap out of her daze.

But before Emma can even process James pipes up.

“It may have to be the week after, there’s the convention at the arena.”

“Also gives us time to hire it out for a few hours.” Alex nods in thought. “Be nice not to have to wear face modifiers.”

“I’ll see what I can do.” Lena nods and smiles.

“That sounds like fun!” Nia claps her hands and beams at the group.

“And talking of next week, as everyone is here, Alex’s moving date is a week tomorrow. If anyone wants to help?” Sam says with a bright smile, causing Emma to smile back and nod.

“Really? That soon?” James enquires, his eyes narrowing slightly.

“Yes, I’m practically spending all my time at Sam and Ruby’s apartment, so it makes sense.” Alex glares right back at her friend.

“And you don’t think you are moving too quickly since-” James jumps as a foot kicks his shin, he turns his head and glares at Winn.

“No, I don’t. Since it was your sister who left me.” Alex responds coolly.

James lifts his glass in surrender. “True. And someone has to keep the typical u-haul lesbians trend alive. Cheers.” He smirks and downs his drink, Alex lifts her beer and salutes him before taking a sip.

The night continues without any more hitches as the superfriends clear the table and a group game of monopoly starts. Emma typically pairs with Lena as her partner and mainly rests her head on Lena’s shoulder as the game progresses.

“What do you think love?” Lena asks, trying to keep Emma involved in the game. “Shall we swap our browns for the green James and Winn are offering?”

Emma nods, seeing it would be a good swap as they already had the two other properties and would create a set.

It was indeed a good move as more and more players land on their properties and Lena gleefully takes their money.

“Thank you kindly!” She smiles brightly as Sam thrusts all of Alex’s and her money, bankrupting them and winning Lena and Emma the game.

“Well done Aunty Lee.” Ruby yawns and copies Emma by resting her head on her Mom’s shoulder.

Lena smiles at the teen and the game is packed away. The group starts saying their goodbyes, all giving Emma reassuring hugs and consoling words.

Soon only Alex, Kara, Lena and Emma are in the apartment. The sisters hover by the balcony door while Lena finishes packing up the dishwasher, having already said her farewells. Kara seemingly held onto her longer than usual as they hugged.

“So, shall we have a sister night here on Friday?” Kara nervously asks as she fiddles with her glasses.

Emma slowly blinks while leaning against the window, feeling her eyes growing heavy, but she nods and smiles sleepily at the thought of a sister's night.

“Yea, sounds good.” Alex agrees and goes to give Emma a hug. “Goodnight peanut.” Emma wraps her arms around her sister and squeezes.

“Goodnight little one.” Kara comes behind Emma and Emma moves her arm back to try and hug her other sister as well.

Emma takes a deep breath, soaking in her warm feelings of love she is getting but immediately a silent yawn escapes her mouth.

“Sounds like someone needs to go to bed!” Alex laughs, Emma leans her head back against Kara’s shoulder and nods. Allowing her eyes to close while her sister’s hold her up.

“Okie dokie.” She hears Kara say and her  smile widens at the phrase until suddenly she is lifted into Kara’s arms.

If she could have used her voice, Emma would have squealed in surprise. Instead a heavy, quick dispel of breath leaves her mouth.

“Sorry little one!” Kara exclaims after hearing Emma’s heartbeat increase in speed and she carries her baby sister into her bedroom. She smiles sadly as Emma wraps her arms around her shoulders and holds on. Alex glances over at Lena who is watching with sadness in her eyes.

“How are you doing Lena?” Alex asks, making Lena’s somber eyes snap to warm brown ones.

“Me?” The raven haired beauty asks, taken aback by Alex’s question.

“Anyone else in this room?” Alex quips and leans on the island.

“Well, I’m fine.”

“Fucked up. Insecure. Neurotic. Emotional.” Alex lists off the familiar phrase and raises her eyebrows at Lena.

Making Lena chuckle. “Sounds about right.”

“But seriously, you know where I am if you ever need me. Kay?”

Lena’s face softens and she swallows deeply. “Thank you. And the same goes for you.”

Alex nods and Kara reappears in the living area.

“Shall we go?” Kara asks and heads towards the balcony, Alex turns to follow her.

“Oh and Alex?” Lena moves around the island to stand in front of the redhead. Making Kara whirl around by the intentive tone of her best friend’s voice.

‘This should be good.’ Kara smirks and watches.

“Yes Lena?” Alex asks and watches as Lena transforms into the powerful CEO and sizes the redhead up.

“As Sam is my oldest and dearest friend, I feel it is my duty to warn you that if you ever hurt her in any way, I will hunt you down and use other methods more painful then you can possibly imagine to hurt you back. Your little finger trick? Has nothing on what I can do.”

Seeing how serious Lena was Alex nods, schooling her expression to not smile. Knowing that Lena does infact mean it and the different ways of torture Lena can conjure up. “I will keep that in mind.”

“Good.” Lena nods then opens her arms to hug the redhead, which Alex gladly accepts. Suddenly a force plows into them, making the pair sway as Kara wraps her arms around them.

“Kara!” Alex laughs and Lena kisses her best friend’s head affectionately.

Soon the sisters finally leave as Kara flies Alex to Sam’s apartment. Lena watches them disappear into the night before closing and locking the balcony door.

“Hope, please turn off all the lights and engage security protocol.” Lena quietly calls out as she makes her way to the dimly lit bedroom.

Her stomach pinches as her eyes focus on a fast asleep Emma propped against the headboard as if waiting for her.

Lena silently steps into the room and closes the door, hearing the whirl of the security locks sliding into place.

Immediately she turns back to her girlfriend and walks softly over to her. Grimacing at the angle of Emma’s neck, imaging the painful tug the blonde will be feeling if she stays in that position for much longer.

Carefully Lena maneuvers Emma’s body to a lying position, the blonde doesn't stir once but immediately curls towards Lena’s side of the bed. Lena smiles sadly and quickly gets ready to join her girlfriend.

Finally she slides under the covers and lays on her side to face the still sleeping Emma.

“Goodnight my love.” Lena whispers, gently kissing Emma’s lips and wraps her arm around her waist.

(Part Thirty Six)

[luvrgirl555]

what does leaving mean? (part two) -- S.R.

part one

masterlist

taglist: @introvertatitsfinest @criesinreid @hailmary-yramliah​ @youareperrrfectls​

an: thank you for so much love on part one <3 it really does mean the world to me and i hope this part two is good as well :) thank you for reading!! i always enjoy comments and notes as well hehe

2k+ words

warnings: some angst :( 

spencer kept his head pointed downwards while walking from the elevator to his desk in the bullpen.

the team wasn’t surprised, considering he had been keeping his distance from them the past couple of weeks, but they were starting to worry.

penelope, ever the peacemaker, decided to make him a cup of coffee and bring it over with only a few (15) bags of sugar.

she set the cup down on the coaster on his desk, the coaster that had been painted by the hands of a three year old little girl.

his three year old little girl.

he didn’t look up from the case file in his hands when penelope walked over to him, or even when she set the cup down or tried to hand him the sugar.

she gulped before asking, “reid?”

he looked up and blinked at her.

“are you alright?”

“fine,” he replied, clearing his throat and going back to the file.

at this point, jj, tara and luke made their way over to his desk as well each of them looking at him with sad eyes.

“man, you okay?” luke finally piped up, and spencer rolled his eyes.

“i thought we didn’t profile each other,” he span his desk chair around, partly so they couldn’t see his body language but also because they way they surrounded him made him feel like a victim getting hounded for answers.

“spence, if you need help you can always come to us,” jj said, her tone soft, motherly.

“goddammit,” he muttered and stood up, briskly walking away in the direction of the restrooms.

spencer was never good at hiding his emotions, never good at saying what was wrong, and especially not at asking for help.

was that why you’d left? he asked himself every moment.

all of the things that he’d done over the past months, past years, raced through his mind as he tried to piece together your relationship while he lie alone in his bed.

he didn’t know how he didn’t see it coming. had he really been so oblivious to all the signs? had you just been so good at hiding it?

he wished everything could go back to when you first met him and time stood still. when you taught him to dance with you in the kitchen and taught him that it’s okay to love again.

the cool water he splashed on his face didn’t make him feel better, or make the tears that constantly threatened to fall go away. nothing had been making him feel better.

he threw himself into case files, taking on extra work that he could do when he should have been sleeping.

he couldn’t sleep, not without you there, and especially not while knowing that he shouldn’t even call you or attempt to hear your voice. 

he thought you didn’t want that.

a feeling of hopelessness started to enter his mind, the same hopelessness he hadn’t felt in years, not since prison.

footsteps entering the room made him look up from the sink to see luke.

spencer looked back down at the sink, trying anything to avoid eye contact with his friend.

“we’re all just worried about you, man,” luke finally spoke.

spencer’s lips scrunched up to the right as he tried to keep it together.

“is it y/n? emma? are they okay?”

one of spencer’s hands went to cover his watery eyes as luke pulled him in for a hug.

spencer’s entire body just seemed to break down in luke’s arms. he felt like his legs turned into jelly as he clung onto luke’s shoulders for dear life and he cried.

he sobbed.

something luke had never seen before, not from spencer.

everyone assumed that he was an unbreakable man. someone who had gone through everything, and someone who was incredible at coping.

none of those things weren’t true.

“she’s gone,” he sniffled “they’re all gone.”

luke was able to stand spencer back on his feet while spencer rubbed the remaining tears from his face.

“they’re gone?” luke tried to clarify.

“she’s left, and i don’t know if she’s coming back.”

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

“mama,” a little voice says while little hands tug on your jeans.

“what is it, ems?” you reply, warily. you haven’t been getting much sleep recently. possibly due to the fact that you were around 30 weeks pregnant and more likely due to the fact that you missed your spencer.

it didn’t feel hard, basically raising emma on your own because you’d done that before. every time spencer was on a case, or when she was really little and he was in prison. it wasn’t that transition that you struggled with, it was the fact that you didn’t feel like you could call him. the fact that emma asked for him around 30 times a day, and rising, because she hadn’t seen him for weeks.

“mama, where daddy?” she asked.

“daddy’s at work,” you replied, just like every other time she asked.

you handed her a sippy cup filled with juice and led her to the sofa to sit.

you had been staying at a friends house after you called her sobbing with the news a few days after you’d left the house.

“can daddy read me?” she asked running over the bag you’d brought with some of her things, including a few picture books.

“i don’t think so. i think daddy’s busy,” you offered, gently brushing her blonde curls out of her eyes.

“call?” she asked softly, and by the way she stuck her bottom lip out you knew she was about to cry.

she’d been a strong little girl, always trying to comfort you when you cried and rarely crying herself, even when she wanted her dad, but you knew that would be coming to an end very soon.

you sighed.

“do you want to go see if daddy’s at work with auntie jj and auntie penny?” you asked and a smile immediately returned to her face.

she was tired, you could tell, but you had a feeling she’d go down for a nap much better with a story from her father.

and you could also tell that you needed to see him too.

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

“right, we’ll see you soon,” jj hung up the phone and breathed a sigh of relief.

“what was that all about?” rossi asked, while dropping off some papers for her.

“y/n and emma are headed over here,” she whispered and dave hummed with a smile and a nod.

just then spencer walked back into the room, looking more disheveled and less bright eyed than before. luke followed after him, giving him a few pats on the back before heading to his respective desk.

spencer quickly made his way up the stairs and knocked on the door to emily’s office. she let him in quickly and jj could see through the window that he sat down and she sat beside him while his head was bowed.

minutes felt like hours while jj watched emily comfort, or at least try to comfort him while he cried.

minutes later when he stood up and began to exit the room the doors to the bau opened behind jj.

in ran an excited three year old girl, bounding as fast as her little legs could carry her.

you followed behind her, sadly smiling at how happy and excited she was.

she needed this.

when spencer saw her tears immediately rushed to his eyes for what felt like the millionth time today.

he needed this.

“dada!” emma screamed, which made a few people in the office laugh but she didn’t care, and neither didn’t her mom or dad.

he went down the stairs and walked towards his little daughter quickly scooping her up in his arms and holding her tight.

she lay her head on his shoulder and tried to wrap her arms around his neck while she giggled.

“hi baby,” he whispered, running his hands through her thin, blonde hair.

you could tell he was crying but trying not to show it, which made tears well in your eyes even more.

he looked over at you and you smiled, but he could see the sadness in your eyes.

“y/n!” you heard, the one and only penelope exclaim when she walked in the room and you looked over your shoulder to greet her.

she, along with jj and emily gave you a hug while spencer brought emma over to his desk and sat down with her on his lap.

you walked over to them when you were done greeting everyone and pulled the book emma had insisted on out of your purse.

you could see her talking animatedly while she sat, constantly moving her hands just like he did.

spencer just smiled so big he didn’t feel like anything could ever ruin this moment.

“and miss you, daddy,” you heard her say when she quickly gave him another hug.

he gave her another squeeze.

“i miss you too, ems,” he replied and she began to pull away and pointed at you.

“mama miss you,” she said simply.

he looked up at you and you nodded a little bit, looking down where you couldn’t see much of anything except your pregnant belly.

“i miss mama, too,” he whispered and she smiled.

“read me?” emma quickly asked, completely not understanding social cues which made you smile.

“of course!” he exclaimed while you handed the book over.

he didn’t need it, he had every single one of her books memorized, he could have recited an entire library for her, but he opened the book and started on page one while she lay in the crook of his neck to fall asleep.

you listened while he spoke in different tones and inflections, his eyes moving swiftly across the page. you tried desperately to memorize this moment in your head, so you could never forget what he looked like, especially when he looked so happy.

you needed this.

when he finished he handed you back the book and you tried to take emma back, “well we should be going,” you said. “thank you for reading to her, she wouldn’t go down without it.”

“wait, y/n,” he quickly stood up and bit his lip nervously.

“spencer?” you replied when he didn’t say anything more.

jj came and grabbed emma from you when she noticed what was going on, and you gulped when spencer grabbed your free hands.

“can we talk?” he asked.

you breathed heavily.

“spence-” you started but he cut you off, already knowing what you were going to say.

“just a few minutes?”

you conceded, and he led you to an empty room that you remember previously being derek’s office.

he grabbed both of your hands again and you looked up at him, a huff on your face.

“i wasn’t lying when i said i miss you,” he said.

“i miss you too,” you said, “but now i don’t have to get my hopes up.”

you pulled away and walked behind him.

“i messed up.”

“yeah...” you trailed off. you could feel the hurt in your heart manifesting through your voice and you began crying softly.

“oh, please,” spencer turned to look at you, “don’t cry.”

“i can’t seem to stop,” you hastily wiped the water from your face.

“i’m so sorry,” he whispered.

you nodded.

“i know.”

he gulped.

“i’m sorry, too,” you brushed a piece of hair behind your ear, “for leaving like that.”

“i understand why you did,” spencer gently takes your hand again. “i’ve been a horrible father and even worse husband.”

“i wouldn’t say horrible,” you argued.

he shook his head, “i promised i would never end up like my father, and i did,” he seems annoyed at himself. “i pushed and pushed you away, and i have never been more sorry for anything.”

you can tell how sincere he is by the way his eyes lock on yours and how tightly his hand is squeezing.

you close your eyes and quickly fall into his arms in the tightest hug you both can manage, feeling gentle kicks between the two of you.

“i don’t want you to leave, y/n,” he says, shakily.

“i don’t want to leave.”

you feel his hands gently cup your face as he leans down to connect your lips with his. you melt in the feeling that you’ve been missing and craving for so long.

when you opened your eyes he said, “i’ll start teaching again, full time even, whatever it takes.”

you smile.

“i don’t want you to quit your job, spence,” you bring your hand up to his cheek and stroke with your thumb, “i just want you to come be with us every one in a while.”

“i promise,” he says grabbing your arm and kissing you again.

as hard as he can.

promising himself he’ll never lose you again.

[mrvdocks]

Nightcall P.1

Request/Summary: Kurt is obsessive over a model and kidnaps her, taking her along for the ride of the night. 

After

The flurry of phones ringing off the hook and background noise felt foreign to you, it was just a buzzing in your ear. You pulled the safety blanket around you closer, grabbing it in fistfuls. You don’t know how long you’ve been here, but it feels like hours. The fluorescent in the room probably only made you look even worse for wear than you were hours before, but it didn’t matter now. In a span of 24 hours, your life had changed. 

The guarded door opened and an officer pulled up a chair in front of you, dropping photos of the gruesome scene you’d seen firsthand. She slides the photos closer, her thumb obscuring the killer’s face. You didn’t need to see it a second time.

“You were found in the residence of Mr. Kunkle, with one Jessie Adams and a John Doe, who seems to have been the victim of Mr. Kunkle’s spree amongst others.”

Even his name brings chills down your spine. 

“I already told the police everything.” You say groggily, your throat still sore from the whole ordeal.

“Yes, but there seems to be some doubt on your partnership with Mr. Kunkle. Footage, eyewitness accounts,” she’s studying you no doubt. Any sort of tick or movement you made without thought that could somehow lead her to think you were lying about anything you had explained earlier. 

“What was your relationship with Mr. Kunkle?” She pries, bringing multiple photos of Kurt to be splayed out in front of you. Some good, some bad, some….disturbing. 

“I - none. He just knew me through the socials.” 

“And you were also the target of his mania.” There’s something unsettling in how much she’s liking interrogating you. You ignore it. 

“You think it’s my fault he did this.” 

It was not your fault. None of this was. Kurt was just too power hungry. Maybe you were too trusting. You didn’t want to see Kurt for what he really was until it was too late. 

“I’m not saying it’s your fault, but your compliance does seem suspicious.”

“I-I didn’t know him very well. He was just my Spree driver for a day. But he was always nice to me.”

“He was also your kidnapper.”

“Like I said, he was a nice guy.” Your voice breaks. 

They’re all nice guys until they aren’t. 

“And you didn’t think to call the authorities when you were alone? Were you helping him lure these people?”

You can feel her eyes burning into you. 

“I’m not stupid,” you cry. “I know how this sounds. But I’m telling you, he gave me a ride and then he - all of this. Oh God.” 

You bring your shaky hands to run through your worn and tired face, specks of dried blood still prominent even through many washes with soap. It’s another way Kurt managed to stay with you. 

“Let’s start at the beginning,” she sits back with her arms folded. “And spare no detail.”

Before

He scrolls through your feed for the millionth time today.

Photos of you on your daily walks, exploring hidden LA gems, posting places you were shooting at, people you were hanging out with, all at the touch of a button for him. The bell notification alerts him, telling him that you’ve posted. He taps the screen in the blink of an eye, meeting your face as you giggle about falling while skating. 

You pout as you show the damage, remarking that it was lucky you weren’t shooting that day otherwise you would’ve had to cover up on such a hot day. 

In a vain industry, you try to keep yourself humble and that’s what he loves about you. Though he’s never met you, he thinks you could live up to the image he’s created of you. One that matches your optimistic and humorous one. 

He re watches your story, pausing at random moments where he screenshots and saves to his photos. His home screen is a shot of you in black and white, seemingly topless from chest down and looking back with an enticing smile. He loves the way your hair frames your face, the way pieces of it were meticulously picked out to give it a sort of messy look.

You could make anything look good, he thinks.

Bobby gives him a hard time about you, bragging about how he knows you and that although you’re more well known than he is, you are the one who should be grateful for his exposure.

Kurt thinks it’s bullshit but he wouldn’t be surprised if it were true, maybe you’d come around to meet him one day.

The vibration of a text brings him out of his daze, seeing Bobby’s name in big bold letters. 

He can’t believe his eyes when he opens the text. It’s an off guard video of you behind Bobby, giggling at something on your phone before noticing that he’s recording and flashing a cheeky smile and a peace sign.

“Found your girlfriend.” Bobby mocks before erupting into hysterical laughter.

Kurt replays it until his phone dies, Bobby’s words echoing in his head.

An idea pops into his head, it would be difficult if he didn’t know your exact routine but thanks to your fan accounts and the power of gossip blogs, it’s a definite success. 

He calls Bobby immediately, hearing him and his entourage in the background as they talked about a video idea. 

“What do you want, Kurt? I’m busy right now.” His annoyance is clear but Kurt is way too focused on you to notice.

“I need a favor.”

It’s amazing what the internet contains about a person. It’s also quite terrifying. Through just a few minutes of research, he’s found out your schedule along with where you went to school, where you live and your closest friends. 

In a photo Bobby had taken, the location of the next shoot you had taking place somewhere was barely visible.

He connects the dots, thinking about how your involvement could help him get  #TheLesson out and make him a household name. 

And it’s exactly what he does the day of. He parks near your neighborhood, foot bouncing and anxiously looking at his phone. He declines the others in hopes of finding you according to the schedule. You almost never use your real name on anything when going out but he recognizes your fake name and location, he puts the car into drive and talks himself up. 

He parks across the street, giving him a better view of you.  

His heart skitters when he sees you look in his direction, your brows quirk up as you give him an easy smile and cross carefully. 

You stop and bend to meet him at the passenger window, “Kurt, right?”

His name coming out of your mouth is something he’s dreamed of since he first saw you. He almost pinches himself to know if this is real. 

He knows he’s grinning like an idiot because you laugh at his speechlessness. 

“Sorry,” he motions to the backseat, “Hop in!” 

“I take it you know who I am.” 

You’re not oblivious to your recognition, but with some guys it was just always a hit or miss. They either wanted you to take your top off or asked for some weird things.

“Are you kidding? I’m like your biggest fan.” He beams, going back on the road. 

You’re not good at accepting compliments, so all you can manage is a shy smile and a, “Thanks!”

You notice his set up of cameras and ask him about it, to which he says they’re just for protection. Throughout the ride you learn more about him, particularly that he was going something the next day called The Lesson. He had a very particular view about this digital world you both lived in, talking about these odd jobs he’d been doing along with trying to build up his following. In between talking about himself, he mentions Bobby and the events of last night from the video. 

“Oh right, Bobby.” You roll your eyes at the mention of his name. 

Bobby was a pain in your ass sometimes, acting all high and mighty all the time and just like he was the overall shit. 

“Yeah he’s alright. He could just tone it down a little.”

“Oh yeah - definitely, he was the same when he was a kid. Just pure chaotic energy.”

“That’s one way to put it.”

In between other conversations, Kurt brought back the spotlight to you, asking you about different people you hung out with. It was pleasant conversation, you felt like you were talking to an old friend and letting off some steam. The red flags hadn’t gone off just yet. 

To let loose and make you live a little, Kurt races past a red light and nearly misses being in a collision. 

It startles you but he assures you there’s no danger. 

“You trust me right?” He asks, glancing back to you.

“I mean, yeah.” 

The confirmation is validation to him. It’s all he needed to begin.

He picks up another passenger, an older man who definitely did not hide the way he was staring at your body. You’re thankful for sitting a little father from him but when Kurt initiates conversation with him, everything goes downhill.

“I know you from somewhere.” The man points out, his obvious staring makes you cringe as you stay silent.

“You’re that model, I’ve seen your stuff around Westwood. Bangin’ body.”

You can feel the anger in your chest rise as Kurt finally notices.

“What’s going on?” He glances to the back, meeting your shifting eyes.

The man ignores him. “Sweetheart when someone compliments you, the nice thing to do is smile.”

That did it.

“Excuse me? I don’t owe you shit!” You grit.

“Whoa! Whoa! Sir you can’t be saying that anymore.” Kurt changes lanes, ready to stop if the situation gets worse.

“She should be proud she doesn’t look like her people. All of ‘em just fat and lazy.”

“Excuse me?! My people?” You’re sure you don’t look the least bit intimidating but it doesn’t matter. You were willing to kick this man’s ass if need be.

Kurt pulls off the the side of the road, “Alright, get out.” 

“What? No, I paid for this ride fair and square. I’m not leaving for shit. I can say what I want.” He says adamantly.

“Sir if you make those comments again I’m going to have to cancel the Spree.”

Something clicks in Kurt’s head as he remembers the water bottles. 

He motions for you to take the passenger seat which you do without much hesitation. 

Kurt waits a minute before merging again, glancing at the man every so often and taking more desolate streets. You don’t notice the absence of cars and you definitely don’t notice when the man takes a bottle and practically chugs it. 

Kurt smirks as he slows down. “Hey maybe you should let them know you’re not going to make it.”

Confused, you glance at Kurt and then at the man who’s now starting to grab at his throat and coughing violently.  

Your eyes widen as you attempt to get Kurt to stop the car but he doesn’t move, instead he keeps his eyes trained on the road.

“Kurt, stop the car.”

The man’s coughs get worse by the second and he turns a very bright red. 

“Kurt! Stop the car!” 

You’re frozen, helpless to watch the man as he tries to grab at Kurt from behind but coughs up blood and passes out in the backseat. You slink back in your seat, utterly terrified of what just happened. 

Adrenaline and fear course through you. You side eye Kurt who is not as affected by this as you are as he merely readjusts his camera. 

You begin to hyperventilate and try the passenger door. When it doesn’t budge you shut your eyes and cry.

“I won’t say anything. I won’t I promise. I promise, Kurt. Please.”

Kurt sighs as he retrieves a piece of cloth from his pocket. Your eyes widen as he comes close and pins you in your seat and smothers you with the cloth. You struggle under him, pushing against his chest to no avail. 

The smell of the chloroform inundates your senses and in a matter of seconds you feel your eyes roll back and everything go black. 

Once you’re knocked out, Kurt takes both your phone and the other passengers to knock suspicion off of him. He has plans for the racist prick in the back, but for you, he has much bigger plans.

[missmaxime]

Thoughts on the Death flashbacks: Having rewatched the episode again I really do feel like these flashbacks are a lead-in to the end of Beth and Dean’s relationship. I think it’s important to note when the three flashbacks are placed in the episode: right before and or after we focus solely on Beth, like she is reminiscing these three moments in time with him. Times she has fond memories of for good reasons, but at the same time show us the cracks in their relationship that we still see now. What are these pivotal moments? - Beth meets Dean for the first time - Dean asks Beth to prom - Dean meets Beth in the hospital on Prom Night #1 Lead-in to this flashback is the moment just seconds before Beth meets Dean while he’s in jail. Everything between them is at an absolute low, there’s even physically a wall between them. I’m not surprised they counter their burned out relationship by the exact moment it once ignited. Beth tries to remind herself in this episode about the good moments, but I think it’s also very telling those are moment from the first months of when they met – and not, say, when they got their first apartment, or had their first baby, or got married. In the flashback Dean strikes up conversation with Beth while his buddies start a food fight at the diner (Dairy Queen) she works at – perhaps even with an ulterior motive of distracting her while they wreak havoc. He does so by asking for a refill for something ridiculous, because if you’re not Ikea who gives refills for ice cream? But he’s got her attention. And if that attention was genuinely geared towards wooing her he could even have gone the corny way of complimenting her eyes, or her bright smile – but he chooses to focus on the fact that she’s a cheerleader.

This gets interrupted by his friends getting into the food fight, and Beth calls out for him to say something to his friends. In answer he joins into the fight and runs off with said friends, leaving Beth to clean the mess. A little later he returns (and with this, he also doesn’t lose face with his friends) to charm her with an apology and helping her out to clean the mess him and his friends made. Which, as we know, has been a recurring theme between them way into the future. (Not to fangirl out to much about this, but I’m living for the fact that Dean calls her Elizabeth at first, but when she correct him to Beth he goes with that. While Rio called her Elizabeth from the start, and she never corrected him on that.) It’s not hard to see why Beth falls for Dean here, even if we can see the patterns because we know the Beth and Dean from decades later. He’s handsome, witty, popular, the quarterback – and he’s interested in her. Sees her. While he’s the one who made the mess, he cleans it up, telling her that ‘he’s got it’. Something he can do now with spilled food, but we know he can’t when messes become grown-up messes. After the flashback we’re back in the jail, looking at Beth’s reflection in the glass as she stares at herself before Dean takes place in front of her. He’s understandably hurt and upset her actions got him there (and even more because she admits Rio was a part of the scheme all along). Even her voicing a desperate ‘I love you’ doesn’t make him stay, he’s done with her. She says she’ll ‘Fix it’ like Dean promised her in the flashback, but he’s not having it. In the final shot we zoom out, framing Beth with darkness – counter to the flashback where we zoom in on her smiling face. #2 Leading up to the second flashback Phoebe questions Dean, and tries to bribe him with some packs of ramen to tempt him into selling out Beth. She talks about the cheerleader she used to be friends with in high school, and how she got tossed aside when the girl didn’t have any use for her anymore when her Fake ID got taken away. Phoebe talks about how the girl is like Beth, using people and tossing them aside when they’re tired of them – Dean knows very well that’s not Beth at all, not in the context of him at least. In the flashback Dean comes to Beth’s house, where we learn he’s been leaving her a lot of messages. This is 1991 so we’re on analog phone time, not giving Beth an opportunity to see some caller ID, so if she doesn’t want to talk to Dean I don’t feel like it’s weird that Annie answered the phone to hear who’s calling. Annie’s obviously not a fan of him, but we don’t know whether that is because they’ve had some sort of fight or whether she doesn’t like the idea of Beth having a boyfriend altogether. I think this flashback really shows how both Dean and Beth are people who are very image-focused people, albeit for different reasons. Dean arrives in a flashy red sportscar to enhance his popular quarterback persona, Beth chooses to have the conversation outside to shield the outside world from the dire situation on the inside. Again Dean focuses on how Beth is not there for him. He called her five times, but doesn’t ask if she has something going on, or if she’s studying hard for a test, or if any of her friends are in trouble. He states that ‘she hasn’t been to any of the games’ – HIS games, not even shifting it to ‘I didn’t see you with your squad’. It’s all about him. His ‘I thought we were cool?’ entices her to come up with an excuse, doubling down with a ‘I don’t want to be a dick’, even if he clearly already is. Annie steps out of the house, visibly sporting yet another injury (she had her arm in a cast in the 2x08 flashback) and asks Beth about their mom’s meds. Two things Dean could just ask about, even if it’s just a flippant ‘oh, is your mom sick?’ or ‘did that monster hurt herself?’ because both could be explanations on why Beth hasn’t called him back. Yet he ignores all this and goes back to making her feel bad by putting the blame on him, casually working in the ‘oh I was going to ask you to prom?’ in a way like don’t bother if you’re not interested. It’s so unromantic the way he drops this, yet Beth latches on immediately because it’s a chance to do some normal teen stuff for a change and who can blame her if her days are spend taking care of her mom, raising her sister, going to school in the day and working a job in the evening. It’s a tactic Dean keeps using on her as an adult. Scene that comes to mind is that Dean already packed his bag, admits that he cheated on Beth with Gayle, and she’s like - fine, maybe don’t leave. Back in the jail Beth waits for him, but Dean has left a clear message that he doesn’t want to see her. #3 First we watch the girls wait for Eric to get arrested, but we all know how disastrous that ends. Her plan to frame Dean’s friend for her wrongdoings falls through, she failed him. Which piles onto the guilt that Dean’s in jail in the first place. It’s then she searches her brain for a moment when he was there for her, when she truly started feeling that he was going to be her rock. Beth’s waiting in the hospital, she’s not panicked or worried, rather annoyed and tired like this is yet the millionth time she’s here because her mother needed her stomach pumped. We still don’t know for sure what’s going on with the mom, but from 2x08 we know she spends lots of time laying in bed and needs meds, the stomach pumping indicates overuse of a drug (most common alcohol) – I’m leaning to depression combined with substance abuse – but we don’t know for sure. We also learn that the dad is not in the picture, or no one to rely on in the very least. It’s just Beth and Annie. Dean bribed Annie to tell him where Beth is – it’s prom night and he came to pick her up to go to the dance. Now there’s more than one way to read this scene. The first way is that Dean is genuinely concerned about this whole ordeal and he wants to be there for Beth, which is definitely the way young Beth must read into this. Another part of me thinks there’s some self-interest from Dean mixed in as well. If he didn’t go to Beth, he’d go to the prom, dateless – embarrassing for our quarterback star. But helping out your girlfriend with her sick mom is a great excuse to avoid that situation. We know how upset Dean got about being wifeless at the Spa Competition, Beth’s an asset to his image, her not being there breaks his image down. And I’m not saying he’s not interested in her, but from all the conversations we’ve seen them have in the flashbacks none of it really revolves around how Beth is doing. From the start their relationship has been around transactions. Image, deeds, quid pro quo. Even if you can read the ‘do you want anything from the vending machine?’ and the ‘your sister took all my money’ as something fun, it’s yet another reminder that he paid for her time. That she owes him, even if she really appreciates him being there for her. Back to Beth in the car with Eric and the girls, where our girl looks more than unhappy. Like Dean paid Annie to see her, she’s paying Eric to see Dean. Granted the stakes are immensely higher, but the juvenile situation carries on into the presence. While Eric comes up with even more terrible plans Beth’s getting increasingly emotional – which still could be interpreted many ways but I think she realizes that the normal from back then, the happiness Dean provided to her, it’s never coming back – plans executed correctly or not. Dean might still be that guy, but she’s not that girl anymore. Eric talks about how he’s invisible, and how that changed when Dean became his colleague. How beforehand no one saw him as him, but Dean made him feel like he was part of the work crew, called him by his name – it made him feel seen, made him feel like a real person. And that’s of course exactly what young Beth was feeling – she didn’t feel like a real person because no one saw her as Beth the teenage girl. She’s a caretaker for her mom, a mother figure to Annie – a cheerleader to Dean. But in the memory she can recognize that he made her feel like a real person. Eric proposes that ‘They don’t make ‘em like Dean Boland anymore’. And they don’t for him. But Beth also knows that the feeling wears off, that at some point Dean Boland won’t like you anymore when you don’t play the part he signed on for. Eric’s giving up everything to be a loyal friend, like Beth has for over two decades to be his loyal wife. And while she’s technically still his wife, she’s not loyal like she used to be – not financially, physically or emotionally. She doesn’t need Dean anymore to make her feel like a real person. She’s her own real person. --- Beth comes home to Fitzpatrick lounging in her kitchen like he belongs there, helping himself to a cup of tea. Our girl is already on edge what with the father of her kids possibly spending years behind bars, her plans miserably failing, and now this douche want even more of her time. She’s done playing a part to get what she needs, so she goes right to the point. Fitz touches on that she wants more out of her life, which is true. Unfortunately for him Beth has come to the point that no man – not like Dean did in the flashbacks – will do that for her anymore. She’s the one steering the ship, not some guy anymore. But while all these flashbacks Beth is experiencing might put some things in a different light to her, it doesn’t scrub away what Dean made her feel. Because he is the father of her kids, they are what will forever link them together, the connection they both care about deeply regardless of whatever troubled feelings they have towards each other. She might not be a true wife to him anymore, but they are parents to the same children. Her dad wasn’t there for her, but there’s no reason why Dean can’t be there for his kids. ---- So all in all I actually really liked seeing the flashbacks, especially because we experience them through Beth, and how they parallel with the now. In the final scene we see Phoebe looking at the perfect Boland family picture, the perfect image that they both crafted together. But hidden on the backside are the lies and the deceit, yet also Beth telling Dean how to take care of said family. Because she knows she can’t trust him to take care of it, unlike when they were teens and when she’d like to believe he could. Their real personas are on the table, and they don’t like each other anymore, can’t trust each other anymore. To me the final scenes read like the only thing they can still be: parents. I have no doubt they both love their kids, and those four humans will always bind them together, regardless of their relationship status. Beth is giving Dean the only genuine thing she can: her trust as a mutual parent, and the opportunity to enjoy the love of their kids. But it’s laced with melancholy, this is what’s left in the ruins, these four good things. Everything else is gone, and I think they both realize this. 

[basilhearsanoise]

Guardian Angels - Chapter 1

A Memory Formed, Then All but Wiped Away

Dean Winchester was born on a cold January morning in 1979, when the sun had not yet risen. He wouldn’t hear his name for a few years after that, though. You see, when Mary, Dean’s mother, found out she was pregnant, her husband John said, “We should name the kid after your folks. Always talk about how you miss ‘em. Be a good way to keep ‘em alive,” and Mary liked that idea very much.

So when the doctors told them they were going to have a baby girl - because doctors like to play god in these situations almost as much as God does - Mary knew that she would name the child after her mother. Deanna was a beautiful name, after all. It was only a few hours after they got home from that visit, however, that their two sons burst in from over 30 years in the future, and brought the preamble to the apocalypse with them. One of whom, they’ve seen before - as a hunter on a case, as a car enthusiast. As a man. Who says to her, “It’s kind of hard to believe. I’m your son.”

Mary doesn’t get to remember her son’s face for very long, because angels are meddlesome creatures and time travel doesn’t usually rest easy on the human psyche. But she finds herself thinking of the strange hunter who was there that night with the yellow-eyed demon. He’d really been trouble, but he’d tried so hard to help. Her memory of him became more sentimental, somehow, without her even really noticing the change. She wonders if that hunter was some kind of spirit, a ghost sent to warn her about that night. The night she tries to not ever think about, but yet, always comes crawling back to the front of her mind. It all seems to have so much - so much meaning, something more that she can’t quite put her finger on. Suddenly, she feels a cosmic presence in her life, and she knows, deep down, it’s because of her baby.

“I’m tellin’ you, this kid is gonna be somebody,” she says to John as she dotes over their newborn. “Isn’t that right?” She coos. “That’s right! You’ve got angels watching over you!”

—

“No. Dean,” Dean corrects his mother, chocolate melting in his tiny three-year-old hands. It’s all over his face. Some of it’s in his hair, too, like tar stuck to a bail of hay. His voice is garbled, a toddler unable to properly enunciate to save his life, but still, alarmingly clear and concise.

Mary, exhausted, at her wit’s end, holds the dress out to him for the millionth time. “Deanna, pl—“

“No!” Dean is more hurt, now, and the tantrum is well on its way. “I won’t! I don’ like it!” The rest is mostly unintelligible screaming. Smearing his chocolate all over the dress, he turns and runs, crying.

John tries to pick him up and cradle him but he kicks and yells and punches. They have to have a talk about violence after that, that it’s not nice to hit and scream. It’s the first and last conversation on the topic Dean will ever get from his parents.

Not long after that, the preschool calls, says Dean has “caused a scene in class.” They tried to separate the boys and girls for a game, and he went with the boys. When they tried to stop him, he threw a fit and had to be excused for the rest of the day. And then the next day, and the next, and the next.

Mary and John are at a loss. Their son is insisting he is their son, but like any parent, they are having trouble believing it. Mary thinks about the hunter from that night more and more now. What did he say his name was again? There was something so familiar about all of this, almost like Mary was back on an old hunting case. But no, she gave that up…she couldn’t call any of her contacts and see if they know anything about her kid…could she?

…Ring, ring.

“Hello Mary,” Missouri answers, the grin already apparent in her voice.

No matter how many times she did that, it always freaked Mary out, just a little. But at least you knew she was the real deal as soon as she picked up the phone.

“Hi Missouri, it’s good to speak to you.”

“Mm. I don’t think it is. At least, the subject matter doesn’t seem like it will be good.” Missouri twiddles the phone cable around her finger. “John’s not going to like it. You’ll warm up to it though. I’ll be over soon.”

Click.

Laughing, but mostly out of shock, Mary puts down the receiver. After all this time, you’d think she’d stop being surprised by how good Missouri is. But that level of psychic ability is uncanny enough to throw anyone through a loop. Better make sure John would be gone that afternoon. She was not ready to explain this to him.

When Missouri walks in, she throws her arms around Mary warmly. “Now,” she asks, looking around. “It’s been so long since I’ve seen you Mary, I haven’t even met your boy. Go and fetch him, I want to meet him before we get down to whatever nasty business you called about.”

Mary pulls the sides of her mouth back in a gesture that could only be interpreted as: yikes.

“Missouri, I…I don’t quite know how to say this, but our…” The words feel strange in her mouth, but what’s really strange is that…she thought they’d feel stranger. “….my son…is what I called about.”

Missouri raises an eyebrow.

“Is there something wrong with him? I haven’t sensed any evil presences in the house.”

Mary still doesn’t quite know what to say, stutters a little.

Perplexed, but intrigued, Missouri says, “Well go and get him. I’ll see for myself.”

With a shrug, Mary goes to the kitchen. “Honey…put down your toys, Mommy wants you to meet a friend.”

Dean waddles into the living room, still clutching his favorite toy car. He clings to his mother’s skirt, but waves at Missouri, who looks him up and down from his dirty shoes to the top of his baggy overalls.

“What have you got there?” She asks.

“Vroom!” Dean answers, showing her how the car shoots forward when you wind the wheels back on the floor.

Missouri laughs heartily in agreement. “Yes, sweetheart. What a lovely toy. It’s nice to meet you, Dean.”

His little eyes shimmer up at her, his face slowly peeling into a wide, wide grin. He giggles and keeps playing with his car.

Mary stares at Missouri in disbelief, opens her mouth to speak, but can’t find words. She slowly sits down on the couch. Dean follows his car back into the kitchen and can be heard vrooming about the house. For a moment that’s all the noise there is, until Mary can finally gather herself enough to say, “Missouri, I…I don’t understand.”

Missouri walks over and sits next to her, gently takes her hand. “Mary, you know that there are things in this world that are not easy to understand at first, but that doesn’t make them any less real.”

“Well, yes,” Mary replies, flustered, afraid. “Ghosts, ghouls…but you’re not saying he’s a monster, are you?”

Missouri’s expression darkens a little. “The world will surely tell you he is one. But nothing could be further from the truth. People like Dean have always existed, just like people like me have always existed. It’s perfectly natural. Most people just don’t believe we’re real.”

Mary is still completely at a loss. Missouri squeezes her hand. “Your son is transgender, Mary,” she continues gently. “I can see into his soul and see that he’s a little boy, just like any other, except he’s in a world that can’t see him the way I can.”

It’s as if someone took a needle and jabbed it into Mary’s brain. Flashes of Dean’s adult face begin to swim through her mind.

“I’m your son.”

Could these memories be real or was she going mad? It was all so overwhelming. She throws her arms around Missouri and begins to sob. Missouri can sense that something in her mind has opened up, that had been locked tight, and it unnerves her to think what could have turned the key. She holds her dear friend close until she can recover enough to catch her breath.

“What do I do?” Mary whimpers, looking towards the kitchen, towards Dean.

“You love him,” Missouri replies. “You respect him.”

“H-…how?”

“Well…” Missouri tries her best to be matter-of-fact. “First you have to talk to John and get him on board.” Mary’s eyes roll a little. Getting John to change his mind about anything was going to be a hassle. “Then…you call the school. Tell them to call him by the right name. Tell your friends to call him by the right name…not much else to it, darling.”

“But…what happens when…he grows up? How will…”

“I have some friends who might be able to help you,” Missouri says warmly. “But you can cross that bridge when you come to it. It’s all about doing what’s necessary now, and simply listening is the most important thing when children are young. Follow his lead, honey. He knows what he needs.”

Dean runs into the living room again. “Mommy, sammich?” He beams.

Mary can’t help but laugh as she wipes away her tears. Dean notices and instantly hugs her knees. “Don’t cry, mommy,” he pleads. “I love you.”

“I love you too…Dean,” Mary shakily replies, rustling his hair the way she always does.

Dean looks up, his face somehow happier than before. He reaches up to her in the way all toddlers do when they want to be held, and she scoops him up into her arms. Missouri smiles at the sight.

“You want a sandwich?” Mary asks her, still processing, but trying to inject some humor into the situation now.

“That sounds lovely,” Missouri answers. “I think I’ll have mine with the crusts cut off, too. That’s your favorite, isn’t it, Dean?”

“Yes!” Dean gurgles happily as Mary places him at the kitchen table.

“Alright, three sandwiches, hold the crust, comin’ right up,” Mary laughs. Later, she knew things were going to get messy. But for now, they could all sit down and enjoy a nice snack.

[willddheartt]

High | Randall Carpio

Summary: The one where you're trying to forget Randall after breaking up.

Inspired by: Stay High - Tove lo

Warnings: Angst, sad, idk 

Word count: 1729

Masterlist

I eat my dinner in my bathtub, then I go to sex clubs Watchin' freaky people gettin' it on It doesn't make me nervous if anything, I'm restless Yeah, I've been around and I've seen it all

Since you left him there hasn’t been one day where you haven’t regretted it. Of course, you were still living in the university’s dorms which made things even harder. No matter what you did it seemed like wherever you went there he was, in our form or another. 

There hasn’t been one day in two months where you’d been 100% sober, it was the only way you could stop thinking about him and what you did. You knew it was a problem, but you didn’t care. It didn’t matter to you that out of all the combination of drugs you consumed at any party you could find could one day be deadly, it didn’t bother you because nothing seemed to matter anymore.

I get home, I got the munchies, binge on all my Twinkies Throw up in the tub, then I go to sleep And I drank up all my money, dazed and kinda lonely

It was a loop every night. Once you’ve run out of things to distract you through the day, start pregame drinking as you’re getting ready to go out to the clubs for the night, and lose yourself in the bodies. The odd time you’d come home with a meaningless fling, but mostly you came home alone, and once you’ve run out of things to keep you numb, fall asleep.  It felt like everything was just something to take the pain away and then give you some once it was gone, a never-ending cycle. The only constant thing was the endless pain and void you felt in your heart. It was your fault, you knew that but you made a mistake, one you cant now take back and fix.

You're gone and I gotta stay high All the time, to keep you off my mind Ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh, ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh

“Alyssa, please just use that weird dust shit on me, make me forget,” You begged for the millionth time. Her answer was always the same, “No.” “Why not?” You sighed, but you knew, she’d told you every time you asked  “Because the pain and hurting will still be there, you just won’t remember the source of it.”  “Maybe that’s better," You huffed, leaning back into the couch.  “Who hurt you this bad anyway?” Alyssa asked  “Who did I hurt is the proper question,” You replied shaking your head as you brought the beer bottle up to your lips.  “Who did you hurt?” The blonde asked. She asked you every time you begged her you flick some of that magic dust on you to make you forget, but you haven’t yet told her because to you if you say it out loud and tell another person it makes it too real. “Someone who didn’t deserve me,” You replied 

Finally, the alcohol from the frat party started kicking in, and you were granted the false sense that everything was alright and nothing was going to hurt in the morning. 

High, all the time, to keep you off my mind Ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh, ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh Spend my days locked in a haze, tryna forget you, babe I fall back down  Gotta stay high, all my life, to forget I'm missin' you Ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh, ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh

You’d been through this loop multiple times. Feel like you’re on top of the world with some disposable guy at a party, come home, have the effects of the alcohol wear off feel everything too much, pass out. 

That’s how this was supposed to go, but tonight was different. After running into Alyssa as she was passing through the frat party, she refused to let you’re out of her sight. Even now, after she had walked you back to your dorm, she was by your side when you broke down crying and everything came pouring out.  “I fucked up big time, Alyssa.” You cried, “And I’ll never be able to fix it or make it right.”  “No, you didn’t” She was quick to comfort you, pulling you into a tight hug, “Whatever it was I’m sure there’s a way you can fix it, by regular means or magical,”  “You don’t understand,” You shook your head, “I’ll never be able to forgive myself for how I hurt Randall,” 

Alyssa froze the grip that was pulling you towards her loosened and she finally understood. You and Randall never told anyone you were together, you liked thinking your relationship was just something for you and him, enjoying the secret of it all. Nobody noticed when you were together but it became very clear that something happened after the split. 

“He probably hates me now,” You mumbled, pulling out of her hug and leaning your elbows on your knees. “I know I would,” You scoffed “He could never hate you, you know Randall,” Alyssa said, you shook your head, “Why don’t you try talking to him,” The girl suggested She knew first hand he didn’t have one negative feeling towards you. Sure Randall was going through the normal shit one would after an unexpected breakup, but he could never hate you no matter what you did. The thing he wanted the most was an explanation, why you left and did he do anything to hurt you. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt or make you uncomfortable. 

Admittedly, some nights were better than others. You could have all the fun you wanted and not think about the brunette at all. Yet others were the worst where no matter what you did or what substances you consumed, Randall was still the only person on your mind. Tonight was bordering on one of the bad ones. 

Pick up daddies at the playground, how I spend my day time Loosen up their frown, make 'em feel alive I make it fast and greasy, I'm numb and way too easy

Another night, another party, another temporary escape.  Tonight you were at the party specifically to find a fling. You thought that since drugs and alcohol weren’t doing much anymore, something more could help.  At least that was until you saw his face through the crowd. You wondered if he’d spotted you, but from how he didn’t look away, or even pretend to not be staring, you answered your own question. 

Finding a getaway in the bathroom you sighed, leaning up against the door. Tonight was supposed to be the night you finally let him go and made yourself move on, but there he was like you weren’t supposed to forget. 

Staying in my play pretend, where the fun ain't got no end Oh, can't go home alone again, need someone to numb the pain Oh, staying in my play pretend, where the fun ain't got no end Oh, can't go home alone again, need someone to numb the pain

Going about the rest of the night, dancing with a multitude of strangers yet there was still only one person occupying your thoughts. With each drink, he only became more and more prominent. The nagging inside you to go find the sweet brunette wouldn’t stop and only got louder with each new stranger.  You were getting a new drink from the kitchen, and if the timing was perfect, there he was. 

“Y/n,” Randall said while the two of you were frozen in the sight of the other.  You didn’t know what to say, you were speechless. You knew you owed him an apology, an explanation but in the moment neither of those seemed to come to you. “Randall,” You whispered, eyes immediately tearing up. Before any tears could start streaming down your cheeks, the taller boy pulled you into a tight hug, it took all you had to not completely lose it in his arms. Every ounce of concentration you had gone to trying to make the growing ball in your throat go away.

“I’m sorry,” You whispered, causing him to pull away.  “You don’t have to apologize,” Randall shook his head, “Then what can I do?”  “Come back,” He looked at you with glassy eyes, tears brimming them. 

Without putting another thought into it, as you blinked your tears away once more, you crashed your lips onto his. Your tears mixed in with the kiss but neither of you could notice, with your hands in his hair and his on your hips you pulled one another as close as you could. Pulling away you leaned your forehead against his and closed your eyes, feeling at home in his embrace. He kissed the tip of your nose, making your eyes open again. 

“What do you say we get out of here?” Randall whispered with his smirk that you haven’t seen in so long, you nodded letting him lead you out of the crowded house, you’d let him lead you anywhere without a second thought. 

You're gone and I gotta stay high All the time, to keep you off my mind Ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh, ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh High, all the time, to keep you off my mind Ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh, ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh Spend my days locked in a haze, tryna forget you, babe I fall back down  Gotta stay high, all my life, to forget I'm missin' you Ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh, ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh

You stumbled in your dorm with Randall on your heels, kicking the door shut behind him. The moment the door slammed shut his lips were on yours, you were all over each other, barely even pulling away to breathe. Pulling away just long enough for the both of you to pull your shirts over your head and throw them somewhere in the room.  Your knees hit the edge of your bed, sending you falling backwards onto the soft mattress, pulling Randall with you. He hovered over you as your hand came up to cup his cheek, your thumb brushed over his cheekbone and he leaned into your touch. 

“I am so sorry,” You whispered  “Just don’t leave again,” Randall whispered back, you nodded and he laid down next to you.  As you pulled your duvet over the two of you Randall pulled you into his chest. This was something you missed too much. 

“I love you,” He whispered, it was just barely audible for you to hear it  You kissed his chest and smiled, “I love you too,”

[tryingmybestpls]

A Change of Heart

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Summary: Reader needs to tell Steve some important news, but as she watches Steve get ready to put the stones back, something feels wrong.

Rating: T?

Word Count: 1.5k

Warnings: some fucks, angst, no bueno time

A/N: This is my first one shot so I’m sorry if it sucks. Hope you enjoy!

Worry was currently gnawing at your stomach, making your insides twist and turn. You wish that you didn’t come today, wish that you made up some excuse. Then again, Steve himself had asked if you were going to come today to see him off. You could never say no to the super solider.

Ever.

“You alright? You look a little green around the gills.” Sam questions and you swallow down the bile that attempts to rise up in your throat. You stroke the skin where your thumb meets your hand, hoping that the old remedy actually works today. Can you fucking relax? Please?

“Peachy, Wilson. Fucking peachy.” You mutter, your eyes staying on Steve as he goes over the plan with Bruce for the millionth time. You had no reason to worry. Steve was going to go in, put back the stones, and come back. Then, then you could tell him what you found out when you had went to go get your injuries checked out after Thanos returned.

There hasn’t been a right time in the past few days, but it was slowing dawning on you that there might not ever be a right time to tell him. There would never be a perfect situation for you to tell him this unexpected news. You held in the sigh you so desperately wanted to let out, deciding to pay attention to what Bruce was saying.

“...Remember, you have to return the stones to the exact moment you got ‘em or you’re going to open up a bunch of nasty alternative realities.” Bruce reminds Steve, opening the special case with his non-burned hand. You shoved your hands a little deeper into your pockets, trying to look as calm and collected as Sam. Steve nods, shutting the case and locking it.

“Don’t worry, Bruce. Clip all the branches.” Steve responds as you shift on your feet. You just want him to get over with so you can tell him what’s been weighing on your shoulders.

“You know, I tried. When I had the gauntlet, the stones-I really tried to bring her back. I miss her man.” Bruce confides in Steve and suddenly you feel like an asshole for even being there, listening to this obviously private conversation. You look to the helicopters in the distance, watching them as they clean up the mess Thanos and his army had made.

“Me too.” Steve tells your fellow teammate. You turn your attention onto Bucky, who is standing next to the platform as you and Sam walk on either side of Steve. Before the snap, back when you guys were on the run, Steve, Sam and you were all thick as thieves. However, five years can really change a person and but luckily it hasn’t changed this.

“You know, if you want, I could come with you.” Sam announces and it brings a smile to your face. That uneasiness starts to loosen its hold on you, just for a second until Steve stops to look at Sam.

“You’re a good man, Sam. This one’s on me, though.” Steve replies and you clear your throat slightly.

“It doesn’t have to be, Steve.” You say and he turns his head to look at you. Those gentle blue eyes are as soft as ever as he smiles at you. For a moment, it feels like it’s just you and him. You should’ve told him last night when you two were entangled in bed, but you had savored the moment too much. You didn’t want to ruin it with your confession.

“What? You losing your hope in me, doll?” Steve questions and you can’t help but grin. The butterflies his smile gives you are trying to fly around in your stomach, but it’s just too knotted up.

“Of course not. It just doesn’t hurt to have a helping hand.” You retort as his eyes seemingly study your face. You two have never been the ones for PDA. The two of you had chosen to keep your relationship a secret these past five years, deciding that no one but you two needed to know. No one really knew it was more than just harmless flirting, so when Steve leaned down and kissed you softly, you just knew something was wrong. He would never just kiss you in front of other people.

“You really shouldn’t worry about me, Y/N. I’ll be fine.” Steve murmurs to you, cupping your cheek with his glove covered hand, his thumb brushing against your cheek one. You try to smile back at him, nodding slightly as he pulls his hand away. You watch as he walks over to Bucky, your feet rooted in place.

“Don’t do anything stupid till I get back.” Steve says as Sam comes to stand next to you. You’re sure he has a million questions to ask what has happened between

“How can I? You’re taking all the stupid with you.” There’s no humor in Bucky’s tone and you get a sinking feeling in your gut. When they embrace, you know that’s something is wrong. You’re suddenly glad you already threw up your breakfast.

“Gonna miss you, buddy.” Bucky tells Steve as they pull away and you wish you could run away from all of this.

“It’s going to be okay, Buck.” Steve responds before turning away from Bucky and climbing up the steps to the platform. He activates the quantum suit, preparing for what’s about to happen.

“How long is this going to take?” Sam questions, looking at both you and Bruce.

“For him, as long as he needs. For us, five seconds.” Bruce answers and you just give a simple nod, fearing that if you open your mouth you’ll just make a mess of things. You’re standing in between Sam and Bucky now, the three of you looking up at Steve as he picks up mjölnir.

“Ready, Cap?” Bruce asks as Steve turns his head to look at the jolly green giant. Steve doesn’t say anything, just nods as Bruce continues to speak, “Alright, we’ll meet you back here.”

“I’ll be back.” Steve announces before the helmet comes over his face. You reach out blindly, grabbing ahold of Sam’s hand. He’s a little surprised, especially since you haven’t been known to show affection, but he squeezes your hand regardless. Your heart is beating fast in your chest and you know that both super soldiers can hear it.

“Going quantum in three, two, one.” And just like that, Steve’s gone. You try to calm down, trying to keep everything together.

“And returning in five, four, three, two, one.” Bruce flips the switches, hits the correct buttons and-Steve isn’t there.

“Where is he?” You ask, your voice wavering as you look at Bruce. You let go of Sam’s hand, dropping it like it burned you.

“I-I don’t know. He blew right by his time stamp. He should be here.” Bruce tries to explain. It suddenly feels like your underwater, everything Sam and Bruce are saying are muted as you sit down on the steps of the platform. Bucky’s walking off and it dawns on you that he knew. He fucking knew. His voice suddenly cuts through the silence.

“Y/N. Sam.” Bucky gets your attention and you shakily stand. Your legs somehow carry you over to where Bucky is standing. By the lake sits a man that doesn’t look like your Steve, not by a long shot. Your eyes drift down to see the shield leaning up against the bench the man is sitting on as the three of you walk towards him.

“Go ahead.” Bucky says, smiling slightly as he motions to Sam. You’re not even the first choice. Sam walks toward as hands move to rest on your still flat stomach. Bucky glances at you, seeing the movement of your hand. It takes him a second to put two and two together.

“I’m guessing he doesn’t know.” Bucky murmurs to you, not wanting to say it too loud for the other men to hear. You desperately try to blink away your tears as you face forward, not glancing at the man beside you.

“There was never a good time to tell him.” The voice that’s leaving your mouth sounds foreign to you as tears start to roll down cheeks as Bucky nods at Sam. The Falcon picks up Steve’s shield and you quickly wipe away your tears.

“It’s your turn.” Bucky announces, his eyes on you as Sam walks back to where you two are standing, shield in hand. You can’t move your feet. This feels like a nightmare and you desperately want to wake up. You shake your head, stumbling backwards. Both Sam and Bucky look at you worriedly.

“I can’t-I just can’t. Tell him-Tell him I’m sorry.” You stumble over your words as emotion tightens your throat. You feel sick to your stomach. You turn on your heel and just walk away from the whole situation. You can hear them calling your name as walk further and further into the woods. You needed to get out of here.

You had inadvertently fucking ruined everything by not telling him before he left. Maybe he would’ve stayed, maybe things would’ve been okay. But now-Now you were fucking running away. Deep down you knew that you should tell him. He deserves to know that you are carrying his child. The other part of you knew that there was no way that this goes well for either you or your unborn child.

You two were fucked and really had no one to blame but yourself.

[bakugous-abs]

Hey, can I request a protective/big brother Dabi with a younger LOV member(nb) when he realises they're in a toxic relationship? I just think he'd be like the best kind of brother you know? thanks!!

~Admin Blue

~~~

- much as he’d love to deny it he’d come to care about you after your recruitment. He’d never say it and rarely showed it if anyone was around but the times he’d ended up bandaging you up or saving your ass during missions proved it.

- Hiding things from anyone in the league was near impossible. Dabi was no exception. So, naturally, he’d noticed you looking more and more worn down as time passed, even in the lulls between missions.

- He doesn’t outright ask until you look worse than ever as you sit there on the bar stool, absentmindedly stirring your drink and sighing for the millionth time that day. So, finally, curiosity (definitely not concern, nope) gets the best of him and he set shis own drink down hard enough to snap you out of it.

- “Right. Something’s eating at you. Spill.”

- Even if you try to convince him nothing’s going on he’s not even going to entertain your attempt to convince him.

- So, finally, you cave and explain. The entire relationship was a wreck. The constant ups and downs and extreme, dangerous instability of both the relationship and your partner had you on edge whenever you were going to meet up. Not to mention you were sure cheating to some extent had gone on. But you’d spent so much of your time trying to make things work with them already… It was draining. You were tired in every sense of the word.

- There’s a beat of silence during which Dabi simply looks at you before quirking an eyebrow. “You can kick their ass without breaking a sweat,” he says, as if it were an average, every day reminder. “Sounds like they deserve it.”

- Usually the fact that that would inevitably draw attention to you would stop him from suggesting it but as much as he tries to stomp it down there’s a rush of protectiveness as you tell him about you and your partner’s last fight.

- He’d chalk it off to the fact that he’d seen you join as a less than noteworthy stray and watched you grow into a force to be reckoned with as time had passed.

- Ah, fuck it, he was proud that the “stray” he’d recruited had gotten so strong.

- When you don’t really respond he decides to push a little more. “I can take care of them for you.”

- If you decide not to go that route he’ll sit there with you for a while and let you keep spilling out everything you’ve bottled up before he starts speaking again, clapping a hand on your back for just a second before he starts up.

- “You don’t need them. And they don’t deserve you. Dump ‘em.” It’s worded like a suggestion but his tone makes it clear that at the very least it’s a very strong one.

- A suggestion that he won’t stop offering every time you start looking worse until you finally take it.

- If you accept, well, it’ll be one of those missions he doesn’t mind taking care of that much. Sure, you can more than fend for yourself but he’ll make sure it’s not a mistake your (ex) partner makes again with anyone.

[i-need-air]

Hey babeee , this event is so exciting ! I’d like a 💘 and a 💗+ bakugou hehe 😉 I’m a 5’3 girl, with brown eyes and brown hair with some highlights haha I’d say I’m petite with small hands and feet, but I got a booty (working out hard for it, with my Greek genes helping😇) . I’m pretty determined , working hard for my goals (with LOTS of procrastination tho) but I get it done, I have hella trust issues and a few close friends, but I love them to bits . I’m also quite foul mouthed, I love football and boys’ stuff like that , I feel they understand me more. I’m a great listener, although I say the things as they are without sugarcoating it(some Scorpio shit right there). I hate fights with loved ones because I’m quite emotional, but I’ll speak out when I need to. Also I love food and cooking, I’m a Chemistry major, I drink my coffee black and I love traveling and the beach.

That’s all I guess! I hope it wasn’t too much , I got carried away...Thanks so much for your time you’re amazing ❤️❤️❤️

Oooh, a scorpio lady! You guys are a force to reckon, istg. I feel you'd be great with someone calm and open about their feelings, very honest. So I'm considering Izuku but Hawks is close by!

Midoriya:

× He's honest and a little sentimental, so idk how much you really like that but trust me, you'd be so good with someone like him. A soft man that just genuinely loves you to bits and will do everything for you. He's the type of man to give you independence and trust your decisions wholeheartedly because knows you're capable.

× The fact that you work for what you want and have clear goals for the future is something he respects a lot about you. You inspire him and his motivation plus drive will definitely push you to go further and further in life.

× Trust with him comes easy and know he's loyal and always there for you.

× Your somewhat brash and straightforward attitude can be easened by his borderline anxious way of being kind [lmfao sorry Izu]. You'd balance each other out. He's just as good of a listener as you are and genuinely appreciates blunt words bc he knows you don't mean to hurt him. Communication is incredible between the two of you.

× Finds you adorable? Your small hand in his big, scarred one???? He goes soft for you. Legit, apart from that, he will always give you a soft smile every time you're minding your own business because he realizes for the millionth time how truly special you are.

× Babey will take you to his beach for dates, ok? I just thought of that and it made me be all 🥺💞💕

[💗]Bakugou:

× Mad respect for working hard for those goals in life. Baku isn't all about just heroes, as long as you work towards a solid plan and give it your all? Nods in Baku-approval

× The fact that you're both similar in your trust issues [he got em, don't lie to me] and have a close but small friend-circle is actually great. You're both selective with the people you surround yourselves with. Likes that about you and knows to trust your decision. Will stand your friends but that's it, and it's a lot considering he barely stands his, lmfao—

× Foul mouth x Foul mouth 💀 It's either that you bicker like old people OR you take the shit at others and istg, this man enjoys both but he's a sadist sO.

× You would butt heads though. Nothing to worry about. Loves your passion and personality so it's nothing big. Bakugou is an Aries [with some Taurus traits; april 20 oof] and with a scorpio you'd need to work on your communication with him cuz he's gonna need some sugarcoating [not always. Bakugou likes honesty and bluntness but about some more serious topics he's more... fragile and needs some dancing around first]

× I feel cooking dates or just eating together would be your couple thing, you know? Doesnt have much time to go on actual dates or traveling but this routine brings him joy and calmness.

[youwerenevermeanttofeelalone]

Stretching | Bucky Barnes

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Plus Size Reader

Word Count: 3.6k

Modern AU

Request(s): can you write a fic about bucky barnes going out on a date with his s/o, but when they get there the waiter is acting a little too friendly and bucky gets mad and make them go home early and teaches his s/o a lesson? & can you do one where ps reader has a lot of one night stands so her mom sets her up with someone to stop her because she’s worried and the person she sets her up with is bucky and they had a ons in the past?

Warnings: jealousy, a hint of possessiveness, smut, unprotected sex (please don’t do this), fluff.

A/N: this is my second smut! Please let me know how good or bad that part is.

Gif credit: @sebastiansource

❖︎・・・・・❖︎・・・・・❖︎・・・・・❖︎

Shaken awake quite harshly, you instinctively pulled the covers over your head to keep the light from enhancing your headache. The material was priced off your hands, the air making you shudder as it hit your bare skin.

Your mom scoffed, opening your closet to pick some clothes for you. Throwing them on top of your stomach, she ordered, “take a shower and get dressed. Quickly.”

You dreaded quick showers after a night out and being woken up when you had stayed up late, and when your mom visited unprompted. In fact, you couldn’t find anything positive about the situation you were in.

She had made herself comfortable in the living room, but as you approached her you saw how angry she was. Two steaming cups rested on the center table — that was a bad sign, your mom only overheated beverages when she was truly furious.

As soon as you sat down, she held a piece of paper in your field of vision. You read an unknown phone number and a very familiar name. Lifting your hand to take the paper from your mom’s grasp, you sighed in exasperation as she not only took the paper away from you but ripped it.

“You can’t continue doing this!”

“Did you really come just to chastise me?”

It had always been hard for her to understand you, too worried about how people would perceive you instead of how you perceived yourself. Your mom herself had prejudices against your lifestyle — well, love life, but you were more than happy with it. You finally had control over who you liked and with who you got sexually involved.

“You’re wasting your life and your time,” your mom repeated the same chastising comment she made every time she saw you. “I can’t continue seeing you ruin everything for a few minutes of... carnal pleasure.”

The fact that she didn’t call it sex amused you yet you kept it to yourself. “Mom, we’ve talked about this.”

“And you still don’t understand,” she stated, picking the cup closer to her. “But I have a solution.”

“I’m not joining a covenant,” you reminded her.

Your mom glared at you from behind her cup, swallowing the liquid loudly as she put down the ceramic. “I know someone who would be perfect for you, and it’s not God.” Her tone shifted, “his name is James, he’s very nice, handsome, and hardworking.”

Her giddiness while speaking about this James guy was alarming. Your taste in people had never matched your mom’s, the way she described him was nice, basic in what anyone wanted in a partner, but the dreamy tone of her voice wasn’t encouraging.

“Give me his number and I might call him,” you opted for saying, not wanting to fight over the same thing for the millionth time.

“No need, your cousin and I set you up for a blind date next Friday.” She smirked, very proud of herself.

The covenant sounded better, honestly. Your mom had the tendency of giving people a tame idea of the kind of person you were, the date was set to be a disaster.

❖︎・・・・・❖︎・・・・・❖︎・・・・・❖︎

You didn’t give your mom details of the first date. She had arranged for the date to be at a restaurant near your workplace so you didn’t have any excuse to not attend.

Your mom’s adamancy in you finding a partner as quickly as possible bothered you, but the idea of having a formal relationship wasn’t bad at all. It was the only reason why you hadn’t fought her on it, maybe she was right and it was time to at least try and give romance another chance.

The restaurant had been packed, as you had imagined it would be. After you were guided to your table, to where your date was already waiting for you, you had to keep yourself from reacting in shock. James wasn’t only handsome but unforgettable. It had taken you a moment to find a way to greet him, you hadn’t been sure if you wanted him to remember you or not seeing as you hadn’t called him again after a one night stand.

Thankfully, he hadn’t shown signs of recognizing you and both of you introduced yourselves as if it was the first time you had met. You were even more thankful for how easy he was to talk to and be around, the phase of getting to know people was always tedious yet he made it not only easy but enjoyable and fun.

At that moment, a few dates later, you were hearing hin rant about how crazy his best friend was driving him, sat in front of him in a booth at a coffee shop. You usually did some work there when you didn’t want to be alone at home and had told him about it through text — he surprised you by saying he would meet you there and arrived fifteen minutes later or so.

Upon giving you a coffee refill, the waiter placed a slice of cake on the table. “On the house, ma’am,” he said, cheekily smiling at you.

James sighed heavily in front of you. Clearing your throat, you acknowledged the server, “thank you, Benny.”

The waiter bowed, looking straight at your cleavage as he retreated. Your date took a gulp of coffee. Putting the cup down more loudly than he intended, James shifted on his seat.

“Does that happen often? Because It’s the second time today.”

Your brow twitched in confusion, “second time of what?”

“That he flirts with you.”

“Not every person who acts friendly is flirting.”

He lifted both eyebrows, not amused at all. “He stared at your chest.”

“It’s a free country, James,” you teased him, looking at him through your lashes.

Bucky leaned forward, resting his forearms on the table to prop himself. You were sure he was doing it on purpose. His jaw was clenched, eyes boring into yours for a few seconds before he dropped them to your cleavage too.

“You know what? We should leave,” he said suddenly. “It’s a nice night for taking a walk and you need to stretch.”

Wordlessly, you stored your laptop back into its case. He offered his hand for you to hold it. Complying once your coat was on, you felt him intertwine his fingers with yours.

As you walked toward the entrance, Bucky bumped into someone. “Goodbye, Benny, have a good night.”

Keeping yourself from rolling your eyes, you too wished the server a good night.

Bucky was full of shit, the night was cold and humid. The two of you walked a couple of blocks in silence until he tugged on your hand to make you halt your steps. He flagged down a cab, opening the door for you to get in first.

You did so, greeting the driver and giving him directions to get to your building. Bucky placed his hand on your thick thigh, reminding you of how he had done the same the night you met him at that bar but he didn’t say anything, he was very busy looking out of the window.

Traffic was a nightmare so you got bored. Taking your cellphone out, you lost time by scrolling down Twitter. Bucky’s hand squeezed your thigh, sliding up as he got closer.

Locking the device, you acknowledged him. “So much for stretching, huh.”

He huffed a laugh, leaning to kiss your cheek. As his lips dragged against your skin, he spoke, “oh, you’ll stretch. I promise.”

Turning your head to face him, you looked into his eyes. They were intensely on your face, you couldn’t place what it was hiding behind his gaze but it rooted deeply, making the ocean blue of his eyes appear steely.

Forgetting where you were, you pressed your lips to his. Bucky’s hand left your thigh to wrap his arm around you, skipping the chasteness of the other kisses you had shared and holding you as flush to his chest as the position you both were in allowed you.

You weren’t complaining. You ruined his perfectly combed hair as you threaded your fingers through it while kissing him passionately.

With his arm around your waist and fingers drumming against you, he anxiously waited for the elevator to stop at your floor. You were making small talk with your neighbor, sweetly answering their questions about your work, with your own hand on Bucky’s back.

You weren’t done locking the door from the inside when he was again all over you. Peeling off your coat, he quickly worked on undoing your blazer and shirt, finger fumbling as his mouth sucked on your neck.

Bucky buried his face in the exposed section of your breasts, pulling you closer with both arms in order to get rid of your pants. You extended a hand to take his sweater off but he tsked on your skin.

“Hands to yourself, doll,” he commanded, palms softly caressing your ass.

A whine escaped you, “Bucky, please.”

He lifted his face, “now I’m Bucky? Because earlier,” he spoke slowly, taunting you with his voice and touch as his hands now groped. “Earlier I was James. Remember, baby?”

“Your name is James,” you tried to reason with him, desperate to get him naked as soon as possible.

He hummed, “but you called the guy flirting with you by his nickname. I can’t let that one slide.”

Before you could even think about rolling your eyes, he nodded upward. “I’m going to give you the opportunity to decide if you want to take your lesson on the couch or the bed.”

“Bed,” you answered quickly. Damn him and the effect he had on you.

Bucky extended an arm to motion for you to lead the way. Kicking your shoes off, you followed his instructions. He was eager to give you the lesson, so much that he pushed you face down on the bed immediately after entering the bedroom.

Shifting your head to be able to breathe, you waited for him. You could feel him standing behind you, the harshness of his breathing echoing around the room. He pushed your legs open, reminding you, “don’t close them, you need to stretch.”

Fuck. You had an idea of what he had in mind and although you would enjoy it, you didn’t have the patience for it that day.

“I want you to count, okay? If you lose focus, we’ll start over again.”

“Oka—“ you yelped as a spank on your left asscheek interrupted you. “One?”

Bucky kept on going. For the second one, he changed the cheek he hit to your right one. The harshness increased too.

“Two,” you counted, trying to breathe in through your nose. It didn’t hurt, not yet, but you were sure the morning would be tough. However, what truly hurt was the fact that you just wanted him inside you.

By the fifth one, you were desperate to clench your thighs, worried about dripping all over the bed so early.

Bucky took you by the hips, kneeling between your legs. He leaned in, whispering in your ear, “I should’ve remembered you loved getting spanked, shouldn’t I?”

Wide-eyed, you craned your neck to look at his face. “I—“

He angled his face in order to kiss you, making you open your mouth so his tongue could explore it. “Shhh, I know you’ll learn the lesson.”

He slid your underwear to the side, groaning at how wet you were. You whined as his fingers ran up and down your slit. Smirking, he kissed your jaw and without warning introduced a finger into you.

It wasn’t enough but telling him would mean giving him more power to take even more time. You hadn’t thought he’d remember you.

“You want more, right, darling?”

“Yes.”

He gave it to you, surprisingly, fingering you with two fingers now at a quite rapid pace. Clenching around his fingers, you moaned.

Bucky sighed, “who is making you moan like that, baby?”

“You,” you whined. He plunged his fingers more deeply, encouraging you to moan his name. “Bucky — shit!” Your legs had started to shake, the sensation of his long fingers touching the perfect spot and the sound of your slick as his fingers moved in and out only made the room feel hotter.

He withdrew his fingers mere seconds before you could cum.

“What the fuck?” you complained, failing to turn around because of his position between your legs.

“It’s a lesson, (Y/N).”

“I just want you to make me cum, Bucky,” you mirrored his mocking tone.

Bucky stood up. As his weight left the bed you rolled over to be on your back. You tilted your head, allowing yourself to enjoy the show he was unintentionally giving you while taking off his clothes.

Momentarily pressing your thighs together upon noticing the bulge in his tight boxers, you sat up to attempt reaching for him. Bucky stalked toward you, slowly pushing you back down onto the bed.

He gripped the sides of your thighs to part them. Hovering over you, he spoke lowly. “You want me to fuck you, doll?”

You nodded effusively.

“How can I be sure you don’t need the lesson anymore, mmmh?”

You cupped his cheeks, “what if I promise I won’t be too friendly with other guys when they flirt with me?”

Bucky feigned thinking about it. Covering your mouth with his, he slid one of his hands down to your clothed core and rubbed slow circles.

You pushed your hips up in search for more friction. Interrupting the kiss, you exasperatedly spoke, “just fuck me already, babe.”

Pulling on your bottom lip with his teeth, he smirked at you. “I’m gonna make you cum, baby, I promise.”

Bucky threw his boxers to the side, hissing as the cold air hit his hot cock. As he took your underwear off, he looked at you in expectancy of consent. Nodding your head, you shifted to a more comfortable position.

Teasingly, he rubbed the length of his cock against your labia. Your hips spasmed and although it had happened involuntarily, you copied the movement so he’d hurry up. Bucky chuckled, entering you slowly. Bottoming out, he clenched his eyes shut as he inhaled and exhaled deeply.

You took the opportunity he was giving you to get used to his size to crane your neck in order to kiss his throat. Feeling him groan on your mouth, you sucked on his neck as he started moving inside you.

“God, I missed your pussy,” he groaned, propping himself with his forearms at each side of your head to give you easier access to his neck and chest.

Your pussy had missed him too, more than you had ever given it thought. You were extremely attracted to him, at every level, and honestly, he knew how to fuck you just right.

You moaned his name against his skin as his pace got quicker, only encouraging him to get rougher. Bucky shifted his weight onto his right side to grip your face with his left one.

“Tell me you’re mine.” It was a plead instead of a demand, his dilated eyes boring into yours in the most passionate gaze someone had focused on you. At any other moment, you would’ve felt moved and maybe a tiny bit flattered but you were too lost in the pleasure he was giving you.

Wrapping your arms under his armpits to place your hands on his back, you nodded for you weren’t able to speak due to how mushy your brain felt.

“I,” he thrust deeply, “didn’t” another thrust, “hear,” a harsh one that made the bed rock and prompted you to pierce his skin with your nails to hold yourself onto something, “you.”

God, you didn’t know how he could be able to speak right now. To make matters better for your pleasure and worse for your ability to speak, he let your face go and dragged his hand down your torso and toward your clit.

“‘M yours,” you squealed, allowing yourself to close your eyes as he rubbed your clit and pounded into you.

You were sure he could feel how close you were the same way you felt his cock pulsating against your walls. Clenching around him, you kissed him sloppily to keep yourself from being too loud.

He swallowed your moans the same way you swallowed his. “Come for me, doll,” he mumbled between kisses.

Bucky didn’t need to tell you twice, the edging from earlier and the pent up frustration of not having had sex in weeks made the tight knot in your stomach undo slowly although not gently.

You tiredly peppered kisses over his jaw and neck as he pumped a few more times. Bucky let out a strangled call of your name, spilling inside you with his eyes clenched shut and nose scrunched up.

Patting his back, you panted, “I need to pee.”

Bucky rolled off you, breathing heavily as he laid on his back. His cock twitched at the lack of warmth of your pussy while you tried not to make a mess as his come dropped down your legs.

By the time you were out of the bathroom, cleaned up and in search of some sleeping clothes, Bucky had already put his boxers back on.

Watching you get into a pair of panties, he told you, “I brought you a glass of water.”

Sliding a t-shirt on, you turned around. “Thank you.”

Bucky pouted playfully, “it’s not fair for you to wear a t-shirt.”

Shaking your head as you picked the glass up, you took a gulp of water. “I’d tell you to take it off then but I’m tired.”

He waited for you to put the glass down before grabbing you from your robust waist. Pulling you onto the bed, Bucky kissed your face multiple times, holding you close.

“Do you need a massage?”

You shook your head, “you didn’t hurt me, dummy. I’m just tired.”

“Good,” he sighed, loosening his grip around you to let you get as comfortable as needed. “You know I didn’t want to hurt you, right?”

Humming, you turned your body enough to be able to look at his face without hurting your neck as you laid on your side. “Just like you knew I would like it.”

“I would know more if you had called, though.”

“Does that matter?” you genuinely asked. “We’re dating now.”

Bucky’s fingers traced random patterns over your bare thigh. He stayed quiet for a moment. “It doesn’t matter as much anymore, but for me it does. You could be cuddling Benny right now if we weren’t dating, for example.”

“Are you really bringing up a barista I see almost daily right now?”

“He flirted with you knowing you were with your boyfriend! He saw us kissing, (y/n). Wouldn’t you be jealous if it had been the other way?”

You placed your hand on his cheek to leverage yourself in order to kiss him. Bucky kissed back, sliding the hand on your thigh upward toward your ass.

“I wouldn’t cheat on you, love,” you promised, lips still brushing his.

“I know.” Bucky rolled you onto your back and hovering over you, kissed you again.

“Baby,” you interrupted the kiss for a second, “I can’t take a second round right now.”

He hummed, kissing you again, and again, and again. “I just really enjoy kissing you. And that you’re still dating my dumb insecure ass.”

You confessed, trailing your fingers down his spine, “it was hot. But then again, everything you do is hot.”

“I’m trying to learn from you, Miss ‘I look hot while sleeping’.”

Not being able to help it, you giggled. “Good to know you think I’m hot.”

“The hottest,” he clarified.

You completely relaxed your body. Your head fully hit the pillow, palms moving to Bucky’s defined biceps. He laid his head on your chest, closing his eyes as your hands caressed his arms.

Waking up to an empty bed surprised you for the first time in years. You checked your phone in case Bucky had texted an explanation — there was nothing there. You found weird that your boyfriend had left while you slept.

Not wanting to think the worst, you decided to wait for him to call. Maybe he had an emergency, or maybe his phone died... you were determined to remain positive.

Taking your cellphone with you in case he decided to make contact, you walked directly toward the kitchen to make coffee.

A voice made you jump and drop your phone in the process, “I was about to wake you up.”

“For fuck’s sake, James!” you squeaked, bending over to pick up the device and asses the damage.

He tried not to laugh but ultimately failed when a third presence cackled up. Recognizing said laugh, you put the cellphone away.

“Hi, mom! I didn’t know you were here.” You said the second sentence while glaring at your boyfriend.

Bucky immediately defended himself, “you said you were tired.”

You didn’t know what was worse, if he had met your mom before you introduced them or the fact that he had basically said in front of her that he had fucked you so good he tired you out.

Either way, everyone was happy. You finally were dating someone which was what your mom had wanted, your boyfriend was great and a dream come true, and Bucky now felt more sure about your relationship. Also, the sex was great and after your mom left you would probably spend the entire day making out and so much more.

[cutieodonoghue]

dark gray (14/?)

summary: Killian Jones operates a lighthouse in the middle of nowhere, preferring a life of isolation, until one day a woman and a baby wash up on his little island and change his life forever.

read it on: ao3, ff.net

and also catch up on tumblr!

a/n: We finally have made it to uncharted territory! This chapter and the rest that follow were all cooking in my brain for literal years, y'all. I'm very nervous to share, but so excited I can finally finish this off!

Thank you so much for all of your support as I've reposted this story. It's meant so much!

I hope this ending answers questions, wraps up all the plot points, and warms your soul.

///

Fourteen

One Week Later

One of the world’s most ancient Garfield mugs is warm against Emma’s palms. She sits curled up in the window seat of her childhood bedroom unable to sleep. Henry, on the other hand, still sleeps to her immediate right hand side.

She should be sound asleep like him. It should be easy now that she’s home again in the safety of her parent’s house, with a perfectly cushioned mattress and food to last her a lifetime. 

But instead, her mind spins just fast enough to keep her heart racing, and all through the night, she finds herself running her fingers through the pages of one of Killian’s journals, reading and re-reading his private works until she thinks she could rehearse them on command.

Her cheeks are warm with the heat of the tears that seemed to so easily find her eyes. She shuts them, taking a deep breath through her nose.

They didn’t let her return to the island. They wouldn’t let her return to the island. 

And worse, nobody, not even Mister Smee, has said a word about what happened to Killian or the island on the day of her return to civilization.

Emma’s parents didn’t want her going off on her own yet. Maybe it was out of fear- they’d lost her once and didn’t want to lose her again- or maybe it was to protect her and Henry from the cameras that seem to always be right outside.

She’d never even given a thought to the idea that she’d be a global news story. But, apparently “girl goes missing from a cruise ship and washes up on a mysterious island in the middle of the ocean” is a story people are hungry for. 

A creak on the steps that lead up to her little loft bedroom signifies that someone’s coming to see her, so she steadies herself and pulls on a tiny smile. Turning, she finds her father, a tired look in his eyes and his hair gently tousled from sleep.

He steps into her bedroom quietly, without having to say anything, and sits opposite her on the window seat. He peers outside for a minute, so she allows her gaze to drift that way, too, comfortable in the solace of knowing he’s here. 

His gentle, warm hand touches her calf and he squeezes it briefly. “I was thinking about taking a drive up the coast.” Emma looks at him and finds his eyes soft. “We can hide out at Uncle Leroy’s until the…” He shakes his head, grimacing, “circus goes away.”

They all hate it. Even their neighbors have complained. It isn’t fair that they’d decided to keep covering the story from their perch outside of their house. As if there was any story left to tell. All that was left was Emma struggling to return to normal life.

“They’ll just follow us.” Emma sighs. 

She stares at her father, wondering if he can tell she feels like a shell of a person, or if her walls and facades were just high enough to hide behind. Of anyone, she knew he’d be able to read into her.

His gentle smile is almost sorrowful. “It’s nice to dream.”

When she’d told her parents that she met a man on an island, they’d initially been relieved. At least she hadn’t been alone and scrounging for food and habitat. She’d been fed, warm, and safe. At least, for the most part.

It had been more difficult to explain that Killian wasn’t just a man on an island. She’d expected confusion, maybe some sense of doubt or worry, but instead, they promised they wouldn’t stop looking for him.

Still, she wonders if they realize how much Killian means to her. That the guilt of leaving without him weighs heavy on her breastbone, or that she isn’t sleeping with millions of what-if scenarios haunting her instead of dreams.

Emma follows David’s gaze back out the window, where the sun has finally pushed beyond the horizon. She glances over her shoulder when she hears Henry’s telltale stirring, and gets up before he can cry.

She reaches into his newly purchased crib and smiles, settling him into her arms with a whisper, “Hi, Henry. Hi. Did you sleep well?”

The doctors tell her it’s a miracle that he’s still alive and healthy after not being fed properly for so long. But she isn’t surprised. He’s a fighter, just like her.

Emma goes to work right away, setting him on the changing table her parents had eagerly bought to resolve his smelly diaper. Once he’s changed, she grabs a bottle and looks at her father, tipping her head toward the stairs.

“Time for breakfast. You coming?”

He smiles at her thoughtfully and crosses the room, stopping short of her. “Neal’s here.”

Emma nods. “I know.”

He’d stayed the night. Again. She knows because she’d had a late night feeding and found him curled up on the couch, clearly uncomfortable, but suffering through just the same.

“He was worried about you, Emma,” her father explains for the millionth time, “I didn’t realize you were…”

“I know,” Emma says again. She takes a steadying breath, pulling on another smile for him. “It’s fine. He’s… been surprisingly nice.”

It’s true. He has been very nice. He’s eager to help with anything she needs. He’s always running errands on their behalf, making food for them, keeping nosy neighbors away from the front door… enforcing the justifiable hours that the media can stand guard past the sidewalk. 

If she hadn’t already made up her mind about him, she might be persuaded to fall back in love. 

Emma enters the kitchen to find her mother already making herself busy, multitasking with a phone in one hand and a spatula in the other. 

She shakes her head, scowling at whoever is on the other end of the call. “You’re not helping when you call me with pointless updates like this.”

Her eyes brighten once they find Emma and Henry, and a big smile grows on her lips. She mouths, “Hi,” and gestures to the pancakes on the skillet in front of her.

Emma smiles and nods in approval of the pancakes in question, although she isn’t sure she could even try to eat. Her stomach still feels sick.

Neal sits at the kitchen island, a mug of his morning coffee lifted to his lips while he scrolls through an app on his phone. He looks up at her as she prepares Henry’s bottle.

“Oh, I can hold him while you do that.”

He’s on his feet in a heartbeat, already at her side with hands held outward before she can protest, so she allows him to take the baby. Henry seems to like Neal, at least as much as he can, so once he’s in Neal’s arms, she only hesitates for a few nervous seconds before continuing her task.

“How’d you sleep?” Neal wonders genuinely.

“Okay.” Emma lies. She meets his eyes. “Sorry if we woke you up.”

Neal frowns, shaking his head with his brow knitted. “No, no. It’s fine. Believe me.”

Her mother heaves a sigh as she sets the phone down on the counter. “Every morning it’s the same thing. I can’t believe it. How could there be no new information? It’s been a full week! Surely there’s something.”

The only piece of information they’d been told was that they had dispatched a crew to check the island, and after that, it almost felt like they were forgotten.

Emma bites her lip when she feels it tremble, focusing on what she’s doing so much that she worries someone might think she’s being too quiet. 

“Maybe we should go ourselves. To the island.” Neal says. “If they can’t find anything, maybe… I don’t know, maybe Em can see something they’re not.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” her father says diplomatically. “Emma’s still recovering.”

Neal scoffs. “She’s not crippled, Dave.”

“She’s not mute, either.” Emma says, looking at the group. 

They become quiet, her father looking especially guilty.

“I’m sorry, Emma. If something happened on the island. If...”

“If he’s dead, they would’ve said something.” Emma finishes his thought. She closes her eyes, breathing in. It’s a moment of clarity that she hadn’t realized she even had within her. “If we meant anything to him, he’ll find us. Let’s just… try normal life again. As much as we can.”

Her mother seems worried for a few seconds, but soon offers a smile and nods. “Anybody hungry for pancakes?”

/

Storybrooke’s harbor has always been her favorite place to eat lunch on quiet afternoons. Facing the water, watching the boats drifting off in the distance, as puffy white clouds moved slowly overhead, she could always find something calming here.

She sits on her favorite bench, Henry in his stroller at her side, and Neal sitting opposite. 

They’d been quiet since deciding to leave the house, eager to do something other than sit idly while they waited out the media storm and the non-updates from oceans away. 

Even though it’s freezing, it’s still nice to be outside. 

It’s the first time they’ve really been alone, apart from her parents. Tension simmers between them, as if they’re supposed to talk about everything that went on. As if she needs to tell him about her change of heart with regards to their relationship. 

But she really, really doesn’t want to.

Emma breathes in the salty air and allows herself to retreat back to the island in her mind, to the cozy nights in the living room with Killian reading to her. To the last morning they’d shared, so natural and good. 

She’s in love with him. She thought he felt the same. 

It didn’t make sense that he’d just disappear. 

Beside her, Neal clears his throat softly. “Emma.”

It’s clear to her when she looks at him that he must be nervous, his fingers dancing on top of his knee for a few seconds before he folds his hands together in his lap.

“I was an asshole. Our entire relationship. Hell, my entire life I’ve been an asshole.” He scoffs, shaking his head. He takes a deep breath and lets it out in a single sigh. “When your folks told me you were missing, I… totally lost it. No sleeping. No eating. Couldn’t focus on anything. So I flew over there, just to be with them while they waited for answers.”

She thinks she sees a tear in his eye. He sniffles, clearing his throat again. “We waited for almost three weeks.” He pauses, his upper row of teeth tugging at his lower lip. “I never saw them waver. I never saw them admit it was possible you were gone, even though that’s all anybody was saying around them.”

Emma knew it hadn’t been easy. She knew it had been a long time. But she can see in the pure sorrow on Neal’s face just how taxing it had been.

“Uh…” Neal takes another deep breath. “I guess I’m telling you all of this because losing you made me realize I knew how bad I was to you and I always just thought I’d get the chance to make up for it, you know? I thought I’d get the chance to be better for you. But, then...” 

Neal shakes his head, clearly getting upset. A tear escapes his eye and he quickly wipes it away. “I thought you were dead.”

His voice is barely a whisper, spoken so quietly and with such passion that she knew nothing but the tight knot in her chest. She aches for him, and her parents, knowing that they’d been through so much. Knowing that they’d never stop looking for her.

“I’m so sorry, Emma.” Neal apologizes, honesty in the sorrowful knit of his brow. “I’m so sorry.”

Emma closes her eyes as she wraps her arms around him, holding him as close as she can on a bench. He begins to weep, his sobs wracking his body while he buries his face in her neck. She runs her fingers through his hair to soothe him.

“It’s okay.” Emma whispers. “It’s okay.”

When he finally pulls away, he’s far more broken than he had been before. He’s almost a new person. “I feel so stupid, crying like that.”

“No,” she insists, shaking her head.

“I know you moved on.” Neal tells her, glancing briefly at the water ahead of them. “And that’s okay. We were never meant to be together.” His admission feels like a weight being lifted off of her shoulders. “I just needed you to know that I’m sorry.”

Feeling free, yet vulnerable, Emma studies him quietly. He distracts himself with the view in front of them, but she can tell he’s still emotional. His knee wobbles and bounces quicker with each passing second. 

Gently, she rests her cheek on his shoulder, wrapping her fingers around his arm, and stares out at the water. “We can still be friends.”

Neal laughs softly, his breath a white cloud in the cold December air. His knee stops bouncing. For a while, he’s quiet.

“Okay.”

/

One Week Later

There’s a dull throbbing in his head when he wakes up. The first thing he hears is the pulse of a heart rate monitor, followed by nearby chatter.

And then he hears laughter, bubbly and infectious. 

Emma. Henry. 

Slowly, his eyes open and he squints as he adjusts to the bright light that pours in from a nearby set of windows. The sterile room is small, with only a single chair accompanying the bed he lies in. 

In the chair, Smee sits, snoring with his cheek pressed to his shoulder. He’s wearing a jacket as his blanket, and it appears that the man hasn’t seen civilization in a while, based on the beard he’s sporting.

His eyes fall closed again, feeling far too heavy to keep open. 

An adorable crinkle by a shining green eye. Strands of blonde caught between his fingers. A whisper of his name in his ear.

Emma. Henry.

Killian licks his lips and groans under his breath at the aches and pains stinging all over. He’s still drowsy, feeling heavy, as if he’s been drugged. Sitting up is a chore, but he does it anyway.

He hears her voice, a whisper- maybe a memory, “Storybrooke. It’s in Maine. Can’t miss it. Can’t find it, either.”

Emma. Henry. Storybrooke.

“Smee,” he says, voice thick and cracking with lack of use. He clears his throat and opens his eyes once again. “Smee.”

The man in the chair jostles awake, licking his lips and sitting upright with his eyes wide. “Jones. You’re awake.” Smee pulls himself to his feet, jacket discarded at his feet. “How do you feel? Any pain?”

Killian grimaces, rubbing at his forehead, where the headache has begun to throb intensely. “I feel bloody fantastic, mate.”

Smee hesitates, seeming to not know for sure what to say. “You took quite the beating. Um… four broken ribs and your shoulder was dislocated. You were concussed. I know it doesn’t sound all that bad, but you were…” The man frowns, pausing as he searches for the words. “You were broken.”

A dislocated bone. A crack. A scream louder than any other.

Emma. He needs to get to Emma.

Killian starts to pull at the sheets. “Where’s Emma?”

“You should lie down. Let a doctor come check on you before we worry about that.”

He shakes his head. “No, I promised I’d…” He feels dizzy, so he falls back heavily against the bed, causing the frame to shake. “Where are they?”

Smee smiles gently. He grabs something from a table beside the bed and shows it to him. A newspaper. Emma and Henry on the front page.

“She had to go home. It was bordering on unsafe staying, what with all of the paparazzi and media. I couldn’t even see her once she got off of my boat. I heard that her folks wanted to stay and wait, but… the baby, he needed a little extra help from doctors and… you were nowhere to be seen.”

Killian furrows his brow slightly. His mind feels like a fog of knowledge, some of it clearer than the rest. He can’t seem to remember what happened after Emma left. “Where was I?”

“You were only just found a few days ago.” Smee says, clearly holding something back. He lowers his voice, “Stuffed into a barrel.”

The memories come back in almost a painful revelation. He shuts his eyes. “Bloody hell.”

“Lucky for you, you’ve got a brilliant mind in you.” Smee says optimistically. “You’ll be fully compensated for everything. What you did out there… it was damned heroic, Jones. You’ve had your name cleared.” 

“How do you know that?”

Smee shrugs, a small smile on his lips. “As soon as they found you, I didn’t leave your side.” 

The man, who Killian had never seen as anything but his means for food and materials, suddenly felt more to him like a friend than he’d ever experienced before. 

With a shy little blush, Smee adds, “You’ve had a lot of visitors.”

Killian looked to the newspaper again, finding the image of Emma holding Henry close to her chest. He desperately needs to get to her.

Smee must notice his attention is strained, because he reaches for the paper. “Why don’t you lie down? I can get a doctor to check on you.”

“I need to get to Emma.”

“You will.” Smee promises. “Just as soon as you’re well enough to leave the hospital.”

[bitters-enthusiast]

Boozin’

A fic for @timmys-and-scribbles , I love u boo 

The bar was more than likely annoyed with the ginger at this point.

Julian had spent more than a few hours at the Rowdy Raven, his second home, and was drunk off his ass -- even that may have been an understatement. It’d started with a few drinks, just him trying to kill time while Julianne was working at the shop, keeping himself busy and away. Then it turned into him getting sad, a little down, because he didn’t have enough work to keep him steady and busy during a time like this. Wasn’t a doctor rather crucial to a city? Shouldn’t his knowledge and efforts be more needed?

If Julianne were there, she’d be telling him to just be thankful that he had the day off, and that he’d have patients tomorrow eager to hear his advice. 

But Julianne wasn’t there, she was busy. And so, having let the silly, intrusive thoughts take hold of him, he slammed back some more drinks.

More drinks turned into stories, stories turned into singing, and singing turned into slight arguments with other patrons who were getting quite annoyed with the man. Perhaps he’d better find another hobby that isn’t getting drunk and flirting with death.

A couple of hours in at that point, Julian had heard talk of a local musician holding an event in the marketplace in the afternoon in order to make pay for his home. His ears had perked up, and he grinned, even as he took another shot of liquor. Music? A lively night? That sounded exactly his style to the tee, and he’d started to get excited for when Julianne would finally be done with her work for the day. Oh, how he wished to spin her into the night with an exciting tango, or a cozy waltz. If she were there. Waiting for her would be the most excruciating part of his day. But how hopefully rewarding that waiting would be!

A few more hours passed, and at that point, the sun was starting to go down over Vesuvia. Not that Julian could really count the hours --- he was inside, and only whined aloud about missing his wife every other moment or two. 

At the current moment, though, he’d started rambling off a story to his most familiar bartender and friend (at least, Julian would consider him a friend), Reiner. Words slurred and wistful about the time that he’d gone to a city with the Nazali Satrinava -- no, really, it was them, on my life -- to practice his medical studies. While there, they’d caught wind of a puppeteer who used magic to make it seem as if their puppets could move and talk on their own. It was really quite scary, and just added onto the fact that he didn’t like magic at the time. 

“No, really, Reiner,” the doctor laughed, a little too loudly for others’ liking, and he clutched the glass beside him with a firm hand. “One of ‘em, I think it’s name was.. was.. Perhaps Tootie, or something of the sort, and it.. it just moved!”

“It moved, Ilya? Like a puppet is supposed to do?”

“Well, right, duh, but! It moved like a human. And that’s my point. It was absolutely horrible!”

“Right.” the man behind the counter laughed, cleaning out a glass with a soft rag. 

“I’m serious, you can’t take that stuff too lightly, Reiner. It can be rather powerful at times, you know.”

“You were dealing with a puppeteer, Julian.”

“What if she was using real people that she, I don’t know, shrunk! How disastrous would that be? No one would know! She was under the guise of children entertainment!!”

Reiner once again laughed, and set the now-cleaned cup upon his counter to use for someone else who walked in. “You’re quite the theorist.”

“Well, you can never be too careful. Magicians--”

Just then, the door opened quietly, and for the millionth time that night, as soon as Julian heard it, he turned quickly to see if it was Julianne coming to look for him. And this time, he was lucky enough to have his wish come true. 

The woman patted down her blouse, having looked like she just walked a mile to get there. She may as well have -- Julian would’ve waited either way. With a smile, though, she glanced across the room at the semi-familiar faces, before her eyes landed upon her desperate doctor. Placing a hand upon her hip, she smiled, and looked at him knowingly. “Did someone say ‘magician’?”

Julian practically lept from his seat, leaving Reiner behind to continue his work. How absolutely wonderful it was to finally be able to see Julianne’s beautiful face after waiting all day. He stumbled on his way over, and he attempted to laugh it off, hurrying forward to grab Juli in a bear hug. “Oh, Juli, love, I’ve been waiting for you all day. I thought you were never going to put up shop. I’ve been longing for you arms for hours, I--”

As he was speaking, Julianne gently wrapped her arms around him in turn, but shot a glance to the side at the man behind the counter. With a grin, Reiner could already tell what she was thinking. 

“Hey, Annie. Just the usual. He couldn’t be patient long enough to go home himself.”

“Ah,” Julianne nodded, smiling in return. By this point, she knew the staff of the tavern quite well, and had even befriended some of them. It was hard not to -- her doctor was here almost every other day. Her and Reiner were the best of friends out of them all, though, and she trusted him to keep Julian safe and in place when he got hammered -- such as tonight. Pulling away from the hug, Julianne looked up at Julian, and tsked quietly. “Too impatient indeed. Have you been wailing their ears off this time? I’m sure this bar has heard one too many of your renditions of Hound Cries at Midnight.”

When Julianne had pulled away from the hug, Julian had to force himself not to pout. He had craved her affection all day, and just when he’d gotten it...

“No, not today. Though, I do think I should modify that middle section to sound a little more operatic, don’t you think? I--” As he spoke, his eyes continued to search over Julianne’s face, and he began to melt from the inside out. He brought his hands upward, cupping either side of her face, and he crooned, his face adorned with a flirtatious smile. “Ohhh, Julianne, you’re so beautiful. Even after such a long day at work, you’re here, making sure I’m okay and giving me hugs and-- I just don’t deserve such a precious woman.” The redhead pressed a sloppy kiss to her forehead, before pulling her into another hug. 

Julianne was quite used to his drunken behavior at this point, but nonetheless, she still found it hilarious and sometimes flattering. Again, she hugged him back, a light blush on her face from embarrassment. Julian definitely never had volume control when he was drunk. “You’re such a ham, Julian. Don’t you know you’re in a bar?”

Chuckling, Julian pulled away. “What better place to announce your undying love to a beautiful maiden? At least then everyone will know she’s spoken for!” With dramatic flair, the man turned on his heel to face the bar, is arm landing snugly along Juli’s shoulders. With his voice slightly louder than before, he addressed the establishment. “Fellow ... er, uh... hearty drinkers! As some, but not all of you may know, this is my gorgeous, smart, funny, talented, practically perfect wife, Julianne! Julianne, this is Heinrich, Nattak, Erin, and ... was it Izaak? It was Izaak, right, friend? Oh, you absolutely killed  me with your strange noises and your story about the parrot inside the--”

“Julian,” his wife began to speak under her breath. She was flattered by his pride, sure, but this was just more than a little embarrassing. Her cheeks dusted with bright pink, she reached to touch a hand to his chest to try and get his attention as he rambled. 

“Oh! Right, right. Anyways, fellows, this is Julianne! A powerful magician who has stolen my heart--”

“Didn’t you just make a scene earlier about how much you dislike magic?” Some random, gruff man made a comment.

“Yes, well, she’s quite different than any other magician I’ve ever met before. She brings a sort of... fire out within me. Oh, especially when we kiss.” He sighs with an affectionate undertone, and you can practically see stars in his eyes. “Anyway! She’s stolen my heart so graciously, and also given me the best life I could have asked for. She’s really quite great, she treats me ever so well, and makes me--”

Julianne cleared her throat loudly this time, and shook her head in amusement. “Julian, how many times are you going to make this same speech? I’m sure poor Reiner has heard you say these same things three times already this month.”

Turning a little red, Julian chuckled, and faced his wife. He shrugged, as if he were a child getting caught and was trying to justify it. “What can I say? I suppose I just have, ack-!” As he was turning to face Juli, he tripped on a wooden floor board just barely raised above the rest, and he did his best not to stumble to the floor. Laughing it off, as he does, he glanced around the room and gestured to Julianne once more. “I guess I’m just head over heels in love, eh?”

“Sounds like she’s actually a little annoyed wit’ya, bud,” the same gruff man from the corner spoke. It was obvious he’d become a little annoyed with Julian’s drunken antics spoiling his quiet night at the bar. “I’d shut up if ya actually wanted to keep ‘er around. Maybe do less at the bar and more in the bedroom.”

Julian gasped, clutching at the material over his chest. “How dare you, Mr. Corner-Beard! I think I do quite well in that area, thank you! Why, you son’t even have to just take my word! Julianne, would you--?”

Reiner looked between the three of them -- the drunk doctor, his poor wife, and Mr. Corner-Beard -- and paused in his work to be sure that, for the millionth time, Julian didn’t start another bar fight that he couldn’t finish. And as if she read his mind, Julianne, grabbed Julian by his arm, and pulled him toward the exit. 

“That’s quite enough, Dr. Devorak. I think your friends heard enough of your home life today. How about we go home?”

Julian paused, right before the reached the door. He looked at the burly corner man right in the eyes, before he turned to take Julianne into his arms, press a long, dramatic kiss to her lips, and pulled away once more. He looked at the stranger one last time before pulling the door open, and exiting with his... certain dramatic flair.

Julianne stood there in shock for a moment, her face having now turned a bright red. She felt every eye in the place on her, and she could only find solace in one pair -- Reiner’s. The bartender forced himself to hold back his laughter, placing his hand over his mouth. All the woman could do was blink at him, and at this point, Julian was either storming his way home or was wandering around in circles waiting for her to leave alongside him. Reiner finally dropped his hand, only to say a few words before the magician left. 

“Don’t kill him. He has a dance he wants to take you to tonight. Wanted to dip you in the moonlight, or something along those lines.”

Julianne shook her head, turning to walk out the door, and muttered, “Don’t worry, I won’t kill him. I’ll just dip his head into the fountain to sober him up a bit.”