#oh well. first step is fixing my sleep schedule i think. and then i can start working on itnl in my long pauses between classes.

[orcelito]

Man when I do show up to update ITNL again what am I even gonna say? "Sorry I disappeared again despite saying I wasn't going to disappear again bc turns out I wasn't actually recovered from the grief stuff and I still am not recovered but I'm trying my best to live my life anyways! 👍 also I started school again and life is a hell"

Like I know half a year isn't all That long in the grand scheme of things. But it's also been officially over a year with only 1 update, and I Hate that... I feel like I'll have lost a lot of old readers to time and changing interests. And I know I can also earn new readers via updating, + I have some very loyal readers who will be so excited to see me updating again, but. Agh. I feel like I'm just overthinking it.

[ravcnism]

HEY uhm.. i've been having this idea.. like imagine kenji sato x m!reader athlete as well? help, i just thought the dynamic would be cute. it could be a rival team on the baseball league or another sports. I just thought it would be cool!

STRIKEOUT. — KEN SATO x Male!Athlete READER

Summary: The Hiroshima Toyo Carp may have a new player in town, but his name is nowhere near unheard of. The prized star pitcher of The States takes the country by storm when he spontaneously shows up against the Yomiuri Giants. Ken Sato’s career is given a run for its money.

# # TAGS: Longform, Enemies to Lovers but like Still Enemies as Lovers, A LOT of Tension, Sports Anime-Level of Ridiculous, Star-Athlete!Male Reader, Author Doesn't Actually Know Anything About Baseball, Sort of a Slow Burn? No Beta We Die Like Onda

# # WARNINGS: Mild Violence, Mature Language, Eventual Smut if I’m Brave Enough, English is not My First Language, Around 2000 Words, Part One of ??

Night fell promptly upon the Sato residence. The sun had tucked itself into the sea and left a trail of gold in its warm, glistening wake. From afar, the ever-lively city of New Tokyo lit up street by street.

Beneath the water, in the basement, a newly-bathed Emi waddled towards her corner of the house; smelling of fresh sakura petals, and cuddling a half-crushed Nissan Skyline GT-R. Full from dinner, and satisfied by her shower, she felt the gentle arms of sleep coaxing her to a nap. With a squeaky yawn, and a stretch of her arm, she succumbed to its calls and laid on her spot on the ground. A very amused Hayao Sato came walking after her. “Silly girl. The bath and snack combo never fails to knock you out, huh?”

Kenji Sato, well-dressed for a night out, entered after. He was preoccupied by his sleeves, fingers fumbling to button them shut. “Remember, Dad. No videos after 10 pm. We can’t ruin her sleep schedule again.”

“Of course, Kenji.” His father waved him off with his cane. “You act as if I don’t know her routine like the back of my hand.”

“I’m just making sure.” He was fixing his hair, then, gelling it into place. His eyes narrowed at his own reflection, trying to make sure he wasn’t forgetting anything. “And of course you’ve got Mina to help.”

“Definitely, Ken.” As if on cue, the round hovering bot came floating in. “We have everything under control. You needn’t worry about us here.”

Professor Sato chuckled at his son, leaning on his good foot. “You seem to have a lot of nervous energy in you, Kenji.”

The batter sighed, tugging on his collar one last time. “I’m always nervous when I’m not playing.” Deciding he looked alright, Ken left his reflection alone. “No idea why. Might have something to do with my dislike towards things that I can’t control, but I’m not gonna get into that right now–” He shuffled about, searching frantically for his jacket. “Mina, where did I put my–?” An extended robot arm appeared from the floor and handed it to him. “Oh. Thanks.”

“Try to enjoy yourself anyway, Kenji.” Professor Sato had walked over to Emi, who was fast asleep, snoring slightly. He lifted a hand and rubbed her head. “I think it’s good that you go to these games even when you’re not scheduled. I can tell it lifts your team’s spirits.”

“Yeah, well, honestly I’m still trying to get used to it. The whole sportsmanship thing.” Ken sprayed his cologne on. He made a quick jog towards Emi and kissed her cheek. “Sleep tight, Sweetie.” He looked at his dad. With his motorcycle keys now in hand, he walked backwards to their glass elevator. “If anything happens, call me. You know the drill.”

“Yes, Ken,” replied Mina. “We do. Rest assured, there will not be a repeat of last time.”

“Right, right. Last time.” Kenji forced out a laugh. “Look, if she wakes up and I’m not home yet, try to get her to tire herself out. Load up a park. Throw some balls. But no flying outside, please? You know she gets carried away.”

“Understood.”

With a final glance, and a reluctant sigh, he stepped into the lift. “I’ll be back soon.” Leaving her 20-foot Kaiju-of-a-daughter never got any easier — no matter how many times he had gone and done it. He waved his family a quick goodbye, before disappearing from their line of sight.

His dad was right. It was good that he was going. The Giants had a game to win.

"Good evening sports fans! Ladies and gentlefolk, we welcome you to the highly anticipated matchup between the Hiroshima Toyo Carp and your Yomiuri Giants.”

The stadium was bright and buzzing with excitement. Ken was used to the energy, but he never grew tired of it. There was something almost magical about having this many people in a stadium together. Something electrifying about hearing their collective voices. Whether or not he was set to play, the crowd was what grounded him into focus. He adored their cheers, regardless of who it was directed to.

“We’ve got an intense start to the game so far, the home crowd doesn’t look too happy with Tateoka’s second strikeout.”

“How's it looking?” Ken appeared beside his teammate, Yuki, who was watching the game by the barriers.

“Bad. We're dying out there, Sato. Tateoka's our second batter. We're down one strikeout.”

Ken's brows knitted together, intrigued. He had gotten here a little late and missed a good chunk of the first inning. He had missed most of the commentary, too, so he was pretty much left in the dark. All he knew was that the home crowd didn't look too cheerful. And neither did Coach Shimura. ( Though technically, he couldn't remember a time when Shimura looked anything less than disappointed. ) Ken settled into his spot, nursing a canned soda.

The pitcher’s back was against him, his jersey name too far for him to read. He couldn't see who it was. Ken took notice of their form. Their figure. “Wait, who's throwing again?”

His teammate dropped a name so familiar it sent Ken choking on his drink.

“Fucking, who?” He dropped the name of a famous star-athlete. A name he saw on billboards, news reports, articles. A name so expensive it put his vintage cars to shame. A name with a strikeout rate so disgustingly high it had the best teams falling to their knees. A staggering 1.75 ERA. Almost zero walks. Your name, sent a shiver down Ken Sato’s spine. You, the Mets’ notorious Bullet, now a surprise player of the Toyo Carp.

He watched as you turned around. Your face came into view. You were frighteningly calm. The Giants’ batter was one strike away from an out. Kenji swallowed thickly. “When the hell did he get here?”

“Yeah. Apparently they traded him to Carp a week ago. Didn't get much buzz for some reason.” Yuki scoffed. “Think they covered it up? Element of surprise? It was a pretty big move.”

The fact that Kenji had never been put up against you before was sheer dumb luck. That's what he thought, anyway. Despite the fact that the both of you had been celebrities in The States, the seasons just never aligned well enough to get the both of you to play at the same park. But he hadn't dreamed of it. Who in their right mind would? Like a bullet from a gun, your pitches were unstoppable. You had a mutant-like control over the ball. There were studies on the physics of your technique. Even the best batters would miss your throws. And at that moment, as he watched his teammate strike himself out, Kenji wondered if he'd miss, too.

He wouldn't have to keep wondering. Understanding the weight of your presence, the Yomiuri Giants opted to bring in the calvary.

“Sato.” Ken flinched at Shimura’s voice. He looked over his shoulder, facing him. “Locker room. Get dressed — I'm calling you up.”

He laughed, nervously. “You sure that's legal, coach?” He wasn't scheduled to play today, and spontaneously entering a non-player into the field was only allowed upon certain circumstances. Like an injury, for example.

“Of course it is.” Shimura grumbled. “Tokuda just broke his arm.”

The mentioned Tokuda stood behind him, sipping on some soda, with his obviously not-broken arm. “You heard the man, Ken. I just broke my arm.”

Ken grimaced, heading for the door. “The press is going to love this…” Japan's finest batter, versus The States’ fastest pitcher. Oh, this would make the headlines for sure.

Kenji did as he was told. He walked into the locker room, then walked out in full-attire. The speakers crackled to life. There was a steady rise in the crowd’s demeanor. People were slowly piecing the situation together. The announcers were losing their minds. “And It looks like — oh my goodness, folks. I don't believe this. Ken Sato has been called up into the field!”

The stadium went alight. Ken walked into the park and wondered if the lights were a little brighter than usual. He was doing his stretches, rolling his shoulders. His bat was handed to him and he flipped it in his hand. He allowed the cheers to boost his energy, and perhaps a bit of his ego.

“Ladies and gentlemen, we might be witnessing baseball history tonight! Two of the opposing team’s star players have come face to face for the first time ever. And it's happening right here, right now.”

You met his eyes. Ken’s breath hitched. You were so… intense. He couldn't properly describe it. You watched him move into position like a lion stalking its prey.

“Will Sato stop the Toyo Carp’s brand new Bullet? Or will he walk out of this game bleeding?”

The trick was to look them in the eye. A pitcher was no different from a batter when it came to a game. They shared the same weight of responsibility. The only time a stadium is silent is when they're standing face to face. Like a duel. One of Ken’s techniques was staring them down and reminding them that he was a force to be reckoned with. He was Ken Sato, for crying out loud.

Unfortunately for him, you were unshaken. Which he would’ve been offended by, if he were younger and more immature. No matter, he had other things to look for. Like the cues. Each pitcher had their own cue; a sort of tell that told Ken what kind of throw they’d be going for. He didn’t hit those pitches out of pure luck. Contrary to popular belief, he was actually thinking these games through. There were a plethora of things to look at. A pitcher’s stance, their position, which hand they were using. In an easier game, Ken would be able to read these pitchers like an open book.

But if you were a book, then you would've been written in a different language. He could find no such cues. He didn’t really have anything to calculate. You were as unpredictable as you were quick. None of his usual techniques seemed to be working on you.

The last resort: keep your eye on the damn ball, and freakin’ swing.

You held your hand outward, fingers pointed at him. There was a kind of hunger in your eyes, an expression that made Ken’s heart skip a beat. Your focused glare made him feel as if a red dot had appeared on his forehead. Like you had marked him for prey. It felt… personal. Like it wasn’t a part of the game, and you were only pointing at him. A threat. A dare.

You pulled your pitching arm back. He swore he heard a gun cock. The stadium went quiet. The crowd held its breath. So did Ken. He tightened his grip on his bat. He waited, eagerly, for you to make your move. He was counting the milliseconds, watching you, anticipating your throw, waiting for you to shoot.

And you did.

Ken blinked, and the ball was gone from your hands. He released the breath he was holding through a disbelieved scoff. He turned, and the catcher had stumbled slightly, holding your ball. The crowd grew into disarray, a rising cacophony of cheers and boos. They just couldn’t believe it. Ken Sato not only missed your pitch, but wasn’t able to move at all. He couldn’t even swing. You were too fast. Too abrupt.The ball was a white blur, there a moment, then gone the next. It wasn’t an issue of the curve, nor the direction. It was just too fucking fast.

His teammates couldn’t believe their eyes. And neither did his coach. Ken craned his head to look at you. You stared back at him, stone-faced.

He took a breath to regain his composure, resuming his earlier stance. He would never admit it, but he was rattled. He was trying to understand how that throw was humanly possible. How he had somehow forgotten to move. He could do nothing more but stand haunted as he heard the resounding “strike one!” from the umpire. This wasn’t the first time he’d missed, but it was the first time he froze. It was a spectacle to all, and a moment of horror for his fans. Did the Unstoppable Ken Sato finally meet his match? Even if he did, he was determined not to lose a second time.

“Okay,” he whispered. He took a deep, focused breath, slightly shifting his stance. He kept his feet firm on the ground, bat at the ready. “Okay, Hotshot. Bring it on.”

You kept your eyes on him and him alone. You stared at him as if you were the only two people in the stadium. The crowd went silent once again. The Giants fans were desperate to give Sato the focus he so-terribly needed, but the Carp fans were just curious to see how the second pitch would go. The air was thick and heavy with tension.

Like before, you threw your hand out, fingers pointed at Ken. You drew your pitching arm back, like an archer, and there was that sound in his mind again. The cock of a gun. Ken waited. He counted you down. He was a hunter dressed in camo, waiting for a deer to move.

Then, for the first time since he’d seen you, your expression changed. You grinned at him.

Then you winked.

Shit.

You threw the ball. Ken swung.

But he missed.

The crowd erupted into chaos. There was an indistinguishable pandemonium of disdain and celebration. People screamed and jumped and waved their banners as high as they possibly could. A number of them had already entered a state of acceptance — the Giants would lose to a perfect game. No batter would ever get through the wall that was you. But a lot of them kept their faith in the ever-notorious Sato. He could hit the last shot. He could pull this off. He might have been struggling to match your speed, but he would figure it out. They believed in him like he was a god.

And at that moment, as Kenji heard the echoing “strike two!” he certainly felt the anger of one.

Did you just fucking wink? Did you seriously have the audacity to wink at him? Kenji took it personally. Who did you think you were? Though his lips spoke nothing of the foul words he wished so eagerly to shout, it was clear on his face that he wanted you gone. It was one thing to embarrass him with a fastball, but another to rub it in. He wouldn’t let that slide. He wouldn’t allow you to strike him out.

Yoshimura was gripping the barrier so tightly that his knuckles were turning white.“Eyes up, Sato!”

Kenji breathed. Through his nose, this time. He drew a long breath into his entire body and blew it out through his lips. He wouldn’t miss. He couldn’t miss. While he might have already taught himself the humility that came with losing, he hadn’t taught himself jackshit about losing to you.

“If looks could kill,” whispered Ami Wakita, the reporter who watched the game from the press booth. Typing into her laptop, she wrote: “There seems to be obvious tension on the field. Nothing new for Ken Sato, yet, significantly different. Japan’s star player has finally met his match. This game has been a long time coming.”

This was his last chance, and he wasn’t going to waste it. Kenji raised his bat, and narrowed his eyes. You weren’t blind to his added efforts, and smirked at him again. Oh, how it made his blood boil.

Point.

Pull.

Throw.

Swing.

This time, the ball made contact.

The crowd blew up once more, exhausting their lungs as they watched the ball fly across the field. Kenji had hit it. Kenji had managed to catch your bullet-of-a-pitch. He dropped his bat to the ground and ran for his life. Base to base, corner to corner. Kenji leapt across the field and jumped for home.

“Safe!”

The crowd went wild. He had heard stadiums cheer for him before, but he didn't think he had ever heard anything this loud. With a relieved laugh, Kenji got up from the ground, and finally caught his breath. His teammates ran to greet him, though they had only passed the first inning. With a round as intense as that one, they felt it was only right to celebrate a little early.

And then he looked at you. Your eyes met. You were smiling at him again. He didn't like the lack of concern on your face. He didn't like that you didn't seem challenged. And he especially didn't like the fact that he was out there playing for his life, while you seemed to have played for a weekend game at the park.

Kenji was glaring at you, as if he was burning holes into your head. You lifted a hand and threw him a casual salute, flicking two fingers towards his direction. Dammit, he thought. That wink really threw him off. Which it shouldn't have.

Unfortunately for him, the game was nowhere near the last time you'd interact.

And there'd be the after-party to boot.

[freedomfireflies]

SnakeBite*

Summary: The third part to 404*

The one where Harry is good for more than a good time.

But he's still good at that, too.

Word Count: 5.2k

*Contains Mature and Explicit content! Please only consume what you feel comfortable with!💞You are so much more important!*

“Oh, come on…please. Please, don’t do this. Not right now. Not today…please.”

With a deep breath, you stick the key back into the ignition and try again. Waiting anxiously for the sound of the engine roaring to life. A sound you desperately need to hear more than anything.

Instead, all that follows is that familiar clunking of something heavy before there’s a rather shrill buzzing you can’t quite place.

Fuck.

Exasperated and woefully defeated, you take the key back out, groan, and drop your forehead onto the steering wheel. “This is not happening.”

Truth be told, you should have seen this coming. This isn’t the first time your poor car has made this unsettling noise, and perhaps it’s your fault for ignoring it for so long. You hadn’t meant to; you just didn’t realize it was this bad. Or that your car was this old.

Now, you’re trapped in the Juno Incorporated parking lot on a Friday afternoon with no way of getting you or your car home.

“The fuck is wrong with you?”

You don’t even bother to lift your head as Harry’s voice carries in through the window. “Nothing. Go away.”

You hear the sound of his boots scraping across the concrete before they stop, and you feel a large shadow fall over your side of the vehicle. “Can I assume that god awful noise came from this hunk of shit you call a car?”

Leaning back, you huff as you look over. “I’m sorry, do you want something?”

Harry smirks, arms crossing over his chest as he juts his chin toward you. “Pop the hood, let me see.”

“Yeah…no.”

“Come on,” he pushes, a few curls dancing across his forehead from a soft gust of wind. You realize he looks different outside of the lab. Normal, almost. It’s unsettling. “You wanna leave, don’t you?”

“Yeah, but knowing you, you’d probably cut my breaks.”

“If I were gonna take you out, I would have done it by now.”

“Oh. Wow. You’re really instilling me with a lot of confidence, thanks.”

He steps back and motions toward the front of your car. “Fucking relax, Tinkerbell, and just pop the goddamn hood.”

Regretfully, you do as instructed before leaning out the open window to watch him walk toward your engine. “Do you even know what you’re doing?”

“I know enough,” he replies, using the back of his hand to push on his glasses before bending down.

“That…is not helpful.”

“Well, I’m your only shot. Everyone else is gone.”

“I can call a repair guy.”

He shakes his head once. “Won’t get here in time. It’s rush hour on a Friday. You’ll be here for hours if they even show at all. And chances are, they won’t be able to schedule you in till next week. So, unless you’re planning to sleep here, in your car, can you please shut the fuck up, and let me focus?”

You feel your expression morph into a scowl as you unclick your seatbelt and step out. “I’d rather sleep in my car than trust you to fix my engine.”

You notice his eyes roll, but he’s amused. “Well, I can’t fix it. Not here. I think it’s your spark plugs. They tend to wear out faster in older cars. You’ll probably have to get them replaced.”

Scurrying to stand beside him, you glance over your engine and the internal workings of the car with a heavy sigh.

“You’re kidding,” you mumble beneath another strained groan. “And let me guess, it’s gonna be expensive.”

“Probably,” he agrees, glancing over. “But it’s not like you can’t afford it.”

Your eyes narrow. “I know I can afford it, I just don’t like dropping thousands of dollars on something so dumb.”

“Spark plugs aren’t dumb,” he retorts while reaching for your hood to slam it shut. “You need them to fucking drive.”

“Yeah, but having to pay for a rental car, manual labor, and a tow truck is dumb,” you point out. “And this is the last thing I need right now.”

His eyebrow lifts but he doesn’t ask for elaboration. Instead, he begins to stride across the lot toward a dark, black Harley, leaving you and your crisis behind.

In turn, you reach for your cellphone to look up local tow trucks and mechanics that might be able to help you out.

To your dismay, most shops are already closed for the weekend, except for one. And after a very lengthy and frustrated discussion, you learn that they won’t be able to come by until much later tonight. Which means that all your hopes of having a nice, relaxing evening are for naught. 

Once again defeated, you slump back against the side of your car and drop your head. “Well…great.”

Harry’s smirk returns as he glances over and straddles his bike. “What?”

“I’m stuck here until midnight,” you mumble, running a palm down the side of your cheek. “You were right, everyone is booked.”

“Shit,” is about all he offers while pulling his helmet over his head. “That sucks.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“Welcome.” He revs the engine, and just like that, the bike roars to life. The loud and somewhat startling sound echoing across the parking lot as you flinch.. “So, what’s the plan, Princess? You gonna call an Uber and come back later?”

“I can’t,” you shout over the noise. “I have to be here in case they come early, or they’ll leave.”

Through the open visor, you see him frown. “Ah.”

“Yeah.”

He studies you for a moment more, and you feel your skin grow warm under such a scrutinous gaze. Like he’s looking for something written between the lines of your face. “Well…make sure you lock your doors.”

“No shit.”

He smiles again before flipping the visor shut and steadying the bike with his leg. You stand back, ready to watch him speed out of the lot and onto the street, but to your surprise…he simply sits there.

In fact, a good sixty seconds pass before he suddenly slips the helmet off his head, sighs, and thrusts it toward you. “Get on.”

You blink. “What?”

“Get on the fucking bike, Tink,” he repeats. “I know a bar we can hang out in till they get here.”

“I…I just told you, I can’t leave—”

“You can see the parking lot from inside,” he interrupts. “If they show, we can just run back over.”

You step closer, drawn to his proposition, although still wildly confused. “Uh…okay. Why, though? I’m fine to just wait here.”

He looks at you, the grassy green behind his glasses somehow softer in this natural lighting. “S’not safe,” he says simply, shrugging one shoulder up. “Be better to wait somewhere public, and I don’t really want your death on my conscience.”

 And you aren’t exactly sure what to say. Because you think this may be the nicest thing he’s ever done for you – even if it’s still a little odd – and you don’t want to spook him by doing the wrong thing.

But as you debate a response, he shakes the helmet at you again, rather aggressively. “Tink, get on the goddamn bike, please. I’m wasting gas here.”

With a huff, you snatch it from his hand and join him on the Harley. The helmet slips on rather easily, and once you’re sure it’s snug and secure, your eyes trail down his back, unsure of how to proceed. 

You don’t exactly want to…hold him. Or touch him or straddle him. At least, not outside of the way you do in secret. In broad daylight. Where people could see.

In fact, you already feel as though you’re grinding against his ass from how small this goddamn seat is. Almost too close for comfort as you catch a subtle trace of his cologne and feel the warmth from his body.

But motorcycles don’t exactly come with seatbelts, and if he were to take a sharp corner, you might end up pancaked on the cement.

“Tinkerbell,” you suddenly hear him call over his shoulder, voice raised to carry over the growl of the engine. “Just fucking grab me, it’s fine.”

You glare at his curls, despite knowing he can’t see you. “I’m good.”

He snorts again before he’s suddenly reaching back, grabbing onto your wrists, and hoisting your arms around his middle.

You’re tugged forward, your chest pressing to his spine rather forcefully as he glances back.

“Pussy,” he murmurs, releasing the clutch until the bike jolts forward and takes off through the parking lot.

With a rather shrill squeal, you tighten your hold on his broad frame, and bury yourself between his shoulder blades. The sensation is exhilarating and frightening all in the same moment. The rush of wind, adrenaline, and the way he leans around the corner before taking off down the street.

You think you feel his chest vibrate with laughter, perhaps from the way your nails are scraping down his shirt. And despite your increasing terror, you find that you feel oddly…safe with him at the handles.

Not even two minutes later, he’s pulling into another parking spot on the other side of the street, right in front of the aforementioned bar. It’s a bar you recognize, one that a few of your other coworkers often frequent from time to time.

In fact, this is the exact same bar you and Harry first hooked up in all those months ago.

The memory makes you smile.

“What?” Harry asks as swings his leg over the side and stands up. “Why are you grinning like that?”

You quickly wipe the smirk from your face while wrestling the helmet off to hand back. “Like what? I’m just smiling, calm down.”

“I don’t like when you smile. It freaks me out.”

“You’re really rude, you know that?”

“What? I’m just being honest. You have a lot of teeth. It’s weird.”

You glower at him, swatting his chest as you brush by. “Bite me, Harold.”

“With what? Your teeth?”

You feign a snubbed gasp – to which he chuckles – before striding into the bar, leaving him to follow behind.

The large room is loud and crowded with people, the smell of alcohol and bad decisions clinging to the air. You make a beeline for the counter, exhausted and overworked and already annoyed by Harry’s future comments before he can even make them.

Like—

“Really? An appletini?” 

With a deep breath, you look over while the bartender turns around to begin prepping your drink. “Yes, really. I like apples. And it’s delicious. And the color is fun.”

He rests an arm on the edge of the marble bar and leans in. “How incredibly boring of you.”

Once again, your expression falls flat. “Are you gonna be this fucking annoying the whole time? Because I’d rather wait by my car and get murdered.”

“I make no promises.”

“Clearly. And let me guess, you’re gonna order something cool and manly like a scotch on the rocks.”

Harry’s eyebrow quirks up before he smugly turns toward the bartender and calls, “I’ll have a SnakeBite.”

You can actually feel your eyes roll all the way into the back of your head. “God, you’re fucking pretentious.”

“Thank you,” he says with a smile, and you grit your teeth. “Will you relax? I haven’t even had a drink yet and you’re killing my buzz.”

“I’m not killing anything, I just can’t stand you.”

“No? Ouch. I thought we were friends.”

The sarcasm is evident, but you huff, nevertheless. “For the love of god, shut up.”

“What?” He nods his chin at you. “S’just a drink, don’t be so sensitive.”

“I’m sensitive because you’re annoying.”

“No, you’re sensitive because you’re wound up,” he retorts, eyeing you closely. It makes your skin crawl. “When’s the last time you got off, Tink?”

The inquiry makes you step back, almost as though trying to avoid his judgment. “None of your business.”

“So…couple weeks ago? In the closet, with me?” He clicks his tongue in disappointment. “That’s a long fucking time, Princess. No wonder you’re so uptight.”

Your mouth drops open, ready to scoff your resentment and perhaps a quippy remark before he suddenly steps forward and lowers his voice.

“Bet it’s achy, huh?” he coos, and the slight air condescension and sympathy makes your head spin. “Bet you hump your little pillow every night trying to get it done, yeah? But it never works, does it?”

Stunned and left without much remark, your lashes flutter.

He moves closer. “See, if we were friends…I’d offer to take you into the bathroom and help you out. But since you think you can do better…go ahead.”

He leans back while you gape at him. “I’m sorry…go ahead and do what?”

“Find someone,” he answers, glancing around the packed bar. “Take ‘em into the bathroom and let them bend you over the sink.”

“You can’t be serious—”

“Why not?” His eyebrow raises. “That’s the whole reason people come to bars. To get drunk and fuck.”

“Well…that’s not why I’m here.”

“It could be.”

“Harry…no—”

“Why? Seriously, why not? You need it.”

“I don’t…you’re so fucking rude, I don’t need to get off—”

“Coming is good for your health. And for your unfavorable attitude—”

“Oh, you are so fucking—”

“Rude? Annoying? Doesn’t make me any less right.”

You clamp your mouth shut and step closer, letting your gaze travel the expanse of his face. “Come on, Harry,” you murmur softly – salaciously – as his breath seems to catch. “Do you really think…you could watch me with some other guy?”

His expression twists, his mouth already forming around something else snappy and crude.

But it seems to get stuck on his tongue when you suddenly reach out and trail your fingers down his chest. Moving in until there’s only a single breath between you.

“Do you really think…you could watch me touch them?” you whisper, glancing down to your hand as it grazes over his pec. “Or know that they had me dripping down their cock…the way I always drip for you?”

He wants to fight you. Wants to snort and look away.

But he doesn’t. He can’t. He’s mesmerized by the power you so easily stole from him. Undone by the sound of your voice taunting him with an idea he can’t seem to stomach.

“Wanna know I’m whimpering their name the way I always whimper yours?” you continue, smoothing your other palm up the back of his neck. Squeezing just hard enough to make him straighten up. “Wanna see the marks on my throat from where they held me—”

“Easy,” he warns lowly, reaching up to snatch your wrist. But he doesn’t move you. “Not here—”

“Why?” You push up onto your tiptoes and let your lips ghost over his. “Who’s gonna see, hm? Who’s gonna care?”

His lashes flutter, eyes traveling down to your mouth. “Are you this desperate for it, Princess? Wanna fuck me right here in the middle of the bar? Make them watch?”

You smile, head tilting until the tip of your nose dances across his cheek. “Maybe,” you nearly purr. “Bet you like to be watched. You always like watching me.”

And maybe he knows you’re merely playing a game. Teasing him just to throw him off track and test his patience.

But he plays along, eager to see where it might lead. “Can’t help it,” he replies calmly, smirking himself. “Y’just always look so pretty when you’re three fingers deep in your cunt.”

“Yeah?” Your nails scratch at the soft curls near the nape of his neck. “Funny how I can make myself squirt better than you can.”

He exhales a rather sadistic chuckle while his arm reaches to loop around your waist, pulling your chest flush with his. “I wasn’t trying to make you squirt.”

“No?”

His head shakes once. “No. Trust me, Tink. If I wanted to…I would.”

“Then maybe you should.”

His lips part just enough to tease you with a taste. “Maybe I will.”

“Yeah? Right here? In front of everybody?”

Another grin. “I could. Be so fucking easy, too. Bend you over the bar, pull your soaked little panties down…spread you open so they can see how much of a dirty little cumslut you are.”

And perhaps this started as a ruse, but just the thought and the tantalizing way he speaks breeds a new inspiration.

“Cause you are, aren’t you?” he asks quietly, large hand pressing hard against your spine. “My dirty, fucking Princess? Get all wet and weepy from just a couple words?”

You swallow a whimper trying desperately to come free.

“Should I check?” he whispers, now subtly moving you over until your back meets the counter. “Hm? See if you’re as wound up as I think you are?”

You rifle through your list of responses but find that you have none to offer as his fingers delicately begin to trace the edge of your jeans. Provoking you further.

You reckon you should probably stop him. Point out what an idiotic idea this is and remind him that he’s still very much in public, surrounded by people.

But his body blocks you from most of the crowd, and nobody else is close enough to notice. And you suppose that even if they did look over, they wouldn’t exactly be able to see or understand.

His eyes flick to yours, looking for hesitation. But when he finds none, the corner of his mouth twitches up into a pleased smile.

“Dirty Princess,” he teases, sliding his hand into your pants as subtly as he can while you quickly glance around for prying eyes. “That’s right, Tink. Look at them.”

 The feel of his cold fingers against your warm skin is like ecstasy, sending a rush of adrenaline straight down to your toes.

You gasp quietly to mask a whine, vision going hazy as you watch him study you. 

“Oh, sweetie,” he tsks, smoothing his touch through your folds. Spreading and stroking as you reel. “Poor fucking thing. Did’ya get yourself all wet for me?”

“No,” you manage to reply, heart hammering against your rib cage when he smirks. “I was watching TikTok’s of Andrew Garfield earlier. This is for him.”

“Ah,” he hums, but he’s wildly amused, hand still cupping you gently before he swiftly pulls out and leaves you to wilt. “Well, in that case…”

He steps away, fingers tucked between his lips as he pretends to turn around.

However, before he can get far, you manage to capture a fistful of his shirt and yank him back to you. 

And you kiss him. Without reluctance or fear. You kiss him, and you sigh against his mouth, and swallow his surprised but greedy moan.

His hands are on your hips, squeezing and pulling, desperate to tug you further into his frame. 

You go willingly, becoming pliable in his hands. A few people cheer from beside you, raising their glasses and whistling like drunken animals. 

But it makes you both smile, suddenly unencumbered by the ideas of what people might think or who might see.

And it’s strange to feel so at peace in his arms. Unnatural almost to find relief in his lips or safety in his presence. Because this is still the same Harry that would let you drown before he jumped in after you. That would rather tell you off than tell you he likes you – even as an acquaintance. 

You’re not enemies, per se. You imagine you’re both too old for such childish rivalries. But he’s cruel and rude and blunt. His ego rivals the size of the moon, and his lack of care and inhibitions is proof that he could never be who you’d need him to be.

But that’s okay, you realize. You find serenity in the sadistic, strange behavior. Because it means you don’t have to commit to giving him anything more than what he deserves.

His tongue leaves a quick lick to yours before he pulls back and studies you from behind the dark frames of his glasses. “I need to fuck you.”

And you almost laugh at the frank way he speaks. “Yeah?”

“Yes.” His palm slides over the curve of your ass, squeezing it one, twice, three times. “Meet me in the bathroom.”

“Ew, no. I’m not fucking you in a crusty ass bathroom in a sketchy bar,” you retaliate with a scrunch of your nose. “Pick somewhere else.”

“There isn’t anywhere else,” he huffs. “Unless you really do want me to fuck right here in front of everybody.”

“That’s not funny.”

“M’not trying to be funny. I’m trying to fuck you.”

“Well…try harder.”

His eyes narrow. “Fine, you wanna fuck me on my bike?”

You blink. “Okay, that’s really not funny.”

“What?” He’s grinning again, and you hate the way his dimples pop out. Hate how charming they make him look. “Come on, I ride the bike, you ride me.”

You snort as you turn around to take a sip of your drink. “I’d rather get herpes.”

“Wow. Classy. Real fucking classy—”

“Admit it, you’ve had it before—”

“Oh, fuck you—”

“Well, you can’t. Remember?”

He scoffs. “Then where the fuck do you want to go?”

“I don’t know. Literally anywhere else?”

“Well, I’m not taking you back to mine.”

“No? You don’t want me to see the bridge you live under?”

“Troll jokes. Funny.”

“Thank you, I thought so. It’s very fitting.”

His expression falls flat before he sighs and steps closer again. “Meet me in the fucking bathroom,” he repeats quietly, “and let me fuck you. Let me make it better.”

You want to remind him – again – that a dirty bathroom in a crowded bar isn’t exactly the best place. You’d never get a moment of privacy, and the position would most likely be wildly uncomfortable.

But suddenly, none of your reasons seem to matter. Because it hurts to be away from him. Actually aches between your thighs, forcing you to swallow thickly.

So, instead of responding with an actual answer, you simply take his hand, and drag him through the crowd.

You catch his smug smile – and resist the urge to slap the glasses off his face – before yanking him into the hall and toward the bathroom.

You both stumble through the door, already back on each other’s lips. Kissing, and groping, and groaning as you work to get the lock flipped.

You pause for only a moment to make sure the single stall restroom is in fact empty while Harry uses this as encouragement to begin nipping down the side of your neck. 

Your nails scratch down his scalp and he moans against the heat of your skin, exhaling his relief and lust all in the same breath.

His touch is firm – pointed and almost painful – as he pushes you back toward the wall. You gasp when you meet the cold, hard cement, lashes fluttering from the force and the sound of his belt coming undone.

He nods his chin at you, entertained by your fascination. “Come on, Princess. You’ve seen my cock before.”

“Just shut up and fuck me,” you murmur, swallowing thickly when he pulls himself out. “Before I change my mind and find somebody else."

He scoffs with a smile. “I’d like to see you try.”

He gives himself a few pumps, growing harder in his palm before he lets go and moves his attention to your jeans. He’s got them down your legs and pooled around your ankles in under thirty seconds flat, your panties soon following suit.

But he teases you for just a moment. Because of course he does, the sadistic fucker. Needing to hear you beg for him before he actually gives you what you both want.

“Harry,” you huff, glancing down as he presses a kiss to the inside of your thigh. “We don’t have time, and the floor is dirty. Just do it.”

“Just do it? How romantic,” he snorts before obliging and straightening back up. “Thought girls liked foreplay.”

“We do, but not in gross, dirty bathrooms.”

“Fine. Next time.”

And for some reason, the casual way he refers to the future makes your head spin. You always assume the two of you will continue from time to time. But hearing him promise to take care of you again…

It’s almost…nice? 

Pushing the thought aside, you begin to turn around, hands pressing into the wall to brace yourself in preparation for what comes next.

But just as you’re getting comfortable, he suddenly grabs onto your hips, and spins you forward once again.

“No,” he murmurs softly, pretty green eyes trailing down your face. “No, I wanna see you this time.”

“Oh,” you whisper, skin growing hot as he steps between your legs. “Okay…?”

He grins lightly before reaching up to trail his thumb along your bottom lip. “I like watching you get all sappy when I fuck you. The way you grin when it feels good.”

Suddenly, your pulse starts to stagger. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. I like your smile.”

You suck in quiet breath. “I thought it creeped you out. That I had too many teeth.”

He chuckles to himself before taking hold of his cock and bringing it closer, trailing it between your legs. “You do. But that’s what makes you so beautiful.”

You think he must be out of his mind. Lost on the idea of sex and pleasure and SnakeBite’s. Tipsy and not all there. Because the Harry you know would never say something like that to you.

But you suppose you don’t really know Harry at all.

With that final thought, he hoists your leg over his hip, and begins to push in. It’s slow at first. You’re tense from the surroundings, from the loud sounds of the bar just on the other side of the wall, and from his admission.

But he loves it, cursing through gritted teeth before surging forward to kiss you. “Tink, you gotta fucking relax. Y’know I can’t do it if you don’t let me in.”

“Try…trying,” you pant, head falling back against the wall with a thud. “Sorry. Just go.”

He frowns, eyes rolling as his glasses begin to slip down the bridge of his nose. “M’not gonna go if you’re not stretched, Princess. I’m not trying to hurt you—”

“I don’t care,” you argue with a soft whine. “Really, I don’t care. Just go. Make it hurt.”

He releases your leg to slip his fingers just below your jaw, forcing your eyes on him. “Stop. M’not gonna do that, just relax.”

“I’m trying—”

“Try harder,” he murmurs, kissing the side of your mouth. “Come on, sweetie. Know you can do it. Know you always take me so well, don’t you?”

You nod fervently. “Yes…yeah, yes—”

“Then take me,” he whispers, his free fingers finding your clit. He rubs, and presses, and pinches until he feels you begin to unwind. “There you go…there she is, that’s my girl. S’better, isn’t it? Yeah? Gonna let me in now?”

You can’t exactly speak, already lost in the pleasure and the fullness his thick cock provides as it pushes past your walls and settles nearly in your belly.

The sound you make is depraved and eager, and it makes him smile. “That good, huh? So fucking cute how cockdrunk you get.”

“Shut…up,” you huff before reaching for his hair. “Faster.”

“Faster,” he repeats to himself, hips pulling back just to snap forward. “Always want it fast, don’t you? Never want me to take my time.”

“Cause I don’t want your dick in me longer than it needs to be,” you retort, but you both know that’s not true. “Fucking hurry—”

With a sharp and sudden thrust, he changes the pace. Obeying your command for fast and hard as your bodies shake with pleasure and force. 

And you imagine it should feel quite strange to be so enamored by one man – one cock. But here you are, panting, and gasping, and whimpering as he fucks you against this bathroom wall. Ignoring the pounding of the fists against the door from people wanting to be let in.

He kisses you. Kisses all of you. Your lips, your cheek, your chin, your nose, your jaw, your neck, your collarbone. Tugs on your skin with his teeth before flattening his tongue against the tortured flesh. 

His hand dances underneath your shirt. Palm smoothing up your stomach and over the cup of your bra. Slipping just far enough inside to knead you in his grasp. Make you whimper and push closer.

And he’s so warm. All of him is warm and soft and strong. He smells like mahogany and sex, and he feels like ecstasy.

You love his hands. The veins in his arms, the bulge of his muscles. The tan of his skin and the way he holds you. 

He might be infuriating, but my god is he fun to look at. 

“Fucking shit,” he snaps, readjusting his angle to make sure he’s fucking into you just right. “So fucking good, Tink. You’re shaking, sweetie. You close already?”

You can’t respond with words, instead clenching around him in an effort to prove his point.

He smirks, quickly reaching up to push his glasses back into place. “Good. Want you to come all over my cock, baby. Want you to soak me. Can y’do that for me, Princess? Can you soak my cock?”

You think you know what he means, but truth be told, you aren’t sure if you can. You’ve only done it twice before – by your own hand, not his – and you wonder if you’d even be able to like this.

But the question is answered for you when he moves just enough to find that sweet, spongy spot that unravels you faster than lightning. 

He hits it over and over and over – perhaps without even realizing – and when you suddenly begin to cry out his name…he understands.

He watches as it happens, aiding in your pleasure by spitting on his fingers and bringing them down to your clit. 

The ministrations are ruthless and beautiful, and it almost distracts you from the gushing between your legs, and the way you soak his thighs.

“Shit,” you think you hear him groan, his eyes nearly rolling back in his head. “So fucking good, Tink. Yeah, just like that. That’s good, baby, keep going. Give me all of it. Fucking all of it, sweetie, yeah.”

And just before you can go sliding down the wall out of pure exhaustion…he follows. Pressing his chest into yours to keep you upright as he spills inside your pussy, creating a bigger mess than before. 

Everything is wet and sticky and warm. He’s breathing into your neck, holding onto your body so tight, you imagine you’ll see memories of him tomorrow. 

And you stay, just for a moment. Learning how to take in air again and waiting for the feeling to return to your muscles.

“You okay?” he finally asks, exhaling the question into the sweaty skin of your throat. “Didn’t break you, did I?”

Your smile is lazy as you shake your head. “It would take a lot more than you to break me.”

And he laughs. In the kind of way that makes you clench around him again.

Which only makes him laugh harder.

“I fucking hope so.”

Next Part:

~ Jealous*

Previous Part:

~ Off the Shelf*

~ Full 404 Masterlist

~ Main Masterlist

~ Blurb Masterlist

Taglist: @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @keepdrivingkisses @swiftmendeshoran @tiredinwinter @straightontilmornin @justlemmeadoreyou @harrysdaydreams @tiaamberxx @peterparker1sgf @myfavfanficsever @littlenatilda @vamprry @fdl305 @tchalametishot @ssaama @indierockgirrl @likeapplejuicenpeach @vane28282 @lukesaprince @closureesny @lc-fics @daphnesutton

[isattt]

Part 1 - Warning: Suicide mention.

Tags: Haunted house, anypov (?), yandere level: low. Theme: romance, spooky? (Not that much) Words: 1500 (~7 minutes)

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You stared at your phone, looking incredulously at the screen. The apartment was dirt cheap and thirty minutes from the university you attended. This really can’t be real... there had to be a catch, you knew that meant for sure there was something wrong with it, but as you eyed the price again, you just couldn’t bring yourself to let this opportunity pass, not after looking for so long.

When you first visited, the place appeared abandoned, with cobwebs and covered in a thin layer of dust. The landlord, a formal-looking man, reassured you that all appliances, despite the old appearance, were working perfectly.

“And well, if you need anything fixed, I will do it for you in a heartbeat, alright?” The man says, with a wide charming smile on his face, “Don’t be shy to come to me.” He says, patting away the dust from the top of the microwave.

You eyed the place, your eyes landing back to his. “If you don’t mind me asking... Why is it so cheap?” You ask, noticing the dust covered hoops with half made embroideries of delicate flowers, maybe someone old who passed away...? you think to yourself.

“Heh...” He says, with a humorlessly chuckle to himself, his smile quickly faltering “Well... a guy… he… you know...” He says with a slight tremble to his voice, rubbing his arm nervously “Sorry... It’s hard even thinking about it... I wish I could have done more...”

Your eyes widened slightly, quickly acknowledging what he was trying to say. You looked at him with a sympathetic gaze, taking his words in “Oh, I’m so sorry I… I didn’t realize.“  

“It’s alright, pal.” He says reassuringly, putting on a braver front. “I’m actually more worried about you now, you know? You alright with that?” He walks closer, carefully putting a hand on your shoulder. “Things like these make folks uncomfortable. I myself wouldn’t be able to do it.“

You stare at him, before looking away “Well... it’s pretty disturbing, obviously...-”, you say with a sigh “-but I really need it so...”

“I get you, I do,” He nods. “Hopefully, I can make you feel at home. Call my number if you need something, anything, alright? I really am not kidding,” He furrowed his brows, looking at the piles of hoops with a pensive look “So-” He suddenly clasps his hands together putting on a weaker smile than before “-when you move in it will be all cleaned up, I got you”

You mirrored his small smile with one of your own. “Thanks, Will.”

It’s been one week since you have moved in and you have settled in nicely. William did a good job cleaning everything. When you came back, it was almost like you stepped into a completely different place. Even the air of the place was new and lighter, even if still slightly cold.

Ever since then, nothing unusual has happened. You spend your days the same as any other day, just now in a smaller home than before.

Well, almost nothing unusual. The house was always chilly, making weird noises from time to time, and you often had nightmares about a tall man just standing at the foot of your bed, watching you sleep. But you would not let your paranoia drive you away from the best apartment you’ve found after almost a month of searching. Ghosts, demons, and such didn’t exist, after all. When the semester starts, it will be all worth it, you repeat to yourself, trying to find some solace in this situation.

Once you got home that evening after going out to buy your groceries, you noticed an odd recent addition to your wall, just by the entrance, a CO2 meter. Did William install it while you were gone? It was odd though, you never thought he would be the type of landlord to just enter your place uninvited. It was unlike him to invade your privacy.

You decide to take out your phone. Looking at the contacts, you send a quick message to him, trying to understand his intentions. Could it be something that was scheduled that I didn’t know about?  You thought to yourself as you typed your message, “Hey will, what’s up with the CO2 meter?” You hit send, putting your phone aside for a moment on the counter to unload your groceries.

“CO2 meter?” the screen lights up with his reply. You quickly pick your phone back up to reply, “The one you installed?” you furrow your brows, staring at his text with a confused look. Did he forget?  You keep staring at your screen, anxiously waiting for a reply... 

“I didn’t install a CO2 meter.”

“Is everything okay? Do you need me to come over??”

You suddenly feel the familiar cold from the apartment enveloping your body, making you shiver slightly. What could this even mean for you? Would someone really break inside your place only to put something like this and nothing else...? You for sure needed to take that thing down at least It might be a hidden camera or something.

“I don’t know, to be honest.” You reply to him.

“I looked at the cameras in the hallway for you, but I found nothing, pal.” He said, fixing his glasses on his nose with one hand.

William was sitting at your table, sipping on the cup of tea you had given him. He arrived not much later after your text, coming immediately to check on you. “It’s too damn bad I can’t be more helpful here. Even the cameras on the outside found nothing unusual.” He says, taking another sip of his tea.

You were leaning against the wall, staring at him while holding your own cup of tea, the warmth of the liquid providing you a sliver of comfort in this situation. “It’s okay... this is already better news than I expected,” you say as you shift your weight onto your other leg. “Maybe it was always there and, ugh, I don’t know, maybe I didn’t notice it before.” 

“Well... hah...” He brought the cup to his lips, hesitating before taking a drink of the hot liquid. “I noticed something though...” He continues, “It’s nothing horrible, I mean… It’s just... well, you can see for yourself” He lowered his cup to the table, bringing his phone out of his pocket.

You sit down in the chair by his side, dragging the chair closer to him. When your shoulders touch, William flinches slightly, but keeps the phone in place. You look between his eyes and the screen with a curious look.

The screen of his phone showed you the camera feed of your hallway. The timestamp showed it was around noon, a few hours before you found the CO2 meter on your wall. It was empty, no one coming or going. 

“Around here,” William said, forwarding the video. Nothing changed, still the same empty hallway. Before you could ask him what he had seen, the feed showed your door opening. No one came out, of course. You weren’t at home.

Then… the door closed by itself, the same way it had opened.

“What...” you muttered, staring at the screen with wide eyes. “But I locked the door...”

“I imagined you did.” He looks at you, an uncertain look on his face. “What do you think of setting cameras inside here? I could lend you one of mine.”

“Maybe...” you say, still shaken by what you had seen. You feel the chilly atmosphere of the house again, creeping up your spine. “I wasn’t so much worried about the meter anymore, but this is something else.”

He leans back against his chair, creating some distance between you two as he puts his phone away. “Look, I’m not trying to imply anything, but these sorts of things have been happening all the time. Folks come here, these things happen... they leave.”

He grabs the cup once again, running his finger over the rim of the cup. “I am not one to believe in ghosts, but…”

“If these things exist, at least the fella who is haunting you is the least dangerous ghost you could have, hm?” He says with a small smile, a wistful look on his face.

You raise an eyebrow at his statement, while he could be right, it’s hard to believe, given your circumstances “Well, he is still creeping me out, even if that’s the case...” You say harshly, suddenly feeling the cold air of the room leaving.

He nods understandingly “Mhm, I can understand,” he pauses, emptying his cup of now lukewarm tea and standing up to put the cup on the sink “I don’t know why, but it’s been a lot more active with you than with everyone else... when you sat close to me just now, I felt like someone was staring daggers at me! Hahaha!”

He finishes washing his own cup, walking to stand in front of you. “If you see him, tell him I miss his nerdy ass!” he says, grinning widely. “Let’s just install those cameras so you can sleep easy at night, alright?”

[macherouviere]

One thing that should keep me sane after a long day? A good night's sleep. But if I tell you I am actually getting my beauty sleep, well… Let's just say that is a marketing claim I am not willing to back. My sleep schedule? A mess. Absolute chaos. But hey, at least I look like I have it all together—thank you, concealer and caffeine.

Being part of Veloure's Product Development (PD) team sounds like a dream job, right? No looming deadlines, no late-night panic sessions at home… Until one of our chosen labs decides to play scientist and adds an extra drop of something; throwing off the entire ingredient ratio. And just like that, peace is gone, deadlines are back, and I am triple-checking formulas like my life depends on it.

Do I love my job? Absolutely. There is something thrilling about being in the front row of a product's creation, seeing it evolve from concept to reality. But let's be real: Getting the first test batch is not always a glamorous moment. Case in point: Angela and Ryan? The product looks amazing on them. Me? Not ugly, but… Definitely not that pretty either. It is all about the color palette differences. (And yes, the PD team has an inside joke about this, because if we did not laugh about it, we would cry.)

Ah, but back to my so-called beauty sleep. The reality? After work, I am doom-scrolling Twitter and Instagram, making sure we are not just following trends; we are setting them. And honestly? We are one step ahead. Whether it is predicting the next big thing through music, books, and movies or brainstorming how to turn a random internet moment into a product (hello, blue blush for the Siren makeup trend), I love the thrill of research. And collaborating with the copywriting team? That is just an extra layer of fun. Oh, and let's not forget my real talent: being a professional commentator on what every other team is doing. Some may call it noisy, but come on, we are here to move forward, not stay comfortable. You either lead the trends or follow them—and I think we all know where I stand.

Now, let's talk about formulation research. I can spend hours analyzing color palettes, but when it comes to finding the right amount of pigment that would not irritate anyone's skin? That is where the real challenge is. Oh, speaking of skin, can I just say I am obsessed with Veloure's new eye cream? It is lightweight, does not feel like glue, and actually helps with the under-eye bags I collect from my late-night movie marathons. (Listen, I have to stay updated on romance movies, fantasy shows, and reality dating series; it is practically a second job at this point). If Joe Goldberg can say, “Hey, You” to every girl he meets, then trust me; I am saying that to this eye cream. Love at first swipe.

Mornings? Never a disaster. Unless I leave home with an outfit that makes no sense or makeup that is only half done. But nothing a matcha pistachio with almond milk cannot fix. As for lunch? Anything is fine, as long as it is not drowning in garlic, because I do have to meet with lab clients and negotiate ingredient claims. (Yes, I brush my teeth after, don't worry). Lab visits also come with a bonus: midday tea breaks while we wait for product deliveries; because work should have its cozy moments.

And home? Oh, home is where I realize past me left a complete mess in the morning. But at this point, it is scheduled chaos, so I will either deal with it… Or finally give in and hire someone to clean it up?

[moremorrae]

Shadowmoon Legacy Part 7: Lessons

Another week or so had passed with no word from Jeremy's friend about what was in the strange pack. In all honesty, Charlotte had nearly forgotten the one she'd thrown in her fridge. Her schedule had gotten a bit busier as she had been asked by the Goldmans if she could help their daughter with her studies.

Being a librarian, Michelle and Jenna thought that Charlotte would be perfect for the task... and Charlotte didn't mind the extra income. Repairing the walls in her home would not be cheap after all.

"Right then, let's see if you've been paying attention," Charlotte says as she reaches for Jessica's textbook.

"Try me." She responds with a confident grin.

Charlotte turns to the test practice section of the book. "Ok. What region was founded by Madre Cosecha?"

"Easy, Selvadorada."

"Correct, and the name of the jungle within the region?"

"Uh... Belo... uh Balon... er...." Jessica seemed to struggle a bit to remember the name.

"Belominsia." The answer comes from Michelle as she and Jenna walk through the door, signaling the end of Jessica's study time.

She looks between the adults waiting for the okay to go. Charlotte laughs a bit. "Gon on, we can continue this next time I come over." That was all Jessica needed before she rushed upstairs, eager to be finished studying.

The three of them spoke of various things while Charlotte cleaned up the books she had brought to help Jessica with her studies. Once finished she stood up to leave.

"Well then I should let you all get on with your evening, I think I may need to find a few more history books to fill in some of the gaps in her curriculum but other than that, I'd say Jessica is doing quite well."

As Charlotte moves toward the door a look is shared between Michelle and Jenna. "Why don't I walk you home, I can help carry some of the books you brought with you." Jenna offered. Grateful for the help Charlotte handed some of the books to her and the two headed across the way to Charlotte's home.

As they got to Charlotte's home she turned to Jenna with a smile. "Thank you for the help."

"Oh it's no problem, the least we can do since you're helping with Jessica." She held up the books she carried. "Would you like some help putting these away?"

Charlotte adjusted what she held in order to unlock the door. "Ah, it shouldn't take too long but sure, come on in." Getting the door open Charlotte stepped in, not noticing that Jenna hesitated a moment before following in.

"My, what a... well quaint, place."

"There's no need to pretend, I'm well aware the place is in a sorry state," Charlotte says. "I'm saving up to fix the... walls." Charlotte trails off slightly as she feels a fog settle over her mind. A gentle touch and Charlotte is turned around with Jenna very close.

"For someone so smart, it was quite foolish for a mortal to live amongst us vampires."

The soft whisper is the last thing Charlotte registers before feeling a sharp pain in her neck.

Slowly the fog over her mind only seemed to grow thicker before eventually fading to unconsciousness.

A few hours later Charlotte woke up laying on her couch. The TV left was on some news programming and the books she had brought back from the Goldmans were put neatly away in the small bookshelf she kept. Her head hurt slightly and she didn't quite remember getting home, though considering she was asleep on the couch she assumed she was simply exhausted after a long day. Getting up she heads upstairs to change and sleep the rest of the night in bed.

When she woke up in the morning she still felt incredibly exhausted and found it difficult to get up. Eventually, though she makes her way over to the trunks with her clothes to get her things so she can get ready for work. She froze though as she caught a look at her reflection in the mirror.

At first, she was unsure if it was just a mark on the mirror but even after she rubbed at it on the mirror it was still clearly there. Two small wounds on her neck and a small amount of dried blood trailed from them.

So fun fact, part of why I chose this challenge is I downloaded a lot of vampire-themed pose packs without fully realizing it till I was looking through what I got. Gotta start making use of them in our vampire legacy.

[fakesimp]

Hello!!! Can you do any angst/comfort with Shu or Mysta? I'm craving for comfort (⁠｡⁠ﾉ⁠ω⁠＼⁠｡⁠), Also welcome back (if you were gone?) [Sorry for my poor english!!(⁠´⁠;⁠︵⁠;⁠`⁠)]

"Come, and rest with me.." , With Shu Yamino , Mysta Rias

Warning !

Fluff ; Hurt/Comfort ; Mentions of Kissing ; Mentions of Overworking ; Established Relationship

A/n !

Why choose one when I can do both--. Also, Apologies in advance if Mysta's ooc ! I tried my best to write for him (⁠ ⁠；⁠∀⁠；⁠)

And thank you for the welcome back ! Haha, I was taking a little break due to my writing block i had.

And worry not ! I understand you very well anon <⁠(⁠￣⁠︶⁠￣⁠)⁠>

➶◜◝➴

Shu Yamino

He, himself is already have a pretty messed up sleeping schedule. He doesn't want his lover also following his steps, but as much as he wants to tell you to rest, he often end up reflecting upon himself. It made him frowned for a moment, and because of that it took him quite awhile for him to finally confront you about your state, he is worried about you and your health after all.

He have seen you working through late nights, and barely getting any brink of sleep, there are also time when you didn't go to sleep at all. And it made him worry about you much more, even concerned. He had been trying to confront you about it, but he doesn't know how to say it without sounding rude. It took him almost a few days to courage himself to finally spoke up to you about it.

And today is the day,

He knocked on your door, you were working on some papers on the table. "Babe??" He called out behind the door, "Yeah?" You replied a bit loud. Face still on the paper in front you, you then heard the door getting twisted gently by the hand of your Beloved Sorcerer.

"Hey, babe.. You're still not done?" He slowly approached you, "It's, pretty late y'know.." he said as he look at the clock on the wall in your room. After he mentioned it, you also look over at the clock. That tells you it's already, 2 am.

You blinked and look down on the messy papers that's spread out on the floor, "It's, that, late already??" You said not realizing how late it is. "Hmm, I, need to finish this in a bit. You can--" "Babe, I don't want to sound rude, but, y'know, i noticed you have barely take enough sleep" he cuts you off in the middle of your sentence, you stared at him in awe.

"I know I, have a pretty messy sleeping schedule myself, but I am willing to fix it. Together, y'know?" He shyly said as he unconsciously fiddling with his hands before scratching the back of his neck sheepishly, "Shu.." you whispered and slowly stood up and approached him.

You wrapped your arms around him, you feel bad about not taking care of yourself properly, you also feel bad for not being able to take care of him too.

Both of you are in a messy state, and you know very well that both of you need to fix this.

"So, babe.. Come, and rest with me.."

His gentle hands moved to your cheek, gently rubbing his thumb along. Smiling down at you, he leaned and kisses you on the lips. "Well?" He whispered, expecting an answer from you.

What will you say to this unintentionally pleading Sorcerer?

You won't decline his request do you?

Mysta Rias

"You can go first Mysta, I'll join you later"

That's what you said, and he actually did go to bed first, expecting you to be there when he woke up either in the morning or in the middle of the night. Seeing your figure sleeping peacefully next to him, oh, how wrong he was.

Later that night, He woke up, only to see an empty side of the bed. He expected you to lay there with him, but no. You're not there, he groggily grabbed his phone and check the time. "What the.." his brows furrowed as he stare at the time on his phone for another minute, he then frowned, staring at the ceiling before letting out a small sigh.

He slowly rise up from the bed and went to where he could think where you're at, and you're exactly at where he expected you to be. He opened the door, and leaned against the door frame, staring at you in silence. "How, long are you going to sit there?" He announced himself by asking the question, making you slightly jump from your seat, "I thought you're going to join me a few hours ago." He continued as he slowly approached you.

"You know you can continue it in the morning right," he trailed off as he look over to see what you're working at, "I also noticed how you've barely getting any sleep nowadays babe." He continued as he look at you, worried. "You need a rest too, come on now." He said as he gently pull your hand, "Come, and rest with me.."

You sighed in defeat, he's right, you have been putting up all nighters the past few days trying to finish the work. You've barely getting any sleep, and you can bet yourself the moment your head hit the pillow you're going to pass out.

"Babe?" He called you as he held your hand a bit tighter, you can hear the worry in his voice, "Yeah, sorry-" you trailed off, "I'm sorry, for, making you worried." You apologized, making him slightly taken aback by it. "Why are you apologizing, there's nothing for you to apologize for.." he said as he then slowly wrapping his arms around you, you both stayed like that for a while before he decided to pull away.

He look at you for a moment, and then within seconds he pecked your lips, he immediately look away, flustered at what he just did. "N-now come on, let's go to bed"

You chuckled softly and walked together with him to your shared bedroom, "Cutie" "Shush.."

What a cute detective you have..

©fakesimp . 2023

A/n !

Here you go ! Hope you like this ! I tried writing for Mysta, I don't know if that's good enough-

But i hope you enjoy this anon (⁠ ⁠；⁠∀⁠；⁠)

[fangirlwriting-stories]

Car Problems and What Causes Them

Summary: The Flynn-Fletcher family car has been through a lot.  Honestly, it's surprising it didn't start acting up sooner.

…

“I just don’t understand why it’s suddenly needing so much work,” Mom was saying as Candace stumbled into the kitchen for breakfast.  She was definitely not ready for a school year sleep schedule.  Plus, with all of the last days of summer she had to deal with, she needed weeks to recover from how exhausted she was, weeks she did not have.

She wandered over to the table and dropped her head on it with a groan.

Phineas gave her a sympathetic pat on the shoulder from his spot sitting up bright and chipper next to her.

“Do you remember anything that happened to it that I’m not thinking of?” Mom asked.  “Oh and here, Candace.”

Candace pulled her head up to see mom putting a bowl of cereal on the table in front of her, and she grumbled what thanks she could manage.

“I think you drove it around more often than I did this summer love,” Dad said.  “It’ll be all right, we can afford it.”

“We can, I just want to know where all the problems came from so we don’t do whatever it was again,” Mom said.  “If we can help it.”

“Wha’s goin’ on?” Candace mumbled, taking her first bite of cereal.

“Oh my car is acting up,” Mom said.  “I don’t understand why, I mostly used it to run errands throughout the summer.”

Candace yawned.  “Yeah, but I’m pretty sure it was dropped from the sky a couple times,” she said.  “Plus that time it went out of control and we drove it into the sky.  And that time Phineas and Ferb turned it into a race car to win a race.  And when they made it a monster truck so I could practice parallel parking.  And that one time it was launched into space—”

“Oh Candace, please,” Mom said, pressing her hand to her forehead.  “I’m trying to actually figure this out here.”

“What?  You were even there for one of those.”

“Actually Candace made some good points there Mom,” Phineas said, and Ferb nodded in agreement next to him.  “We kind of put it through a lot this summer, it’s held up pretty well considering.  Do you want us to fix it for you?”

“I absolutely do not want you touching my car,” Mom said, raising her eyebrow at them.  “I’m going to call our regular auto place while you three are at school.”

“It’ll be cheaper and faster and turn out better if you let them do it,” Candace mumbled, taking another bite of cereal.

“Candace,” Mom said, crossing her arms.

“I’m just saying.”

“Alright, that’s enough.  You three get going, you don’t want to risk being late for school.  I’ll have the car fixed by the time you get back so we can still go out to dinner.”

“Are you sure you don’t want us to do it, Mom?” Phineas asked.  “We could probably do it in an hour after we get home from school.”

“Oh for Pete’s sake, not you two too,” Mom said.  “Just go on and get ready.”

“Okay, if you say so,” Phineas said.

Candace, resigned to her fate, took another few bites of cereal and climbed up to go get dressed.

“It’s really strange that she’d rather pay money than just let us fix the car,” Phineas said to Candace as they all started for the steps.  “Especially because we’re kind of why it’s been through so much.  I feel bad.”

“She doesn’t think you can do it, genius,” Candace said, rubbing her hands over her face to try and wake herself up.  “She thinks you’re joking.”

“What?  That’s not what I sound like when I’m joking,” Phineas said, giving her a confused look.

“You’re telling me,” Candace said, rolling her eyes.

“Well either way, we need to do a better job of taking care of the car the next time we need it for an invention,” Phineas said, glancing over at Ferb as they started up the steps.  “Mom shouldn’t have to get a new one before she wants to.”

“You could also go fix it right now,” Candace said.  “I know you were giving yourself extra time on that hour estimate.”

“What?  Mom told us not to,” Phineas said.

“Mom. Doesn’t think. You can do it,” Candace emphasized.  “She thinks you’re a couple of dumb kids who don’t have the first clue how to fix a car.”

“What are you talking about?” Phineas asked, turning to Candace as they reached the top of the steps.  “Mom knows the kind of stuff we do every day.”

Candace snorted.  “I wish,” she muttered, heading towards the bathroom to brush her teeth.

Not even a minute had passed, however, before Phineas showed up at the door again.  “I don’t want to do something that Mom told us not to do,” Phineas said.

Candace sighed and spit out the toothpaste in her mouth.  “Then don’t.  Let her spend the money when she doesn’t need to.”

She glanced over at Phineas, not sure what exactly she was expecting to see.  But she definitely wasn’t expecting to see him standing at the doorway looking really uncomfortable.

“Phineas?” she asked, setting the toothbrush down.  “What is it?”

“We always ask Mom for permission for inventions when it involves changing the car or the house or something of ours,” he said, fidgeting with his hands.  “Does she think we’re joking?”

Candace blinked.  “What?”

“Did we mess up her car without permission?” Phineas asked, suddenly looking very worried.  “Candace, I don’t want to do that!”

“Wait,” Candace said, turning to face him.  “You thought when you asked Mom if you could use the car to race she understood that you meant soup up her actual car to run on a remote?”

“She didn’t?” Phineas asked, looking almost distressed now.

“No?  Why would she?”

“Because that’s the kind of thing we do!” Phineas said, like it should be obvious.

Candace stared at him for a second.  “Phineas,” she said slowly.  “Mom doesn’t think you can actually do that stuff.”

“What do you mean Mom doesn’t think we can actually do that stuff?”

“Why do you think I try to show her?”

“I— I don’t know!  I thought—” Phineas put his hands over his mouth.  “We used the car without asking and then we broke it,” he whispered, sounding horrified.

Candace stared at him for a second.  He sounded really upset.  The kid could break the boundaries of time and space and this is what got to him?

“Phineas,” she said slowly.  “It’s okay.”

“But—” he started.

“Hey,” Candace said, taking a step forward.  “You didn’t do anything you can’t fix.  Mom’s the one who isn’t letting you.”

“But it was our fault,” Phineas said weakly.

“Some of it was mine,” Candace muttered, rubbing the back of her neck.  “And I can’t do anything about what I did, even if I wanted to.”

“Still,” Phineas said, looking down.  He clearly felt awful, and Candace was suddenly very conflicted.  She’d never considered that Phineas thought Mom was okay with the stuff they did.  Would he even have done half the things he had last summer if he knew how Mom would have actually felt about them?  That would have made Candace’s life a million times easier.

But Phineas clearly wasn’t happy with this realization, and Candace didn’t love that look on his face either.

Finally, after a second, she sighed.  “Oh, I can’t believe I’m doing this,” she muttered.

Phineas glanced up at her.  “What?”

“Go get Ferb and fix the car,” Candace said, herding Phineas back out of the bathroom.  “I’ll distract Mom.”

“But Mom told us not to—”

“You already broke it, and you clearly aren’t going to feel better until you fix it,” Candace said, stopping at Phineas and Ferb’s bedroom door.  “Go on, I know how to keep Mom busy.”

Phineas gave her a grateful smile.  “Thanks, Candace.”

Candace gave an exhausted mini-salute and headed back for the stairs.  “MOM!” she screamed.  “I TOTALLY NEED YOUR HELP PICKING A FIRST DAY OF SCHOOL OUTFIT!”

[yourmidnightlover]

all my fault

Request: spencer and y/n are married, and they’ve been trying to have kids, and then she finds out she’s pregnant. a few weeks into the pregnancy, she has a miscarriage, and at the hospital the doctor said it’s bc she had an abortion as a teenager, and it fucked up her it yet us. spencer didn’t know she had an abortion, and blames her for the death of the baby, and they end up sleeping separately for a while and they have to grieve by themselves. spencer ends up talking to emily about it bc of her experience and it has a comforting ending!

Summary: when reader has a miscarriage after trying to have a baby with spencer, and things about her past are revealed and leaves things rocky within their relationship.

CW: miscarriage, pregnancy, mention of abortion, spencer’s rly harsh at first, teenage pregnancy, mentions of surgery, a cervix condition that i kinda made up, depressive thoughts, negative self-worth, HAPPY ENDING. *please let me know if i’ve missed anything*

A/N: i’ve been working on coming up with a series, which i posted last thursday! i’m sorry i haven’t been as consistent with my schedule, this summer has really taken a toll on my mental health and school is about to start back up. i promise i’m not quitting writing, but my writing might become a bit more sporadic in terms of my posting schedule. i’m still not sure if i like how i’ve executed this piece, so please let me know what you think!

IMPORTANT A/N: this contains serious topics centered around pregnancy and abortion. reader end up blaming herself and it is a very triggering subject to some. if you aren’t comfortable with those kinds of depressive thoughts PLEASE DONT READ. i don’t want anyone to be triggered by my writing. your mental health matters. you matter. do not read if your sensitive to the subject matter, please!

———————————————————————

when you and spencer checked the third pregnancy test and saw those two, very clear lines on the stick, you felt an unbelievable amount of joy.

“oh my god,” you clamped your hand over your mouth, your eyes welling with tears.

“y/n…” he held his breath, holding your free hand with both of his own.

“you’re gonna be a dad,” you huffed out a laugh as his arms flew around you.

“and you’re gonna be a mom! we’re gonna have our own little family,” he cheered as he breathed in your scent, elated from the news he had hoped for since you said ‘i do.’

spencer had wanted to be a father since he met henry, you remember how attached he was to the child who wasn’t even his own. you hadn’t always wanted children, only when you were absolutely ready for them. now, you were more than ready.

your arms flew around spencer’s neck as his went around your waist. he dropped to his knees and began pressing kisses against a bump that wasn’t even visible yet, praising you and your body for carrying his child.

because it was so hard for you to get pregnant, spencer decided to baby you every chance he got. you didn’t do the dishes or sweep, you weren’t allowed to reach for high shelves or even step on a chair to do so. he was worried about you and the baby, so you let him. you found it endearing.

the perfect man that you married was so worried about the little bean inside of you, worried for your safety, that it drove him a bit mad. who were you to complain? each time he’d do one of the new little quirks like not letting you lift anything above 10 pounds, you just smiled to yourself and brushed it off.

being pregnant was something that you had lost hope for, in all honesty. spencer had been talking to a few friends who had adopted children prior to finding out you were pregnant. if this hadn’t worked out, the two of you were going to look into adoption.

spencer had planned your doctors appointment for 6 weeks after your last period. the appointment was in three days. and then the perfect outline you had for your future went down in crumbles.

you had been having pains in your lower abdomen, and you figured it was just because you were pregnant. you went to the bathroom like you normally would when you felt queasy, kneeling by the toilet in preparation for what was to come. only nothing came.

you decided to just go pee and get back to bed. there was a pain that wasn’t like you’d felt before when you were peeing, like someone had been pulling your intestines out of your body. when you looked down, you felt your stomach drop.

“spencer!” you cried out. “spencer, hurry!” you felt tears well in your eyes until he ran up beside you. his hand was on your thigh as the other one was trying to steady your shaking hand.

“what is… oh,” he looked in the toilet to see blood inside of it.

“spencer… what happened? i don’t know what happened. everything was doing so well and the baby-we just found out and now they’re-wh-what’s gonna happen?” you rambled out, unsure of how something this horrific happened so quickly.

“i-i don’t know, my love,” he pressed a kiss to your forehead. “i don’t know. but we’ll go to the hospital right now, okay? we’ll get answers.”

you just nodded. you couldn’t speak anymore. you felt your throat closing in on yourself. you cleaned yourself up and got dressed. even looking in the mirror with spencer’s arms around you, you didn’t feel anything but guilt and worry.

spencer’s touch would usually be something to ease your mind and take away the thoughts of everything else around you. only this was something wrong inside of you. you were the problem this time. and you didn’t think anything could fix this feeling.

“let’s get to the hospital, yea?” you nodded as he held onto your hand, trying to ground you to himself as he guided you to the car.

you were silent the entire drive to the doctor. there was nothing to say. there was nothing to do. there was just… nothing. you were numb.

“hey,” he spoke up, “we don’t know what happened yet. there’s a chance it’s just a fluke, right? the baby might be okay.”

“what’re the statistics, spencer? tell them to me,” you ordered as tears flowed from your eyes.

“y/n…”

“tell me! why don’t you want me to know?!” you accused him, looking over at the man driving as he but his lower lip. “1 in 4 women who experience bleeding during a pregnancy are fine. 25 percent. the other 75 percent of people have either a miscarriage or serious complications. those are the statistics.”

“y/n…” he sighed, “it’s not your fault. you didn’t want this to happen. besides, there’s still a 25 percent chance that nothings wrong.”

“whatever,” you rolled your eyes and opted to look out of the window for the remainder of the drive to the hospital.

-

“alright,” the doctor entered the room. “we have the results from the test and we’ve examined the ultrasound pictures. i’m so sorry, but you’ve had a miscarriage.”

what were you supposed to feel? an overwhelming sense of sorrow? like a failure? like the one thing you wanted most in the world fell through?

“how-how did this happen?” you spoke through the tears. “we were so-we were careful. i didn’t lift heavy objects, i didn’t do repetitive motions, i just… we tried so hard to make this work,” you shook your head in disapproval, as if you wouldn’t accept the answer that had already been proven to you.

“there’s proof of an abortion when you were a teenager. there was severe damage done to your cervix that wasn’t assessed pre-pregnancy. now, we can repair the damage within the next two months, but it will still be difficult to become pregnant after the surgery,” the female informed you.

“then what’s the point of getting the surgery?” you scoffed, looking at spencer who was just staring off in space.

“while getting pregnant will still be difficult, maintaining the pregnancy is much more likely. the fetus would be more protected and secure after the surgery,” she explained with a pitiful smile, you couldn’t help but wonder how she could smile after giving you the worst news of your life.

“right,” you nodded curtly, allowing her to sense the mood of the conversation.

“i’ll leave you two be. i’m so sorry for your loss,” she gave the both of you a pitiful smile before exiting the room, the only sound audible being the closing of the door.

it didn’t feel real. it felt as though you were in a nightmare. only this time, you wouldn’t wake in spencer’s comforting arms. you wouldn’t hear the soft soothing voice of the man you love trying to calm you down. you wouldn’t feel the solace he would provide by merely being himself in your proximity.

the drive home was eerily quiet. there was an inkling of animosity between you. looking over at spencer in the driver’s seat, he had a dead look on his face, the only sign of previous emotion being his red-rimmed eyes and tear-stained cheeks. he didn’t even look like your spencer. he looked like a stranger in the drivers seat with a cold expression that you could barely read.

you knew this was something you should talk about. when the nurse came back in the room it was only to offer a few referrals go therapists that specialized in this kind of grief. clearly, any couple should talk about losing an unborn baby. but you knew that’s not what spencer was truly upset about.

you waited until you shut the door to your apartment before saying anything.

“maybe we should talk about it?” you whispered, not knowing how he’d react.

“about what? the fact that you’ve lied to me for our entire relationship?!” he wouldn’t even turn around to face you. “i thought we were in this together, y/n. we aren’t supposed to keep secrets from each other - especially not any that just killed our child!”

“hey…” you winced at his words. “why would you say that?”

“that’s the truth! your choices when you were a teenager just killed our child! my child!” he finally turned to face you, and you wished he hadn’t.

“do you think i knew they would botch my abortion, spencer?! do you think that’s what i wanted?!” you stepped closer to him, he sighed and ran a hand through his hair.

“i don’t know what you want anymore, y/n,” he shook his head, clearly exasperated.

“i want you. i want to get the surgery to fix my cervix. i want to grieve our child. i still want kids… with you, spencer,” you tried to ease the mood, calm him down. you reached your hand out to cup his cheek before he dodged your touch, afraid of touching you. “but you don’t want that?” you whispered so quiet, too afraid of the answer to raise your voice.

“i-“ he sighed and bit his lower lip. “i don’t know.”

“right. of course you don’t,” you shook your head before sitting on the couch, dropping your face in your hands.

“what’s that supposed to mean?” he scoffed as he took off his coat.

“it means that: of course, you’re making this about you! it can’t be about us grieving our loss together like the doctor recommended?!” you peeked between your hands at the man you still didn’t recognize.

“maybe we shouldn’t grieve together since we can’t even have a conversation without getting angry at one another,” he tried to reason.

“the only reason i’m getting mad is because you’re blaming me for my baby’s death,” you spat back at the doctor before you.

“because it’s your fault!” he stood strong in his belief. “when you were a teenager, did you or did you not have an abortion?”

“i did,” you admitted.

“and the nurse said that in said abortion, they screwed your cervix up! if you didn’t have that abortion, our child would still be alive! we would be on our way to become happy parents!” he accused, rubbing salt in the already stinging wound. “it’s your fucking fault!”

“stop saying that,” you shook your head and dropped it back in your hands, trying to hide the tears that began to flow down your face.

“it is, y/n! i can’t believe you’re even trying to say this isn’t!” he chuckled, clearly getting under your skin.

“shut up, spencer!”

“i can’t, y/n!” he sat in the chair across from you before standing back up, too hyper to sit. “no wonder it was so hard for you to get pregnant.”

“spencer,” you begged him to stop, meeting his face with your teary eyes.

“y/n,” he stared you in the eyes, and you saw a glimpse of the man you loved for a second before he retreated to the bedroom.

you sat on the couch in confusion of what had just occurred.

when you were 15, you’re boyfriend was adamant about taking your relationship “to the next step.” you didn’t think you were ready to have sex, but you wanted him to stay with you. so, you gave in. it just so happened to be that you were one of the lucky girls that ends up getting pregnant her first time in spite of birth control and a condom. you couldn’t tell your mom about your pregnancy, she’d have your head on a pole.

so, you earned enough money from your job to get an abortion yourself. you went to a clinic and had your boyfriend’s mom come with you to sign as your guardian. was it smart to get an abortion that cheap? probably not. but you had no other choice. your mom had made it abundantly clear that if she caught you fooling around with him that she’d kick you out.

you were 15. you were young and still had to finish high school. there was no support system for you. you would’ve been on the streets with a little baby - not to mention the amount of debt you’d go into for just giving birth to a child in a hospital. it was the only choice.

and now you were being berated for making the only choice you even had - and by the person you loved most in the world.

you curled into yourself on the couch, laying your head on the arm and crying into the fabric. you released all of the tension and turmoil. you held onto the cushions as if it were the man that you wanted - no, needed to comfort you. because as much as you’d hate to admit it and try to fight those thoughts, part of you thought that spencer was right. it was your fault.

you fell asleep on the couch that night. you didn’t have the strength to get up to grab a blanket so you just sucked it up.

spencer didn’t sleep at all. he was used to having you curled into his chest, or himself on yours. he felt terrible about how he had talked to you, but he was too stubborn to admit anything just yet.

in the middle of the night he went out of the room to grab a glass of water. he saw you curled up in a ball, you head resting on the arm of the couch as you slept. it was the most peaceful you looked in the past 24 hours. but you began shivering as you slept. you were probably too exhausted to get up to do anything.

he went to the hall closet on a detour and grabbed your favorite, soft blanket and laid it on top of your body. after placing a soft kiss on your forehead, he went into the kitchen and made his glass of water before taking one more glance at you. you had snuggled into the blanket, pulling it up to your chin with a gentle smile that always appeared when he kissed your forehead as you slept.

maybe he didn’t screw up too badly, after all.

the next few days were spent avoiding one another. spencer couldn’t face you after knowing you had kept something so dire from him for the entirety of your relationship. you couldn’t face him after he made you feel as though it was your fault you lost your baby.

you would stay on the couch all day, barely eating or drinking anything while spencer would go out - only mentioning the library or the office to do more paperwork. eventually he just started sleeping at morgan’s house - probably because he couldn’t stand being around you.

you didn’t know how to grieve your baby, you were hoping that spencer might help, but that clearly won’t be happening. on top of that, you were worrying about your marriage. he couldn’t even look at you, how was he supposed to talk to you and sleep beside you?

a lot of times, it’s perceived that the only reason women were put on this planet were to have children - of course that’s a false notion, but it didn’t make it sting any less. your body had betrayed you. you had betrayed yourself.

it was only 12 days after spencer left when he came back home, if he could call it that anymore. once he walked into the living room, he saw you curled up in that same position on the couch. you had a blank stare that was directed towards the black tv. the only evidence that you were doing something was the empty water bottles surrounding you - certainly not enough considering he’d been gone for over a week.

when he entered you didn’t even flinch. your gaze stayed on the empty screen and your face remained vacant of any emotion.

in all honesty, morgan was the one to tell spencer he should check on you. spencer hadn’t told him everything about your argument, he knew he was in the wrong. but he was just so angry. regardless, he was here now, and it’s a good thing he was.

you hadn’t been taking care of yourself. spencer had morgan and savannah checking on him, but you had nobody. he only realized this when morgan pointed it out. and as upset as he was, spencer would always love you. your expressionless face only worried him more. your clothes had been changed from when he last saw you, but he doubts you’ve had a shower.

he stayed silent as he began picking up the empty water bottles from around the table and couch. you looked at him quizzically with furrowed brows.

“what’re you doing?” you asked, your chin already quivering as tears threatened to stream down your face.

“i’m trying to help,” he whispered as sensitively as he could, making eye contact with the most pitiful face you’d ever seen.

“i think you’ve helped enough,” you rolled your eyes before resuming your serious stare-down with the television. “you can leave.”

“no, i can’t,” he replied, sitting down on the opposite end of the couch while being sure not to touch you - he didn’t know if you were ready for that.

“you already did,” you brought to his attention, briefly looking at him. “just go.”

“y/n, i-“

“i don’t want to hear it! what’re you gonna say that could make me feel worse, spencer?!” you let the tears fall past your waterline. “i know it’s my fault. i know i screwed up! and i’m sorry! i’m so sorry!” you replied with far too much sincerity, the tears streaming down your face before he scooted closer to you, planning on wrapping his arms around you. “stop! don’t come near me!” you pushed his shoulders away. “it’s my fault,” you lowered your voice significantly before wrapping your arms around yourself.

he had called emily as soon as he got back into the bedroom. he knew she had previously had an abortion when she was a teenager, and he just needed to hear her side of it. part of him didn’t even expect her to pick up the phone.

“reid, what’s wrong?” she immediately answered.

“i-i think i need to talk to you,” he whispered in a hushed tone.

“right now?” she asked in a mildly concerned tone.

“if you can? the sooner the better,” he answered honestly.

“alright. you want to meet somewhere or just come over?”

“can i just come over? it’s really personal and i wasn’t sure who else to go to,” he began tying his shoes and hoping she’d agree.

“of course, come on over,” she replied in a worried voice.

“ok. i’ll be there in twenty.”

he quietly left the apartment, not before sparing you a regretful glance. he lost his child, but you also lost your child as well. he just couldn’t control his anger. and partially, he thought he was right.

how could you not have told him about something so serious? the second you had began having issues getting pregnant, maybe you should’ve been open about previous pregnancies.

“hey,” emily greeted before giving him a hug after seeing his teary eyes. “come inside.”

“thanks,” he sniffled before stepping into her apartment.

she guided him into her living room and sat down on the couch beside him. they sat there for a few silent minutes before he was able to work up enough courage.

“y/n was pregnant,” he whispered, barely audible if she weren’t right beside him.

“was,” she pointed out, already feeling as though she knew the rest of the story.

“she uhm-she miscarried two weeks ago,” he somberly admitted for the first time to someone else. “the doctor said it was because she had an abortion when she was a teenager that somehow ruined her cervix.”

“and that’s why you felt like you needed to talk to me?” she gathered, she was a great profiler for a reason but this was far more obvious.

“i was pretty harsh. i-i told her it was her fault,” he bit his lower lip as he grimaced. “i really rubbed it in, too.”

“spencer… “ she sighed, taking a deep breath before continuing. “you’re mourning a life, right now. obviously, that would raise tensions and emotions would be heightened. but… have you apologized? for telling her it was her fault?”

“no?” he replied after thinking about it. “i was going to do that today but she’s… she’s not in good shape. i’m not saying she needs to be perfect, but while i was at derek’s i can tell she didn’t take care of herself. she barely drank any water.”

“did you ask her why she had an abortion? why she didn’t tell you? did you ask her anything about how she’s feeling?” emily asked once more.

“no,” he cowered down, feeling even worse about the truthful answer. “i was just… selfish. i didn’t think about how she’s feeling. i just-i feel so bad now, seeing what state she’s in.”

“when i got an abortion it was because i wasn’t ready for a child,” she began to inform him. “i was a child, myself. how was a child supposed to take care of another one? my mother would’ve been disgraced. i basically had nobody there for me. i kept it a secret because having an abortion is so controversial. i knew people would look at me differently for making a responsible decision for my future.”

“god, i feel so bad,” he began to tear up himself. “i love her so much and i told her these horrible things.”

“make it right, spencer,” she gave him a supportive smile and pat his thigh before he stood up.

“i-i have to go,” he wiped the tears from his face before giving emily a hug, grateful she would listen to him at such an ungodly hour.

he quickly drove back home, where he decidedly belonged in the first place. he never should’ve left home. he never should’ve left you. you were his home, and he didn’t know how he could possibly lose sight of that.

“y/n,” he cooed as he entered the apartment once more. it was noticeably a bit more clean. the trash was taken out, the dishes were done, and your hair was wet from a shower - he assumed. “hey,” he smiled when he saw you sitting on the bed, cheeks still red and tear-stained with red, puffy eyes.

“hi,” you sighed as you brushed your hair, spencer sat down beside you.

“how’re you feeling?” you shrugged. “i need to apologize to you,” he admitted, placing a hand on your thigh. “i’m so, so sorry for what i said. telling you that it’s your fault that we lost our child… i-there’s no excuse. i was clearly upset, but so were you. what i said was so out of line, and i’ll never be able to express how sorry i am to you.”

“you’re right,” you shrugged. “it was my fault.”

“no,” he rubbed his thumb on your skin. “it was not your fault. i’m so sorry i made you believe that.”

“when i was 15 my boyfriend at the time pressured me to have sex. we used a condom and i was in birth control but i still-i still ended up pregnant,” you began, taking a deep breath before continuing. “i couldn’t tell my mom because she would’ve kicked me out, so i saved up some money and had his mom take me to a cheap clinic. she signed as my mom and i got the procedure done. that was the end of it,” you finished tears streaming down your face. “a few weeks after the procedure i started having pains in like my lower back, but i didn’t think anything of it. so… it is my fault. i shouldn’t have gone to a cheap clinic, but i couldn’t live on the streets with a baby and no way to clothe or feed them.”

“y/n,” he got your attention, wiping the tears from your cheeks. “you were a teenager who had no other choice, love. it’s not your fault, it’s the clinic’s.”

“i just… it hurts so bad, spencer,” you shook your head in defeat before he wrapped his arms around you. “not even just emotionally, my body physically hurts so bad. i don’t know what to do and i thought i lost you and i didn’t know what i would do without you because i didn’t think you loved me anymore because it’s my fault,” you ranted out, sobbing into his shoulder before he moved the two of you around the bed to lay down, you on his chest.

“i’m so sorry you had to go through that, and that you’re still dealing with the repercussions,” he pressed a kiss to your forehead. “but know that i’m not leaving you. i love you and nothing will ever change that.”

“there’s nothing we can do now,” you whined, clutching to his shirt as if he’d disappear once more.

“we can go to the recommended therapy. we can get that surgery to fix your cervix,” he reminded you, rubbing circles onto your back as you sniffled. “then, if you’d like, we could try again for a baby.”

“so you still want to be with me?” you whispered by his ear, clearly worried of the answer.

“of course i do,” he said as if there were no other option; there wasn’t. “i’m so, so sorry, love.”

“the reason i didn’t tell you is because,” you sighed as you shuffled on top of spencer, now sitting on his lap and facing him. “because there’s this stigma that comes with having an abortion - and i didn’t know how you’d react. i also didn’t know it didn’t go well in the first place, but that’s a different story,” you chuckled. “i’m sorry. i should’ve told you about something so serious.”

“you don’t have to apologize,” he brushed a strand of hair from your face. “that was from your past. this is our future, we shouldn’t get caught up on it and allow it to ruin this.”

you nodded, “you’re right. are-are you staying here, now? or are you going back to derek’s?” there was an obvious look of hope in your eye that spencer never planned on squashing.

“i’m staying here,” he smiled. “home. you’re my home.”

“you’re so cheesy,” you rolled your eyes as a laugh left your lips.

“i’ve missed your smile,” he pressed a kiss to those very lips, your smile not going away but growing even bigger.

“i’ve missed you,” you pointed at his chest. “please don’t leave again.”

“i won’t. ever again,” you held your pinky out, he smiled and wrapped his own around it. “i’m so sorry.”

“we’ll work at it,” you sighed. “we’ll build back the trust and fix my stupid cervix and then maybe try again for a baby.”

over the next few months spencer and you had been going to therapy once a week, mourning the loss of your baby and working through your other issues.

five months after you found out about the miscarriage, you had the surgery to fix your cervix.

one year after you fixed your cervix you and spencer began talking about having a child. you were extremely nervous, rightfully so. you voiced your concerns to spencer about what if the surgery didn’t work? what if your cervix wasn’t the only issue? and he replied by reminding you that you would both take this one step at a time.

seven months after having the conversation with spencer about having children, a miracle had caught up to you.

you were pregnant.

taglist:

@averyhotchner

@greenprisca

@muffin-cup

@spenxerslut

@spencerreid9

@spencyreidpls

@spencerreid9

@spencersmagic

@calm-and-doctor

@the-local-pendeja

@spencersrose

@spencersmagic

@shemarmooresfedora

@pastelbabygirl19

if you’d like to be added to the taglist, please don’t hesitate to message me or leave a comment!

[whereisten]

No Overnight Stays (m)

Summary: you’re an escort assigned to a different man for each day of the week. The rules are simple and strict, the money is grand, and simply put, you enjoy your job. But what happens when you start to develop feelings for one—or maybe two—of your clients?

Pairing: Female reader x Mark (x Jaehyun)

Genre: sugar baby!reader, smuttttt, a little fluff and a dash of angst :/ sorry, love triangle

Warnings: alcohol use, cursing, descriptive smut (breast fondling, fingering, oral sex (m and f receiving), cockwarming, slight somnophilia, facial, threesome, cream pie, impregnation kink, dirty talk, sir kink, hair pulling and spanking, double penetration, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, unprotected sex (be safe tho!), rough sex) I hope that’s it lmaooo

Word Count: 5.5K

————-

A man for every day of the week. That was your agreement with your escort agency. They’d set up your schedule so that you’d “belong” to one man for a specific day of the week. 

Some days you’d have sex with them, some days you were just their company or a place for them to go when they got tired of their spouses.

But either way, you were paid very handsomely for your services. All you had to do was have your phone on and make sure you were available to provide the services asked of you within the hour. They all had keys to your apartment, so they could let themselves in and wait if you weren’t there.

It was easy and luckily for you, the men you dealt with were all young business men that respected you. Some were rough and demanding, some were soft and shy, but they all made sure you were comfortable with their requests and granted you a safe word. Furthermore, the agency provided you with emergency buttons for you to place in every room, just in case one of your clients got out of hand.

Tonight, you had just finished up with Yuta, an incredibly handsome man that was away from his wife back home in Japan for a 6 month job venture. A pal of his suggested the agency to him so that his needs would be satisfied while he was away from home and based on his preferences and desires, you were his top choice.

He was kind and careful, whispering sweet words into your ear as he fingered you and got you ready. He treated you like you were his wife, and you often felt your face become warm. But when he was inside you, he pushed deep and hard, making sure his hips met with your ass as he bent you over the table.

“Ahh fuck..” he curses while releasing himself into you and tugging on your hair harshly.

He pants and pulls himself out, watching as his cum mixed with yours leaks down your shaking legs.

“Did you eat?” He asks, zipping his pants as he watches you pull your panties back up.

“No not yet, but I have some leftover spaghetti that is calling my name.”

You move your hair out of your face.

“I can grab something for you before I leave..what would you like?” Yuta shimmies his jacket onto his toned body.

He was always sweet like this, unlike some men that just left.

“Ohh—Hmm...there’s a place—“ you started but his phone interrupted you.

“Oh..I’m sorry..it’s her..” He looks up at you slowly and you can see the regret fall on his face. He really loved his wife, he couldn’t help but feel guilty sometimes.

“I-I have to go.”

He turns to leave and you walk behind him to lock the door.

“Hey hun! I just left work!” His voice echoes in the hallway.

You sigh and walk to your bathroom with a slight limp. Yuta always stretched you out and left you aching slightly, but you knew it was something a little warm water would fix.

While you stood under the hot water like a sinner bathing in hell, you thought about your life. Were you really happy? Sure, the easy money you made and the “free” upscale apartment you lived in were amazing. How could you ask for more?

Well that’s just the thing, your heart didn’t care about these material things sometimes, it wanted a person. Someone that would love you, really love you. However, with a lifestyle like this, how could you expect to find a partner that would be okay with it? How could you devote time to them?

You shook your head and stepped out of the grand shower.

You poured yourself some wine and sat by yourself on the couch. It was a typical night for you. When all the fun was over, you were alone.

———

[The Next Day]

You went grocery shopping when Mark dinged you on the agency’s app. He’d be at your apartment soon so you needed to wrap things up and get back.

Mark was possibly your favorite client. The young single man was very gentle and always asked what you wanted to do. Of course, he knew that he wanted to have sex and that’s what he paid for, but he didn’t feel comfortable with handling your arranged situation that way.

Some days you’d just watch a few movies or go for coffee together. Some days he’d show you new restaurants or museums while you hung onto his arm like an actual girlfriend. He wasn’t afraid to bring you with him anywhere because the truth was that he wanted you to be his...and not just in the sexual or physical way. He wanted to date you.

Having been so consumed with work all the time, he found that you were one of the few things that made him relax and be happy, he could experience life with you and he was incredibly thankful for that.

“Hey Mark!” You struggle to get into your apartment with both arms filled with bags.

“Oh, let me get that for you.” He rushes over from the dining table and to the door to help you in.

After settling all of the bags onto the table, he chuckles. “So I take it you don’t like making two trips?”

You giggle and shake your head. “No..absolutely not. I don’t wanna waste precious time that I could be spending with you.” You teased him and stepped closer.

You held out your arm and flexed it, embarrassingly enough, no muscles showed through. “Plus, can’t you see how strong I am?”

Mark laughs out and leans forward to kiss you.

He holds your face in his hands like you were made of glass, gently caressing your cheeks as your tongue dances with his.

Your arms wrap around his waist so you feel his warm chest on yours. Your eyes shut immediately and you smelled his fresh cologne, like cotton.

He pulls away, kissing your forehead as you regain your steady breathing.

“What do you want to do today?”

Your heart races at his question. You wanted to cuddle, to just be with someone and feel loved. But that would be pushing the terms and conditions.

You search your apartment to avoid his gaze, but he knew you were deep in thought, his kiss had sent your mind into a wild frenzy. What did it mean when an escort was affected by such measly things? 

“Come on..don’t think too hard now, tell me what’s the first thing that came into your mind?” Mark leans forward to whisper low into your ear. His voice, deep and husky, makes you even more confused.

You finally look up at him and sigh. “Ahh Mark, you make me feel..” You shake your head.

Were you about to be honest with him and tell him about your growing crush?

His eyes grow and a smile creeps across his face.

“Like sleeping..” You look down again, never seeing his face fall.

“Oh, dude..am I that boring?”

You chuckle and look back up at him to see the genuine hurt in his eyes.

You shake your head and press your hand onto his chest. “No-No, you’re not..it’s just..”

“Y/n...why do you keep looking at me like that?” Mark knew there was something else you wanted, he could see the doubt in your eyes, the internal struggle you faced was coming to the surface. He also knew you drank the night before based on the empty bottle of wine in the living room.

“I-I don’t know,” You chuckle and step away from him. “Maybe I’m still a little hungover. I’m sorry.”

You start to take your things out of your bags. “Help me out, will you?” You pout.

Mark chuckles and takes the bread out of the bag. “I can’t believe I’m paying for this.”

You shrug your shoulders. “You’re the one that asked me what I want to do.”

He sighs. “Okay, touché. But after this, we’ll cuddle and sleep since you’re tired and/or hungover.”

Yeah, it was 6 in the evening, but Mark was just happy to be with you.

“Sounds good.”

After you put everything away, you took Mark to your room and sat him down on the bed.

You took his hoodie off over his head, ruffling his hair in the process. You ran your fingers through it, watching as his wide eyes gazed up at you like you were an angel.

He places both hands on either side of your waist, watching as you unbutton your cardigan in front of him slowly. Mark grows hotter and hotter with each button coming undone, a slight sliver of your beautiful, soft skin growing into your naked chest drives him crazy.

“God, you’re beautiful.”

He licks his lips, tightening his grip on your waist as he brings you down onto his lap. He wastes no time, latching into your nipple and sucking it. His tongue flicks across the nub while your hands run through his scalp, causing a low groan to escape his body.

He aches for you, his member strains against his sweatpants. You feel it press onto your jeans as you also get hot. With the way Mark’s spit coats your breasts, you’re sure you’d be showing through your jeans how aroused you are soon enough.

Your room becomes steamy suddenly, the two of you filling it with moans and whimpers as he massages your breasts.

“B-baby..I want you..” You whine and grind down onto him. 

Mark loves when you call him that while begging for more.

He places you down onto the bed, helping you take your jeans off as your mouth falls open.

He drags your panties down your legs slowly, teasingly.

“Baby..please..”

“I thought you wanted to sleep?” He raises an eyebrow as he pries your legs open and moves his face to the space created.

He focuses on your heat, licking his lips when he sees how wet you are already.

“Yeah..but..” your sentence is cut short when he licks a long stripe along your entrance.

“Mark!” You yelp as his tongue surprises you.

He kisses the inner skin of your thigh while still gripping the crooks of your knees. “Yes, sweetheart. Do you want me to stop? Does the little baby want to sleep?”

He asks with a mocking tone, but not without brushing two digits over your clit. You gasp and flinch under him.

“You’re so cruel..” 

“Don’t worry, sweetheart, I’ll just fuck you to sleep if that’s what you want.”

He says before pushing his fingers in harder, finding that fleshy spot instantly as your legs widen more. He kisses your bud while looking up at you through dark eyes.

“Am I the best one?” He asks innocently, fingers still pumping in and out of your soaking entrance.

“Y-yes..” you immediately answer without thinking, your mind solely focused on the building tension in your stomach.

He moves his head up and down as he licks your clit. He just needs to apply a bit more pressure and you’ll be in the clouds.

You intertwine your fingers with locks of his luscious brown hair and arch your back.

“More baby, please.”

“Oh look at you begging..” he breathes against your aching pussy.

He fingers pump harder and caress that one spot that he knows will have you reeling in just a few minutes.

“You know..I think you should just be mine..will you be mine?”

He says in between kisses on your clit.

And you’re so close, all you can do is nod and whimper.

You lick your lips while looking at the gorgeous man in between your legs. He locks eyes with you as his tongue works wonders on your core when combined with his fingers.

You clench around him from the sight. He chuckles and cracks a smile at how easily you fall apart. But he doesn’t let you experience the so desperately needed orgasm you need. He withdraws his fingers, a pop echoes into the room. 

“Mark?!” You cry out at the sudden emptiness.

Mark mimics your pout and hovers over you.

“Why don’t you answer my question first?”

You caress his face and lick your lips. “Can we talk about this later?”

He shakes his head. “It’s a simple question, y/n. I know you feel it too.”

He was right, you did feel a connection with him, but you couldn’t let him know that. You could lose your job.

“Mark..” you whisper low as you bring his face closer to yours. You lock eyes with him, your gaze shifting from an innocent one to one that is filled with lust and fire.

“The only thing I want to feel right now is your cock..I just want to feel it so deep in my silky, wet pussy.”

He swallows hard as you push your body up slightly to rub your entrance against his crotch.

“Come on, baby..fill me up...I won’t let a single drop escape”

Mark can’t take your lustful words any longer. He pushes his prior thoughts to the side and focuses on easing his painfully hard cock.

He immediately pushes his waistband down and looks into your eyes as he pushes into you. You moan as you feel completely satisfied by his long and girthy cock filling you up and touching all parts of your velvety walls instantly.

He watches your head fall into the pillow behind you and kisses your neck.

“God..I hate the way you make me so fucking horny that I forget what I was even asking..”

It was a lie, Mark knew exactly what he was asking, but decided to push it away since you wouldn’t give in to him.

He rarely cursed when he was with you, a part of you felt that you had awoken something deep within him so you decided to push him along further. He thrusts into you slowly and gently like he usually did. Mark was your typical vanilla sex partner and it made for a great balance to the opposite partners you had. But you wanted to see just how riled up he could get.

“Oh, Mark, just yesterday another man fucked me until I couldn’t walk..how can I be yours if you can’t compete with men like that?”

You hold his face in your hand and look into his eyes.

He chuckles and pushes into you hard and sudden.

“If that’s what you want, Princess, that’s all you have to say..you know I can do whatever you ask.”

“Be rough with me, make me yours..baby.”

He presses your knees far apart and lifts himself up from your chest.

He slides in and out of you hard, watching as your breasts move up and down from his thrusts.

“You’re the perfect fit for me."

He tilts his head to the side and goes deeper.

His cock curves into you at the perfect angle, making you clench and arch your back more.

You’re sprawled out under him, your knees to your chest as you bite your bottom lip and feel that tension build again.

He runs a hand down your warm chest and stomach, his fingers draw circles onto your skin, causing small fires to dance across it. The pads of his fingertips then lift the skin above your pussy, exposing your clit to him.

He taps it gently and hums to himself. “So pretty..”

He thrusts into you hard as you squeal.

His other hand finds your throat and grips it.

“Gonna fuck you to sleep just like you asked..but then..I won’t leave..I’ll stay inside your pretty pussy since it’s mine..and I’ll fuck it again in the morning...since it’s mine.”

Mark wasn’t asking anymore. He was going to make you his. And as much as you wanted that to happen, you were nervous as you had a job to fulfill. If he stayed over and into the next morning, he’d be cutting into your other client’s day. You could be caught with him and receive a complaint for breaking the “no overnight stays” rule.

“I’m so close..” You run your hands down his abs and watch as he pounds into you from above. He pants heavily, his palm feels sweaty around your throat.

“Can’t wait to cum deep inside you..nothing will leak out..Isn’t that right, baby?” His fingertips move faster into your clit. Mark was always great at finding your sweet spots and it was because he truly cared about your pleasure.

You nod and clench around him again, feeling the head of his cock twitch.

His movement stutters from the action, he falls forward as his grip on your neck tightens.

He cums into your body, filling you to the brim with everything he has. 

You climax as well, scratching into his back as you arch into him more. Your eyes roll into the back of your head as you curse.

That was the first of many climaxes for that night. You’d take breaks in between, but soon Mark was eating you out or fingering you until your nails dug into his back and you cried out his name loud enough for the neighbors to hear. 

He wasn’t letting up on his promise to make you his, as each orgasm was intense and left you feeling dizzy. He was unlike any partner you had, making sure to care for your needs more than he did for his. He never even asked that you kiss him anywhere else but his mouth. 

Mark releases your throat and lays on top of your sweaty body as you both climax one last time.

“You really aren’t leaving, are you?”

“I meant what I said. You’re mine.”

A brief moment of silence rests between the two of you as you massage his scalp.

“I mean, I can leave if you want me to..”

He looks up at you with round, doe eyes and your heart breaks.

“No—no..stay..” Sleep takes you over suddenly.

He watches your cute face and smiles. “Mind if I wake you up in the best way possible?” 

You chuckle with your eyes closed.

“And how will you do that?”

“You’ll just have to wait and see..”

He lays back down and falls asleep on your chest.

———

[The Next Morning]

It’s the afternoon of the next day when Mark wakes up before you do and finds his cock engulfed in your pussy still.

He swallows hard, immediately feeling himself grow when he sees your eyes closed as you pout your lips and breathe heavily.

“Y/n..” He whispers, but your eyes don’t open yet.

“Y/n..” He says once more, this time he picks himself up and cages you in between his arms as he holds himself up above your head.

He kisses your forehead. “Wake up, Princess.”

He then buries his head into the crook of your neck and fondles your breast. 

He couldn’t hold back much longer, but he wanted you to be awake first. He lays sloppy kisses onto your shoulder before biting it.

“Mmm..Mark..” You say drowsily.

And with the sound of your soft voice and the feeling of your delicate fingers on his waist, Mark begins to thrust into you.

Your eyes are still closed as he fucks you into consciousness, the post-dream haze combined with his kisses and long thrusts makes you feel light headed.

“How does it feel, baby?”

He moves in and out of you while panting.

You mumble something while enjoying the warmth of his pulsing body on yours. He presses his thumb on your clit, rubbing circles. 

“Mm..faster, baby.” you mumble as your heat grows, your eyes closed while you enjoy your realistic dream.

He then intertwines his fingers with yours, and moves into you faster. Within just a few minutes he cums hard as you shake around him.

And it’s not until he pulls out of you and flips onto his back that he realizes there’s another man in the room.

At the edge of the bed stands a tall handsome man with black hair. He stares sternly onto your body with his hands in the pockets of his suit jacket.

“Oh shit!” Mark is frightened and quickly drapes the blanket over you.

“Who the hell are you?” He asks.

You finally pry your eyes open and scratch your head.

“It’s me...y/n.”

“N-no no I mean..who is that and why is he just staring? Dude.. what the hell?!”

“What?” You rub your eyes and look up. And as your eyes focus you see that sure enough it was your Tuesday client, Jaehyun, staring intensely at you.

“Oh fuck..” You struggle to sit up straight in the bed. “Jaehyun..I’m so sorry, I overslept and-and..”

“Shhh..it’s okay, y/n..” His voice is sweet, but his face says the opposite.

“I see someone has gotten quite greedy with you..”

You turn to Mark, and it all comes back to you. He said he would stay over and you knew the risk you were taking, but you allowed him to anyway.

“Do you want me to push the emergency button?” Jaehyun asks smoothly.

“N-no! That won’t be necessary, I let him stay over actually..”

Your face becomes warm, it feels like you were caught by a parent with your boyfriend.

“I didn’t hear my phone go off with the alert saying you’d be coming over, I’m so sorry but he can leave and I’ll get cleaned up and we can start, just give me a few minutes—“

You start to get off the bed, but Jaehyun raises his hand.

“It’s okay, y/n..I know you see other men, that’s your job, isn’t it?” Jaehyun smirks.

He was one of those clients whose calm demeanor was difficult to read. He was intimidating and made you feel like you were up for terrible punishment at any moment. You never seemed to answer his questions to his satisfaction. In part to his recent divorce, he was rough, unforgiving, a stark contrast to Mark who just sat there awkwardly on the bed.

You nod slowly.

His gaze turns to Mark, his hands still in his pockets. “Was my slut good for you?”

“My?” Hold on..she doesn’t belong to you and no, she’s not a slut..”

Without moving his eyes, Jaehyun calls out to you. “Y/n...remove the blanket and open your legs for me..”

You immediately do as he says, but Mark stops you by holding your wrist. “Hey, you don’t have to do that.”

“It’s okay, Mark. This is what I do, please don’t forget that.” You give him a small smile as you lift the blanket.

You bend your knees while widening your legs.

You can feel the cool air hit your moist entrance.

“Now look at her, Mark...look at how much cum is in her beautiful pussy..only a slut can look like that..”

“Oh fuck off..”

“No, YOU fuck off, you’re cutting into my time..or don’t..”

Jaehyun loosens his tie and takes his jacket off.

“As a matter of fact, let’s see how much prettier she looks when she’s filled up with both of us, what do you say Mark?”

Mark begins to panic and turns to you. 

“What..“

“Stay...I want to make you feel good too..” you say, knowing that Jaehyun’s proposal wasn’t really a question. He was going to find some way to make Mark stay, it was his way of punishing both him and you.

“Good girl..” Jaehyun zips his pants down, revealing his already hard member. He grew when he watched Mark fuck you out of your sleep. He wanted to do that badly, but understood long ago the rules for this agreement. One of them being “no overnight stays.” But Mark clearly didn’t respect this. Maybe he thought you were his, but surely he was wrong.

Jaehyun wanted you just as badly as he did, and he wouldn’t stop until you were his.

“On your stomach, sweetheart, show him what your mouth can do..”

“Yes, sir.” You’re still weak from the night before but do as you’re told.

“Y/n..you don’t have to..” Mark caresses your face with his thumb.

“I know..but I want to..”

“She wants to please us..isn’t that right, slut?” Jaehyun brings an arm under your stomach to bring your ass up towards him.

“Y-yes, sir.” You struggle to get out once you feel his cock rub against your thigh.

You start by wrapping your hand around Mark’s semi-flaccid length, you pump it up and down while twisting. He groans and sits up straight.

Jaehyun enters you from behind, gripping your hip tightly as he pushes into you hard.

You moan loudly as his long cock stretches you out without warning.

“Ahh..fuck.” You gasp.

He slaps your ass hard, you stumble slightly on your knees but Mark helps you stay up.

“Don't be like that, sweetheart, I see how wet you are. Now, open your fucking mouth.”

“I’m sorry, sir.” You whimper then lick Mark’s tip.

“You’re just a slut with cum leaking out of you all the time, you’re always ready, aren’t you?”

You kiss Mark’s tip then answer Jaehyun. “Yes, sir.”

He hums and slaps your ass again.

He rubs his hand over the area to feel it become warm.

He then pulls back and watches his veiny cock glisten with cum.

Meanwhile, you take half of Mark’s length into your mouth and begin to suck, rubbing the tip on the inside of your cheek as you listen to him groan.

Jaehyun buries himself deep inside you again, pushing past your vibrating entrance and deep into your walls where he feels his cock be greeted with that ticklish spot.

You move your head lower and allow spit to coat Mark’s entire length.

“God..that feels good.” He moans as his head falls back.

You suck harder and continue to twist your hand around his base.

You hum to push him along with vibrations.

The sounds of Jaehyun’s hips slapping against your ass gets louder as he glides in faster.

“Her pussy gets wetter and wetter, tsk tsk what a slut.” 

He pushes harder, bending over your back so his abs rest against it. He grabs your hair and pushes your head down onto Mark faster.

You gag and tears escape your eyes as Mark’s length hits the back of your throat repeatedly.

You gag over and over, causing the two men to become even hotter than they were before.

“That’s it, sweetheart, cry for me..”

And you did cry as your throat became irritated and your pussy was being destroyed from the back, Jaehyun stretched it out more than he ever did, but you didn’t want to stop. 

You felt like you were being undone, like you wouldn’t be able to talk or walk after, but it didn’t matter, just as long as you pleased these two men.

Jaehyun’s hand finds your clit, slapping against it before rubbing circles onto it.

You moan loudly, sending a delicious vibration onto Mark. He whimpers and pulls out of your mouth, before watching spurts of white leave his tip and decorate your mouth and tongue.

Your mouth stays open as Jaehyun pulls your head back towards him now. Your breasts jump forward and back as Mark pants and watches you be brought to paradise by another man.

“Sir..I’m going to..”

Jaehyun grunts. “You don’t deserve to cum, but I’ll let you because you’re a needy slut.”

And with that, you quiver around Jaehyun, gripping the pillows and shaking uncontrollably.

Mark feels himself becomes aroused yet again from the sight.

Jaehyun pulls out quickly and sits against the headboard. He picks your body up and puts you over his lap, but doesn’t push his cock into you yet.

“Mark..I think you should return the favor.” Jaehyun says as he grabs the crook of your knees with each hand opens you up.

Mark gladly agrees and puts his head in between your legs once more. He licks up your essence and begins to eat you out, nuzzling his nose against your clit as you cry out. 

Jaehyun takes your chin and turns your fucked out face towards his while you struggle to close your legs. 

“S-sir..please, it’s too much.”

Jaehyun shakes his head. “Nothing is too much for a whore like you..Mark loves your pussy, and so do I.”

He kisses your shoulder as a strand of hair dangles in his forehead.

He flicks your nipples with his fingers, watching as you fall apart in his arms.

Mark’s head moves from side to side as he licks your bud and pushes as hard as he can.

“Look at you..open wide for two men.”

Jaehyun whispers into your ear as you tremble. “We won’t stop until we’ve both put a baby in you...but you’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

“Yes..fuck..yes..sir.”

Soon, you’re cumming again and seeing stars.

Mark pulls away and wipes his mouth, watching as your wetness ruins the sheets below you.

“Do you think she can take us both?” Jaehyun still plays with your hard nipples.

Mark chuckles. “I’m not really into sharing..but we should find out.” He caresses your face again as your mouth falls open.

He puts his thumb into it, watching as you suck it hard with your teary eyes wide.

Jaehyun lifts you up slightly so he can enter you again.

You fall onto him easily but whimper as you try to overcome your sensitivity.

Jaehyun forces you open wide with his hands on your knees, your feet dig into the bed as you bounce up and down on him. His touch sends electricity through your veins. 

Mark holds his cock in his own hand, stroking it while watching you fall onto Jaehyun’s length.

Your beautiful entrance is soaked and he just wants to feel it too.

Jaehyun looks into Mark’s hungry eyes and lets out a low growl.

“Go on, Mark. Fuck her like the needy whore she is.”

Jaehyun scoots down on the bed more so he is laying under you. Mark lays down over you and guides his tip along your slit.

“Mark..” you cry out while Jaehyun thrusts into you from below.

“Are you sure?” He licks his lips.

You nod and take his length into your own hand. “Yes..”

You push him into you slowly as Jaehyun pauses his movement. Your head falls back as your pussy is stretched out once more. You’d never done this before, but then again, you’d never been with two men.

“Shit...” you close your eyes tightly as both men fill you up.

Jaehyun sits up, holding you in his arms as he guides you up and down both his and Mark’s cocks now. 

You’re so right and Mark is embarrassed to admit that he is just moments from climaxing already, the friction of two cocks against your tight silky walls driving all of you crazy.

“Mmm..sweetheart, you’re doing so well..”

Jaehyun whispers. His tone is gravelly and he is just moments away also, sweat pricking at his forehead as you glide onto him.

The sound of skin against skin and loud moans and groans fills the room, you wonder if your neighbors will make a complaint. But right now, in this moment of complete ecstasy, you could care less.

Jaehyun’s tip twitches, vibrating against Mark’s and hitting your g-spot. You all come undone within seconds and experience an orgasm that lasts for what feels like an eternity.

All three of you collapse onto the bed, and you and Jaehyun fall asleep soon after. You should’ve cleaned yourself up, but your body aches and feels weak after orgasming so many times.

After 20 minutes of just watching you sleep, Mark gets up from the bed and goes to your bathroom. He comes back with a washcloth and cleans you up gently while watching you snore lightly.

Jaehyun’s back is turned to you so he can’t see Mark taking care of you by cleaning your exhausted body.

Before he leaves, he drapes your blanket over you and kisses your forehead. He also leaves a bouquet of flowers that he bought from someone selling them just outside of your apartment building. He went back to your apartment just to leave them there for you when you woke up. But really, he just wanted one last chance to see your beautiful face as you slept peacefully.

You wake up hours later to find yourself alone once again. You hop out of bed but soon remember what happened based on the aching feeling in your legs.

You’re happy to see that you're clean however, the sticky feeling of cum no longer being all over you. Someone must’ve cleaned you up, you thought to yourself.

With a limp, you walk out to your kitchen and see take-out food on your counter with a note attached, beside it you also see a bouquet of flowers. 

“Thanks for today, see you next week. Love, J.”

Jaehyun left you food, flowers, and cleaned you up before he left. Maybe he did care for you after all. This is what you thought as you smiled to yourself.

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

If I Fell For You (Part 1) - The Nanny

Summary: The reader interviews for a new live-in nanny position with Jensen and quickly gets the job but she starts to slowly see that her new employer is going to be different than any other she’s had before...

Masterlist

Pairing: Jensen x nanny!reader

Square: Slow Burn

Word Count: 4,800ish

Warnings: language, mention of death of a spouse/death of a parent

A/N: Please enjoy the first part of this series! This was also written for @supernatural-jackles​ Tell Me A Story Bingo!

________

If someone had said you’d be celebrating your 30th birthday by accepting an interview to be a live in nanny when you were a kid, you would have told them they were nuts. Beyond nuts. Beyond help for that matter.

But there you were. Thirty. Single. Childless. Taking care of other people’s families and not doing much else with your life. You weren’t sure if your mom would have been on you about the no kids thing or the no boyfriend thing more to be honest.

But the pay was normally good and sometimes great and it gave you a taste of family, even if you were just the help to the adults most of the time.

You buzzed the button by the gate at the end of the driveway, a brief moment passing before it opened. It was probably on a timer like most of the people you’d worked for before, an alarm system kicking on at some point in the evening that required a buzz in, the code or a car sensor. You drove down the driveway and parked a little behind a black SUV. The house was a little modern, a little grand, a little overwhelming. A fence and lots of trees surrounded the property. The yard appeared large but you could see houses on either side. Private but suburban. 

The cadillac wasn’t a shocker. Most everyone in these neighborhoods had Escalades. You walked past an open garage on the way up, a muscle car and a more modest smaller SUV parked inside. You went up the very short path and stepped up, ringing the doorbell and fixing your shirt. You were in jeans and a plain gray shirt. It was your normal wear for chasing small children around all day and you weren’t a fan of uniforms.

“Hi,” said a very tired, very handsome man as he opened the door. “You must be from Nanny Core.”

“I’m Y/N Y/L/N from Home Pair,” you said with a smile. He shut his eyes and leaned his head against the door. 

“The last girl was from Nanny Core,” he said. He blinked them open and shook his head. “I’m so sorry. Yes, Y/N. You’re the one that’s a consultant, not firmly associated with Home Pair, right?”

“Correct,” you said as he opened the door more and you stepped inside.

“Can I ask what the distinction is?”

“Mostly it has to do with benefits,” you said. “Consultants pay out of pocket for their own or negotiate with their client for those to be covered.”

“Gotcha,” he yawned. You looked ahead and he wiped his hand over his face. “I’m sorry. I must seem like an ass.”

“You seem tired is all Mr. Ackles. Not a crime,” you said with a smile. He nodded and he returned it, no fake cheesiness to it. 

“Mind if we do the interview in the kitchen over a cup of coffee?” he asked.

“Wherever you like, sir,” you said. You took off your shoes when you noticed he didn’t wear any inside and he chuckled as you walked back farther into the house.

“Uh, for the record, call me Jensen. None of that sir stuff. They must teach that at nanny school or something huh?” he said, motioning to a table. “I noticed all of you do it.”

“Something like that,” you said. You took a seat and watched him go to a coffee machine, fumbling with it before he spilled some ground coffee on the counter. He shut his eyes and gripped the counter’s edge, taking a deep breath to himself. “How about I make the coffee and you take a seat, hm?”

“I’m okay,” he said as he opened his eyes. 

“Well making you coffee is probably going to come up in my job quite a bit so consider this part of the interview. It’s alright, really,” you said. He glanced over to you and you smiled. 

“Thank you,” he said. You swapped places with him and got him a cup going, taking a mug off the counter and waiting a beat before liquid started pouring out. “I’m gonna ask you the same question I’ve asked all seven other women I’ve talked to today.”

“Yes?”

“Why should I trust you to watch my children?”

“Honestly?” you asked as he nodded. You smiled and carried the cup over to him, Jensen taking a long sip. “You shouldn’t.”

“I shouldn’t. That seems counterproductive.”

“I wouldn’t trust any stranger with my child. Trust is earned, not given. I think the real question is do you believe I’m capable of earning that trust with you and that’s something intrinsically only you know.”

“How so?”

“You meet a lot of different kinds of people with this job. My gut reaction to you is stressed, overwhelmed, sleep-deprived father who doesn’t really want any nanny at all but is forced into this situation. It’s going to be impossible for you to trust any of the seven woman from earlier or me off the bat, Jensen. You should be thinking of who will you come to trust. Who can you count on.”

“This is why my wife should have been the one doing this,” he said, smiling to himself as he drunk down most of the hot liquid.

“We could always re-schedule for when she’s available.”

“Oh, we’d have to wait a very long time for that,” he chuckled. He sat the mug down and glanced down briefly, smiling as he looked up. “She passed away unexpectedly six months ago. Car accident.”

“I’m sorry for your loss,” you said. He nodded and made a face like he wanted to make a comment. “My mom died kinda unexpectedly. I know it’s...harder.”

“You’re young. How old?”

“Turned thirty today,” you said. He laughed and you heard the life behind it, Jensen shaking his head.

“Well Happy Birthday. I meant with your mother though. If that’s okay with you I mean.”

“It’s fine. I was sixteen,” you said. 

“That...fucking sucks doesn’t it?”

“So does losing your wife,” you said. 

“Yes it does. I’ve grieved. We all have. The kids are small. They’ll be okay.”

“Is dad okay?” you asked.

“Yes. Ready to start moving on with life again,” he said with a soft smile. “You’re kind. Not in a I’m trying to get this job kind of way. Just kind.”

“Well being cruel doesn’t sound like very much fun,” you said.

“You’re not trying to impress me.”

“The first rule of nannying, Jensen. You think you’re interviewing us when in reality we’re interviewing you too.”

“How am I doing so far?”

“Nice coffee choice,” you said with a smile that he nodded at. “You respect people. You’ll employ me but won’t treat me like I’m second class. You’re checking the boxes so far.”

“What if I don’t check all the boxes?”

“You don’t get to know the luxury of knowing the answer yet, Mr. Ackles,” you said. “Interview isn’t over.”

“You got fucked over by somebody, didn’t you.”

“Also perceptive,” you said. “Like I said, I don’t tolerate being treated unkindly anymore. It’s why I left my last position.”

“I have one more question,” he said. “Would you treat my children like they’re your own?”

“Again, asking the wrong question,” you said. He sat back and crossed his arms, smirking at you.

“What exactly should I be asking?”

“Will you treat my children kindly and with respect but take charge when required?”

“What’s the difference?”

“One is me doing my job and the other is me doing yours.”

“How old did you say you were again?”

“Thirty today.”

“Right. Well I think I know where I stand. Do you have anything for me?”

“Can you show me a picture of your kids?” you asked. He reached into his back pocket and pulled out his wallet. “You answered my question.”

“I didn’t show you anything yet.”

“You’d be surprised how many fathers I’ve met don’t carry pictures of their children in their wallets. That one is just a me thing.”

“Your dad do that?” he asked as he tucked it away.

“Maybe,” you said with a shrug. He was polite enough to not go down that route though and this was already getting more personal than you anticipated. “I think I know where I stand as well.”

“I’d like to hire you,” he said.

“Assuming our negotiations go well, I accept,” you said. He held out his hand over the table and you shook it.

“I did come up with what I thought was fair for salary and benefits. Let me go grab the paperwork and hopefully settle on something,” he said. He excused himself and you looked around the house, already trying to familiarize yourself with things. He was more relaxed when he returned with some papers and a notebook, handing you a few sheets. “If I’m missing anything let me know. I-”

“This is my weekly rate?” you asked when you saw the number at the top of the page.

“Oh no. That’s your daily,” he said as he took a seat. “So I think that’s-”

“Jensen,” you said, pushing the paper back. “I have to ask, things like insurance, are those coming out of your pocket or mine?”

“I’ll cover the expenses of your health, dental, all of that. You just choose and I’ll subsize it as part of your paycheck,” he said. 

“This is for a live in position. Um...can you just...explain what makes up that daily rate number?” you asked.

“It’s simply your base pay. Obviously I pay for housing, utilities, gas obviously. I will get you a credit card to make purchases with for the kids and all of that so it’s simple to keep track of. You’re free to any of the food in the kitchen. I’m guessing the salary is the sticking point here.”

“Jensen,” you said as you scratched your head. 

“I can go up fifty more dollars a day.”

“Jensen. This is way, way too much money. Way too much,” you said. “The average rate around here is about twenty five an hour or two hundred a day. Jensen this is double that. Are you factoring in like time and a half for additional nights and weekends?”

“No. That’d be on top of that. I thought that was a fair value based on the fact you are going to be taking care of the most valuable things in my life. It’s gonna get taxed too so it’s not like you see all of it.”

“You’re sweet, Jensen,” you said, writing down a number at the top of the page. “The average in Austin is twenty five an hour. I would be very happy with that.”

“You have to literally be the first person in existence to negotiate their salary down from the offer,” he said.

“Are you rejecting my offer?” you asked. He took the paper and crossed your number out, jotting down his own and spinning it back. “Jensen.”

“Y/N,” he said, crossing his arms. “I came down. Now it’s your turn. Do you accept?”

You knew thirty five was still way overpriced for the job, especially considering everything else he was paying for.

“I will accept on the condition that you get four hours of what we’d call evening or weekend at the normal rate ever week.”

“I can agree to that,” he said with a smile, writing that down. “So medical plan. Single, plus one, family?”

“Single for all that,” you said. 

“I should mention that there is an in-law suite off to the other side of the garage where you’ll be staying. It’s just down the hall but it has its own small living area and kitchenette. There is a separate entrance to it. If you have guests over I just ask you keep them to your area of the house,” he said.

“Absolutely. I don’t tend to bring people over much anyways while I’m on the job,” you said. He let you read over the rest of the benefits, a good amount of sick and vacation time too. Technically you were free evenings and weekends but he could ask you to work longer if he needed you and you were available. Overall everything seemed in order. “Alright. Everything looks good to me.”

“Awesome. Are you available to start Monday?” he asked.

“Sure,” you said. “It gives me plenty of time to move in things tomorrow so I can jump into the kids routine first thing Monday.”

“Perfect,” he said. “I’ll show you around. We can start with your side of the house.” You got up and followed him over to near the front door and down a long hallway, past a set of doors. There was a frosted glass one to your left just before he pushed open a wide white one.

Behind it was a living area and kitchen. Not huge, about the size of a small apartment. There was a TV and sectional, a table tucked against the wall and a kitchenette like he’d mentioned with full size appliances. 

“Like I said, I know it’s small. Please like, seriously watch TV out in the family room at night if you want or hang out wherever or the yard or pool. This is just your own space when you want to be away from us.” You hummed and he showed you a closet and then a bedroom and bathroom. It was simple but decorated nicely and looked relaxing. “If there’s something obvious I’m missing please let me know. A cleaning service does come by every two weeks on Tuesdays at around ten in the morning. They’ll do in here too. Otherwise you can keep after yourself. Cleaning stuff is in the laundry room. Oh yeah. Um, this is probably the last time I’ll like, ever come in here unless you need help moving things in since this will be your space.”

“Thanks. I don’t have too much. I do have one request before we sign all the paperwork.”

“What’s that?”

“I’d like to meet the kids if that’s alright. There’s not much point in hiring me if they hate me.”

“Fair point. We’ll get ‘em over here and then get you all squared away.”

Monday Morning

“Good morning,” you said, a cup of coffee in your hand already as Jensen yawned. 

“Morning,” he mumbled. His hair was a mess and he was in only a pair of boxer briefs before he paused and looked down. “I should probably put on some clothes.”

“This is your house. Wear whatever you normally would. Pretend I’m invisible,” you said as you poured a cup of coffee into a mug for him.

“Sounds like you worked for some real assholes,” he said, graciously taking the cup. “As long as it doesn’t bother you, me walking around in my undies.”

“No, not at all,” you said with a smile. “Would you like me to drop the kids off at school and daycare this morning?”

“Sure,” he said. “Car keys are on the table by the garage.”

“Okay great. I’m used to driving that kind of SUV,” you said. You snuck a look at your schedule you’d printed out again, knowing the twins would get need to get picked up around noon. You started to work on their lunches and snacks for the day while he took out the carton of eggs from the fridge. He cracked one into a pan and turned the heat on, yawning again as he got out some bread and threw it on a plate. “Would you like me to make lunch for you as well?”

“No thank you. I’m getting lunch with my manager today. You don’t have to make me coffee in the morning either, Y/N. Your job is to take care of the kids, not me,” he said.

“A cup of coffee is not difficult, Jensen. My job is to help you so if I can make dad’s life a smidge easier it’ll make theirs better too,” you said with a smile.

“You’re not like, a morning person are you,” he chuckled. “I don’t do peppy in the morning.”

“Oh no. I’m always a little nervous when I start a new job. I’ll get a rhythm down soon,” you said.

“So what do you normally do once the kids are dropped off?” he asked as he got out a spatula.

“On a weekday I’ll review their schedule, see if anything different is going on. An average day like today I will clean their rooms, their bathroom, do some laundry while they’re at school, maybe some shopping. I’ll pick up the twins, bring them home for lunch, a little playtime, a nap. We’ll have some quiet time and maybe a craft or coloring before we get JJ from school. Then I’ll give them all a snack, we can get outside and play to get some energy out. I’ll help JJ with any schoolwork she has while the twins play and then I will start on dinner about the time you’ll be getting home. Since you have no plans currently tonight I’ll leave you guys be at that point until tomorrow unless you ask me for help.”

“So when do you take a break?” he asked.

“Naptime. I’ll have lunch with the twins. Don’t worry about me Jensen. That’s my normal plan but if you would like me to run some errands in the morning I can,” you said.

“No, no. Just…” he trailed off. “I still want to make them breakfast and dinner and play with them too is all.”

“We’ll figure out the right mix of things,” you said. “You just gotta tell me is all, okay? It can vary day to day too,”

“Yeah,” he said, taking his fried egg out of the pan and placing it on one piece of bread. He made a sandwich and took a big bite, looking out the back window. “I never asked. How was your birthday?”

“Hm?” you hummed, dropping some carrots into a reusable bag.

“On Saturday you said it was your 30th. You do anything fun that night?” he asked with a soft smile.

“I got a new job. That was the highlight of my day,” you said, Jensen cocking his head. “I ordered pizza, binged netflix. My normal Saturday routine.”

“I know everybody jokes about 30 but it’s really just jokes. Wait until you’re 42,” he chuckled. “Then you really feel old.”

“Most 42 year olds would kill to look like you,” you said. You shut your eyes and shook your head. “I’m so sorry. That was so inappropriate.”

“It’s alright. I took it as a compliment,” he said, smiling again. “So you did nothing for your birthday, huh?”

“Uh, no,” you said, mixing in some grapes into each of the snack bags.

“I’m gonna get you a birthday cake,” he said.

“Mr. Ackles-”

“I thought I said it’s Jensen. I’m the boss so what I say goes. We’re gonna have a birthday cake for you tonight. So. What’s your favorite flavor?”

“Whatever you want is perfectly fine.”

“Y/N.”

“...I like red velvet,” you said. He smiled and chuckled. 

“That was my wife’s favorite,” he said. “Haven’t had that since her birthday. She would have liked you.”

“You think so?”

“Yeah. You’re quite kind to me. She was always protective of me, even if she was the scaredy cat most of the time.”

“Can I ask how…” you said as he took another bite.

“Accident. Tractor trailer versus her car. He tried to miss her but it was too late. I wanted to hate the guy too but it was an accident and I couldn’t blame him for that.”

“My father died in a car crash when I was six. It does get better with time,” you said.

“That’s why you didn’t know if he had a picture of you in his wallet or not,” he said as you nodded. “You’re too young to have that much tragedy in life.”

“So are you.”

“I’m not young anymore.”

“You’re young and overly generous,” you said with a smile. 

“Misery loves company,” he said as you both heard a few feet above you running around. “Munchkins are up.”

“You want to make breakfast or should I?” you asked.

“Give me five minutes to get them in some clean clothes. Then I can show you how they like their eggs.”

“Sounds like a plan, Jensen.”

Later That Evening

“Y/N?” said Jensen, knocking on the door to your room. You got up from the couch and answered it, Jensen standing there with a smile. “The kids and I were wondering if you’d like your birthday cake for dessert.”

“You actually got me a cake?”

“I did indeed,” he said. You followed him down the hall and back into the living space, Arrow running up to you.

“Y/N! Are you sleeping over?” she asked as she gave you a hug.

“I live just down the hall now, cutie,” you said.

“Daddy, can we have ice cream too?” asked Zeppelin as he climbed up into his chair at the table.

“Sure thing bud. Girls, would you like some too?” he asked. Both the little ones said yes as he looked back at you.

“I really shouldn’t,” you said.

“We eat ice cream in this house,” he said.

“You don’t have to twist my arm over it,” you said. He got out the container and set it down on the table by the cake, lighting the match on the candle on top. “Oh please don’t-”

He started to sing though and the kids joined in, Jensen having a really good voice actually. You blew out the candle when they were through and he dished up some dessert for everyone.

“Y/N, can you read me a bedtime story later?” asked Zeppelin and you glanced at his father, Jensen making a face.

“Well Y/N’s not at work right now so she doesn’t have to unless she wants to,” said Jensen. “We’re already cutting into her-”

“I would love to, Zepp,” you said, his little face lighting up. “Maybe you guys want to join us?”

“JJ’s a little big to get read to at night I’ve been told,” said Jensen.

“Am not,” she said. “I can get a story too, right?”

“Of course,” you said. You took a bite of the cake and hummed. “This is really good.”

“I bought it myself,” said Jensen. 

“Well you have good taste,” you said. “In fact, I’m gonna have another slice.”

“Good,” he said as Zeppelin grabbed the ice cream container. “Alright, alright. You can have a bit more, bud.”

“Night, JJ,” you said, getting a hug from her as you put her back to bed an hour later. JJ smiled from her bed and you flicked off the light, pulling the door shut after you turned on her night light.

“Thanks for giving up your night with them. I didn’t mean to have that happen,” said Jensen as you headed downstairs with him.

“It’s no problem. It’s good bonding for us,” you said. You helped him pick up the plates at the table and wash them off, Jensen grabbing a bottle of whiskey from a tall cabinet as you covered up what was left of the cake. 

“Drink?” he asked.

“A small one,” you said. He poured a single into a whiskey glass and slid it over to you, smirking when you took a sip. “Oh that’s smooth.”

“Very,” he said, drinking from his own glass. “Thank you for tonight. JJ’s been…”

“She’s the oldest. She’s gonna have a harder time with it.”

“You were about her age when your dad died you said?”

“She’ll be okay. She’ll miss her but it won’t be a deep pain. She’ll have nice memories of her mom. She’s doing pretty good, trust me.”

“Can I ask another personal question?”

“I’m off the clock. Shoot,” you said.

“Your mom ever...try again with someone else?”

“Yes. Years later she found a good guy. He actually is who I stayed with after she passed. He’s married now, has some kids of his own but I know if I call him up he’d drop everything for me.”

“Good. I was getting afraid you were a complete Shakespeare tragedy,” he chuckled.

“Nah. I’m not at that level of crazy in my life,” you said. “As long as we’re off the clock, can I ask if you’re asking because you’re thinking of getting back out there?”

“I am. My wife kind of insisted on it. When we first got serious we had this deal that we’d go try again if something happened. I mean, I don’t cry everytime I think about her now. I can smile and be happy and that ache doesn’t try to swallow me up everyday anymore. I think it’s time I could get back out there.”

“I’d say it is. The kids are ready. They’ll understand.”

“You think your mom loved the second guy as much as your dad?”

“For sure. She was a bit of a free spirit but she didn’t think you had to have just one soulmate. She told me that after she’d met Ray. She said she got two so maybe I had two out there. I haven’t found either one of them yet so I’ll take increasing my odds as best I can.”

“Well you’re not gonna meet your soulmate sitting at home on Saturday nights, Y/N.”

“Just a lot of douchey guys,” you said.

“Ah. You need to meet a better kind of guy is all,” he said.

“Yeah see I’m thirty. All the good guys are married by now.”

“Oh all of them are taken. I didn’t realize that,” he said with a chuckle. “What am I then? Another douchebag?”

“You don’t count. You’re…”

“Too old for you?” he chuckled.

“My boss. Plus you’re like famous. You can go get like a victoria secret model or something.”

“Looks ain’t everything.”

“Maybe I ought to try older guys now that you say that,” you said.

“Y/N, you gotta be careful with that. I don’t want to see you get taken advantage of.”

“And this is why I watch netflix on Saturday nights,” you said.

“You serious about the older guy crack?” he asked. 

“I do find them more...attractive sometimes. I guess it depends on how old. Why?”

“I got a friend my age, might be interested?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” you said. “No offense to your friend but...I mean if he’s 42...I want kids and stuff you know? Although a dude it doesn’t really matter how old...I don’t know.”

“It was just a thought,” he said with a smile.

“I’ll think about it,” you said. “He’s not a weirdo, right.”

“No. He’s an actor. Something to think about,” he said.

“I will,” you said. “Thank you for the birthday cake, Jensen. You’re a good person.”

“I bought a cake.”

“Yeah but I haven’t really had one of those in years. You’re a good person.”

“You’re very welcome,” he said as you slid off your seat. “You’re free to hang out if you like.”

“I’m kinda tired. I won’t be getting up that early from now on I don’t think.”

“I completely understand,” he said. “Goodnight, Y/N.”

“Goodnight Jensen.”

________

A/N: Read Part 2 here!

[sirthisisa-wendys]

Rules: Geto Suguru x Fem!Reader

synopsis: You two have one rule when it comes to your hookups: don't fall in love. So what happens when one of you breaks that rule? (based on a anon request that Tumblr ATE UP)

wc: 1.8k

tw: NSFW

masterlist

You're riding him as fast as you can, hands cupping your breasts and tweaking your nipples.

"God, this feels so damn good," Suguru hisses beneath you, eyes holding yours captive. His hand moves away from your left breast, sliding down your stomach and resting on your clit.

"Mmm... Su..." you breathe, your hands pressed on either side of him as your hips slam into his. "That's perfect."

Panting, sweating messes. That's what you're both reduced to every Friday evening when he comes through your door and fucks you until you can't walk. And he leaves before sun-up, just as you ask, placing the spare key beneath the mat at the door after he locks up behind himself.

"You gonna cum soon?" Suguru wonders, but not because he wants to rush you. No, you look down in those onyx eyes and see his desire to withhold himself from cumming for just a little bit longer. He wants to feel your walls rock against his length for as long as he can before giving himself up to you. Suguru loves it when you spasm around his cock - and loves it when you squirt even more - but every single time, he cums right after you. It's not because he's weak; no, that's never been the case.

Your pleasure means so much to him. And when he delivers you the best, toe-curling orgasm of the week, you can't help but let yourself indulge in the sensations and ride it out as well.

But the first caveat to your little arrangement was Rule #1: that neither of you could fall in love. The moment one of you catches feelings, it's over. And you were starting to see that it could very well be Suguru that catches feelings, just like all of the ones who came before him.

The only difference between them and this black-haired devil beneath you was that he'd not only lasted a full six months, but he was the only one that could truly satisfy you. You never felt like Suguru used you as a fuck toy or masturbated into your body just for the feeling of a warm cunt surrounding his twitching cock. Your pleasure meant something to him, even if he left before daylight.

Those are your rules, however.

Soft lips bring you back to the present, and a gentle scrape of the teeth against the flesh of your breast makes you moan loudly.

"Suguru, I--"

"Hush, y/n," he mutters, tongue darting out to flick your nipple. "I'm not done with you yet."

Rule #2: no pet names. And he'd stuck to it, only calling you by your name as he fucked you into the couch, or moaned your name as you came around his length.

"Fuck..." you breathe as he sucks on your breasts over and over again, switching between the two at his leisure. And still, he's bouncing you on his dick, making you shudder.

Rule #3: Condoms. Every. Single. Time. And Suguru never came empty-handed.

You'd gotten rid of men the first time they came over without a condom and blamed it on their brain, even though you kept a stash hidden in the bottom cabinet of the bathroom. Those were reserved for hookups with men who weren't on your schedule or for when you used your strap-on; not for "forgetful" people.

"Oh, shit," you breathe. "I think I'm going to cum..." Suguru nods, pressing you against his chest and speeding up his strokes.

God damn, he's intuitive, you think as he brings you to the edge and tips you over like only he can. When you shudder and whimper in his ear, Suguru grunts softly, hips stuttering as he cums right behind you. It's always been like this, you muse, kissing the man deeply and with feeling. It's never going to change.

_____________________________________________________________

Change comes when you first step into the high-end department store, and you spot a silk gold and black tie hanging on a display.

"Suguru would like that," you think aloud, imaging him tying it on just like he takes them off before wrapping them around your h-- You smack your cheek, waking yourself up from the semi-lewd fantasy. You forget all about the occurrence until you pass by the cologne department, and catch a whiff of a familiar scent.

"Miss," you ask, stopping in front of an associate. "What's that scent?" When the lady rattles off some famous cologne brand, you inhale the fresh scent again, suddenly transported to the time you buried your face in Suguru's neck and smelled his hair for the first time. "Thank you," you quickly mutter, and walk away from the counter as fast as you can. Your hands begin to shake as you place the shoes you just bought on, looking at them in the store mirror right as the words 'maybe I should ask Suguru how they look' rolls through your mind.

Your assigned stylist gives you a frightened glance as you growl and take the shoes off, stuffing them back into the box in her hands as you hiss, "I'll take them."

What the hell is happening to me? you wonder as you drive home impatiently, honking at every person who minorly inconveniences you as you speed down the highway. It's not even Friday, but thrice you've thought about asking Suguru to come over and spend time with you. Three times!

You drop your keys onto the counter and sit on your couch, burying your hands in your face as you think, think, think...

Cancel with Ryoma. Cancel with Aizen. Cancel, cancel, cancel...

You shoot off various text messages in a short amount of time, cutting the other five men out of the schedule. You can find others to fit into Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Saturday, and Sunday if you need to. You just need it to be Friday and fast.

"Hello?" the soft voice murmurs when you dial - picked up on the second ring.

"Hey," you whisper nervously. "Um, Monday canceled and I'm feeling a little stressed. Are you free tonight?" Some papers shift around in the background, and you bite your lip as you wait for an answer. It seems like forever until you hear:

"Yeah, let me finish up at the office. I'll be there around seven, alright?"

"Alright." You hang up just as a rush of adrenaline pumps through you, making you shower and dress with vigor. You even put on the new shoes and a nice set of lingerie to match. All for Suguru. You tie a robe over yourself and sit at your computer - it's six-fifteen - to do some work as a distraction. And it proves fruitful because when the doorbell rings, it's seven o'clock.

You straighten your robe and walk to the door, fixing your hair before opening it up and grinning at Suguru, who is still dressed in his slacks and a button-down shirt. The top button is open slightly and his sleeves are bunched up around his elbows, but he offers you his sweet smile as well, stepping into the house with ease.

"You look really nice. Are those new shoes?" he asks, tossing his jacket over the back of the couch and turning back to you.

"Why yes, they are," you sing, walking toward him slowly, leisurely. "Do you like them?"

"Do you care?" Suguru wonders, cupping your chin and kissing your lips gently. "I'm going to take them off of you in a second anyways."

"You have all night to think about that," you tease, tugging him toward your bedroom. "But I'd prefer you let me wear them while you fuck me." Suguru lets out a surprised chuckle, following you into the room and shutting the door behind him.

But even after he's fucked you senseless, you can't sleep. Your earlier thoughts haunt you and a twinge of guilt eats at your brain as you lay against a sleeping Su, head resting on his chest as he holds you close. Even when you see the clock hours change from ten to eleven, to twelve to three am, you can't help but dread the moment when he would awake and leave you alone in the bedroom.

And when six o'clock comes, his watch buzzes on the nightstand, shaking him from his hazy sleep.

Your fingers curl into his side, and Suguru groans, rubbing his eyes.

"You awake?" he whispers into the darkness, but you don't reply, hoping he would just lay there for a few minutes more. "Y/n? Your heart is beating a mile a minute."

"So?"

"So..." He shifts up, petting your hair gently. "I think we need to talk." Your heart plummets into your stomach, and you try not to react sharply, but Suguru clears his throat as he turns on the bedside lamp. You look up into his black eyes, and he blinks in the light, biting his bottom lip at the sight of you fully awake. "Why did you call me over here and not anyone else?" You fumble for an answer, but thinking of a lie just wouldn't do. Not for Suguru. "Aren't you breaking your rule?"

"No," you counter, sitting up straight. "I'm not falling in love with you. Your dick, maybe. But not you." The look in his eyes tells you that he knows you're lying. You hang your head, fighting back an apology.

"We should call this off if that's the case."

"No," you whisper, shaking your head. "I don't want that."

"I don't want that either," Suguru murmurs, tilting your chin up with his fingers. "But what happens if you go back to..." You sigh, looking away. "I'm a jealous lover, y/n. I'm not the kind to play around with."

"And I won't," you reply, head snapping back to meet his eyes. "I..." you exhale shakily. "I couldn't stop thinking about you when I was at Bergdorf's." The admission doesn't shock Suguru, but he does clasp his hands together. "Everything reminded me of you, and I--" You break off, hands shaking. "I'm scared."

"Have you discussed this with anyone else?" The question implies the obvious, and you look to your phone, opening it up and letting him see the contacts "Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Saturday, Sunday" all with the same message:

Sorry, I have to cancel our weekly rendevous. Hope you understand.

"Am I saved as Friday?" Suguru chuckles, but you scroll down a little more, and his name pops up: Suguru Geto.

He huffs a laugh, shaking his head.

"I'm the special one, huh?" You turn his head toward you, leaning in to kiss him on the lips once.

"Please, let me break my rules for you." Suguru groans, leaning into your touch and kissing your palm in response.

"Let me start right now then, babe. And don't worry, we'll take it one rule at a time." You giggle as he tosses your phone aside and leans into you, kissing you just like he did before and switching off the light as daybreak comes.

_____________________________________________________________

TAGLIST: @missbonekitty @wack0-genius @thankuary @r-i-m-f-009 @sunfloweroranges @leanne-tamashi @rein-icu @brownskinnedgirll @savantsoulfinder @chilledlucifer @kontentious @flare-on @meena-in-a-nutshell @falling-through-pages @naoyasdarling @vabybizzle

[christ0pher-evans]

Healed Heart

Final Part of the Shattered Heart Mini-Series

Pairings: Chris Evans x Reader Warnings: 18+ Minor Smut / Angst / Cheating / Arguing / Mentions of Divorce / Swearing Word Count: 2.9k A/N: So here is the final part of my mini-series. I honestly cannot thank you so much for the support on this, it means a lot to me and I love you guys for it!!! Please let me know what you think. I hope you’re happy with the ending because it took me a really long time to decide how I could finish off this story with justice. Thank you again, truly😘 Please reblog and like🖤

Part One: Shattered Heart Part Two: Troubled Heart Part Three: Bewildered Heart

 ♡

Three tortuous days had passed since you had last seen or spoke to Chris, three days since you kicked him out your home. You’d had nightmares about being in a loveless and hateful marriage, steamy dreams about your recent rendezvous and nights where you just felt so alone that you had cried yourself to sleep. It was safe to say that the past three days had been exhausting. 

Although fucking Chris in the kitchen during a harrowing argument probably wasn’t the smartest thing you’ve done, it led to some realisations about how you wanted to proceed with your marriage. You definitely didn’t regret anything you said, or did with Chris that day and that was what you found important amongst the disaster. Not regretting your decisions meant that you knew you wanted to move forward in your marriage, and not look backwards; something you would consider a big first step in repairing your marriage. You knew you couldn’t forget what happened and would have to address it before moving forward but you knew you had the desire to push through the hard times. 

You’d called Chris that morning and told him that you wanted him to come home, not that he could or should but that you wanted him at home with you. Emotionally, it felt like the right decision, because at the end of the day he was your husband and you missed him. Practically, it is his home as well and it was the only place you could both be to sort out your marriage with privacy. You didn’t want to be surrounded by the media or by prying eyes. Hell, you didn’t even want the opinion of family or friends, this was between you and Chris only. 

As you tidied up the house a bit and thought about the moment Chris would walk through the door, it was clear to you that no matter how angry or hurt you were, Chris was your endgame. You had played all the variables over and over in your head loads of times, societal rights and wrongs about cheating when you realised, fuck society. You would never leave your husband over this, and that was okay. This was your story and who cared what anyone else thought, because you didn’t want to give up. You owe it to yourself, to your marriage, to try and fix everything before throwing it away. 

For the first few days, Chris slept in the spare room and you danced around each other, trying to find your new normal whilst you navigated the mess that was your marriage. 

Once the first week passed, Chris continued to sleep in the spare room and you finally plucked up the courage to address the problem that had been plaguing your marriage for weeks, months if you consider back to when the problem initially started. 

The day you decided to bring it up, you had finished work early and Chris was already at home when you arrived back around 3pm. 

Walking through the house, you finally found Chris in the home office. 

“I thought you were filming today?” Chris looked up at the sound of your voice. 

“Oh hi sweetheart. I didn’t hear you come in? Um, yeah I was but, uh.. she turned up to re-film some scenes so I came home.” 

You winced at the thought of her and Chris together but was quickly calmed by the effort Chris had made to avoid her. 

Clearing your throat, you found the courage to reply. 

“Oh, er, did you not have to keep filming?” Leaning against the door frame, you settled in for a longer conversation. 

“It wasn’t anything that I can’t just do another day when she isn’t there. I’ve got some scripts to read over anyway so it’s fine.” 

You sighed. This seemed like an appropriate time to bring up the unspoken topic so you could start moving forward but your anxiety felt crippling in that very moment, you didn’t know if you could face it. 

“Sweetheart..” Chris whispered, “Y/N, sit down, please..” 

You moved to sit down on the small sofa by the window, tucking your feet up and under yourself. Chris moved to join you, sitting fairly close but not touching you as you hadn’t crossed that boundary since he came home. 

“Look baby, I’ve been home a week now and we’ve just walked around this house like we are two strangers. I need you to talk to me, tell me what you’re thinking because you’re the one that told me you wanted me to come home?”

You looked up from your lap and straight into Chris’s eyes, “You do feel like a stranger to me.”

You heard his voice hitch in his throat, clearly caught off guard by your blunt answer. 

“I’m still me, sweetheart. I’m the same person you met seven years ago and I’m the same person you married four years ago. Please don’t think I’ve changed.” 

A lone tear falls straight from your eye, as you whimper, “I miss him.” 

It takes Chris no longer than a second to pull you into his lap, all boundaries obliterated, as he hugs you like his life depends on it. As you cry all you can hear is Chris repeatedly whispering, ‘I’m here. I’m still me. I love you.’ 

You shudder at the softened and sweet contact, something you hadn’t felt for weeks but you embraced it, leaning further into Chris’s chest for comfort. 

Once you had basked in the feeling for a bit longer, shutting the world and your problems out, you knew you had to move away. It would have been unfair to give Chris mixed signals as your marriage was still clearly on the rocks. 

Sitting back up on the sofa, you composed yourself. 

“I know you are still you Chris, but you’ve changed to me now. This you..”, you sigh before continuing, “..you’re tainted and untrustworthy, you’re the man that cheated on me, you’re not my husband. I need to get to know you again, and I need to learn to love our marriage again, and learn to trust you again. It’s going to take time.” 

“B-but you want to try?”

“Of course I want to try. Endgame right? That hasn’t changed for me but other things have to change, we cannot continue like this otherwise if something else were to happen, I don’t think we would survive it.” 

“I am infinitely yours sweetheart. Forever.” You watch Chris smile sweetly. 

Feeling slightly more confident and feeling like Chris has really been listening to you, you knew it was time to talk about her. 

“Okay, well whilst we are here, I think we should talk about her. It’s the biggest hurdle for me, and I can’t move past it. I just can’t deal with you seeing her right now, not whilst I’m learning to trust you again. I’ll never trust her so I need to 100% be able to trust you again.” 

Grabbing hold of your hand, Chris nods in understanding.

“That is completely fine sweetheart. For now, how about I just work my schedule around when she isn’t there and wait until you are comfortable before I finish filming my scenes with her? I don’t care if it postpones the film, or they replace me, you are more important to me than any film and I’ll do whatever it takes to prove it to you!” 

You nod feebly, shocked and relieved with the instant commitment Chris was happy to make to save your marriage and earn your trust back. 

An awkward silence falls over the room at the monumental conversation you just had. Needing a moment to yourself, you decide to make a quick exit. 

‘Um, I think I’ll go and grab a shower before dinner.” Quickly leaving, you rush to your ensuite. 

The shower provided a solace to digest what just happened, a few tears falling as you feel overwhelmed. But you left the bathroom with a renewed sense of hope. 

It was another week of tough conversations and private marriage counselling before you felt you had reached another milestone in fixing your marriage. 

You were in the ensuite of your bedroom when Chris came in to say goodnight. He was merely wearing a pair of pyjamas bottoms that amusingly you were wearing the matching top of. 

He chuckled as he leant against the wall, “I was looking for that top.” 

You giggled lightly and blushed, using all your self control to not drool over seeing Chris topless. Unfortunately, you had never been good at hiding any of your emotions from Chris and you saw him smirk slightly at your flustered state. 

“Okay, well, I just came to say goodnight, so uh- night I guess..” 

You mumbled a goodnight back as Chris turned to walk out the room. A rush of affection from the interaction washed over you causing you to shout back towards Chris to catch his attention. 

“Um, stay..” 

You saw the startled look on his face as the words left your lips. 

“Stay with me tonight..”, you repeated as if you were confirming your own words. 

“Yeah, course I’ll stay, if that’s what you want?”, he shuffled back towards you. 

“It is what I want.” 

You smiled at him sweetly before you brushed past him and moved towards the bed, leaving him a bit stunned in the bathroom. 

Weeks passed with no problems. You and Chris had gone back to sleeping in the same bed and you often woke up snuggled together. At first, you’d wake and quickly move away from him however, slowly, you became comfortable with it and you were finally starting to feel at peace in his arms. 

You had woken up early this specific Monday morning as it was Chris’s first day back filming with her. You felt sick to the stomach at the thought of him seeing her again and had slept terribly. You knew this day would come and thought you would be, at least slightly prepared, but as the day dawned, you were scared. Nerves caged around your heart as your mind could only replay the moment Chris told you that he had kissed another woman.

Chris had to go back to work, you understood that. He had already put it off for a while and sacrificed enough of his job to try and reconcile your marriage. You almost felt obliged to let him go back to work, who were you to hold your husband back from his job? 

You were sitting in the kitchen, slowly nursing a very strong coffee when Chris came down, ready for his day. You glanced up at him briefly, barely acknowledging his words to you. 

“Y/N? Sweetheart, are you okay? You’re up really early?” 

Glancing at the clock reading 7:30am, you shrugged and mumbled, “Woke up at 5:30am.”

You stared in the abyss, thoughts whirring through your mind. Thinking about being frightened to death about the thought that your marriage wasn’t even halfway back to where it should be. Knowing that Chris would see her today, spend all his time with her whilst you were waiting back at home for him. It felt like some sick and twisted de ja vu. 

It had been almost two months since you’d last been with Chris in any form of intimacy, almost four months since you were truly a happily married couple and now he was going to see her again, were you really debating that history would repeat itself? 

“Baby, will you talk to me? I can see something is on your mind”, Chris gently rests his hand over yours, bringing you out your nightmarish daydream. 

Looking up at Chris, taking in all his handsome features, you thought, how could anyone ever resist him. The thought panicked you even more.  

Learning from previous mistakes, you knew it was best to communicate to him how you were feeling. 

“I’m scared you’re going to see her again today and history could just repeat itself. Nothing is fixed yet Chris, and it feels like we are already going backwards.”

Just when you thought that being honest and communicating with Chris was the best option, it backfired in your face. Chris scoffed, a look of disgust on his face. 

“Huh, you’re not kidding?” Watching him run his hand through his hair, he turns away and slams his coffee mug down on the side. You jump at the aggressive action. 

“You really think I’d do that again? You really think that little of me? Have you not seen all the work I’ve put into this fucking marriage the past couple of months?”, he shrugs and turns back to you, “What else do you want from me Y/N?” 

You wince at his spiteful words. 

“I know you’ve put a lot into this marriage Chris, so have I! We’ve been doing really well, but can you really blame me for having doubts on your first day back with her? I thought you’d understand!” 

“No, I don’t blame you, but I thought you’d trust me more that this by now.” 

You chew on your lip nervously as you both stare at one another, terrified of the silence. 

“I’ve got to go to work Y/N, see you later.” You hear Chris huff before he walks straight out the house, leaving you sitting dumbfounded and anxious at your kitchen table. 

Trying to do any work from home was useless as you just felt panicked and couldn’t stop thinking about how Chris’s day was going. You hadn’t heard from him since this morning at it was now 6pm. 

After developing a painful stress headache, you decide to lay down in bed. Believing you can block the world out and briefly pretend that nothing is wrong in your marriage, you shut your eyes momentarily. 

FLASHBACK. 

Waking up so softly, you barely blink your eyes open as you feel tender kisses dancing their way up your back, following the line of your spine. You flutter your eyes open carefully, aware of the vibrant sunlight gracing your face as you try to focus your eyes, gradually making out the floor length curtains gently blowing through the breeze from your open balcony doors. You can hear the soft crashes of the waves and can see the soft, baby blue sky from your place on the bed as you stretch out all your limbs from an energetic night. You let yourself surrender to the feeling of Chris’s lips grazing against your bare body.

As he gradually makes his way up to your neck and cheek, you hum in utter happiness and contentment as he places one final kiss on your cheek as he leans over your body. You can feel every line and shape of his naked form as it presses up against you. You think about how you’ve never felt so happy and loved in this moment, knowing that this is exactly how you’ll get to feel for the rest of your life. 

“Good morning Mrs. Evans”, Chris roughly whispers, his voice hoarse from minimal sleep. He nibbles on your ear teasingly before grinding his core over your ass. You whimper at the feeling his movements evoke from you. 

“Mhm, I like how that sounds”, you mumble before smiling happily. The use of that name giving you butterflies. The one that now belongs to you, the name that now proves you belong to each other forever.

END OF FLASHBACK.

You wake with a start as you hear the front door slam slightly. You sit up too quickly, as you feel light-headed and your vision blurs slightly. You breath deeply, gaining your bearings before looking at the bedside clock. 7:30pm; you had slept right through dinner. 

Not that it mattered because you would have been eating alone anyway, you thought. 

Your body adjusts to being awake, your stomach fluttering slightly at the memories and feelings that the dream provoked. Momentarily caught in a fever dream. 

Back in reality, you brain registers that there was a slam at the door. Quickly, you get up and rush downstairs to see what is happening. 

As you halt at the bottom of the stairs and look out into the open plan room, you see Chris standing by the breakfast bar. The very same breakfast bar that holds so many recent heartbreaking conversations. But this time, it doesn’t bring you sadness. 

There Chris stands, holding takeout food in one hand and in the other, your favourite donuts. Behind him, on the wall, hangs the framed photo from your wedding day. Your matching smiles beaming on both your faces, almost as if they are lighting up the room.

You look back at him, standing here in your house. Bringing home dinner to you. Coming home to you. 

Your breath catches in your throat, “It’s you Chris, it’s always going to be you.”

You watch him place down the food on the side, before he begins striding towards you. Stuck in your spot, you can’t do anything but smile at your husband as he reaches you. 

“Forever yours”, you whisper before Chris’s lips crash onto yours for the first time in months. Your lips work together as your hands grip as his waist and his grasp your neck and face so you can’t move away. So you can only feel Chris, so you can truly remember the raw intimacy and passion between you. 

As your lips melt together, it feels as monumental as the moment he kissed you as you became his wife. It feels as if your story is beginning again; with a fresh start and a new-found hope for your marriage. 

 ♡

Forever Tags: @itsscottiesstark @patzammit @partypoison00 @cynic-spirit @n3ssm0nique @sohoseb @madbaddic7ed @moonlacebeam @ilovetheeagles  @beautifulrose0809 @lovelyladymayyy @tenaciousperfectionunknown @mysticapples17 @whxre4cevans @firoozehmoon @spookyparadisesheep @mytbel0st @thatonelatina @snowy992 [Please drop me a message if you’d like to become part of the taglist for this series or any of my work]

[rogue-durin-16]

UNSURPRISING

Summary: There were a few moments during Fred's friendship with Y/n's in which they were a bit too close to kissing. Then, there was that one time they did.

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Reader

Genre: fluff

Tags:

Fred Weasley: @whiskeyn-rain @lumos-solemn @meph1stophelian

Permanent taglist: @elia-the-bibliophile @randomparanoid @karlthecat15722 @thebutchersdaughtersblog @amourtentiaa @just-here-to-escape-from-reality

Warnings: language maybe, murder

A/N: this one was not scheduled for tonight but I wanted to cheer @meph1stophelian up because she deserves it, so enjoy your dose of Fred fluff <3

Rogue-durin-16 masterlist

"Okay, Y/n," Ginny grabbed a pastry from the platter which we had stolen from the kitchen and that now laid on a small coffee table in the middle of the Room of Requirement. "truth or dare?"

"Dare."

"I dare you to... Wait." She thought about it for a second before leaning on Luna to ask her something. "I dare you to kiss Fred."

"Uh-uh." Fred, who had just moved to the higher table where the drinks had been laid, was quick to respond, "Not happening." shortly after followed by me.

"I'm not doing that."

"You can't skip a dare!" Ron exclaimed outraged.

"I can if I'm over eight years old." I replied, leaning back on the couch with my arms crossed.

"What she said." Fred agreed, raising his glass at me before drinking.

"Since when do you two back out of a dare?" Ginny questioned with a frown.

"Since this girl here" he motioned at me "started dating Pucey."

"What?" Harry asked in shock. "Pucey? Pucey as in Adrian Pucey?"

"Yeah?" I replied.

"You and Pucey?" Hermione raised her brows and gave Ginny a confused look. "I don't quite see it."

"Oi, what's there to see? I'm the only one who has to see it, don't you think?" I responded, slightly annoyed. "And why is no one talking about this bloke's love life?" I pointed at Fred who now stood behind me. "He's dating that Hufflepuff girl too!"

He tsked his tongue. "Not anymore."

"That's... unsurprising." George commented.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Fred questioned suspicious, kicking my leg for me to move aside so he could sit.

His twin snorted. "You know what's supposed to mean." He took a sip from his drink before nodding at Ginny. "C'mon Gin, change the dare— for Pucey's sake." George scanned us both with analyzing eyes before adding, "we don't want Y/n to end up ditching his boyfriend for this twit, now do we?"

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

"YEEEEH" I was already down on the arena, clapping, when Fred landed with a wide cocky grin on his face, his breathing ragged due to the match's intense last few minutes.

I had rushed down the moment the snitch was caught to be the first one to congratulate him, so I was quite breathless too.

"Did you see me up there? Saving the bloody match!" He exclaimed, tossing his broom and bat on the ground in order to catch me when I threw myself to him.

"You were brilliant oh my gosh!" I let out a surprised laugh. The match seemed pretty much lost until Fred's performance came into play. "Oi, don't let it go to your head!" I was quick to add, pulling away from his embrace.

"Y/n Y/l/n just said I'm brilliant," He stated, the grin not leaving his face. "it's definitely going to my head."

I groaned, letting my forehead fall against his chest. His heart was beating fast, but I blamed it on the adrenaline of the match.

But what was I supposed to blame on the way my own heartbeat picked up when his hand found the small of my back and casually pulled me a tad closer?

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

"Oi," I slid open the door's compartment and scanned it briefly before saying, "everything's full, do you mind—"

"Not at all." Fred rapidly answered, sitting up slightly but quickly returning to his laid back position after I had taken a seat by his side.

I had a brief exchange of words with George and Lee before silence fell upon us; it was quite unsual, yet understandable due to the exhaustion we had been put under during the last semester.

It was because of it that Lee fell asleep, shortly after followed by George. I took the chance to grab my book to avoid giving in to the sleep, though my reading was soon disturbed by Fred's foot tapping over the upholstery of the seat.

"What?" I questioned quietly, my brow quirked at him while my eyes peeked over the book.

"What are you reading?"

"Advanced Potion-Making— what do you want?"

"Rude." I rolled my eyes, making a smirk dance on his lips. He seemed to weigh what he was about to say. "I got you something for Christmas."

"Wait— you what?" He got up, ignoring my shock, and, stretching his hands to reach his bag, he pulled out a small package. "I— you—"

"Speechless, I see." He pointed out amused, handing me the package before plopping back down, his gaze trained on me. "C'mon, open it." His teeth trapped his lower lip in anticipation, and I felt how my blood started to pump violently through my veins before I unwrapped the present. "A little birdy told me you liked... What's it called? Chokers?" I could only nod, speechless at the delicate choker in my lap. "I mean, my hand would have been just as good but you can wear this one in public too."

My face flared up at his words and astonishment was replaced by the usual need to fuck that little bastard up. "I hate you."

"I'm kidding, love." He chuckled, tugging on his sleeves and nodding at the jewelry. "You like it?"

The softness in his gaze made my anger go away as I took another look at the choker. "I love it, but you didn't have to." I scrunched my nose. "it looks very—"

"If you say expensive I'll shove it up your arse so watch your tongue." He warned me, half jokingly and half serious.

"What a way of ruining a sweet gesture." I pointed out, feigning a pout.

"Don't worry, I'll make it sweet again, you'll see—" he pushed himself away from the wall and scooted closer to me, tending his palm. "Give it to me." I obeyed and shifted my position so I would have my back to him. His fingers moved my hair away before his hands carefully placed the strap of velvet around my throat and clasped it. "There." He whispered, putting my hair back in place.

I turned around again without any clue of what to tell him. "I-I'd have gotten you something—"

"Y/n, it's a gift, not a trade." He gave me a warm smile, one that anyone rarely got to see, and my face heated up once more. His eyes seemed to flicker to my lips just for an instant, but he soon averted them from me to check on our peers. "Don't tell them, I won't hear the end of it."

I too peeked at them before leaning in and placing a soft kiss on Fred's cheek. "Merry Christmas, Fred."

The little smile grew into a wide side grin while he casted his face down, fixing it on his hands. "Merry Christmas, Y/n."

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

I was out after curfew, yes, but I wasn't doing anything bad, just visiting my friends in their common room; I only had to be careful and no one would notice me.

Or so I thought.

To my luck, while I was tiptoeing through one of the halls, none other than Fred Weasley bumped into me.

"Shit!" We both took a moment to observe one another. "Alright, sorry in advance." He apologised, taking a peek at the path he had taken before grabbing my hand and pulling me with him.

I didn't hesitate on running with me; I knew he had brought trouble directly to me, and if I didn't follow, I would get detention and, with Umbridge in control, I had to avoid that at all costs.

"Wait wait— Here!" He tapped what I assumed was a camouflaged door and pulled me inside before it could open completely.

We both reached for the door at the same time, shutting it as fast and quiet as possible and stepping back right in time to hear what I assumed was a part of Umbridge's Inquisitorial Squad.

Fred was so close that I could feel his heavy breath tickling my neck while we stumbled back into the pitch black darkness of the narrow passage.

"Well, that was close." I commented, trying to keep my pants at bay; it was the only sound heard —our pants.

His hands left my biceps to presumably fall limply on his sides, but he didn't step back to put some space between us. I couldn't see anything, but I still turned around and instantly knew his eyes were trying to find mines, just like my fingertips attempted to intertwin with his.

It was a bad idea, but no one had to know; the lack of light in the secret passage would prevent anyone to witness it, even us.

No one would see it, I thought, trailing my fingers up his arm until I reached his cheek.

His own hand made its way to my waist, giving it a squeeze and pulling me to him.

I pushed him away as soon as we heard Filch's cat miaowing at the hidden door, followed by the erratic running of the caretaker.

Fred grunted in frustration. "C'mon!" He rushed me, taking my hand once more and running down the ginnel.

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

We were running breathless, hands held, casting spells left and right.

'Don't stop moving' Arthur had said when the part of the castle we were defending fell into the Dementors' claws.

One of the Carrow apparated a few feet ahead of us, sending a Cruciatus in our direction even before we came to a halt in our running.

Fred raised his wand, quick as lightning, shielding us from the curse, and I didn't miss a beat before hexing the death eater, hitting her right in the chest.

Fred spun around to guard my back from another death eater that stood behind us while I, seeing that the Carrow sister attempted to get up, casted another stunning spell at her, only that this time it hit her shield.

Both Fred and I duelled the two Voldemort's acolytes until we managed to take them out almost simultaneously, yet in very different ways.

"STUPEFY!" Fred yelled out loud to enhance the spell's effect.

I did the same, knowing I needed that extra push to take Carrow out only that my spell was way more harmful. "AVADA KEDAVRA!"

Fred turned around, still gripping my hand, to see the death eater's corpse on the floor. "Fuck!" He exclaimed.

"Was that a good 'fuck' or a bad 'fuck'?" I inquired, adrenaline pumping through my veins when I turned to meet the redhead's eyes, sparkling with excitement.

"Definitely a good 'fuck'." We both let out a laugh as if I hadn't just murdered someone. "Kiss me." He demanded; fortunately, I was thinking that same thing, so my lips crashed against his in a rough kiss right after he had finished the sentence.

We both tried to pour into the kiss as much sentiment as possible to let the other know how much we had craved to do that for the last three years. Our hands and arms were wrapped around each other, pulling our bodies as close as possible in the now empty corridor as if the world was about to end; it most likely was.

"Being realistic," I began speaking against his lips, once he had pulled away only enough for us to breathe. "we might be dead by tomorrow," if the situation was a bit different, we would probably be crying, but our little victory had made euphoria flood our hearts. "so know that—"

"I love you too." He finished with a nod.

I nodded back, pecking his lips before untangling by limbs from his and pulling him with me in order to resume our jog away.

[dreamwritesimagines]

Twisted 22 - Red Right Hand [Spencer Reid x Reader]

A.N.: Thank you so much for your wonderful support my loves! Here’s the next chapter, I hope you will like it as well, and please let me know what you think of it! ❤❤ Ily, kisses! ❤❤❤

Series Masterlist

Warnings: Murder, serial killers, violence, manipulation, mentions of sex, drinking, smoking, blood, nightmares.

Word Count: 4000

Summary: Anyone can be a suspect.

When you woke up, the first thing you realized before even opening your eyes was that you weren’t in your bed.

Your bed was softer than this, the sheets were silk and the pillows were fluffier-

Spencer.

You were sleeping in Spencer’s bed, and in all honesty, both he and you were terrible at this break up thing.

You rubbed your eyes and sat up in bed, trying pull yourself together and get rid of the haze of the sleep. Judging by the state of the bed, it was very obvious that Spencer hadn’t slept there and the clattering of plates coming from the kitchen let you know that he was already awake. You yawned, stretching out and kicked off the covers before you quickly made the bed and stepped back to see if it looked good.

Well, it looked acceptable at least.

You shrugged to yourself and stepped out of the room to approach where the noises were coming from, then leaned sideways on the door frame, a smile warming your face when Spencer turned his head to look at you.

“Morning.”

“Hi there,” you said, your voice still raspy because of sleep, “What are you making?”

“Um- I realized I just had coffee and not much of anything else,” Spencer said, “Unless you like leftover Chinese.”

“My favorite breakfast.”

“So grilled cheese sandwich?”

“Oh man, you don’t want to share your leftover Chinese?” you curled your lips, “I guess grilled cheese sandwich could be breakfast too.”

He chuckled and put the sandwiches on the plates, so you grabbed them and went to the living room to sit on the couch, Spencer following you with two cups of coffee.

“Jesus Spencer, you didn’t have to sleep here,” you motioned at the blanket, “You’re taller than the couch.”

“It’s fine, I don’t mind.”

You shifted your weight and picked at the toast before nibbling on the piece,

“How did you sleep?” he asked and you chewed on your bite.

“Like a rock,” you said, “I got like four hours, do you know what that is? A miracle.”

He thought for a moment before he walked to the table to pull open a drawer as you grabbed your cigarette package,

“Do you mind if I smoke here?”

“I do actually.”

You looked down at the package in your hand, then put it back into your purse as he walked back to the couch, clearing his throat.

“So I was thinking,” he said, “The um-the next time it gets too much for you, even though I’m on a case away from the city, if you ever need to get away from your place…” he reached out and put what looked to be a spare key to his apartment on the coffee table and you stared at it for a couple of seconds, your heart skipping a beat.

“Professor,” you managed to say when you pulled yourself together and tried to ignore the spark of hope, “I say this with the best intentions, but we really do suck at this whole break up thing.”

“We’re not so bad-“

“We’re literally the worst ex couple I’ve ever seen. You take your key back from your exes, not give them one.”

“But it’s not like that,” he said quickly, “It’s so that you can drop by when I’m not here if you want to.”

You were melting, and he wasn’t even aware of it.

“Spencer…” you tried to stop the smile warming your face and pursed your lips, “I can’t.”

He pulled his brows together, his soft gaze on you almost confused, “Why not?”

You heaved a sigh and reached out to wrap your fingers over the back of his hand, the spark of electricity shooting through your whole system. Your body didn’t care about the break up as much as your mind did, that was clear. Even now, even after everything, even if you knew it was wrong, the only thing you absolutely craved for was to be closer to him, however you could be.

“Trust me,” you said, “The only thing it’ll do is to give me hope, and I can’t have that. Besides, who knows? Yet another friend of Luke’s might disagree with this decision if you ever end up not talking about your ex during the first date.”

He let out a small chuckle, “That’s not happening, you know it as much as I do.”

You scrunched up your nose, “My point about being terrible exes,” you started, but before you could say anything else, your phone started vibrating. You looked around and grabbed it, then took it to your ear.

“Hello?”

“Finally!” Mina’s voice reached you, “Why can’t anyone reach you? Mom called you like a hundred times.”

“I was busy.”

“Doing what? Your assistant said you didn’t show up yet.”

“What happened?” you asked back and she heaved a sigh.

“Mom wanted me to ask if you want them to send you a car for tonight.”

“Why would I-“ you started and then it dawned on you and you threw your head back, “Charity auction.”

“The one that we told you like a month ago, and your assistant already put it in your schedule. You know, the whole point of having that is checking it sometimes right?”

“I wanted to erase it from my mind, probably that’s why,” you grumbled.

“Well you’re coming. I’ll actually kill you if you bail on me, we’re all going to be there.”

You rolled your eyes, “Okay, whenever we go somewhere like this, mom socializes, you and Kenz hook up in the bathroom, I’m the only one who doesn’t have fun in these things! I’m allowed to-“

“I’m literally running to a meeting on stilettos so I don’t have time to feel sorry for you but I’ll put it in my schedule if you want,” she said, “Unlike you, I check mine. No car then?”

“I’ll drive there myself.”

“Suit yourself. Cry beforehand if you’re going to be in this mood for the whole night, will you? You don’t look good with smudged makeup.”

“Fuck you Mina.”

“Love you too brat!” she sang and hung up, and you huffed out a breath.

“Charity auction?” Spencer asked, “Rossi was talking about that too.”

Your head shot up, “Wait, you will be there?” you asked, the grumpiness leaving you instantly and he shrugged his shoulders.

“A part of the team will. We don’t know yet.”

“I hope they pick you to be there.”

He tilted his head, “Why?”

You bit inside your cheek, still trying to fight the urge to be closer to him before you took a deep breath.

“I don’t know,” you admitted, “Maybe I wouldn’t hate tonight that much if you were there.”

                                                 ***

Having breakfast with Spencer was a perfect way to start the day, that was for sure, but you couldn’t say the same for the rest of the day. Much like Mina, you spent the whole day running from meeting to meeting, and by the time you got home to get ready for the night, you were already way too tired.

But as you found out, a good night’s sleep made wonders, so even if you were tired, you weren’t as drowsy as before.

Special thanks to Spencer, for that one.

You did your make up and your hair before getting into the gown and you looked in the mirror, smoothing over the fabric. You turned around to see whether the long skirt looked good at all the angles but then your phone started vibrating on the bed and you grabbed it to answer it.

“Hi Linc,” you put him on speaker as you opened the drawer to pick a necklace, “What’s up?”

“Just wanted to check whether you’re going to pretend you’re sick to get out of it,” he said and you chuckled.

“Good idea, I’ll use it the next time,” you clasped the necklace behind your neck and fixed your hair, “And no. Unfortunately I’ll be there.”

“Come on Y/N, we’ll have fun.”

“I don’t think so.”

“We’ll have alcohol, you like alcohol.”

“That’s the only way I can stand these things,” you murmured, “How about you? Are you sure you haven’t changed your mind about coming?”

“Are you kidding? Watching you sulk is like a hobby of mine at this point, I made my peace with it.”

“I don’t sulk!”

“Yeah you do,” he chuckled, “I’ll see you there okay?”

“Yeah yeah, see you,” you murmured and hung up, then grabbed your coat and left your apartment. You got into your car, turned the music on, and started driving.

It took you almost an hour to get there because of the traffic. You handed your keys to the valet, thanked him and started climbing the marble stairs but as soon as you looked down at your phone you felt someone crashing into you.

“Ugh!” the woman let out a furious breath but still kept talking on the phone, “I said I don’t want them blue, I want them green! What are you, an idiot? I don’t have time for this…”

“Apology not accepted asshole,” you murmured to yourself and kept climbing the stairs.

“Good evening ma’am.”

“Good evening,” you smiled at the man by the door and stepped inside to walk through the huge foyer until you reached the hall. You looked around as soon as you reached the table surrounded by empty chairs and stopped one of the waitresses.

“Excuse me,” you smiled at her, “Hi, is this the table number one?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Thank you,” you said and heaved a sigh as she walked away, “How am I the first one here God damn it?”

You checked the time on your phone before making your way out of the hall and went outside again so that you could smoke a cigarette or two until everyone got there. There was no way you would sit there alone, you already didn’t like this evening and that would make it even worse. You leaned back to one of the pillars, lighting a cigarette and exhaling the smoke up into the dark sky, watching the people entering and leaving the building.

You heaved a sigh after minutes passed and you lit your third cigarette, sending Mina yet another text in all caps but then you heard someone clear their throat so you looked up from your phone and your heart started pacing in your chest, a wide smile pulling at your lips before you could stop it.

“Professor,” you managed to say and Spencer ran a hand through his hair as if he wanted to make sure it looked good, “Well this is a nice surprise. Came to save the damsel in distress?”

He pulled his brows together, “I doubt you fall under that category.”

You scrunched up your nose, “You have a point. I’m probably the big bad wolf in a dress.”

“I mean it’s a pretty dress,” he murmured before stealing a look at you, “You look great. As usual.”

You could feel the happiness filling your system and you giggled.

“Thanks,” you said, “So do you. But hey, that’s not a surprise. The only reason why the FBI is keeping you around is your looks, not your smarts, we all know that.”

That seemed to make him chuckle and you gasped, then reached out to hold his scarf over your dress.

“Spencer look, we match!”

“Look at that, we do-“ he smiled but before he could say anything, you saw Lincoln climbing the stairs. You waved at him and he took a look at you two with a slight frown on his face, then made his way to you.

“Jesus, took you long enough.”

“I know, I had this last minute phone call about work….” he shook his head, “Dr. Reid. You seem to be everywhere nowadays.”

“Seems that way,” Spencer stated curtly and Lincoln turned to you.

“Why are you outside?”

“Because no one at our table showed up yet,” you said, “And you know I hate sitting alone.”

“Ah well, I’m here now so if you want-“

“I think I’ll smoke some more, thanks though,” you told him and a small smile curled Spencer’s lips before he raised his brows, looking at Lincoln who checked his watch.

“It’ll start soon though, just so you know,” he said, “See you inside.”

With that, he walked away from you into the building and Spencer turned to you.

“That was subtle.”

“He’ll be fine,” you said and threw your hands up when you caught the sight of Mina getting closer, “Did you like die or something? Where’s Kenz?”

“On her way, there was something with the babysitter, my meeting took forever!” she said, “I drove here straight from work, is mom going to kill me?”

“No one is here yet.”

“Probably because of the accident.”

You frowned, “What accident?”

“I think there’s some kind of an accident, the traffic is insane,” she eyed Spencer up and down, “Oh great, cute sad giraffe is here too.”

“Mina!” you hissed and Spencer shot you a look as if he was desperately asking for your help, but Mina waved a hand.

“I’ll be inside,” she said and walked inside while you shifted your weight.

“…Cute sad giraffe?” Spencer asked and you rubbed the back of your neck.

“Please ignore her,” you said, “I apologize on her behalf.”

Spencer stared at you, then scoffed a laugh, “Does she hate me or…?”

“She doesn’t hate you as a person, she just hates all my boyfriends as a princip- ex. Ex boyfriends.” You quickly corrected yourself, “She hates my ex boyfriends as a principle.”

“Why?”

“It’s a sister thing. I threatened one of her ex-girlfriends once, so this is what I get.”

“You threatened-“ Spencer started but you waved at Nolan who was climbing the stairs and he frowned at you and Spencer, then approached you.

“Well hello there,” he greeted you two before turning to Spencer, “I don’t think we’ve met.”

“Nolan, this is Spencer Reid,” you introduced them, “Spencer, Nolan. He’s the love of my mom’s life for some reason.”

“Nice to meet you.”

“You too,” Nolan said and clicked his tongue “You’re the infamous Dr. Reid then. I’ve heard about you.”

“Nolan,” you murmured warningly but he ignored you.

“Has Y/N mentioned the head of FBI is a good friend of mine?”

“Um- no she hasn’t—”

“Well I’d keep that in mind just in case you happen to make yet another mist—“

“Thank you Nolan!” you said very loudly, “Mina is inside, you could join her if you want- also, have you seen my mother?”

“I came here straight from my house but I sent her a car, she was on her way,” Nolan said as someone by the door called out his name and he heaved a sigh, “Business doesn’t wait, excuse me.”

“Did he just…?” Spencer asked as Nolan got inside and you shook your head fervently.

“No he didn’t.”

“That sounded like a threat.”

“Ignore him as well,” you said, “It’s just uh… You know. Rich people. They have no manners.”

He tilted his head, confused, and you waved at Kenzie who climbed the stairs at full speed and waved at you back, then pressed a hand over her chest at the sight of Spencer and winked at you before rushing inside as well.

“Anyway,” you tried to change the topic, “So I owe you breakfast then. Do you want it before or after my next emotional breakdown?”

He smiled softly, “You don’t owe me anything.”

“Oh you have no idea how much I do,” you murmured, “Do you want to get Honey Cinnamon French toast the next time? It’s full of sugar, you’d like that. Considering your coffee choices.”

His jaw dropped, “It’s not that bad!”

“I took one sip of your coffee one day while we were dating and thought I’d get into sugar coma.”

“That’s not how it works.”

“Don’t you have statistics about how it’s bad for you?”

He nodded at the cigarette between your fingers, “Do you want to hear the statistics for that too?”

“You’re on thin ice, professor,” you pointed at him, making him laugh but then both of you turned your heads when you heard your name being called. Your mother looked between you, then smiled and stepped closer.

“Dr. Reid, it’s lovely to see you again,” she said politely, “Y/N honey, why are you outside?”

“Waiting for you,” you stubbed the cigarette, “I was the first to get here.”

“I know, the driver kept going into different roads because-“

“Accident. Yeah, Mina told me.”

“Let’s go inside, it’s about to start,” she said and you looked up at him.

“So I should-“

“Yeah,” he nodded, “I should probably find Luke. It was nice to see you again, Ms Knight.”

“You too Spencer,” she said and linked her arm through yours as you walked inside, “Anything I should know about?”

“We’re just talking, mom.”

She arched a brow, “I don’t know who you got this obliviousness from, but not me,” she said and you turned to look at her.

“Hm?”

“You’d have to be blind not to see the way he looks at you.”

You blinked a couple of times, “The way he looks at me?” you repeated as you approached the table and you took your seat beside Lincoln.

“Had your smoke?” he shot you a look and you rolled your eyes at him.

“Don’t.”

“No really, are you guys sure you broke up? Like, did anyone let him know?”

Kenzie whispered something into Mina’s ear and she smiled, sipping her champagne.

“I’m a better person than you are, so it’s no wonder I have a better friendship with my exes than you do, Linc.”

“Is that what we call batting your eyelashes at your ex nowadays?” he asked and you made a face at him.

“You’re hilarious- should I buy something?” you wondered out loud, “Where’s the catalogue?”

Nolan handed you the tablet and you swiped on the screen.

“Are you buying something?”

“One or two,” Nolan said, “Your mother liked that vase on the page sixteen.”

“I will bid you for that,” your mother joked, making him smile and press a kiss on her cheek, and you downed your champagne before motioning for another.

“How’s your girlfriend?” you murmured to Lincoln and he shrugged his shoulders.

“She’s fine,” he whispered as the auctioneer started talking about the first item, “We had a small argument earlier, but…”

“About what? Did she finally see your real personality?”

“I’m sorry, I’m not taking relationship advice from a girl who’s obviously not over her ex even though she was the one who dumped him-“

“Hey, I’m trying to offer you my infinite wisdom you dickhead,” you whispered, making him chuckle.

“I’ve been working a lot these days, but I have to close this new deal,” he said, “She doesn’t seem to understand that.”

“Why don’t you pay her a visit?”

“Did you miss the part where I said I was working a lot?”

“Lincoln,” you heaved a sigh, “Honestly. If you love this girl, you need to show her that.”

“After I close this deal-“

“No, before you close your deal,” you insisted, “You don’t want to be one of those people who picked wealth over love.”

Lincoln raised his brows, “I guess we know what your pick is.”

“I take all my advice back, I hope your girlfriend dumps you,” you sipped the champagne, making him laugh.

“Come on, I’m just messing with you,” he said, “Do you want me to buy you an extra ugly vase so that you can forgive me?”

“I can buy my extra ugly vases myself, thank you,” you sulked, “Do you know what my problem is?”

“Hm?”

“I’m surrounded by love,” you nodded at Kenzie and Mina who seemed to be in their own worlds and your mother and Nolan who held hands over the table, listening to the auctioneer, “It’s like being surrounded by booze when you’re trying to go sober.”

“Hey if it makes you feel any better, my relationship is in shambles too.”

“It will stop being in shambles the moment you stop being a stubborn ass,” you murmured, still holding the fragile glass in your hand but as soon as you took another sip, your mother raised her brows, looking at someone over your shoulder, Mina narrowed her eyes and you felt someone’s presence behind you. The lovely scent filling your nostrils said it was Spencer, and your suspicion was proven when you heard a low whisper in your ear.

“Come with me.”

The champagne you were drinking went down the wrong tube and you started coughing before you stared up at him, convinced that you had just imagined that, considering it wasn’t the first time you were hearing that only in a different context.

“I’m sorry?” you managed to stammer and he frowned at your reaction, then nodded at the door.

“Outside?” he said and it dawned on you,

“Right, outside,” you murmured as you tried to pull yourself together and pushed your chair back.

“Y/N?” Mina said warningly but you shook your head.

“It’s fine, I’ll be right back,” you said as you stood up and felt Spencer’s hand on your lower back as he guided you out of the hall, his skin on yours sending a pleasant shiver down your spine. As soon as you stepped out of the hall he turned to you, his eyes searching yours frantically.

“Are you okay?” he asked in a low voice and you pulled your brows together, trying to understand what he was talking about.

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be okay?” you asked “I’m having the time of my life trying to pick between an ugly vase and an ugly painting. Seen anything you like yet? It’s for charity.”

“No, Y/N-“ he nibbled on his lip and you stared at him for a moment before your breath got caught in your throat and your hand shot up to hold his arm.

“Another murder?” you whispered, “God, did someone die? That’s why you’re being like this?”

“We just found her a block away.”

“Do I- do I know who it is?” you asked numbly and he pulled out his cellphone to show you the picture and you gasped, covering your mouth as soon as you saw the screen.

It was that woman who had bumped into you just at the beginning of the night, the one who had walked away without apologizing.

“I just…” you swallowed the lump in your throat, “I think I saw her tonight. But it- she- she was just alive, I don’t-“

“The marks show that it just happened. Very recently.”

You could feel the room spinning around you but you tried to pull yourself together.

“But I don’t-“

“Y/N,” he said your name, clearly this time, “I was talking to you probably around the time it was happening, but you mentioned you were the first one to get here right?”

You nodded slowly, “Yeah, the traffic. Well, that and the meetings and the babysitter- how is that relevant?”

Spencer fell into silence, taking a deep breath and you looked up at him.

“What?” you asked again and he stole a look at the hall.

“Obviously there’s no evidence to show this yet and I might be wrong, but do you want to know what I think?” he asked and you nodded again.

“Yes?”

“I think you were sitting with the copycat killer just now.”

You blinked dumbly, your brows furrowed in thought and slowly, very slowly that ice in your veins made its way through your system, a tingling spreading from the base of your neck up to your head. You could feel the panic crashing down on you before you turned your head to look at the your table, Mina and Kenzie watching you, Lincoln playing with his phone and your mother and Nolan having a quiet conversation. Spencer’s words echoed in your head, drowning out every single noise coming from the hall.

I think you were sitting with the copycat killer just now.

“Oh,” you breathed out, closing your eyes, “Fuck.”

Chapter 23

[eliemo]

Little Talks

Summary: As Logan starts spending more time with the Duke in an effort to keep him under control, Remus has to come to terms with the fact that the way he treated Logan may have caused lasting damage after all.

TWs: RSD, violent thoughts, strong language, blood mention (it's Remus, what did you expect)

Pairings: Developing friendship. Can be seen as platonic or romantic Intrulogical

Notes: Thank you to @cheshirevalentine for helping me create and edit this. They're amazing and I love them dearly. Their AO3 is here!

Having Logan in his room was… weird.

Remus had known it was going to be happening. Logan had made the offer to stop by Remus’s room and let the Duke bounce his ideas off of someone. He’d let Remus ramble, listen to the flood of intrusive thoughts and gory, outrageous ideas, all so that Thomas wouldn’t have to.

Remus had cheerfully referred to Logic as his “test subject” the first time he’d come in, laughing outright at the way Logan’s face had screwed up in indignation.

He didn’t really plan on actually doing anything to Logan, despite the incredibly dangerous position the light side had put himself into. He mostly just talked, reciting each and every thought that came to his head in detail, watching to see if he could get an entertaining reaction out of the ever-stoic Logan Sanders.

It didn’t really work. Logan was stupidly boring with his stuffy clothes and perfect schedule and condescending eyebrow raises. He didn’t say much the first few times he stopped by, their “talks” only lasting ten-to-fifteen minutes at most, but after a week he seemed to warm up to the idea of talking to Remus a little.

He’d ask questions- ask where Remus had gotten an idea, or ask him to expand on a particularly disturbing thought- and while Remus didn’t always have an answer, it was nice to not be completely shoved aside and ignored for once. Besides, Remus always thought of the best answers to those sorts of things on the spot. He liked the challenge of having to think on his feet.

It was still weird, though. But Logan kept showing up, day after day, and Remus could almost pretend he wasn’t the only one enjoying their talks.

He knew that Logan didn’t want to be here, of course. Their meetings were on his calendar, so it was obviously an obligation. He was doing it so Thomas could get some sleep, and Remus could be a little less of a burden. Of course.

Remus had only only expected it to last a few days, if he was honest. A week at most. He knew he was a lot to deal with, especially alone, and he knew it would only be a matter of time until Logan decided it was all too much and forgot all about their little “arrangement”.

But Logan came back the next week, and the week after that, and soon fifteen minutes turned into twenty, then thirty, and some days he even stayed almost a whole hour.

Remus found he actually felt a little less agitated after Logan left, his head just a tiny bit more quiet. Tormenting Thomas was the closest thing he’d ever had to talking things out, and it was a little discouraging when the reactions were either horrified screams, insults, or pretending he didn’t exist.

Logan actually listened. He listened and engaged.

Remus loved Janus. And Deceit did what he could, but he didn’t have the same tolerance as Logan did for some of the gross things Remus came up with.

Maybe Logic would be open to dissecting something with him sometime…?

-

He should have known it wouldn’t last. Nobody stuck around Remus very long. He always did something to fuck it up.

He really should have known the way he’d treated Logan when he’d first made his appearance would be a problem. Logic separated himself from the Imagination, the side grounded deeply in reality, but a lack of lasting damage didn’t mean it hadn’t happened.

Remus had still hurt Logan to prove a point. And then had promptly moved on and forgotten about it until the next time it was brought up. Sometimes object permanence- or lack thereof- was a pain in the ass.

Remus had been ranting as usual, pacing around his room while Logan watched from the chair. He honestly couldn’t even remember what he was talking about, his mouth moving without much thought as it tended to do.

Whatever it was, he’d gotten worked up and excited, pacing the room, waving and flapping his arms as he talked, smile bright and mischievous and he whirled back to face Logan and-

And Logan flinched back, squeezing his eyes shut as his hands clutched the arm of his chair, shoulders hunched protectively.

It only lasted a second, Logan quickly pulling himself together and compulsively smoothing his tie once again. He seemed to do that when he was trying to pretend he was collected, Remus had noticed. His shoulders uncurled as he leaned forward again, but he wouldn’t quite look Remus in the eyes.

“Continue,” Logan said, when he realized Remus had stopped talking. “You were rambling about...something objectively disgusting.”

“I’m not stupid, you know.” Remus said, crossing his arms and ignoring the stupid, pointless hurt that blossomed in his chest when Logan couldn’t even recall what Remus had been saying. “I saw that.”

Logan blinked, staring at the Duke blankly. “Saw what?”

“You flinched.”

Logan scoffed, adjusting his glasses to avoid meeting Remus’s eyes. Again. “I did no such thing.”

“No, you did. I saw it.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Logan said, jumping right back into that emotionless facade he was so obsessed with. “Are you going to continue?”

Remus couldn’t even remember what he’d been talking about, his head flooded with images of Logan flinching away, eyes wide in terror, scrambling to get away.

Logan with a throwing star embedded in his forehead, with his mouth full of blood, crimson dripping down his forehead and chin, seeping into his pristine clothes and staining his tie. The thoughts seemed to dip into that spiral they always went down, swirling down the metaphorical drain pipe into his metaphorical pit-of-sewage excuse for a brain.

“No,” Remus said, shaking the thoughts away for the moment. Like stirring the cesspool a little so all the muck settled to the bottom. Metaphorically. “I’m good.”

Logan sighed, and Remus stepped away as the logical side stood up from his chair. “Then we’re done for the day.”

“Bye then.”

If there was one thing Remus was good at, it was pretending not to be bothered by the little things, by the way everyone perceived him. He was a terror and a burden, and he enjoyed it. It was funny! He didn’t care if he was liked, intrusive thoughts were never liked.

Remus flopped down on his bed, watching Logan’s back as he left. He was moving quickly, almost panicked, slipping out the door and closing it shut behind him.

Remus didn’t care if the stupid light sides liked him. He never had. But Logan… Logan was scared. Of him.

Scaring people was never the goal. Making Logan flinch like Remus was going to hurt him was never the goal.

Logan would deny it to his grave, of course. He was stupidly stubborn like that, somehow more stubborn than even Remus at times.

He’d insist that Logic had never felt a revolting feeling like fear in his life. He had no feelings on the matter, and Remus couldn’t frighten him because Logan had no feelings at all. Not enjoyment, not dislike, and not fear. Remus was another obligation on his schedule. Something to attend to. Nothing more.

And while Remus knew all of that was true… he also knew Logan was full of shit. He had feelings. His feelings might even be stronger than Patton’s or Roman’s. (Though it was doubtful. Weepy bitches they were- far too emotional for Remus’s tastes.)

And he was afraid of Remus. He’d made that perfectly clear today.

He… didn’t know how to fix that. His job wasn’t to fix problems. He made the problems. It’s better to start now than to never start at all, he supposed.

Well, obviously he had to start by finding a new coping mechanism. Logan was helpful, and possibly the healthiest outlet Remus had ever had, but he wouldn’t force someone who was terrified of him to come sit in his room and listen to him talk about guts and gore for an hour. He would have to find something to do in place of their talks.

A part of him doubted Logan would even come back again. Remus had caught him flinching, and with Remus’s reputation he wouldn’t be surprised if Logan assumed he would use the fear to his advantage.

And yeah, maybe under different circumstances he would have. Scaring people was fun but… not like this.

But that was fine, he could readjust to being alone. He’d done it before. He could lock himself in the Imagination, annoy Janus until he finally snapped and drove him away, maybe even pay Thomas another visit if he really got desperate.

He wasn’t disappointed. He’d gone his whole life without Logan’s company, he had no reason to miss it. It wasn’t fair to miss something he had barely begun to get used to. Logan was annoying and boring and stuck up, and Remus didn’t know why he enjoyed his company in the first place.

Not that he enjoyed it. He didn’t. He didn’t care.

He spent all night feeding himself those repeating lies, preparing to entertain himself all on his own tomorrow, so he was almost more annoyed than surprised when Logan walked right into his room the next day, same time as always.

Remus sat up in bed, watching in disbelief as Logan made his way to the chair and set his notebook on the table, settling in like nothing had changed.

“What the fuck are you doing here?”

Logan looked up at him, hands folded neatly in his lap. “I said I would make an effort to see you everyday. I put it in my schedule. If I’m not going to be able to make it, I will inform you the day before.”

“Oh,” Remus said, not bothering to move from the bed. “Well, that’s boring and predictable.”

“I prefer to have a schedule rather than do things on a whim. And I’m here now.”

“Yes,” Remus said, shifting to stare blankly at the wall beside Logan’s head. He bet he could spit that far if he really tried. “You are.”

There was a beat of silence that didn’t often exist in Remus’s room. Usually he would start talking right away about whatever late night thoughts he’d been plagued with, chatting on excitedly until Logan cut in to add something dumb and nerdy.

Remus didn’t plan on breaking the silence this time, choosing to sit and quietly dwell on his thoughts on his own, smirking at the utterly baffled look on Logan’s face.

Logan cleared his throat, frowning slightly. “What’s on your mind?”

“Lot’s of things!”

“Are you going to talk about them?” Logan asked. “That is why I’m here.”

“Nah.” He hated this, hated the way Logan was pretending to care, like he didn’t want to get up right now and run as far away from Remus as possible. Just like everyone else. “Intrusive thoughts aren’t always words, Nerdy Wolverine.”

He saw Logan shift uncomfortably, eyes darting briefly to the door, and Remus realized that might not have been the best way to phrase things.

“Ah,” Logan said, sitting back like he wasn’t terrified. “You can always show me instead. That is what I’m here for.”

“I’m good,” Remus said, doing his best to sound uncaring. “It’s gross.”

“Yes, I’m aware it probably is.” Another beat of silence and Logan sighed, standing from his chair. “Remus. The point of me being here is to keep Thomas’s intrusive thoughts under control. We’ve discussed this.”

And Remus knew Logan didn’t actually enjoy Remus’s company, he’d known that from the beginning, but it still hurt to hear. It hurt something fierce, a deep, sharp slash in his chest that he would swear he could feel, that he was just something to “keep under control”.

He pushed the feeling down, flashing Logan a toothy grin that he knew looked ridiculously fake. “Okay.”

Logan sighed again, pushing up his glasses to pinch the bridge of his nose. Remus wondered if he could frustrate Logic into storming out. “I’m here to help you.”

“I don’t need your help.”

“You do,” Logan argued, like he had any idea. “Surely talking to someone is better than being alone with your thoughts,”

Remus scowled, shoving himself off the bed and stalking past Logan, moving towards one of the various piles of rubble and bones scattered around his room. He bet Logan hated how cluttered it was in here.

“At least my thoughts don’t pretend to care about me.”

Remus kicked idly at something that looked a bit like a spine, staring blankly at the floor as he let his words settle.

“What?” Logan sounded genuinely confused for the first time. “What does that mean?”

“Hm?” Remus glanced over his shoulder, grinning. “What did I say?”

Logan stepped forward, shoes clicking against the floor, echoing against the now silent room. “I do not understand why you’re suddenly being difficult.”

“Suddenly?”

“Yes, suddenly,” Logan said, and Remus turned away again with an eye roll. “We had an arrangement.”

“Did we?”

“Yes.” Logan touched his arm, and Remus yanked away so fast he thought he might have pulled something. “This is beneficial for everyone.”

“Right,” Remus scoffed. “For everyone.”

Logan actually had the audacity to look taken aback, brow drawing in further confusion. “Yes? You have an outlet, and Thomas gets a break.”

“I don’t need it. I can bash skulls in the Imagination.”

“Which is significantly more unhealthy.”

Remus shrugged, kicking another bone until it slammed into the wall. “It’s easy and fun.”

“We were doing fine,” Logan said, trying to move around him so Remus would meet his gaze. “I thought coming in to talk to you was helping.”

“You don’t care,” Remus snapped. “And you don’t want to listen.”

“I want to,” Logan said. “That is why I’m here.”

“Right.”

“I am incredibly busy, Remus,” Logan said, and Remus felt like he was being lectured. “I would not be here if I didn’t want to be.”

“Then get gone!” Remus spun around gesturing to the door. “Just fucking leave already!”

“I think I’d prefer to stay.”

“You said you’re busy,” Remus snarled. “If you’re so busy you don’t need to carve out time for me.”

“I chose to.”

“Thomas can live with intrusive thoughts,” Remus said. “He’ll be fine. Patton and Virgil will ease up eventually. You should be focused on them.”

“I have been.” Logan was still staring at him, and at this point Remus was considering storming out of his own room. “I have time for you.”

“I thought you were busy,” Remus argued, back to being difficult on purpose. “Which is it? Are you busy or do you have time?”

Logan sighed, and now Remus felt like a child throwing a tantrum. “I’ve made time. I’m making time for you.”

“Right.”

“I don’t understand what changed,” Logan said. “I thought you were getting some enjoyment out of our talks.”

“Yeah, I was,” Remus admitted because despite everything, that was the truth. “But you aren’t.”

It took a moment for Logan to respond, no less confused than before. “I am perfectly content.”

“Yeah?” Remus finally turned around to face him, looking the logical side right in the eyes. “Then why did you flinch?”

Logan blinked, shoulders tense, a mix of panic and understanding flickering in his eyes. “I...did not flinch.”

“Yes, you did. Don’t lie.”

It was Logan’s turn to scoff, like Remus was being ridiculous and dramatic. And he often was, but he was serious this time. “I don’t see how one involuntary movement has become such a big deal.”

Remus didn’t look away, even as Logan’s eyes began to wander. “You’re afraid of me.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Logan said. “I do not feel fear.”

“Yes you do.” Remus stepped closer, taking in the way Logan’s jaw clenched. “You have feelings.”

“No I don’t.”

“You do.”

“You’re figuratively jumping to conclusions,” Logan said, quickly changing the subject. “I am perfectly content spending time with you.”

“I’m not jumping to anything,” Remus said. “You’re scared.”

Logan rolled his eyes, hands lifting to brush over his tie before crossing his arms across his chest. Compulsory comfort action.

“You think you saw me flinch once and now you believe that I’m afraid of you, when there is no logical reason to be. You cannot cause any lasting damage to me, so I—”

Remus lifted a hand without warning, fast and sudden like he was going to strike Logan, keeping it frozen in the air as he took in the reaction before him.

Logan flinched back as soon as Remus moved, his own hands moving to protect his face, eyes glued to Remus’s raised arm, widening in genuine fear and shock.

Remus sighed, slowly lowering his hand as he watched Logan struggle to compose himself. “You’re afraid of me.”

“No,” Logan still had the audacity to argue. “I am not.”

“You flinched.”

Logan fixed his tie again. Remus knew it was some kind of nervous tic. “You startled me.”

“I lifted my hand.”

“Yes,” Logan agreed. “Unexpectedly.”

Remus sighed and stepped back out of Logan’s space, too tired to keep arguing.

“I’m not going to hurt you.” He winced at his own words, images flashing in his mind of Logan stumbling backwards with wide eyes, of Logan covered in blood, of Patton screaming. “Not again, anyway.”

“Well,” Logan said, carefully clearing his throat. “You can understand that I wasn’t exactly…sure. That does not mean I dislike you. Or that I’m frightened of you.”

Remus found himself looking at his shoes, trying and failing to get images of Logan hurt, Logan dying, out of his stupid cesspool sewage pipe head.

He wondered if this was what guilt felt like. If it was, maybe he should start being nicer to Patton. This sucked dick and balls.

“I won’t.”

“And I appreciate that,” Logan said. “But you could not cause any lasting damage to me anyway.”

“So? It still, like… hurt you. I’m not gonna do it again.”

“Well then, I have no reason to be afraid.” Logan straightened, smiling at Remus like that had just solved everything. “Which I wasn’t in the first place.”

Remus’s eyes narrowed. “You flinched.”

“Yes I did,” Logan admitted. “I apologize for that. I can assure you it won’t happen again.”

Remus didn’t move, staring at Logan in disbelief, at a loss for words for the first time in his life. He hoped the exhaustion on his face resembled a glare at least a little bit.

“I don’t… understand,” Logan said, and Remus couldn't even stay mad at him. “Was an apology not what you wanted?”

“No, Logan. I don’t want anything.”

Logan tilted his head slightly, brow furrowed, and Remus could practically see the gears turning as he looked Remus over. “You’re still upset.”

“Why’re you still here?” Remus finally demanded, throwing his arms out in exasperation. “If you’re afraid of me why don’t you just leave?”

Logan blinked, seemingly unfazed. “Because I enjoy talking to you.”

Logic may as well have just punched him right in the chest, the air leaving his lungs in a rush as he took a step back, choking out a shocked laugh. “That can’t be it.”

Logan frowned. “Why not?”

“Nobody enjoys talking to me.”

“Well,” Logan said slowly, and it was like Remus could see some of his walls coming down. “If it helps, no one particularly enjoys talking to me, either.”

Remus wasn’t entirely convinced that was true, but he figured he wasn’t the right one to give Logan a talk on self esteem.

“I like talking to you,” he said instead. “I just think you’re kinda stuffy.”

“I enjoy talking to you as well,” Logan said, and it really did sound like he meant it. “I would just prefer if your more violent thoughts were not physically manifested.”

“Oh.” Remus swallowed, absolutely refusing to show Logic how much this meant to him. He wasn’t going to cry. “Yeah, I can...do that. Sure.”

“Then I’m glad we could come to an understanding,” Logan said, right back to the stiff, professional persona Remus was learning to see right through. “I’m not afraid of you.”

Remus nodded, and realized he was actually starting to believe him this time. “Yeah. Ok. That’s good.”

Logan stepped back out of Remus’s space and Remus quickly did the same, the two of them standing on opposite sides of the Duke’s now painfully silent bedroom.

“I can leave,” Logan said after a moment. “If you’d still like me to.”

Remus hesitated, fighting to keep acting like he didn’t care. “Do you want to leave?”

“Not particularly,” Logan said, and Remus hadn’t expected to feel so relieved. “But it’s your room. I don’t want to intrude.”

“You’re not.” Remus moved back to his bed, dropping himself unceremoniously onto his back. “Don’t leave if you don’t want to. I don’t care.”

“Then I’ll stay.”

Logan pulled up his usual chair, leaning back comfortably as he picked his notebook back up and began flipping idly through it. He looked content and relaxed when Remus risked a glance in his direction, and he smiled to himself.

“You can talk if you like,” Logan said, glancing up from the pages. “I’m listening.”

Remus did eventually start talking, dumping his latest ideas on Logan like he usually did, diving into last night’s fantasy of setting an office building on fire in the middle of the week.

Logan had added on, and Remus had listened intently as he’d recited statistics and calculations, the likelihood of survival, and the two of them eventually decided it would be a waste of time, the fire likely to be put out before even causing any real damage to the building.

That was a talent Logan had. He could get Remus to let go of a thought that typically wouldn’t have left him alone for weeks.

It wasn’t until Logan had stood up to leave for dinner, promising he’d be back at the same time tomorrow, that Remus realized Logan had stayed twice as long as he usually did.

Huh.

Weird.