#plus when he leans against a wall or a doorframe you KNOW shit's about to go down Tumblr posts

[divineandmajesticinone]

25 Ji, Akasaka de / At 25:00 in Akasaka (2024) I 1.05

Nagumo Shoma as Yamase Kazuma

[wardenparker]

Bones Full of Words, ch 3

Javier Peña x plus size reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

“He pleaded so much that he lost his voice. His bones began to fill with words.” ― Gabriel García Márquez, One Hundred Years of Solitude

Javier Peña had no way of knowing for certain the American journalist he sometimes sees sniffing around the embassy for her stories is also getting information about the narcos from the same girls that he is. After Helena is brutalized by sicarios, it is that same journalist who comes to take her away and look after her -- giving Javi reason to pause and reconsider his opinion of the woman he had previously not considered as anything more than eye candy.

He has no idea that once she has walked fully into his life, he will be battling with himself over whether or not he should stop her from walking out it of again.

Rating: E for Explicit! 18+ Word Count: 10.8k Warnings: *Blanket warnings for this series: sex work, time period appropriate sexism, cursing, alcohol, food/eating, talk of weight or size, fatphobia (sometimes internalized and sometimes not), canon typical violence* Mentions of Helena's assault and recovery, snooping, assumptions, jumping to conclusions, mention of death, drunken silliness, secrets. Summary: In the aftermath of Helena's attack, you and Javier do your best to take care of her. But it leads to butting heads, accusations, and an uncomfortable revelation from your mutual friends. Notes: Thank you all so much for your wonderful response to this story so far! I'm glad to hear people are enjoying it!

Ch 1 ~ Ch 2

Whatever Javier had to do at the embassy, it's none of your business. Helena sleeps while he takes care of it, she sleeps while you're at your apartment packing a bag, and she's just waking up when you return to the apartment to the sight of Javier Peña shoving his gun in the back of his pants.

Stake out, he explains gruffly, and then tells you to order some food for dinner after pointing to the drawer in his kitchen that holds extra cash and a few take out menus from local restaurants.

Helena had slept through his own watch over her. Letting Javi sit and shed a few, swiped away tear in peace. Quietly asking her for forgiveness that he did not deserve. He shouldn’t have pushed her for information, shouldn’t have asked her to risk everything for him. Not when he could give her nothing in return. He was still being denied a visa, leaving her abandoned here as a casualty of this vicious war.

"She'll be okay." You wouldn't condescend to say we and include yourself in the thought, knowing that Peña doesn't give a shit about you or even really know you from a whole in the wall. You're here to take care of Helena and that's rightfully what he cares about. "Go do whatever you have to do."

Your tone is one that rubs him the wrong way. It’s judgmental, grating. As if you know his part in Helena’s tragedy and view him as no better than the men who had abused her. “Thank you for your permission.” He grouses, frowning as he strides out of the kitchen. “I didn’t realize I was fucking married.”

"Asshole." Grumbling at his back as he heads for the door, you huff and shake your head before turning back to the guest room where Helena is staying. He probably heard you. You might even hope he did. But it doesn't matter, you're not here to make a new best friend. You're just caring for one under his roof.

When you see Helena is finally awake again, you smile from the bedroom door. "Hey sleepyhead." A soft, gentle teasing. Helena usually likes it when you joke with her. "Can I get you anything? Another pillow? A glass of water?"

“I— I don’t know.” She admits quietly. She’s been given good painkillers at Javier’s insistence, but they have been leaving her groggy. “How long was I asleep?”

"Most of the day." But you smile and lean against the doorframe, glad to see her slightly less out of it this time. "I'll get us some water and I'll come and sit with you. How does that sound?"

“You should go home.” She frowns slightly and winces because it pulls at the cuts. “I know you are busy.”

"I'm not too busy for you." That, at least, is the absolute truth. "Sorry, beautiful. But you're stuck with me for at least a few days." Blowing her a kiss from the doorway, you knock softly on the dark wood and step back. "Water. I'll be right back."

Left by herself, Helena closes her eyes again. Unsure of why she thought she had heard Javi’s voice when he’s not here. Wondering if you’ve discovered the secret that she’s kept from you.

Within a minute you're back again, carrying two bar glasses of cold water and settling yourself in the chair beside her bed before handing one over. "Are you relatively comfortable?" You ask, ready to pop up and fix anything she needs.

“I’m fine.” It’s a lie, but she isn’t going to run you ragged because of what happened to her. She takes the water and gratefully sips, feeling like her mouth is dry and her throat rough.

“With all the love in my heart, I don’t believe you.” You shoot your friend a grin and stand up again. “Pillows? Blankets? I can open the windows if you want some fresh air.”

She sighs and shakes her head. “Open the window.” She gives in after a moment. “But there is nothing you can do for me, really.”

“I can sit and keep you company.” There is no possibility that you’ll ask her what happened. Her discharge paperwork from the hospital told you everything you need to know and more, and you will not make her talk about that. Not ever. If she chooses to open up about it that is up to her. In the meantime, the least you can do is open a window, so you pop out of your chair to do that. “Javier had some work to take care of so it’s just you and me for a while.”

She sighs softly and looks over at the window as you open the curtains before throwing it wide to let the fresh air in.

“There we go.” The smile you offer her is as soft as it can be, and you wipe your hands as if it was a job well done. “Much less stuffy.”

She doesn’t say anything, just nods and drinks down the rest of the water. Finishing the glass quickly and setting it down.

“Would you…” Shifting slightly, you look over at her again and bite back any kind of tone whatsoever that could upset your friend or make her think you’re judging her in the least. That couldn’t be further from the truth. “Prefer if I left you alone?”

“I don’t know.” She admits softly. “I feel…numb.”

"That sounds...pretty fair, honestly." Though you nod vaguely, you pick up her empty water glass from the nightstand and hold it up like a salute. "I'm going to grab you some more water and we can just sit if you want to. No need to talk or anything. Just...be. Or if you want to be distracted, we can do that, too. Even if it only helps for a few seconds, that's better than nothing."

"I think I want to sleep again." Helena admits, feeling a little ashamed of that. It’s blissful in that deep sleep from the painkillers. No thoughts or dreams.

“Then you should get some sleep.” You nod again, more purposefully this time, and pick up your glass along with hers. “I’ll leave you a fresh glass by the bed, and I’ll go read my book in the living room. Nice quiet apartment, no surprises or anything. Just enjoy your rest.”

"Thank you." Her thanks is whispered, her eyes already closing as she slips back into sleep. She's exhausted and feeling like no matter how long she sleeps, it will never be enough. Not after what she's been through.

Water for the two of you. That happens first. And then you half close the door to the guest room that Helena is in and take your book out to the sunken living room. You guess you’ll just…sit and read until you get hungry or until Helena needs something. Or maybe it’s the perfect time to work on your column since you have the quiet of the apartment to work in.

******

“So you have the girl and someone else in your apartment?” Steve asks, looking over at Javier still wearing his sunglasses despite the sun going down. “Yeah.” He grunts, shrugging slightly and trying to shove down the annoyance at the simple question. “American too. Don’t know why the fuck she’s involved.” He had questions, but he wasn’t going to ask Helena them right now.

“There’s a complete stranger in your apartment taking care of your injured informant and you don’t even know why she’s there?” Steve’s leans back in the driver’s seat of the car as they stake out some nightclub supposedly being used as a stop point for money and supplies by some of the sicarios in the area. Tonight is Surveillance before they get into the thick of it. “Very thorough, Jav.”

“It’s not like she’s a fucking spy for Pablo.” Although, now he’s frowning because he hadn’t had time to clear away the tapes he had gotten. They are still sitting out on the coffee table.

“That you know of.” Murphy snarked, smirk curling the corner of his mouth. He had already called in a background check on you to the embassy when Javi got out of the car to take a leak, but the chance to fuck with his partner was never a thing Steve Murphy could or would give up.

His jaw tightens, his glare deepening slightly as he stares at the door to the club. “Pay attention.” He huffs. “And fucking practice your goddamn Spanish.”

“Cranky.” He chuckles, pleased with himself as he sips from his coffee cup.

Huffing, Javi doesn’t dignify Steve with an answer. Instead he leans forward when someone approaches the door. “Who the fuck is that?”

“6’1”, about…thick build…American clothing…” Steve reaches for the binoculars as quickly as possible and grunts. “CIA,” he grumbles. “I’ve seen that guy around the embassy.”

“The fuck is this fucker doing here?” Javi hisses, leaning forward and instantly not liking this fucker. Something about him rubs Javi the wrong way.

“Looks like he’s chatting with the bartender.” Steve reports, thanks to the large picture windows of the club.

Javi frowns, leaning back. “How the fuck does the CIA have a beat on this place?”

"Beats the shit out of me," the other man admits. "I'm surprised he knows which way his asshole points."

That is enough to give a small snort of amusement, motioning for Steve to take a photo. “The spooks hate when you get them.” He tells Steve.

"Fuck 'em." Steve snorts, aiming his camera and taking three shots just for good measure.

“That’s the spirit.” Javi leans back and watches the conversation carefully, wishing he could know what is being said.

"They're pal-y, but I wouldn't say she likes him too much," Steve observes after a few more minutes. "Her body language is real skeptical."

“I would be too.” He huffs and taps his phone on his thigh. He could make a call, make things difficult for the agent, but he would rather see what happens.

"She just pulled out an envelope from under the bar." Steve still has the binoculars pressed to his eyes and chews his lip for a moment. "Handed it to him. He looked excited for a second, but his face just dropped."

“Wonder what’s in the envelope.” Javi narrows his eyes as if he could see what was written on the paper he opened.

"Bad news whatever it is." The other man says, based on the way the CIA agent inside is now gesticulating exaggeratedly at the bartender.

“We could pay a kid to pick pocket him.” Javi suggests, glancing over at Steve.

Murphy smirks, eagerly sitting up in his seat. "What's the price of a pickpocket these days?"

“For you or for me?” Javi snorts as he eyes a group of almost teenagers grouped near a bodega a few doors down. “Stay here.” He tells his partner as he opens the door.

It's a fair point, but Steve still frowns reflexively as he watches his partner approach the group of kids. They chat for barely more than a minute, Javi shakes hands with one of them, and then he walks back to the car with a swagger in his stride.

Javi smirks as he climbs back onto the car. “Cost me ten bucks and he gets to keep whatever cash is in the fucker’s wallet.” He tells Steve.

Murphy's laugh is deep and true, an honest rumbling chuckle at the expense of the agent currently standing in the bar. "Nice touch."

“You get in your licks where you can.” The CIA has been a thorn in his side, obviously playing both sides and being so goddamn smug about it. Not caring about the lives being ruined by their involvement.

"Anytime we can kick a spook, I'm in." Murphy agrees, picking up his binoculars again.

The kid is good, Javi has to admit that. He doesn’t just enter the club and immediately make his way to the gringo. He scopes him out, obviously not his first time pick-pocketing someone. Javi chuckles to himself as he watches him circle around the bar.

It takes nearly ten minutes before the kid makes his way back outside. His hands are empty, of course, when he appears. Nonchalantly walking through the alley, he pulls the wallet from his pocket, slips the cash out, and tosses it down in the middle of the street directly beside Javi's car door as he continues on his way through the alley. The envelope protrudes from the top of the wallet, ready and waiting to be read.

Javi grunts, getting back out of the car and looking around before he leans down and scoops the envelope out of the wallet and leaves it there. Making sure he touches nothing else. He climbs back into the car and hands it to Steve before starting the engine. “Need to move.”

“Hell of an efficient system,” Steve snorts as Javi pulls the car away. He’s learned that there are things from his partner that he needs to ignore and things he very much ought to learn. Employing the talents of some local kids without being told off is definitely a skill to be learned.

"Gets things done." He circles the block and finds a spot on the opposite side of the street, away from the discarded wallet. If the CIA dick does realize he's been stolen from, they can claim they had nothing to do with it. "What's the letter say?" He asks.

“Alex,” he reads off the name in the greeting line of the note and shrugs. It’s a boring, normal name just like ‘Steve’ is. “Sorry I can’t meet you tonight. I’m helping out a friend who got hurt at work and need to stay with her overnight for the next few days. Beep me if you want to make some dinner plans this week, I might be able to swing it depending on how my friend is doing.” Steve reads off the pager number and name signed at the bottom of the page before holding it to to Javi with an expectant expression on his face.

“Motherfucker.” Javi hisses, recognizing the number and slapping his hand against the steering wheel.

“What?” Steve huffs, not wanting to admit that the reaction had made him jump a little.

He recognizes that number, has dialed it recently. “We’re done.” He decides, turning the key again. “We aren’t going to find shit here.”

“The fuck is going in, Jav?” His partner asks, tone turning serious.

“Nothing.” Javi snorts, shaking his head. “Fucking sicarios won’t be within ten miles of this fucking place.”

“You figure they’re all still in Medellín?” If He’s Honest, Murphy really doesn’t know what set his partner off, except the possibility of the weird circumstantial coincidence between whoever wrote this note and the girl staying at Javi’s—— “Oh fuck.”

He’s got to give it to Murphy, he’s not too dumb. “Fuckers.”

Murphy shifts in his seat, imagining the deeply fucking uncomfortable confrontation that will no doubt occur at his partner’s apartment in no more than a half an hour. “Do you want backup?” He asks, unsure how else he can help.

He doesn’t answer, just firing up the engine again and pulling away from the curb with a yank of the wheel. A fucking CIA informant is in his house. He knew the bastards played dirty, but this is going too far.

******

Helena sleeps most of the evening and into the night. You’ve got around a hundred pages of your book left but you e put it down in favor of picking up pencil and notepad to work on your article, though you know it won’t quite be what your editor had in mind. Next week’s column on the sacrifices made and abuses endured by the working girls of Colombia will be unusual by your paper’s standards. It’s all in service of the greater narrative.

By the time Javi drops Steve off and gets back to his apartment, he’s furious. Wondering what all your rifled through to report back to your boyfriend.

The door slams so hard it rattles the frame when he comes into the apartment, and you jump up from the couch in the living room with a start. “Quiet!” You hiss out to the entry hall, putting your hands up in case he’s forgotten you’re here. “Helena’s sleeping again.”

Javi rushes forward and grabs you, spinning you around and hauling you up against the wall. “Where is it?” He demands, his hands running over your body. “Are you fucking wired?”

“What the fuck are you talking about?!” You hiss back, shoving Javier off of you just as forcefully as he had come at you. The sheer definition of fight or flight has you giving his aggression back to him full throttle. “Be fucking quiet! She just got back to sleep!”

Javi stumbles back but grabs you again, shaking you. “You’re fucking spying on me!”

“What?” Shoving him away again, you put both hands out in a sort of unconscious show of innocence as much as trying to keep him away. “I’m not fucking spying on you!”

“Then what the fuck are you doing?” He hisses, narrowing a hot glare at you. “It’s just fucking coincidence you are passing notes to the fucking CIA?”

“What the fucking are you talking about?” The best that you can do right now to keep the sounds from carrying down the hall is to move this conversation into his kitchen so you stalk past him and motion sharply for him to follow.

He growls when you just slide by him like you own the fucking place. It makes him want to throw you out on your ass, but Helena asked for you.

“Tell me what the fuck you’re talking about,” you insist, crossing your arms in the middle of his kitchen.

“Don’t fucking play stupid, sweetheart.” Javi scoffs, rolling his eyes. “CIA is just fucking pissed off we’ve shut them out of the investigation. So what? They decided to send you when the opportunity presented itself?”

“CIA doesn’t know jack shit and I wouldn’t tell them anyway.” The people that you’ve met at the embassy from the CIA are…well, Alex is the very best of them. But you can’t see how he would know about Alex and you since he didn’t even recognize you from being around the embassy from time to time.

“Bullshit.” He grunts.

“I’m a fucking journalist, Javier.” You spit at him, disgusted with the boorish way he’s barreled into this line of questioning. “I know when to keep my fucking nose clean and I know when to keep my mouth shut.”

“A journalist?” He’s highly skeptical of that but it is plausible.

“I’m going to brush past the fact that we’ve passed each other in the embassy halls at least a half dozen times and you didn’t recognize me at all when we officially met.” That’s annoying, and embarrassing, but expected. Infuriatingly handsome men do not notice girls like you. “But yes, I’m a journalist. The human-interest side of the War on Drugs. Showing people the real face of what’s going on down here alongside all of the facts and figures that make up the cartels. I’m here to work, I’m not a fucking spy.”

He remembers seeing you in the Embassy now, he had thought you were a secretary. Your ass had looked good in that pencil skirt and pink blouse. “So what? You just happened to get in bed with the CIA?” He pulls out the note and holds it up.

“How the fuck did you get that?” Snatching the note away with quick fingers, you hold it like he might have somehow hurt the paper and huff in disgust. “Way to be fucking literal, Javier. I had a date with my boyfriend tonight that I had to cancel. Is that okay with you?”

He curls his nose, repulsed by the idea that you would date that guy. Confused as to why he would give a damn too. “So why is the goddamn bartender at the club we were staking out tonight passing that note to him?” He demands. “Fucking convenient.”

This time your forehead furrowed in genuine curiosity. “Why the hell are you stalking out my building?”

“Your building?” Now it’s time for Javi to look confused. “The fucking club was supposed to be an informal meeting for the sicarios tonight.”

“Are you kidding me?” Your eyes widen in shock. “I just—I live upstairs! The bartender—Inez has been my friend since I got to Colombia, that’s all. When I went by my place earlier to get clothes, I left a note for Alex at the bar with her.”

Javi’s hands go to his hips and he stares at you. Waiting for you to give him some indication that you are lying, but you don’t. You don’t shuffle or look off to the side. Your own gaze takes on a challenging glint and it’s him that breaks first, glancing down at your lips and then back up. “And how did you get tangled up with Helena?” He demands. “Ran into her at the bodega?”

“No.” When you shake your head it’s just a little thing. Just a small motion. “I’m…a client,” you admit, releasing the breath you were holding. “And a friend. But friendship came later.”

His brows shoot up, getting the last answer he ever thought he would hear. He had expected some vague explanation that would continue to fuel his doubts about your motives but his tense frame relaxes when he hears that you had rolled around in Helena’s bed with her. Instantly trying to imagine that scene and instantly feeling guilty for it because of the other woman’s recent ordeal. “Okay.” He says simply.

“If I had thought my personal bullshit mattered to anything, I would have told you.” It twists your stomach and punches your nerves in ways you don’t want to examine too closely, to find Javier Peña upset and angry at you. That’s not a feeling you’re going to give too much thought to if you can help it.

“Who you fuck isn’t my problem.” He holds his hands up, not judging you for wanting to have sex with Helena. “With women at least.” He snorts. “But fucking a CIA cuck?” He shakes his head. “That’s sad.”

“He’s nice to me.” It sounds like a poor defense when it comes out of your mouth, but it’s the truth. It’s only been a few weeks and Alex has been nothing but nice.

“Yeah.” Javi snorts again. “I bet.” He has a reasonable idea why he’s so nice to you and it has nothing to do with finding you attractive.

Your brow furrows more deeply. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You live above a club that has been on the fucking watchlist for months.” He chuckles. “I bet there’s a great view of the entrance from your windows, isn’t there?”

The protest is on the tip of your tongue. It’s right there. Alex is a nice guy. He’s sweet and he never protests your weird hours. Or even insisted that you stop seeing the girls. “Yeah.” Your voice turned small and defeated. “Yeah…I guess there is.”

You seem to deflate and for a second, Javier feels that same nagging tug of guilt that he feels when he thinks of Helena. Like he's at fault. Instead of letting it linger, he shifts. "If you're going to be here, you don't pass anything to him." He tells you. "Or I'll have your visa revoked so fucking fast it'll take a week for your ass to catch up to it." He promises. "Doesn't matter how nice it is." He growls, turning around and stalking off.

“I wasn’t fucking going to.” You growl at his back, but immediately thump off to the guest room where Helena is sleeping so you don’t have to look at him.

Closing the door to his bedroom behind him, Javi sighs. closing his eyes as the tension from the past few days weighs him down. He needs a fucking break and this new discovery just makes him even more stressed. His cock twitches in his pants and he thinks about what he really needs. He needs to fuck and he reaches up to rub his neck, feeling the knot of tension there. Maybe Vanessa is back from Medellín.

******

You close the door of the guest room carefully behind you, working not to wake Helena up, until you turn to sit down in the chair beside her bed again and find her with her eyes open staring at the ceiling. “Hey beautiful,” you hum, instantly moving to her side. “How are you feeling?”

"The same." She admits softly. "Numb." She lifts her fingers and wiggles them slightly before she looks over at you. "Did I hear Javier?" She asks, hoping that he will come in and see her. That heavy feeling in her chest might disappear if he's in here.

“Um…yeah. He’s back.” The hope in her voice breaks your heart, so you try to excuse it as quickly as you can. Excuse him even though he doesn’t deserve it. “In a bad mood.”

She sighs softly. "Then he will be leaving again." She murmurs. "Finding Vanessa or Freckles for company."

“Is that what he does when he’s in a bad mood?” That makes you frown even more, imagining how he must treat them when he comes in angry.

She catches your frown and reaches over, touching your hand. "It's not bad." She promises you softly. "He has never left a bruise that wasn't wanted." She knows you are aware of some pleasurable bruises, you've left a few yourself. "He just....exhausts himself with us when he is worked up."

“I worry,” you admit, just as quietly, and squeeze her hand back. “Obviously. Worrying too much is why you had my beeper number.” Which, in turn, is evidence that you apparently worry just the right amount.

“Javi isn’t that type of man.” She murmurs. “He’s gruff, but kind. He’s wonderful.”

“You care about him.” She more than cares, that has always been fairly obvious to you from the time you’ve gotten to know her, but you never commented on it before.

“I do.” She sighs wistfully. “There was a time I imagined that he might be the one for me.” She admits quietly. “Even if we don’t share marks. But I know that is just a foolish dream.”

“Marks don’t have to determine your life,” you remind her, although you can’t say that you understand the affection for Javier specifically. Aside from being ludicrously sexy, you don’t quite get it. “People make their own decisions every day and are wonderfully happy with their lives.”

“I know.” She sighs and closes her eyes. “But that’s not possible in this case.”

"Nothing is impossible." That is something you have always believed in, but you try not to sound empty in your optimism. After all, life is hard as hell and sometimes things just don't go your way. But that doesn't mean good things can't happen.

“You are sweet.” She murmurs, squeezing your hand gently and then changing the subject. “Can I have some water?”

"Of course." Without hesitation, you hand her the glass you have handy on the nearby nightstand.

“Thank you.” She takes the glass and sits up to take a drink, the cuts and bruises on her body are raw and a contrast to her normally smooth and beautiful skin. “What do you think of him?” She asks after she has drunk her fill. “He’s wonderful, yes?”

"He is...opinionated." You state, trying for something diplomatic but having a feeling that you're falling far short.

She looks at you and the tiniest corner of her mouth inches up. “So he made a good impression on you?” Her tone says she knows otherwise and is amused by it.

"He's very sure of himself." That's your second try, but you know it's still not very good.

She gives as small laugh and then shuffles slightly. “I need to use the bathroom.” She admits quietly.

It's only a small effort to help her out of bed. Helena isn't incapable just a little woozy, but you steady her down the hall. It's apparent once you leave the room that Javier has, in fact, gone, and you hope like hell that Helena is right about him not overdoing it with the girls when he's upset. You'd rather stand in front of the man yourself and take a beating without fighting back than subject any of them to a single finger on them when they didn't want it.

Even though she didn’t need much help, she’s still tired and angry at herself for being that way. “This is ridiculous.” She hisses as you literally tuck her into bed.

“It will get less ridiculous every day.” Even though you’re not sure how many days it will take for her to feel better, or the degree of ‘better’ that each day will bring. You’ll be here for all of it.

“Will it?” She asks, her eyes veiled and guilty. “I don’t think it will.”

“It will.” Stalwart in your support, you sit down again and smooth out the surprisingly soft blanket on the guest bed. “It may not be quickly, and it will probably be hard, but it will get better.”

Helena knows that there will be a lot more she has to recover from that just the physical injuries. She still has to support her son and the only way she knows how to do that is by selling her body. “We will see.”

******

Since coming into this apartment you have felt nothing but frustrated and upset, so when you plop down on the living room couch again with your notebook in front of you to work on your article, you can't concentrate. There's crap strewn out on the coffee table, and while you had dutifully ignored anything that wasn't your before, now you're pissed at Javier.

His own sense of guilt had run him out of his own apartment. Irritating him even more when he sees the hurt in your eyes when you had accused him of not noticing you at the embassy. Leaving him once again, unable to clean shit up before he had hauled ass, an unfortunate result that he had to deal with until he returned. Hopefully you were telling the truth and you would keep your nose out of his shit.

The fact is, it is an accident at first. There is a stereo in the living room with a tape in the cassette deck and you just wanted to listen to some music quietly and try to clear your head.

The part that is your fault is that you didn’t shut off the tape when you heard Javier’s voice play out of the speakers.

“Listen.” Javier can see how nervous Helena is and the rasp of his hands stroking her arms comes through the recording. “I just want you to listen.” He tells her quietly. “Don’t ask questions. You smile at them. Take their money, and listen.”

Your blood freezes in your veins as you listen, and you shift forward on the couch with a frown etched on your face hoping that you’re hearing things incorrectly as the conversation goes on.

“Where are you going to be?” Helena asks, the pout evident in her voice. “I know I will have to shower, but I will need you to make me feel good after.”

Javi sighs softly. “We are booking a room at the hotel, making sure we can take photos of the sicarios and heads of the drug cartels as they come in.”

He put her up to this. He fucking put her up to this, the bastard. Whatever trouble Helena got into was at Javier fucking Peña’s request.

“Anyone I should go for?” Helena is eager to please, wanting to get as much information as she can to help him. Hoping that it will ease along her plea for a visa to the US.

“Don’t try to pick out someone in particular.” He warns. “Most of them are even more paranoid than the sicarios they have working for them.”

Fucking hell…he was even giving her directions. The sickening flip on your stomach deepens distinctly. How could she possibly still trust him after his instructions got her so hurt?

“Okay.” Helena agrees and there is the sound of a quick kiss. “I’m serious Helena. Don’t ask questions. Don’t let them think you know anything about them.”

Disbelief and anger flood your system, making you seethe as you sit and listen to Javier’s clearly concerned tone as he instructs Helena on how to collect information and her absolute willingness to go into danger based on blind affection.

Again there is another sigh. "You meet me when you’re done." Javi demands. "Two blocks over, when you leave, you come straight to me."

“Christ.” You mutter out loud, slamming your hand down in the cassette buttons to stop the horror from unfolding even further.

The doorknob rattles, a hissed curse and the sound of dropped keys is muted through the door. Javi doesn't exactly feel happy, but he's better now. A little less raw around the edges after spending a few hours with Freckles. He had seen Vanessa, reassuring himself that both women had come out of Medellín unscathed and told them about Helena. They had wanted to come back to the apartment with him, but he had promised he would let them over when she was up for more than an hour at a time.

The sick feeling in your stomach roils violently when you hear the door, and the faster you can get out of that living room the better. It isn’t running away, it isn’t fleeing, but it is certainly avoiding him. Avoiding him at all fucking costs while the only words you could possibly have will be the angry and screaming sort. For now all you do is retreat to your own guest room right next door to Helena, securely locking the door behind you. If he wants to speak to you — which he surely won’t — he can knock politely and get a denial. That’s all there is to it.

He's surprised to find the living room vacant when he opens the door. The lights are on, but no one is there. Glancing at the table, he tilts his head when he sees the tape player pushed slightly askew and he looks towards the closed bedroom door. Deciding that the best thing he can do is go to bed after the puts all that shit away.

******

The last time you talked to Javier was five days ago when you argued and he'd gone out the door in a huff. Since then you have made every effort to avoid him despite continuing to stay at his apartment, making sure that Helena is protected and cared for above all else.

It's been long enough that she's feeling physically better. While the mental scars may never completely heal, the best thing for them at this moment is good company. Today the apartment will be full of life and light for the first time in a whole damn week, as you clear the coffee table in Javier's living room and get out lunch things and a deck of cards for Freckles and Vanessa to come over and see their closest friend.

"I feel so much better after a shower." Helena admits with soft groan, running her fingers through her squeaky-clean curls, towel still wrapped around her nude body. While she had been cleaned up in the hospital and you had helped her for the past few days, this was the first time she had been able to linger in a shower and not worry about any cuts.

"Sometimes it's the little things that make us feel more human." You offer her a smile as she passes through the living room. "The girls should be here any minute. Do you want a cold drink?"

"I'd rather break into Javi's whiskey bottle." She admits with a small grin. She has been able to recover here a lot faster than she would have expected. Javi had been gone a lot, but she knows that he has been leaving her favorite fruits every morning for her. It's a sweet, and unnecessary gesture.

"Then that's what we'll do." Feeling no allegiance to the man whatsoever, you have no guilt opening that bottle for her benefit, and you wave her toward her room. "Pick out some clean clothes and I'll play bartender," you promise her.

“I’ll go get dressed.” She agrees, feeling better when she has that comfortable shirt on. She might have stolen it from Javier’s drawer in his bedroom, but it made her feel better.

It's really just bits of things that you assemble for lunch, but plates of cheese and fresh bread and juicy fruit and spicy seasoned meat are all piled high. And while you're sure that you could have attempted making arepas and the girls would all have been kind about it, you figured it was better to pop down to the stand on the street corner one block over and buy a stack of them from the cart owner. With everything out to pick on just as leisurely as you please, you plunk a deck of cards in the center and turn to mix cocktails while Helena gets dressed.

She pairs the shirt with a pair of shorts , looking in the mirror for only a second as she pulls her hair back, the bruises on her face garish shades of green and black. It still looks better than before so she counts herself lucky.

The buzzer goes off mere seconds after Helena emerges from her room, and you cross to the panel in the hallway to answer it. Freckles and Vanessa’s joyful voices are on the other end, and you buzz them up without hesitation. They deserve this time together, these three dear friends, and you’re grateful that they’re willing to let you stay and be a part of their liveliness in the process.

The knock on the door comes a few moments later since Javi’s apartment is on the second floor of the split-level building. Both of them still chattering happily when you open the door to let them in.

“It’s so good to see you.” There are hugs all around when you step back to let them inside, but Freckles and Vanessa look positively confounded to see you in Javier’s apartment.

“We didn’t expect to see you here.” Vanessa hums, and Freckles smirks slightly. “At least not now. In the future for sure.”

“Be…cause…all Americans in Bogotá know each other?” Clearly confused but shrugging it off, you wave them both into the apartment where Helena is emerging from her room and the living room table is set with food and drinks.

The attention turns to Helena and there are tearful hugs and caresses shared by the three women. “You poor thing.” Vanessa coos softly. “I was so worried until Javi called.” She confesses. “Bianca was killed, we had thought you-“ she chokes up and Freckles breaks in. “But you didn’t, you are here and as soon as you are able, we have decided that we are going to rent a house together.”

Bianca was killed. The words rattle through you as your three friends reunite, with the knowledge that one friend will never return home at all. It’s a sobering piece of knowledge, and one that ironically makes you reach for a glass of whiskey even faster than you would have otherwise.

Helena closes her eyes and tries not to cry. She knows too well that it could have happened with her, it honestly should have happened if it weren’t for Javi. “What about her friend?” She asks softly.

“Lorena is okay.” Freckles sits down on the couch beside Helena and takes her hand. “No one really got out without something happening.”

“We never should have gone to Medellín for that party.” She murmurs, although it wasn’t like they had much of a choice.

“What’s done is done.” Vanessa reminds her gently. “All we can do now is keep moving forward.”

“I’m glad we got out.” She admits, looking down at her hands. “Why do you want to rent a house?” She asks.

“We need a place to live that isn’t attached to all that.” Vanessa insists. She kisses your cheek when you hand out glasses but say nothing, not interrupting their conversation but helping them all relax.

“I think it will be good for us.” She admits after a moment. “And it would be good to be away from the brothel for the visa.”

"And it would be better to look for a job if our address is not a brothel," Freckles adds, shifting the weight of her glass between her hands.

“You want to get out?” Helena is surprised, since they both earned really well at the brothel.

“I want there to be the chance,” Freckles admits quietly, her eyes trained on the rug with guilt. “The money is good but…look at what has happened to all of us in the last few weeks.”

“Yeah.” Vanessa sighs softly. “Even if Javi can’t get you a visa, your son deserves to have his mother with him.”

“I’m not a miracle worker…” Sitting in one of the armchairs in the living room, you survey your three friends with nothing but the deepest affection. “But I’ll help however I can.”

“You have your own things to worry about.” Freckles sends you a mysterious smile. “How is your story coming?”

“It’s…something I wanted to talk to all of you about,” you admit, but shake it off. “Later, though.” Helena had already agreed to be interviewed for your article with a further hope of being granted a visa under far less dangerous circumstances. “I think we all deserve a little time to be with our friends.”

“Of course.” Vanessa smiles. “We will drink Javi’s booze and we brought some food.”

“There’s lots of food.” Helena had teased you gently about playing hostess, but only out of love.

“Oh?” Freckles snorts. “Have you been treated like royalty?” She reaches over and squeezes her hand, knowing that she deserves it.

“Fuck no.” You snort and shake your head. “I went shopping to make sure we had nice things today.”

The other two women eye you with a small smirk. “Javi doesn’t keep a lot in the apartment?” She asks, even though she can guess the answer. Food is an after thought to Javier Peña. Well below pussy, cigarette, whiskey.

“I didn’t even ask about his stuff.” Not that you’ve said more than six different words to him in the last few days. No. The less you see of or speak to that infuriating man, the better.

“Uh oh.” Vanessa and Freckles exchange a laugh, having discussed several times how they felt you and Javi would clash. “That doesn’t sound good.”

“I’m sorry.” Shifting in your seat, you shrug a little as though you aren’t still deep attracted to the bastard and dealing with a weirdly nagging guilty feeling in the hollow of your chest. “I know you guys are friends with him but Javier’s been nothing but an asshole to me.”

“You don’t need to be sorry.” Helena reaches for your hand. “But don’t hate him too much. He has a good heart. Truly.”

“If you say so.” Though it doesn’t make sense to you why they keep insisting you give Javier so much leeway.

“Well.” Freckles claps her hands together and changes the subject. “Why don’t we eat? I’m starving!”

“Absolutely!” Vanessa agrees, picking up on the tone, and all four of you dig in to the food that you’ve laid out for a lazy, social lunch.

There are crazy stories, jokes and laughter to be heard from the apartment. The four of you having fun and relaxing in a much needed get together. Helena forgets about her bruises and the other things that happened as she laughs at one of your stories and takes another sip of her drink.

Stories begin to roll out, about this and that and whatever, and soon the pack of cards is open and being dealt. It's not exactly a day for strip poker, but as the whiskey flows and the snack tidbits they're betting with become a pile in the middle of the table, and the group of friends somehow turn each winning hand into the ability to ask a question that all the others must answer on penalty of forfeiting some of their winnings.

Freckles rolls her eyes playfully as she huffs at Helena. “What kind of question is that?” She demands, even as she throws her cards back onto the pile. “You know the answer.” Helena snorts and wags her finger at her. “Then answer it.” Freckles laughs.

"I don't know the answer!" You remind them, pouting to insist that Helena reveals the identity of the very best lover she's ever had. The stories make you certain that it is most definitely not her son's father, but you have just enough whiskey in your system that you could not possibly guess who it will be. Most cohesive or logical thought has flown out the window like a particularly pretty bird.

She sighs and there is a guilty edge to the way her teeth work her lip between them. “I— for a woman….” She shrugs. “It’s you.” She admits, glancing back at you and holding up her hands. “I’m serious.”

"You don't have to say that just because I'm sitting here!" That can't possibly be true. Can it? Out of all the women in the world? "You're sweet to say it though, gorgeous."

“I knew she would not believe it.” Helena rolls her eyes and looks towards Vanessa. “It is true. She told me after the first time you fucked.”

“I guess I’m just eager to please.” Despite eating your fill, you definitely have a light head from the whiskey and end up giggling over the very idea that you are anyone’s best anything. It’s immensely flattering to say the least.

Freckles throws her head back and laughs. "The irony of this is just too much." She throws her arm around Helena. "You know this, right?"

“Irony of what?” You snort through another laugh. “That some chubby American girl is good in bed?”

Vanessa huffs at your description of yourself. "That is not nice to yourself." She tells you. "No, it's who her male best lover is."

You simply gloss over the protest of your self-description with the wave of a hand. “Unless it’s one of my brothers, I don’t see the irony.”

"Shhhhhhh." Freckles puts her finger to her lips and giggles. "She doesn't know."

“Don’t know what?” It feels like proof of your cluelessness that your head pops up and your brows knit in confusion, but you actually don’t know what the hell they’re talking about.

"They are so alike though." Helena sighs, almost mournfully, even though her heart would clench for both of you equally. "It's only fair that they share marks."

“Who does?” Just because you have mixed feelings about your own soulmate doesn’t mean that other people can’t want or be happy with theirs. You’re just not the girl who sat around twiddling your thumbs until your preordained match decided to come knocking.

"You." Vanessa giggles, biting her lip and leaning back so she can take another sip of her drink. "You and Javi." She coos. "Another great lover."

“Oh shut the fuck up.” The curse pours out in English and you sputter at all of them for a minute before switching back to Spanish. “You’re only saying that because I said he was rude.”

"Vanessa!" Freckles hisses, even though she is laughing because of the alcohol and the horror on her face. Helena pouts, still slightly upset that you don't believe her that you are a good lover. "It is true."

“Aren’t soulmates supposed to have an instant attraction or something?” But you did, you realize a moment later, and swallow the lump in your throat in horror. You’ve been attracted to Javier Peña since the second you saw him. Thinking he’s an insufferable egotist and finding him attractive are separate things.

"You don't find him attractive?" Helena is shocked, unable to imagine that. She's seen you looking at the one picture Javier has of himself in the apartment. It's a picture of him with his mother, before she got sick. He was twenty and it was before he had decided to grow a mustache.

“I mean…” Feeling like you’ve been caught in a trap, you squirm in your seat and shrug dramatically. “I guess? But it’s so much more about personality for me.”

"He is...complicated." She insists. "But he is not a bad guy."

“It’s not that I necessarily think he’s bad, it’s just that—” As easily as you had begun rambling, your mouth snaps shut again as you look between the other three women. Your friends. Your lovers. You lovers of several months at this point. And all of a sudden the clenching in your chest feels like betrayal instead of heartache. “How long have you known?”

All three women suddenly stop smiling, the humor slipping from their faces when they see how upset you are. "From the beginning." Helena admits quietly. "We have not said anything to either one of you until now."

“Why not?” It seems so important to have that piece of information about someone, and now you’re shifting in your seat all over again.

"Because both of you seem so..." Freckles shrugs. "Indifferent to the idea of a soulmate." They had all noticed that neither one of you seem particularly interested in finding that other person, despite them being so close.

“It still seems like something you should tell a person.” It’s not that you’re angry necessarily. You’re not. Just like you’re not excited or joyful at the fact. It’s more like…you’re frustrated that a piece of intimate knowledge about you yourself was kept from you by people you otherwise feel fairly close to.

“We were hoping you would find out naturally.” Vanessa adds. “You might not think so now, but you are Javi’s type.”

“You were hoping he’d just sweep me off my feet and we’d find out in a frenzy of torn clothes?” It’s such an unrealistic scenario to you. Starting with the very idea that a man as universally desired as Javier Peña would even look twice at you.

"We didn't know if you would meet at the embassy, or a bar, or even the brothel." Freckles snorts. "Although we had kind of hoped it would be at the brothel."

"You guys were just hoping to witness it for the gossip." It's the first wisp of a smile since they told you, and it cracks the frown on your face like a thin sheet of ice.

"I wanted to see the fireworks." Vanessa admits. "Because I know there will be some. You two are passionate people."

A barely perceptible puff of a huff comes from your lips, and you shrug while you settle back in your seat – along with the last long drink of whiskey from your glass. "Now instead of fucking, we might just kill each other instead."

“I think he would still fuck you.” This time with you and Javi in the apartment together has gone a long way to helping her put her feelings for Javi aside.

"Well, even if he did..." Your glass is empty, so you reach immediately for the bottle to pour yourself more. This is definitely more than a two-drink problem. "Even if he did decide he wasn't repulsed by me, we're constantly at each other's throats. It would never work."

“You haven’t seen the way he looks at you.” She murmurs softly.

"He doesn't look at me." Distance be damned, you shift forward and grab the whiskey bottle, pouring yourself another measure without guilt. "We don't see each other and we don't speak. Some fucking soulmates we are."

Helena snorts. “Every night, two-thirty on the dot, that man comes into my room.” She admits. “Sometimes I let him know I’m awake, but most of the time, I just pretend to be asleep.” She sighs softly. “He looks at you in that chair like you are a puzzle he can’t quite figure out. A mystery that is haunting him.” She nearly laughs, but it comes out breathy. “That’s what wakes you up when you fall asleep in that armchair, you know. It’s Javi coming into the room every night.”

"The only woman in the world who didn't instantly drop her clothes at his feet." It's only half a joke. Any of those times at the embassy, or outside the brothel, or any of those early days...you would have. You would have just been one of the many women mooning over him as he passed them by. You had been one of those women. Now you're so blinded by anger and frustration that you're basically hate-masturbating about him in the shower. Which is a whole other bag of worms that you aren't quite ready to open.

“He’s been turned down plenty of times.” Freckles snorts. “Hell, I turned him down to start.”

"You know what I mean," you mumble at them with a childish pout on your face.

“What happened to make you dislike him so much?” Vanessa asks, nosey about this hostility. Javi has never been overtly mean to any woman that she’s seen and she can’t imagine he would be to you.

"We got into some arguments when I first got here." Explaining what you heard on that tape -- while you were eavesdropping – feels too dirty. It makes you feel every bit as guilty of his bad opinion of you as he is of yours. "After basically the first day, we just haven't talked to each other."

“Emotions were high.” Freckles guesses, knowing that Javi has been feeling extremely guilty for what happened, even if all the girls were still going to go to Medellín even if he hadn’t known about it.

"What matters is that we got you home," you murmur, reaching over to gently touch Helena's arm and making sure she sees the gesture coming the whole time. She is understandably jumpy about sudden movements and touches right now.

“I’m here.” She murmurs. “I’m okay. You don’t need to worry about me anymore.”

“I’m always going to worry just a little bit.” She touches your hand briefly when you say it, just a gesture of understanding and affection, and you withdraw again so she doesn’t feel pinned down by the small gesture. And you realize in the same instant that despite continuing to drink you feel irrevocably sober. “That’s part of caring about my friends.”

“And we care about you.” Vanessa tells you seriously. “You have been the sweetest woman we have known outside of our own girls.”

“And you have all been just as sweet to me.” This one, rather large piece of information is the exception. This is the difference. The change. That they kept this from you. It isn’t that you want to run off into the sunset with your soulmate — that isn’t it at all. It’s that you….well, why do you care at all? The man is frustrating as all hell.

"I need to go to the bathroom." Helena announces and stands up, swaying slightly before waving off help and stumbling to the bathroom.

The remaining few of you are quiet for some time, contemplating your drinks or —Freckles and Vanessa’s preferred sitting position — cuddling on the couch. It isn’t until Helena has been gone maybe five minutes that you set your glass down and exhale slowly, like you’re gathering your strength. “You three really all think the world of him, don’t you?”

Vanessa hums, looking over at you with soft affection. "What we think doesn't really matter." She promises. "Maybe we fucked up by not telling you." She can admit that they were wrong, and that dropping that little fun fact wasn't the best idea when they've killed a bottle of Javi's whiskey. "You- we didn't want it to be strange for you. To know that we were all sleeping with your soulmate." She admits. "Some of it was selfishness. Most people don't like knowing the past of their person and we could lost both of you."

“Sex is different than love. They’re both important, but they’re different. Or at least not always intertwined.” They know that you feel that way. After all, you’re their client, too. And even with starting to see Alex, you hadn’t stopped. Not that you ever had any disillusion of loving Alex. Not for a second. “If I had even pretended to care who my soulmate slept with before me, I’d be an awful hypocrite.” You’re an awful hypocrite for caring who he loves before you too, you realize with a pang of guilt. But maybe it’s for the best that you distance yourself from the whole situation. “Can I ask…” you bite your lip. “Does he know?”

“We hadn’t breathed a word of it to either of you.” Freckles promises, shaking her head. “It wouldn’t be fair.”

“It isn’t fair that he doesn’t know now,” you point out quietly, unsure how the man in question will react to this news. If at all.

“Well, I guess it’s now just a matter of who tells him.” Vanessa sighs. She knows what you might not believe, the moment Javier Peña knows who his soulmate is, he will stop seeing them.

“I don’t think it would be particularly welcome coming from me.” And he also deserves an explanation of why they never told him, but you won’t insist they give him that. It’s up to the three of them and him. You just can’t imagine that coming out of the guest room long enough to term the man you’re soulmates after not speaking to him for the better part of five days will go over well.

“You’ve never been curious about the small tattoo on your inner thigh?” She asks curiously. “Why an elephant?”

“Curious?” You shrug as though you hadn’t obsessed over it when it appeared. “I guess? I just figured the person liked elephants.”

“His mother loved elephants.” She had asked him about it one time and he had reluctantly told her the story.

“There we go.” You don’t really know what else to say to that. Your own tattoo is small but distinct and probably makes no sense to anyone but you. “Mystery solved.”

Freckles sighs, not exactly pleased with your nonchalance. It’s not like she can make you care. Helena comes out of the bathroom and she groans, putting down her own drink. “My turn.” She hums, needing to use the bathroom too.

It becomes a line, much to everyone’s amusement, and four women parade one by one to the bathroom beside the apartment’s living room. The mood lightens a little purely based on a change of topic, and you, Freckles, and Vanessa put all your attention on Helena’s readiness to go home.

“It will be good to be in my bed.” Helena admits with a small smile. “That bed is comfortable, but it is not mine.”

“Couldn’t agree more,” you nod, feeling the same way about the other guest bed versus your own comfortably soft mattress at home.

“You do not have to stay.” Helena murmurs, motioning towards herself. “I can move around. I’ve decided to tell Javier I will be leaving in a few days.”

“I’ll leave when you’re ready to.” The decision to stay for her was easy and immediate and so is this. You’re not leaving her while she might still need help. “Unless he kicks me out when you tell him. Which would be fair.”

She snorts softly, sure that wouldn’t be the case, but you seem to think there are no redeeming qualities to Javier. “Well, thank you.”

“He’s not going to kick you out, bonita.” Freckles promises, leaning over to kiss your cheek. “You’ll see.”

It’s like he’s been summoned by the conversation. It’s probably the first time he’s been home before dark in a week. Only here because both Vanessa and Freckles weren’t available and he wasn’t feeling like paying anyone else for their time. He had decided to come home and be moody in his own damn apartment so you could just deal with it. He paid the goddamn rent here. His key slides easily and turns in the lock since it wasn’t secured and he opens the door to find the women he had been look for sitting on his couch with Helena and you.

“Speak of the devil.” Freckles hums, popping up from her seat to go over and greet Javi when his figure appears, looming in the hallway.

“Ladies.” He shoots you all an almost self-conscious grin, caught a little off guard to have all of them here together. The remnants of food, booze and cards are still scattered, and he chuckles. “Throwing a party?”

"Helena was finally feeling up to having some more company." Freckles tells him, moving across the room to give him a kiss by way of greeting. "We may have snitched a bottle of whiskey to celebrate with."

Javi turns his mouth towards hers, not shy about accepting and deepening the kiss from the beautiful woman. There’s an easy intimacy with all of them, except you, that allows it. “I can tell.” He hums, amused when Vanessa almost stumbles behind Freckles. “You’re all shit housed.”

"Not all of us." Vanessa huffs, but giggles at herself as she nudges your side. "Somebody got serious and sobered up."

His eyes slide over to you, dark and searching before he looks back at Freckles. “One of you has to be responsible.” He hums.

"I'm just less drunk than these three," you point out, accepting Vanessa's kiss to your cheek as a measure of some kind of reassurance. "I wouldn't call this sober."

Helena comes over and slides her arm around Javi’s waist, she’s more comfortable when she’s making the gesture right now and it’s comforting to feel him immediately hug her close. “They have been wonderful.”

"You just needed a little girl time." Freckles hugs Helena and Javier both before moving away from his side. She sways slightly but it's less than she did on the way back from the bathroom so that counts as a win in her book.

“That’s good.” Javi’s hands are gentle as he holds Helena. “You doing alright today?”

"A lot better." She leans into his touch but doesn't push it further like she usually would. She's too acutely aware of you standing just a few yards away. "Thank you, Javi."

“You’re welcome, sweetheart.” He still feels guilty, but at least the haunted gaze has finally fled her eyes.

"I think I'll..." she swallows, but looks up to find his watchful eyes on her. "I'll head home in a few more days."

“You don’t have to.” He murmurs softly, frowning at the idea of her leaving before she’s ready.

"I know." Helena places another kiss on his other cheek and pats his chest, like she's reassuring not only him but also herself. "I'm healing, and stronger every day. And I miss my son."

"I'll be out of your hair as soon as Helena is ready to go home again," you tell him. These few minutes are the first you've even spent in the room with him in days, let alone spoke to him, and now it feels even more awkward since you know what you are to each other.

Now that it's in your head, you can't help but wonder. Wonder what the hell it is they see in him that seems to be so wonderful.

And wonder if you could ever see it, too.

Javi wants to be an asshole, the harsh words that have passed between you sit like another weight in his belly. He hates when a beautiful woman is mad at him, even if he doesn’t show it. It chews him up and makes him doubt himself. “I’m sure you will be happy to go home.” He offers quietly, figuring that might be less offensive than anything else he might say.

He’s found your paper after asking Coleen some questions and has been reading your articles. You’re fucking talented and witty in your stories, even if you’ve been given shit to write about. He’s got to wonder why you are here, and what you will write about next.

"Sure." You nod vaguely, but the sick feeling in your stomach says that you're not entirely sure. And doubt only makes the sick feeling worsen. "I miss my landlady's dog."

Javi nods. “Right.” He looks around at the other women and sighs. “Come on ladies.” He jerks his head towards the door. “I’ll give you a ride home. You’re too drunk for me to let you get home on your own.”

______

Master Tags: @pixiedurango @chattychell @winter-fox-queen @lady-himbo @artsymaddie @princess76179 @paintballkid711 @missminkylove @pedrosbrat @ew-erin @sarahjkl82-blog @sharkbait77 @justanotherblonde23 @lv7867 @recklesswit @mylittlesenaar @f0rever15elf @gallowsjoker @steeevienicks @athalien @sherala007 @skvatnavle @thatpinkshirt @jaime1110 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @goodgriefitsawildworld @greeneyedblondie44 @littlemousedroid @harriedandharassed @churchill356 @ajathegreats-blog @haylzcyon   @beardsanddetectives @kirsteng42 @ladykatakuri @adancedivasmom @madiebear @tanzthompson @emilianamason @bigsdinger @xocalliexo @pedr0swh0r3 @avaleineandafryingpan @charlyrmv @avidreader73 @iceclaw101 @loveslide @elegantduckturtle @becsworld @julesonrecord @its-nebuleuse @itsrubberbisquit @mikeyswifie @guelyury @lizzie-cakes @for-a-longlongtime @vabeachazn @purplerain04 @weho2kcmo @madnessofadaydreamer

BFoW: @haileymorelikestupid @theorganasolo @missladym1981 @alexiamargot06

My Masterlist!

[sixxgurl26]

~Sleazy Sugar ~ 4 - Therapy Time

Masterlist

Pairing: Nikki Sixx x Layla Krane (OC)

Warnings: 18+, language, sexual themes

Word Count: 1.7K+

I’ll be honest, I wasn’t too sure about if I was happy or if I regretted walking out that night at The Whiskey. I had gone straight home, much to the judgmental looks and concerned comments from my parents when they saw what I was dressed in, but I made a case straight to my room, locking myself up to think without any distraction. I knew by the time I had reached home, it was most likely the same time they got off stage and Nikki would of found out I left and I’m sure, he was confused and probably pissed.

Kayla had confirmed this suspicion the next day when she forced herself into my home. Okay, forced is a strong word. My parents love Kayla, so they let her in and there she appeared in my room, with a few of her own words to say.

“So do you want to talk about what happened last night? Because it was kind of a dick move what you pulled. You didn’t even say shit to me other than to say you were sorry.” Her crossed arms in my doorframe bothered me and I gestured to a beanbag in my room. Yes, a beanbag, they are comfortable alright?

“Can you just like, sit? You are making me all nervous standing like that. And close the door, I don’t want them hearing.” She huffed, but she listened as she gently closed it, while seating herself down, arms still crossed. Though while sitting on a beanbag, much less menacing.

“I’m sorry Kay, I don't know what was going on last night. I don’t know what’s been going on at all in me. I just knew I had to leave, but I know that wasn’t the favorable choice.” My words started to trail off, before saying more softly, “What did Nikki say?” She looked up at me from her arms, her eyes softening at me, her arms not so tightly pushed together as they went limp.

“He kind of looked a little sad at first? Like confused, like you had just gone somewhere to get a drink or something. He didn’t say much to me though, he usually doesn’t.” She chuckled, as did I, cutting the tension. “But he did say he thought you would of liked the new songs they have been trying out and working through. I think you would of too, they fucking rocked.” It was quiet for a moment but the sound of her leaning back, her arms reaching to the wall to tap her fingers to brought me back.

“But in “rockstar” fashion, he just flirted with some other girl in the place and snorted some blow sooo… I guess he got over it?” My lips pursed together as I thought and I felt a pang in my chest. Damn, am I really letting this fucker get to me?

“Can I ask you Lay, why are you so against hanging out with us? Like, I get it if you don't wan’t to be with any of the guys, but genuinely, they are so much fun and they attract fun. Plus, they are so funny and Nikki honestly is really funny too, and he’s pretty smart. He’s always writing in this journal of his, probably the lyrics.” Kayla still tapping her fingertips to the wall, spaced out as she talked. I loved that about her, it didn’t take long for her to forget she's mad at me and just relax and go into her own world while still being in your own.

“He writes the lyrics you think?” I asked and she nodded slowly. “Yeah, he does. You really think Vince writes those? Hell no.” At first it was a small giggle, but after a moment we started to laugh loudly, the thought of Vince writing the lyrics made me mad with laughter and after a moment and it died down, I could see why she would enjoy this. I would enjoy making fun of Vince all the time if I was near him. There was no way that blonde man bimbo was writing those lyrics. “You didn’t answer me though.” 

“I mean, I don’t know I just feel like its not my thing. I’d rather be at home reading a book or at a coffee shop rather than a club.” Even as I said it, it felt like a lie, which was weird, because just awhile ago before I ever met them, it would of felt like the most true thing. Now it felt like the idea of fun was becoming the idea of the uncertainty of the night that these four men could bring, but I couldn’t admit something I still didn’t understand. Kayla laughed smugly before sitting up, her hair puffing up with her. “Maybe you can make yourself believe that lie, but you can’t make me believe it. That is such a boring existence like gag, come on. Also that Nikki, he does look fun to me if you know what I mean.” She wiggled her eye brows and I threw my throw pillow at her, her grabbing it instantly with a laugh. “Just admit you’ve thought of it!” She yelled and I instantly shushed her with a finger to my lips, a giggle still coming out though.

“Shut up! They can’t hear you. But do you want to know a secret?” Her eyes widened as she leaned in, waiting. I kept her in anticipation for a few moments, her waving her hands in a circle to speed me up and I sighed with a smile. “The first night we met we fucked.” Her mouth dropped open as she threw the pillow at me, screaming “SHUT UP!” Instantly, I jumped up and covered her mouth with my hand, us laughing as she pulled me to the ground, our vigorous laughs now only filling the room, smiles so wide it hurt our faces and we looked at each other, well she pretty much gawked at me with surprise. “I can’t believe it, I guess you aren’t so prissy after all.” She said. “Yeah well, I’m trying to not let it happen again. Even if I decide to come around again, it’s best if I just stay friends or acquaintances or whatever the hell they are. Like they are fun, I get it, but I can’t get caught up in that. Imagine that.” She moved to her side, picking at the carpet.

“Imagine if they got big though and you got to go along for the ride. You and Nikki, me and Tommy. That would be amazing.” I could practically see the hearts in her eyes and it worried me. She loved so hard and I didn’t know Tommy at all, what was he capable of to her? “I’m so glad you’re having fun Kay, just like, be careful okay? We still don’t really know these guys. And yeah, that would be fun, but that may just be a long shot.” She nodded slowly, not meeting my eyes. She knew I meant well, and I knew she wouldn’t listen, it was the friendship agreement we seemed to have.

“Well, that would be a cool long shot. They are dreamers for sure for trying. Maybe underneath all the fucking, partying, drinking, and snorting whatever they can get their hands on, they are just four people with a dream you know? And like, what’s wrong with that?” Nothing, there was nothing wrong with that. I did like the music and I admired Nikki’s passion for it. It was captivating being around that energy, I couldn’t lie.

“Can we have therapy time?” I asked, crawling up and into my bed. Kayla smiled wide, following me, sitting up in the bed by my head, playing with my hair. For years, we have done what we call “therapy time”. A non judgmental time to work through our thoughts while the other helped and I needed it.

“What are we working through today?” Kayla asked, her fingers pulling my hair causing a sense of relaxation wash over me.

“The times I’ve been around them, especially Nikki, I have felt different than my own self. Like this part of me that likes being a little reckless, not knowing whats going to happen, it feels like a release of control that I’m used to always needing. And I never know what he’s going to do, he is so unpredictable.  And I don’t want them to see the true me, the posh me, because I feel like they would just make fun of me and I want to explore that side of me but I feel like I just feel like, like, wrong?” I waved my fingers in a circle around each other as I talked, trying to talk clearly, but feeling like it was all coming out jumbled.

“Maybe don’t think about it so hard. You’re a control freak Lay, and its gotten you many great things like a great education and a great job, but maybe you need a little unpredictability. Maybe you want to feel not in control for once. And maybe its not that you don't want to show yourself, because maybe, and have you thought of this, you like this clean slate where you can be whoever you want to be.”

‘Whoever you want to be’…. Who do I want to be?

“Hmm…. you really should of been a therapist or a shrink or something.” She chuckled, pulling at my hair as I flicked her giggling. “Yeah but like, I love gossip and I would of gotten fired for telling some patient all the details of my other patients.” I nodded, that sounded about right.

It wasn’t long after Kayla made her exit, citing her need to go home to clean, which probably meant Tommy was coming over to her place, which would make sense if you’ve seen the dumpster, cockroach breeding ground they live in currently.

But long after she was gone, her words still swirled in my mind. Who did I want to be? Who did I like being when no one knew me and had no preconception of me? When no one knows who you are from work or school and have this idea made up of you that you have to be?

Would I still choose to be that girl? Or would I choose to be the one I become when I’m with them.

When I’m with Nikki.

Next Part

[for-fucks-sake-h]

At My Weakest - two

rated: m, mature | word count: 4.2k | story page  

“I wanna taste you again. Like a secret or a sin.”

  - Matthew Perryman Jones 

When Gianna stirred awake, she wasn’t surprised to find Harry laying beside her. What she was surprised about though was the absolute softness of his face. 

The lines of his cheekbone and jaw were still sharp, but his skin was completely smooth. The usual indent between his brows was nonexistent, and his hair was a beautiful curly mess. She found herself reaching out to smooth some stray curls back behind his ear, her fingertips just barely brushing his soft skin. 

He didn’t disappoint once he got her in his bed. Turns out his smug, cocky demeanor could be backed up, and backed up well. He wasn’t short on foreplay, he didn’t rush into it. If anything, he drew out the string of anticipation so ridiculously thin it snapped; until they were all hands and mouths and moans and pleasure. 

It was good. It was fun. It was a much needed distraction.

But it looked different in the daylight. 

What was passionate gasps and needy hands in the dimmed moonlight, was just a sloppy rebound fuck with a friend in the early morning daylight. 

Gianna was careful to slip out of bed, nakedly grabbing her borrowed sweater from the floor before tiptoeing to his bathroom. And when she returned, she was met with green eyes and tousled hair. 

“Thought you left.” His voice was even deeper than usual, the early morning rasp doing nothing to quell Gianna’s increasingly warming skin. “Didn’t think you were a hit and run kinda person.” 

Gianna breathed a soft laugh as she made her way over to him in just her sweater.

“No, but I should probably get my ass on the couch before your sister wakes up.” 

“Y’know she sleeps like the dead.” He watched her as he fiddled with the corner of his duvet, eyes tracing the curve of her hip where the sweater ended against her caramel skin. “Could give you one more before you go.”  

The lightness of his eyes looked iridescent in the morning light, especially in comparison to the blown out brown of Gianna’s staring back at him.  

He sat up just then, the dark emerald sheet slipping down his chest to rest casually across his bare hips. He was a sight with his unruly hair falling over his collar bones and his toned chest and stomach on full display. 

“In fact,” he started as he scooted down the bed until he was right in front of her, his feet meeting the ground as he pulled her closer between his thighs, “was thinking we could do this whenever you want.” 

Gianna’s hands found his bare shoulders, his skin still incredibly warm from sleep and as soft as it looked. 

“Is this my sweater?” Harry asked suddenly as he looked down to where he played with the knitted fabric at her hips, his hands slowly splaying out on Gianna’s bare thighs.  

“Gemma gave it to me last night,” she responded softly.  

“Hm. Anyway… could be a perfect fit for both of us,” Harry murmured, his head tilted up towards Gianna’s, his lips inches from hers. The innuendo was embedded in his tone and the look on his face, and even more blatantly obvious when the most subtle indent of a dimple teased its way onto his cheek.  

It would be too easy for Gianna to take him up on the offer, crawl back into bed with him and let him bring her over the edge as many times as he wanted; as many times as she wanted. But for as sexy and generous as he’d been, she knew it wasn’t the best idea and something she shouldn’t get used to.  

Gianna sighed with a gentle squeeze to his shoulder blade. “H…” 

“G,” Harry rebutted in a playful tone. 

“Probably not a good idea.”  

“I beg to differ. Think it’s a great idea. My best idea yet.”  

“Last night was fun,” Gianna offered gently. “I just don’t think we should make a habit out of it. I have a lot going on and I don’t want to drag you—”

“—Hey, say no more.”  

If Harry’s ego was bruised from the rejection, he didn’t show it.  

Instead, he pushed himself up from the bed as she took a step back, the sheet knowingly falling away from his body as he stood before her at his full height. They were nearly chest to chest, and it took everything inside Gianna to ignore the way her nipples pebbled beneath the soft fabric of her sweater.  

“The offer’s available if you ever want it.”  His lips curled around every word, only making his offer even more overwhelmingly enticing.   

He didn’t wait for a response. Instead, his chest brushed against her arm as he carelessly moved around her to head to the bathroom, completely naked, every inch of his body on display.  

If he felt Gianna’s eyes on him, he didn’t show it.   

A fresh steam of her reworn silk skirt and sheer button down blouse later, and the party was in full swing, guests arriving one after another to her parents home.  

Gianna was lucky to have arrived when she did, the distraction of guests doing her every favor to hold off the inevitable questions from her family. A quick comment that Steve was held up at work was as far into it as she could get before her mother was whisked away by one thing or another. Gianna wasn’t so worried about the lie as she was her delivery of said lie. 

The end of her relationship was the last thing she felt like discussing at her fathers 50th birthday celebration.  

The one thing she didn’t anticipate was the possibility of Steve showing up.  

She saw him as soon as he walked through the front door, his polo shirt and perfectly styled hair immediately catching her eye.  His eyes scanned the room in search of her, and it felt like her heart could literally drop out of her ass.  

Gianna excused herself from her fathers colleagues before making her way toward him, her blood boiling as her heart pounded in her chest.  

“What are you doing here?” She whispered harshly as she pulled him aside, eyes ablaze as she looked at him.  

“You haven’t been answering your phone.”  His response was so casual for someone who blew up their life together without a second thought.  

“Yeah you lost that privilege yesterday, Steve.”  

“Gianna, please. Let’s just talk about this.”  

“You need to leave.”  

“Gianna—”

“Y’alright?”  Gianna turned to look up at the sound of the intruder's voice, her eyes meeting Harry’s expressionless face immediately.  

Gianna was quick to reel in her emotions as well, instead smiling and greeting Harry and Gemma and their parents.  

“Hi guys! Yeah, yeah, all good. Steve was just leaving,” Gianna continued to smile despite the confused look on Harry and Gemma’s parents faces. “He’s gotta work.” 

Steve huffed. “You’re being ridiculous.”  

“Let’s go find Lisa!” Gemma suggested to her parents with a gentle guide on both of their backs.   

“Oh, she’s in the kitchen.” Gianna pointed in the direction of her mother and released a sigh when they headed that way.  

Gianna turned back to Steve the moment they were out of earshot. “You’re a real asshole, you know that?”  

Steve opened his mouth to reply, but Harry was quick to interject. “Think she told you to go.”  

Gianna watched the anger wash over Steve’s face as he turned to Harry.

“Shouldn’t take me telling you for you to listen,” Harry added with a disapproving shake of his head.

That confidence Harry exuded? Yeah, it came in handy in a wide array of situations.  

“Don’t make me kick you out of here,” Gianna told Steve. “I don’t want to cause a scene and embarrass my mum but I will if I have to.”  

Harry took the most subtle step closer. He really only sort of shifted his weight towards Gianna more, barely enough to even notice, but judging by Steve’s disgruntled face, he noticed.  

Gianna noticed too.  

“We’re going to talk about this later.”  Just the sound of Steve’s voice made Gianna’s heart plummet. It wasn’t supposed to be like this, but it was. 

She watched him turn around with an exasperated huff, a withheld breath escaping her when he disappeared through the front door.  

“Y’okay?”  

Gianna momentarily forgot Harry was still standing beside her.  “Yeah,” she nodded. “Gonna go hide for a bit and collect myself.”  

She didn’t wait for his response before she disappeared upstairs with tears welling in her eyes.  

Who did Steve think he was?  Just showing up at her parents home as if nothing happened? Something did happen. A lot of shit happened.  Many words were exchanged and the way Gianna left their home and didn’t look back said even more then her frustrated, broken words.  

Gianna didn’t know how long she hid in her childhood bathroom, but apparently it was long enough for someone to come looking for her when she heard the softest tap on the door.  

She wasn’t crying, that was a plus. So she braced herself for her mother to be undoubtedly on the other side of the door, but opened it slowly to find none other than Harry leaned up against the doorframe, his face closer than she would have expected.  

His chin was pointed down towards his chest, leaving him to look up at her through his lashes with his eyebrows raised high and the lines across his forehead even more prominent.  

“Just checking on you. Y’don’t have to come out yet if you don’t wanna.”  

Gianna leaned against the wall so that she was standing parallel to him, her body lining up perfectly with his, both of their arms crossed over their chests, the door to the bathroom propped open just enough for them to see each other.  

“Is my mum looking for me?”  

He pursed his lips with regret. “I did hear her say your name a little bit ago.”  

Gianna released a deep sigh as she let her eyes fall closed. “I can’t believe he just showed up here.”  

“Do you know what he wanted?”  

Gianna scoffed. “No clue, probably to torture me some more. As if yesterday wasn’t enough.”  

“He’s got some nerve,” Harry shook his head in disbelief. 

Gianna exhaled again. “I don’t even wanna be here and now I gotta go put a show on for everyone and pretend like everything’s fine.” 

Harry gave her a small, understanding smile. “Want me to go fall down the stairs as a distraction?” 

The tiniest shiver rolled down his spine when she smiled with a shake of her head. 

“I’ll just dive head first. They’ll be so distracted with my broken collar bone that you can sneak out the back,” he added with a completely straight face, intently fighting the twitch at the corner of his mouth. 

Gianna laughed softly as she pushed her elbow against his. “What if you mess up your face? I’ll never forgive myself.” 

“Oh yeah, you’re right. Never mind scratch that idea,” Harry replied quickly, the smile forming across his face regardless of his efforts. 

Gianna’s face softened after a moment, and Harry couldn’t be positive, but he was pretty sure her body moved a half an inch closer to his. 

“Thanks for stepping in with him,” she said sincerely, her big brown eyes steady on his. 

Harry swallowed discreetly, licking his lips in a force of habit. “Anytime,” he murmured, his eyes flicking across her face. 

“You didn’t have to,” Gianna replied mindlessly, her eyes falling across his face. 

“Know I didn’t.” Harry’s voice was soft, because as much as he didn’t want to admit it, he felt like his skin was on fire. 

She was so close. Her perfume invaded his senses the same way it did on the roof, it had seeped into his sheets and lingered on his skin that morning. It was all he could focus on, subconsciously pulling him closer to her. 

Although, maybe not totally subconscious at all. He knew he wanted her. He knew that after one night with her, that he wanted her again, as many times as she’d give herself to him.   

He could tell she wanted to kiss him. Fuck, he was willing her to just do it. It was like every fiber of his being was screaming for her to just connect their mouths, get lost in each other again. But he could tell she was having some sort of internal battle that held her back. 

“What are you thinking?” he asked softly, eyes peering into hers. 

She blinked back at him, the soft furrow of her brows somehow making her more attractive. He watched her mouth open and close, trying to find the words. 

“Tell me,” he murmured. 

He could feel her breath just barely brushing his lips as his eyes pulled down to the curve of her Cupid’s bow first, then the curve of her chest, before traveling the same path back again, ready to dive back into the deep brown of her eyes. 

They were cast down, the curl of her lashes on display instead, and at first Harry assumed in shame or disinterest. But they burned against his own mouth, as she took account of every curve of his lips. 

“G...” he tried once more, hoping that the movement of his lips spurred her on. 

She was about to say something, Harry could see it on every inch of her face, but then there were footsteps entering the room and the sound of her name being called that Gianna snapped back, pulling away from him so quickly that it felt like the wind had been knocked out of him. 

“Oh there you are,” Gemma said, relieved. “Your mum's going to go searching for you any minute, wanted to find you first.”

“Yeah, same,” Harry nodded as he tried to casually run a hand through the top of his hair and gently tuck a stray piece behind his ear. Only it didn’t feel casual at all, the only thing he felt was fidgety. “I’ll go distract her,” he added as he pushed his hands into the pockets of his black jeans and turned to leave. 

The truth was, he felt like he couldn’t breath and he wasn’t even quite sure why. Gianna was hard to read, she was really good at bottling things up which left him completely unsure where he stood. She told him she wasn’t interested, and he understood why. Things could get complicated and that was the last thing she needed in her life at the moment. But then she looked at him like that, and her eyes - reluctant but burning into his skin - said something completely different. 

He wasn’t going to push her, though.  She needed a friend and that was what he was going to be to her.  So he went to Lisa’s side and talked her ear off about a recent show he had watched on Discovery, and watched with a small smirk as Gianna’s mum pretended to be interested.  

Luckily, the rest of the party went on as normal. And even more so, Gianna and Harry didn’t have a moment alone together until the goodbyes. There was the slightest bit of hesitancy when they went to leave a kiss on each other's cheeks, something they and their families always did when parting ways.  

It was a blip of a moment really, but it was enough to have chills running across Gianna’s skin just from the barely there scruff of Harry’s cheek brushing hers. He gave a small, but reassuring smile when he pulled away, a soft squeeze of her arm just before he followed Gemma out the door. 

It was insane, but she couldn’t stop thinking about him the rest of the night. While she helped her parents clean up, while they talked her ear off about their upcoming travel plans, while she finally peeled herself away from them at nearly midnight, while she drove back to Gemma and Harry’s place, while she tiptoed inside and locked up behind her. 

“Hey,” Gemma called from where she was curled up on the couch in front of the tv. “Rest of the night go okay?” 

“Oh, yeah. The usual really.” Gianna sighed as she slipped her studded heels off, her limbs feeling heavy from the long day. 

“I’ll be out of your bedroom in a mo, this is almost over,” Gemma said half heartedly, eyes still trained on the tv. 

Gianna didn’t bother with a response, but instead wandered down the hallway to Gemma’s room to steal some clothes. She couldn’t help but glance at Harry’s bedroom door, the light peeking through the bottom like a temptation. 

She wondered what he was doing in there as she changed, if he heard her come in, if he could sense her in the proximity somehow.  Her fingertips prickled with curiosity and her mind tiptoed along the ledge of “what if” and “maybe” and “why not”.  

He offered.  All she had to do was accept.  

When she stepped out of Gemma’s room with an oversized white tee shirt and minty fresh teeth, she immediately noticed that Harry’s light was no longer illuminating the edges of his door, the room seemingly pitch black.  

Maybe that was a sign from the universe or something.  Maybe, she thought, she should just quit while she’s ahead.  

Her makeshift bed was all ready for her in the living room, Gemma having neatly arranged blankets and pillows on the couch where she was previously sitting.  That was one thing about both of the Style’s siblings, they never made you feel unwelcome. 

“Alright love, let me know if you need anything,” Gemma spoke as she placed her empty tea cup in the sink.  

“Thanks, Gems. Seriously. Don’t know what I’d do without you.”  

Gemma smiled warmly as she walked over, wrapping Gianna in a quick hug before heading for the hallway.  

“Oh,” she turned around quickly, “Harry spoke to Steve after we left.”  

Gianna’s heart stopped, bracing herself for whatever transpired between them.  “How bad was it?”  

“Eh,” Gemma shrugged, chuckling lightly as she continued. “Harry yelled a lot, but he’ll be gone for a few hours tomorrow morning so you can go get your stuff. We’ll go with you to help.”  

Gianna released a heavy sigh, overwhelmed with her friend's generosity. “You guys don’t have to do that.”  

“Too bad because we are,” Gemma quickly replied. “Harry told Steve he was coming with you anyway, just in case he decides to try anything like what went on today. Plus, the more hands means the faster you can get out of there.”  

Gianna gave her a pouty smile.  

“Don’t look at me like that,” Gemma laughed. “You would do the same for me.” 

“I would,” she agreed.  

“Besides, Harry’s the one that made it happen. He just told me the plan before he went to bed.”  Gemma smoothed down the baby hairs sticking up at the front of Gianna’s hairline, a small, sympathetic smile on her face. “I love you, get some sleep.”  

Gianna didn’t know what she did to deserve a friend like Gemma, but she was grateful every single day for whatever cosmic blip happened in the universe to force them together. 

“Love you,” Gianna murmured as she watched Gemma head for her room, finding herself standing completely still as she watched her bedroom door close softly at the end of the hall.  

And then she was left in silence with nothing but her thoughts. Which if anyone could hear inside her brain, they’d know they were anything but silent.  

She went to plop down on the couch, letting out a long, deep sigh as she sunk into the cushions.  

Harry didn’t need to put his neck out like that, but he did. His exact reasoning, Gianna wasn’t sure. But he appeared beside her at that party like it was second nature. He took it upon himself to find a way for her to safely get her things from her former home, and she was grateful. He was a good friend. She knew that already, but it was even more prominent now.  

She thought starting something with Harry would be harder on her than not. She thought she didn’t need the added stress.  But he never showed any indication that he would make anything stressful for her. If anything, the only thing he showed was the opposite.  

A distraction, an escape, a good time.   

That was all she needed right now.  And in a way, that was exactly what Harry was offering.  

So she pulled herself up from the couch with purpose, and padded down the hall to the door on the right with her heart beating wildly in her chest.  Her fingers brushed along the grain of wood, a last chance effort to back away with none the wiser.  

But she didn’t want to.  As ridiculous as it seemed, Harry made her feel something that she desperately needed at the moment.  

So she jumped.  

It was the softest tap, her knuckle meeting the wood so lightly she was positive he wouldn’t even hear it.  Her breath was shaky as she did it again, this time the tiniest bit harder, more sure.  

There was no sign of movement behind the door.  She waited with baited breath, tapping her knuckles a third time, squeezing her eyes closed, begging for Gemma not to hear.  

But nothing.  No sound, no movement, no Harry.  

Maybe he had snuck out at some point, while she was changing perhaps.  Or maybe he had decided she was right after all, that this - she - was too complicated for him right now.  

She drew one last small pattern on the door, her temple pressed against the framing before she dropped her hand and pulled away.  

And then in a moment of pure heart stopping relief, the door swung open and a large hand wrapped around her forearm, tugging her inside the dark room so quickly she felt lightheaded.  

Her back was pressed up against the wall beside the door as Harry eased it closed quietly.  Gianna caught her breath, her chest rising and falling sharply as she took him in.  He was in nothing but boxer briefs sitting low on his hips, his hair pulled up in a bun, his skin reflecting against the light of the muted tv in the corner of his room.  His bed was unmade, the spot he was previously occupying obvious, what with blankets thrown to the one corner and pillows propped up against the center of the headboard.  

Harry was looking at her expectantly when she turned her face back to him, but he didn’t say anything, eyes simply scanning the features of Gianna’s face.  

“How’d you know it was me?” Gianna murmured softly. 

“I didn’t.”  His tone was neutral, but his eyes were blazing, even in the darkness.  

She couldn’t pull her eyes from him, and all she could think about was taking the half a step needed to be pressed against his soft skin. 

“Hoped it was,” Harry added after a beat of silence, his eyes falling to her mouth. “Didn’t know, but hoped.” 

The words barely made their way from his lips before Gianna was taking the small step to connect their mouths.  And it was as if  Harry was waiting for it, because his hand immediately cupped her jaw as he took his own step, her back pressing against the wall once more.  

His lips were warm, and they tasted familiar this time. That thought surprised Gianna somehow - this wasn’t the first time, and although it was new, it was comforting in a way she wouldn’t be able to explain if she tried.  

He kissed her with his entire body, every inch of him pressed tightly against her, pinning her to the wall.  His tongue teased her bottom lip, and without second thought, she met him with her own, sparks shooting across her skin in the form of goosebumps and anticipation.  

The soft groan that escaped his throat as he pulled her even closer lit her on fire, his fingers digging harder into the soft curves of her hips.  

“Fuck, I want you,” Harry sighed breathlessly, his lips trailing across Gianna’s jaw and down her neck.  

She scratched her nails down his back, his body only pressing against hers more in response. “Want you too,” she whispered, like it was a confession, as if her actions hadn’t already exposed her.  

His lips burned against her throat, sucking deliberate kisses to her sensitive skin as his hands smoothed up and down her sides, gripping here, pulling there. She could feel him, hard and needy against her pelvis, and it made her stomach twist with desire. 

“This has to stay between us,” Gianna spoke gently up to the ceiling. “No one can know.”  

“Good,” Harry stamped a kiss to her jaw, pulling her face to his by the back of her neck, his lips brushing hers with his words. “Can be our secret.”  

And it was, he made sure of it.  No one would know what went on between them under the darkness of the night, hidden behind the walls of his room, disguised behind their eyes in the daylight.  

It would just be theirs, whatever it was, for as long as Harry could help it.  

But that’s the thing about secrets… they always find a way out.  

a/n: *nervous laughter* Heyyy guysss lol so! There we have it! It’s happening, it’s fine, everything’s fine. The biggest thanks to the best babes @andwhenshesays​ @oh-honey-styles​ @harrytheehottie​ @real-work-of-art​ @haute-romance-quotidienne​ @all-things-fic​ for the comments and laughs and support and encouragement - you guys are the real ones. I hope everyone enjoyed this one! Much more to come *more nervous laughter* lol thank you for reading! I hope you’ve had a great friday! xxx 

next | masterlist | ask

[atlabeth]

neighborly things - sokka x fem!reader

summary: reader can’t make things for shit. thankfully, she has a cute and crafty neighbor willing to help her. 

a/n: im so sorry lmao. i have requests and i have 2 series that havent been updated in like a month but sometimes i just need to write a stupid little oneshot to get back in the writing mood. i did this in an hour 

im not a screwdriver expert so dont come at me if some of this info is wrong lmao 

wc: 1.6k 

warning(s): some cursing but otherwise pure fluff. also i didnt proofread im SORRY im pretty sure they laugh grin and smile like 200 times 

-

“Dammit!” 

 Anyone unfortunate enough to have a place near you during this time would have heard the phrase on more than twenty occasions, and it wasn’t even noon yet. You had gotten the parts in the mail to put together a new dresser a couple days ago, and had finally decided to take on the task. You didn’t know if it was because you were inexperienced with furniture or just lacked basic comprehension skills, but it was proving to be no less than Herculean. 

 You threw the screwdriver at the wall and fell back to the floor as you let your arms sprawl out above you. You had been trying to screw in a part for no less than thirty minutes, and if a miracle didn’t happen right about now, you were going to lose your mind. 

Your head snapped towards the door when she heard a knock, and your brows creased. “God?” You muttered as you got up, wondering if you had actually thought a miracle into existence. 

 You weren’t greeted by a deity when you opened the door, but the man standing in front of you was pretty damn close. With ocean blue eyes, hair pulled back in a ponytail with shaved sides, and toned arms, he was a sight to behold. But you had no idea why he was in front of your door. 

 “Hey, are you okay?” He questioned, genuine concern in his tone. 

 “Um, yeah, why?” You were trying to rack your brain for any memory of this guy — because you knew you would remember him if you had seen him before — but to no avail. “Also, who are you and why are you here?”

 “Right,” he chuckled. “My name’s Sokka. I’m your neighbor; I live—” he gestured at the door just next to your place, “—over there. Moved in a couple weeks ago, so that’s probably why you don’t know me. I’ve just been hearing a lot of cursing and loud noises coming from your place, so I figured I would stop in and see what was going on.” 

 “Oh. That’s.. very considerate of you, Sokka. I’m just…” you sighed and chuckled at the ridiculousness of it all. “I’m just trying to put together a dresser, and it’s not going well at all. That latest sound you heard was the culmination of my rage. I threw a screwdriver at the wall.” 

 “Yeah, that’ll do it,” he laughed. “Listen. I don’t wanna intrude on you or anything, but I happen to be pretty good at putting things together. I had to do a lot of furniture construction when I first moved in, plus I’m the one all my friends call when they need help with putting anything together. I could probably help you with whatever’s troubling you.”  

 “Are you serious?” 

 “Oh, no. I just go door to door joking around with people, asking if they need help with their furniture, sometimes I ask if their refrigerator is running? It really gets a kick out of them.” 

 You rolled your eyes goodnaturedly and stepped aside so he could enter your apartment. “Thank you so much, Sokka. I’ve read the instructions a million times, I seriously don’t know what I’m doing wrong.” 

 He crouched down and picked up the manual, turning to a dog-eared page and skimming over the instructions. He pointed at the screwdriver you had thrown against the wall and glanced back at you. “Is that the one you’ve been using?” 

 You closed and locked the door behind him then walked over to the wall, picking up the unfortunate victim of your anger and spinning it in your hands. “Yeah, why?” 

 “Do you know what kind it is?” 

 “Um.. maybe? God, I don’t know. I think it’s a Phillip’s head?” 

 Sokka laughed and shook his head, holding up the manual so you could see it. “That’s where you’re going wrong. You need a Pozidriv for these screws — they’re similar enough that anyone can make a mistake.”

 You stared at Sokka in complete amazement — apparently, your savior lived next door, and he came in the form of a handsome guy with basic knowledge on putting furniture together. “You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me,” you said as you walked over and took the booklet from himl. You flipped through it a couple times and read over the part, shaking your head in disbelief. 

 “You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me!” you repeated, louder this time. “Do you know how long I’ve been trying to get that thing to- to work, to screw, to— whatever you call it?” 

 “It’s actually to—”

 “Thirty minutes!” You interrupted, earning a small chuckle from Sokka. “Thirty damn minutes that I have been trying to get that screw in, and it’s all because I was using the wrong screwdriver. Why would they make screwdrivers that are so similar but aren’t interchangeable?!” 

 He shrugged and held up his hands. “Don’t ask me — I don’t make the rules, I just follow them. But like I said; this dresser might fall apart if you keep using this thing. I actually have a Pozidriv back at my place, I can go get it and we can finish this up together.” 

 “God, that would be the biggest help,” you admitted. “But I don’t wanna take up your time — I don’t know how I would even repay you.” 

 “I’m doing this because I want to help you,” he said. “You don’t have to repay me. Think of it as… as a neighborly thing.” 

 “A neighborly thing?” you repeated with a laugh. “Well, if you’re offering, I’m definitely not going to refuse.” 

 “I am offering,” Sokka winked. “And unless you want to be at this for another three days, I think you should take that offer.” 

 You pretended to deliberate over it before letting out an exaggerated sigh. “I guess I’ll let you help me. I mean, really you should be thanking me for this brilliant opportunity to, um.. hone your skills.” 

 He laughed, a brilliant sound that made your heart sing, and nodded as he went back to the door. “Thank you so much for letting me put together this dresser. Truly, it’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

 “Then I’m happy to be of assistance.” 

 Sokka grinned then unlocked and opened the door. “I’ll be right back, then we can get started.”

 -

 Once he got back, the two of you got to work. The next three hours passed so quickly as you and Sokka talked about everything from the work you did to people in your lives (no girlfriend, thankfully), to exchanging stories — even the silence, though rare, was comfortable. 

 Sokka pushed the last drawer into its place then clapped his hands as he stood up, admiring the fruits of your labor. “And that’s it! We’re done.”

 “Wait, we’re done? Already?” You set down the instruction manual and stood up as well, backing up to Sokka’s position to see what he saw. “Wow, that looks.. that looks just like the picture. We are good at this! Well, you’re really good at this, I’m good at keeping you entertained. But still!” 

 You held your hand up for a high five and he laughed, but not without meeting it with a satisfying clap. 

 “It does look pretty good,” he admitted. “And not only do you have a brand new, fully functioning dresser, you also had the priceless experience of spending three hours with the neighbor you know nothing about.” 

 “That’s not true,” you countered. “I know that you’re really good at putting things together, you’re a genius when it comes to anything math or science, and you hate blueberries.” 

 Sokka snickered and brushed his hands off on his jeans. “That’s everything there is to know.” 

 “I dunno, Sokka. You seem like a pretty interesting guy.”

 “Really?”

 “Yeah. It’s not every day that someone offers to put together a whole dresser just because they feel bad.”

 “Well—” he tore off a blank part of the instruction manual and picked up a spare pen from the counter, then put it up against the wall as he scribbled something on it. Sokka put the pen down and handed the slip of paper to you with a smile. “If you ever need any more help with furniture, then call me.” 

 You could feel your cheeks heat up as you took the paper. Your fingers brushed ever so slightly as you took the slip of paper, and you decided to just go for it. You bit back a grin and tried to sound as innocuous as possible. “And if I want to get to know you beyond the blueberries?” 

 Sokka laughed and leaned against the doorframe. “Definitely call me.”  

 “Great.” 

 The two of you smiled at each other like idiots for way too long before a notification from his phone broke the silence. He jumped from the sudden noise and dug his phone out of his pocket, giving you an apologetic look. “Sorry, my sister just texted me and I gotta get over to her place.” Sokka started towards the door then paused and turned around. “I actually had a lot of fun doing this, though. I’ll see you around, yeah?” 

 “Yeah.” You knew you had that same smile on your face, but it just wouldn’t go away. His energy was contagious. “Definitely.” 

 “Great.” He winked at you one last time then left, closing the door behind him, and finally snapping you out of your spell. 

 You leaned against the dresser and stared at the slip of paper in your hands, committing the number to memory. 

 You were definitely going to take him up on that offer. 

-

perm tag list: @dv0412 @siriuslyslyslytherin​

[wizkiddx]

your song blurb

hello!! sorry ive been so inactive and I have got a number of req that I am trying to work through - I am sorry, please be as patient as you can with me. general life shit and all hasn't been ideal. I am aware I reaaallly need to update my master list and will get round to it when I can I promise ;)

also have lots of asks abt the t + z situation but all I have to say is im so very happy for them and hope people respect their privacy ;)

harryhollandxreader // friends --> lovers blurb

summary: harry never sings in front of you, until you need it

//////////////////////////

There were some things that Harry, even after being friends for years, kept close to his chest. The one that you always tried to catch him out on was his singing. For some unknown reason, he was super self conscious of it. Every time he was nonchalantly humming along to himself, all it took was for you to make a single sound, and he’d immediately lock his mouth shut. From those fleeting moments, you had thought he didn’t even sound half bad, hence where your frustrations drew.

Because whilst you, who sounded like a cat being tortured, would scream your lungs out - Harry, who wasn’t even that bad, refused to make a fool out of himself.

It was exactly what had happened this evening when you had let yourself into Tom’s house otherwise unannounced. It’d been years since you’d been given a spare key by Harry - when they were both away, you often ‘house-sat’ for Tom; plus, you spent most evenings there too because that was where your best mate was.

Tom had messaged on the group chat to say he would be out for the evening, and Haz was around his girlfriends tonight, meaning on arrival, you’d known it’d just be you and Harry. So once you heard the quiet tune of a song, that you couldn’t quite place yet, safe to say you were on stealth mode. Sliding your shoes off and wincing as the floorboards creaked a little, you slowly crept through the house to find your frizzy-haired friend.

Sure enough, as you made your way through the kitchen, you found him stood over the hob, stirring round a wooden spoon of a saucepan - presumably filled with pasta he’d promised to have ready for you. Pouting as you leaned on the doorframe and crossed your arms, marvelling at him. He was dressed just in grey joggers and his favourite pink hoodie, arms rolled up to his elbow as the poor boy slaved away at the stove.

You stayed silent, to what you now recognised as billy joel, only unable to stifle a giggle when he reached a particularly high note. Like a rabbit caught in headlights, he jumped around and yelled, eyes fiery and pointed at you.

“OH fuck off Y/n!!”

“Billy Joel, an old school choice.” You smirked, now walking into the room to greet him properly.

“How long have you been stalking on me?”

“It’s not stalking if the stalkee gave me the key.”

“I don’t think that’s admissible in court.” He deadpanned back, pouting for a couple more seconds before finally shooting you a wide grin. The boy held his arms out, welcoming you into a proper greeting hug. Happily reciprocating, you inhaled deeply with your face pressed into the crook of his shoulder.

“How was work?” He murmured, already guessing the answer correctly.

“Shit. Exhausting. Hell, you want any more adjectives?” Harry just snorted back as you leaned away from his warmth.

“Nah rule of three is quite enough. Did you never pay attention in GCSE english?”

“Fuck off you can’t even spell GCSE.”

That was always how your friendship had been; it had always been a piss-taking battle. You simply were one of the boys - or at least that’s what you thought. Said boys though (meaning Sam, Tom, Harrison, Tuwaine and even Paddy) disagreed. You didn’t know, or didn’t believe, that Harry did NOT treat you like one of the boys. He cared about you differently, too. Tom thought it didn’t stop there, that Harry did in fact love you.

And yes, you might’ve admitted to Harrison on one very, very drunken night that you had occasionally thought of Harry as something more than your sarky friend. He had been since sworn to silence, though Haz had in fact, told Tom - who only replied with an ‘i told you so’.

Even though everyone else saw your relationship as complicated, to you and Harry it was just simple. You were just the best of friends.

And that’s how the evening went. The two of you were just messing around as usual; after eating the tomatoey pasta creation Harry had tried, you both made a right mess of the washing up - water ending up coating the floor and maybe one of the walls too (Tom would never know). And just like usual, it ended with you sprawled out on one sofa, Harry mirroring you on the adjacent one.

It was love island season, which meant every night at 9 pm there was only one place on earth either of you would be. On your respective sofas, watching the most trashy tv in the world.

Tonight though, no matter how excited you were for the next instalment of who-likes-who, your day of work caught up with you. Not that you noticed, but you’d pretty much passed out as soon as the opening scenes started. There were only two minutes of silence before Harry registered something was up - typically, he was trying to make you shut up so he could actually hear the TV. To investigate, he jumped off the sofa and leaned over the couch, the sight making him pout.

He knew work had been super stressful recently; and he also knew that your insomnia had been coming back with a vengeance. So instead of treating you like ‘one of the boys’ and throwing things until you woke up - Harry used a different approach. He draped the blanket that hung off the side of the sofa over you, biting back a slight smile as you huffed in appreciation for the soft quilt. Then Harry left you alone, knowing you could do with every little bit of rest you could get.

That was all good until it reached the third set of adverts when Harry heard you huff and move about on the sofa. And then again and again. Then again with what sounded like a bit of whimper too.

Brows furrowed, he paused the TV and slowly got up, rounding the sofa to see you somewhat matching his expression. Your face was contorted in one of distress, and you kept thrashing your head from side to side of the pillow. It didn’t take a genius to work out; this was your nightmares rearing their ugly heads.

Harry just wanted to stop this for you. Although the two of you were never particularly ‘mushy’ or vulnerable with each other - he knew just how much you were suffering recently. So without much thought into it, Harry knelt down to sit on the floor, side leaning up against the sofa as he looked towards you. Trying to hush you, he ran his hand over your forehead and over the top of your hair, though it seemed to take little effect. And then, again entirely without hesitation, Harry started to softly sing.

It’s a little bit funny

This feeling inside

I’m not one of those who can easily hide

Why Elton John was the first that came to mind was a mystery to Harry - except maybe that the lyrics ran true a little.

And you can tell everybody

This is your song

It may be quite simple, but now that it’s done

I hope you don’t mind

I hope you don’t mind

That I put down in the words

How wonderful life is while you’re in the world

You’d always loved old 70s music, you were the one that had properly got you into all that stuff - the beatles, billy joel, elton, even a bit of springsteen. He owed half his music taste to your Spotify playlists, even if he’d never admit it to your face.

So excuse me forgetting

But these things I do

You see I’ve forgotten, if they’re green or they’re blue

Anyway the thing is, what I really mean

Yours are the sweetest eyes I’ve ever seen

With a final huff, you finally settled down, Harry swore he could see all the discomfort literally melting away from your face. It took a minute but your breath evened out, mumbling something incomprehensible as you curled up toward him on the edge of the sofa.

This wasn't the first time he’d sang to you in your sleep - and he sort of hoped it wouldn't be the last either.

feedback is really appreciated <3

harry taglist : @euphorichxlland @lovehollandy12 @pandaxnienke @msmimimerton @crossyourpeter @hallecarey1

[sleepysnk]

bye i love Niccolo, that is all.

Crashing Tides

Pairings: Niccolo x Fem!Reader

Warnings: none just fluff

"Niccolo wait up!"

"You're just slow! These waves aren't gonna surf themselves!"

(Y/N) rolled her eyes as she grabbed her surfboard off the wall it leaned on. The day was perfect, bright sun, warm air, not a cloud in the sky, and best of all, huge waves.

She ran towards the crashing waves, she noticed Niccolo was already hitting them.

"Come on (Y/N)! These waves aren't just for me!" he called.

She shook her head before running out to the water, she lied on her belly, paddling into the salty water which made her swimsuit stick to her skin.

Her eyes averted to the wave which approached her in the distance, it was pretty tall, but nothing she couldn't handle.

Just as the wave was about to hit she lifted herself onto her board, standing up and riding against the wave. The water splashed onto her legs, she looked at Niccolo who was smiling at her. Her cheeks grew hot seeing his smile, he was always so adorable.

Her eye grew wide as another wave approached and Niccolo wasn't paying attention.

"Niccolo!"

He turned, his face growing with shock and the wave knocked him off his board. (Y/N) jumped off hers and rushed over to him, she watched his board slide onto the beach.

She walked through the water which was up to her waist. "Niccolo?!" she yelled, looking around for him.

He was laying there limp.

(Y/N)'s eyes widened as she swam over to his body, she shook his arm. "Niccolo?! Shit!" she lifted his head, trying to see if he hit a rock or something.

His eyes opened and he started laughing. "Your face was priceless!" he said before sitting up, his feet touching the floor.

She rolled her eyes, smacking his arm. "What's wrong with you?! You scared the shit out of me," she replied, crossing her arms over her chest.

He chuckled, "It isn't the first time you've saved me."

Her cheeks grew hot, "Whatever! Come on.. I'm hungry," she said, walking towards the sandy edge of the beach.

He followed after her and slung his arm over her shoulder. "Your dad probably has something good, please tell me he made the shrimp."

She grabbed her board off the ground, wiping any sandy residue off of it. "He always has shrimp for you," she giggled.

Niccolo grabbed his own board and jogged behind her. "Say less! Mr.(L/N) coming in clutch," he said excitedly.

Her eyes wandered to his face. Niccolo looked so good right now. His blonde hair was wet from the water, a few droplets dripped at the end and a few strands stuck to his face. His tan skin glowed in the sunlight, the bracelets around his wrist were damp, and that shell necklace around his neck pressed into his skin.

He's totally a man now.

"Hello? You got a staring problem," he flicked her head, making her wince.

She hit his arm, "Stop! Sorry.." she mumbled.

He furrowed his brows, "You sure? (Y/N) you know I'm always here to help you.." he said, putting his hand on her shoulder.

Tingles came from his touch. "I'm fine.. don't worry Niccolo," she replied, smiling at him.

The two made their way to (Y/N)'s beach house, her dad worked as a surfboard maker. He also was a great chef, he cooked when the people around town wanted to have a cookout or bbq.

"Hey dad!" (Y/N) called.

Her dad emerged from the kitchen. "Oh hey! Glad your back, I needed to speak with you."

His eyes averted to Niccolo. "Hey Mr.(L/N)" he said, smiling at him.

"Niccolo! Good to see you, and please you don't gotta call me that. Your family," he replied, putting his hand onto his shoulder.

(Y/N) sat at the table, her stomach growled. She had been out all day surfing that she forgot to eat, her dad always got on her case about it saying it wasn't healthy for her to just leave on an empty stomach. She never listened though.

"So what are you two looking for?" her dad asked, leaning against the counter.

"The usual! Your shrimp always hit the spot," Niccolo replied.

Her dad smiled, "Sounds good, I'll go and whip it up. You want any (Y/N)?" he asked.

"Yeah sure," she replied, swinging her feet a bit.

"You two can head upstairs, it may be awhile."

Niccolo and (Y/N) looked at each other before going up the stairs to her room. Her dad trusted Niccolo, he knew he would never do anything to his daughter.

Pictures hung on the walls of (Y/N) and her family, as well as pictures of her and Niccolo as children. It was crazy how much time has passed since then.

"I heard there's gonna be some sick waves in the next few days," Niccolo said, following her into her room.

She placed a towel down on her bed. "Really? That's lame, it should have happened before summer ended."

He chuckled a bit, "Right? But I mean, you're gonna be here anyway. We can always surf after school," he replied, shrugging.

She looked on her phone. "You're right."

He plopped down next to her, he grabbed the phone out of her hands. "Nah we aren't sitting on our phones, let's chat." he said, laughing a bit.

She rolled her eyes, "Fine! What do you wanna talk about?" she asked, nodding her head.

His cheeks grew pink, it made her brows furrow.

"W-Well.. since we're both really close, I was wondering if you-"

"Guys! Food is ready!"

She looked at Niccolo, "Keep going," she said, smiling a bit.

He shook his head, "Nah, let's go eat. It can wait," he replied, standing up and heading to her door.

She was puzzled but she didn't question it, but she did have one question.

Why was he blushing?

-

"I'll see you tomorrow."

Niccolo smiled, leaning against the doorframe. "For sure! Maybe you can beat me to the tide," he replied.

She rolled her eyes, "Yeah whatever! Get out loser"

He put his hand over his chest dramatically. "Loser? Nah that's definitely you, but I'll see you tomorrow!" he said, exiting the front door of her house.

She shut it and smiled to herself. He was such a dork.

"(Y/N)? A word please?" her father called from the kitchen.

She nodded, heading to the kitchen. "What's up?"

"Have a seat," he replied, pointing at the chair in front of her.

She plopped down in the chair, her head cocking to the side wanting to know what her dad wanted to speak about.

"Your mom called"

Her eyes grew wide, she hadn't seen her mom in about a year or two. (Y/N)'s parents were divorced, they separated when she was 13, and the custody battle was absolute hell. In the end, she sided with her father and her mother wasn't the happiest. But if her daughter was happy, so was she. They spoke from time to time, but whenever she called her dad, it wasn't good.

"And? What did she want?" she asked, picking at her nails.

He sighed, "Your mom wants you to come home for the school year."

What?

"Wait.. what? Dad no, I don't wanna go with her. I'm already signed up for school here! It wouldn't make sense.. and what about Niccolo? I have zero friends where she lives," she said, her voice sounding upset.

Her father looked down, "I know sweetheart.. but with the custody battle I can't really say no. It's been awhile since you've seen her, I think it'll do you both some good."

She felt frustrated, why the hell did this have to happen now? The new school year was starting soon and she knew absolutely nobody where her mom lived. Her mom lived in the suburbs, almost three hours away.

"When is she coming to get me?" she asked.

He leaned back in his seat. "She'll be coming a week before the school year begins to pack up everything. I told her to give you more time, especially with Niccolo and all." he replied.

Her cheeks grew warm, her dad must have known about the way she felt towards Niccolo. It was almost blatantly obvious she liked her childhood best friend.

"Will I ever be able to visit or come home here?" she asked.

"Of course! Once the summer begins you'll come home here. Your mom and I both agreed on that," he said, putting his hand onto hers.

She breathed air out of her nose, she wasn't sure what else to say. She wanted to stay so bad, but she knew running from her mom wasn't a good idea and her dad would be pissed. She could tell her dad didn't want to send her away, but what else could he do?

"I'm gonna head upstairs.. night," she said before standing up and leaving the kitchen.

Her mind swirled around with different thoughts and questions. Who was she gonna be friends with? Would she even make friends? Would her mom make her stay? What about Niccolo? What was she going to do without him?

The thoughts alone made her stomach churn, she only had a week until her mom would come by to get her.

A week.

Seven days to spend with Niccolo.

She wanted to make it count.

-

The next day (Y/N) awoke to the sound of her dad's drill. He was probably making another surfboard or fixing one. He was always up early fixing things for people, it always woke her up too.

She looked out the window, seeing that the sky was overcast. She noticed the waves were a bit higher today and it was noticeably more windy than the previous days. Maybe today would be a good day to hit some waves with Niccolo.

Niccolo, shit.

How the hell was she supposed to tell Niccolo she was leaving?

Sighing, she rolled out of bed and made her way downstairs. The sound of the drill got louder as she approached the kitchen, her dad was outside in the backyard cutting up wood.

Her phone suddenly pinged, causing her to reach for it.

A message from Niccolo displayed on the screen.

Niccolo: the waves are calling to us (Y/N), you better get out here rn 👀

She smiled, typing a reply.

(Y/N): on my way! let me go tell my dad and get changed first

Niccolo: ooo getting changed? pls put on the pink one today 😐 you promised plus it looks nice on you

Her cheeks heated up from the message, Niccolo always complimented her whenever he could. Whether it be her trying on outfits or swimsuits, he was always her #1 fan.

She rolled her eyes before opening the back door, the warm humid air rushing onto her skin.

"Is it cool if I go surfing with Niccolo?" she asked, nodding her head.

Her dad looked up, "Yeah sure! Be careful though, those waves are pretty big today. I heard we're getting a storm later on," he replied, wiping the sweat from his brow.

She nodded and stepped back inside, closing the door. She rushed up the stairs to throw on her swimsuit, she put on the pink one so Niccolo wouldn't be 'salty' about her not putting it on.

She finished up and rushed out the door to meet Niccolo at their usual spot. She grabbed her surfboard and made her way there, the wind was blowing around, it made the sticky air a little less bearable.

"Finally! I've been waiting forever!"

She smiled, seeing how dramatic he could act always made her grin. "Sorry! I was in a rush," she replied, looking up at him.

He slung his arm around her shoulder. "Nah don't worry sugar, I was just messing with ya" he said.

She giggled a bit, the nickname he gave her made her cheeks feel warm. Something Niccolo was always able to make her do.

"Wait did I offend you? Shit.. I'm sorry," he said, looking at her.

She blinked, "What? No! I'm fine don't worry Niccolo," she laughed.

His blonde hair blew over his eyes, "You just seem out of the ordinary, that's all."

"No I'm fine.. don't worry about it," she said. "Come on! Let's go hit these waves, shall we?"

He grabbed his surfboard and jogged after her, she noticed the red flag blowing in the wind. It meant that people should stay out of the water, but Niccolo and (Y/N) never paid much attention. Nobody was there to stop them.

Stepping into the water, goosebumps formed onto her skin. It felt cold around her ankles, she lied down on her board and began to paddle in the water.

"I'm gonna ride all these waves and you're not gonna know what hit you," Niccolo said, paddling next to her.

She rolled her eyes, "Yeah okay! Try me," she smirked.

"Oh you already know I will."

She felt flustered, her eyes averted forward at the wave approaching in the distance. It had to be at least eight feet tall. Nothing she couldn't handle of course.

Seeing the wave getting closer, she stood up, balancing her weight on the board. The water splashed around her legs, soaking her swimsuit and making her shiver a bit. She looked over at Niccolo who was riding along the tide.

Her mind began to wander to her going with her mom, disappointment ran through her as the thoughts invaded her head. It made her upset, frustrated, sad.

"(Y/N)! There's a big one coming!" Niccolo called, looking towards her.

She looked back seeing the giant wave approaching, it had to be bigger than the last one. At least twelve feet high.

"I got this!" she yelled, hopping off her board and lying down on the base.

Niccolo didn't like how big the wave was, she's never rode big waves before and he sure as hell knew it wasn't a good idea. He paddled back to the beach, watching her in the distance.

"(Y/N)! Get back! It's too big!" he yelled.

She ignored him, she wanted to go all out. She had to show Niccolo what she could do before she left.

Standing up as the wave came up to her, she felt her feet slip and she fell into the water.

"Shit!"

Niccolo ran into the water, the wave crashed into the beach almost knocking him back. He saw her surfboard floating in the water heading towards the shore, it made him worried not seeing her on it.

"(Y/N)!" he yelled.

No response.

He saw her struggling in the water, it was deeper once you got further from the shore. She couldn't exactly stand in the water beyond the halfway point.

He lifted her up, her arms going around his neck. "Shit! Are you okay?" he asked, looking at her.

She coughed, spitting out the water that was in her mouth. "Yeah.."

Niccolo made his way back to shore with her around him. His grip on her waist was tight.

"Why the hell did you do that? You could have drowned," he said, placing her onto the ground.

She looked down at the ground. "It's nothing.." she replied. "I'll just go back inside."

She turned to grab her board, when suddenly Niccolo's hand went around her arm.

"No seriously.. what the fuck is going on with you? Something is clearly bothering you and I'm not leaving until you tell me," he said.

She sighed, dropping her board onto the sand. Her gaze averted towards the ground. "Niccolo.. my mom is making me come live with her during the school year. She called my dad and I'm leaving next week," she replied.

His eyes softened, "What? For real? Why? I thought she was fine with you staying with him," he said.

She sighed, "I guess she wants me home for a bit, but he did say during the summer I'm coming back." she said, crossing her arms over her chest.

Her gaze veered to the darkening clouds in the distance, she could faintly see the lightning flashing and the wind picking up.

"Well.. I guess we're gonna have to make it worth it," Niccolo said, smiling.

She furrowed her brows, "What do you mean?"

He chuckled, "We're going to make the last few days you're here fun, okay? You're my best friend (Y/N)... you deserve a good time before you go," he said, brushing his hand along her arm.

She felt tingles along her skin. "Well, I guess you're right. Plus I don't want to spend it all lonely," she giggled.

"Exactly! Now let's go chill! It's gonna storm anyway," he replied, taking her hand into his.

-

The rest of the day was so much fun. (Y/N) and Niccolo did so many things together, from making cookies, to (Y/N) doing his hair, watching movies, they had a blast together.

It was now night, the wind howled outside from the storm. Rain pounded against the roof and windows, it was quite late and (Y/N) wasn't sure how she'd get home.

"It's really coming down out there," Niccolo said, looking out the window.

Lightning flashed across the sky, lighting up the shoreline. The waves crashed onto the shore.

"I need to get back somehow," she said, looking at her phone.

Niccolo looked back at her. "Are you sure you want to? (Y/N) it's really bad out there," he said with concern in his voice.

She wasn't sure how to respond, her dad was cool with Niccolo, but if she stayed overnight would he be pissed? Her dad never trusted any guy besides Niccolo around her.

She decided to send a text to her dad.

(Y/N): hey uh.. idk if i can get back, it's really shitty outside.

Within seconds the grey bubbles popped up.

Dad: No worries. Niccolo's mom knows you're there, you can spend the night. I rather not have you coming out in the middle of a storm. Stay safe. I love you. No funny business either.

She looked over at him. "Well look's like my dad is fine with me spending the night," she said, grinning at him.

Niccolo seemed surprised, but nonetheless he was excited. "Alright bet! You wanna head upstairs? We can chill and do whatever," he asked.

She nodded, "I'd love that."

She followed him up the stairs to his room, she remembered this room all too well. Her and Niccolo spent so many days and nights together in there, even now as a teenager she still felt that nostalgia from it.

"I don't have any clothes.." she muttered to herself.

Niccolo turned back, "Oh, here! Put this on," he said, searching through his drawers for a shirt and shorts for her to wear.

He tossed her a grey shirt and some black shorts. "Thanks.." she said, smiling at him.

He felt his stomach do flips at the sight of her smile. "Yeah no problem.. it's not like you've never borrowed my stuff before," he replied, running his fingers through his blonde hair.

She felt her cheeks growing hot again, curse this boy and what he does to her. Exiting the room, she found herself in his bathroom. She peeled off the swimsuit which was damp from the surfing they did together, she threw on his shirt and shorts and tossed the swimsuit near the edge of the bathtub to dry.

Niccolo laid on his bed, staring at the screen of his phone. His eyes veered to the door where (Y/N) stood, his eyes taking in the sight of her in his clothes. It was something he liked, she was always so cute to him.

"You wanna come lay down?" he asked, patting the side of his bed.

She smiled, "Of course!"

She climbed onto his bed, her head lying against the pillows. Niccolo's face dusted pink, they hadn't been this close in a bed since they were kids.

"So uh.. you ready to move?" he asked, trying to ease the nervousness.

She sighed, "Not really.. I don't know anyone where my mom lives," she replied.

He chuckled a bit, "I'm always going to be here for you, don't be afraid to send me a text during class. You already know I'll respond, especially if it's you."

Her heart swelled, "Please! I'll need it," she giggled.

He smiled, opening his arms for her. "I'll need plenty of hugs."

She giggled and leaned into his embrace, she felt his warmth surrounding her. It felt.. good. It wasn't weird for the two to be like this, she had spent many nights in his embrace when things got hard with her parents. Niccolo was always the one to comfort her and he had no issue with that, whenever she needed him, he was there.

Her eyes felt heavy and eventually the two dozed off into a deep sleep.

-

The next six days were absolutely enjoyable. (Y/N) and Niccolo spent every single day together, whether it be surfing or simply spending time at their houses, they made the last few days together memorable. They took many photos and polaroids together.

Here they sat by the shore, watching the moon rise in the distance. The sun was now gone behind the clouds, the sky was painted with dark hues of blue and black.

(Y/N) wore his sweater, they just finished surfing not too long ago. Her hair was slightly damp.

"Can't believe this is really it.." Niccolo said, looking towards her.

She lied her head onto his shoulder. "It isn't forever Niccolo.. we have facetime and texting," she said.

"I know.. it's just so hard to believe my best friend won't be here for nine months," he replied.

She sighed, "It is hard to believe but.. I'll be home soon."

Her eyes looked at the moon in the horizon, the tide slowly came towards the shoreline, making the sand wet. The atmosphere was relaxing, the air was salty and warm, the tide was calm, and the moon was out without a cloud in the sky. It lit up the ocean before her.

She couldn't help but reminisce. She spent her whole life here, she loved the beach. She spent her whole life with Niccolo, he was so important to her.

Niccolo was her first friend, they met when they were toddlers. (Y/N)'s family was very close to Niccolo's, they would have sleepovers, celebrate birthdays, make sandcastles, and swim until the sun set.

Most importantly, Niccolo was the one who taught her how to surf. She remembered all the times she would see him hitting the waves, and she wanted to be just like him. Even as a little kid she had a desire to show him that she could do it.

There were many fails and tears of frustration shed, but eventually she did it. Niccolo was so happy to see her ride her first wave, he felt so proud.

There was good moments, but there were also bad ones. When her parents would fight until all hours of the night she found herself running to Niccolo almost every night. She spent many nights crying into his shoulder, in which he would comfort her.

It felt so long ago.

When she turned fourteen, that's when she found her feelings towards Niccolo were more than just being best friends. It wouldn't be an overstatement to say she loved him, her feelings never fizzled out and she always found herself being pulled back into him.

He could never know though, she didn't want him to freak out.

A sudden ping brought her out of her thoughts. She grabbed her phone and noticed the text from her dad.

"Gotta go?" Niccolo asked, looking at her phone screen.

She sighed, "Yeah.. it's late anyway," she replied.

She stood up with Niccolo, she dusted off any sand that was on her shorts.

"Wait."

She looked at Niccolo, cocking her head to the side. "What's up?" she asked.

Even in the darkness she could see his face turning pink. "I-I.. I've wanted to tell you this for such a long time, with you leaving.. I figured it'd be a good time to tell you," he replied.

She blinked, "What is it?"

"(Y/N).. I-I.. really, really, like you. Like.. I can't even explain what you do to me, you're so beautiful and having you as my best friend has been an absolute blessing. I like you so fucking much," he said.

Her eyes grew wide, hearing his confession made her heart swell and her cheeks heat up.

"Niccolo.. I-"

"I get it if you don't feel the same," he said, holding her hand. "I just... I can't get over you."

She smiled, "No Niccolo, I like you too. I like you more than a best friend," she replied.

He seemed surprised, "What? No, you're lying! You don't at all-"

"Niccolo shut up"

That's when her lips pressed onto his, at first he didn't move, but then he began to kiss her back. His hands found their way to her waist, bringing her body against his own. She put her arms around his neck, tugging at the blonde strands of his hair.

The kiss they shared was passionate, it was full of love and emotion from the hidden feelings they've had for so long.

They stood there for awhile, just kissing each other and embracing their skin.

He broke the kiss, hearing her phone. "Shit.."

She looked at her phone seeing another text from her dad.

Dad: Where are you?? Come home please

She sighed, "I gotta get going," she said, looking up at Niccolo.

He cupped her cheek, "Let me walk you home, for the last time." he said.

She smiled, taking his hand and walking with him to her house. She felt her heart tug a bit, realizing this was going to be the last time he'll walk her home for a long time.

She stood in front of the door. "I guess I'll see you next summer," she said, looking up at him.

He smiled, "I guess so.. but, just know I'll be waiting for you, (Y/N). That will never change," he replied.

He kissed her lips one last time. "Goodnight"

"Goodnight"

-

The next nine months were difficult, but manageable for (Y/N). She was home sick for a long time, she had to get used to a new environment and she had to make some new friends in the process. It was hard, but she did manage. Niccolo kept her going, he assured her summer would arrive soon and it'll all be over.

He was right.

It was now the end of May, she graduated from high school and it was now summer break. She was excited to come home to her dad, they didn't have a lot of time to speak, but he was happy to have her back home.

Stepping into the house she hadn't seen since August, she was greeted with her dad.

"Welcome back!" he said, hugging her.

She smiled, "Hey dad.. uh, mom told me to say bye," she replied, looking around her home.

He nodded, "Alright.. well, I made some changes to the house. I don't have to work outside anymore," he said.

She shook her head, "Well that's good."

He looked at her, "Niccolo has been looking for you. He stopped by earlier, you should go see him. I'm sure you both are eager to see one another," he said.

She felt a smile grow onto her face. "I should go see him.. I'll be back soon!" she said, opening the door to her house.

"Be safe!" her dad called.

She smiled before exiting her house. She missed the warm salty air, it had been so long since she had seen the ocean. That's not the part she missed the most though, it was Niccolo who she wanted to see the most.

She made her way to the shore, she knew she would probably find him there.

Niccolo sat on the sand, he stared at the ocean before him. The waves crashed onto the shoreline near his feet, his mind wandering to (Y/N) and where she was. He missed her dearly, he just wanted to see her.

"The ocean is a really great sight, huh?"

He turned his head to see (Y/N) standing there. "(Y/N)!" he yelled, standing up and hugging her tightly.

She almost fell to the ground. "Hi baby," she said with excitement in her a voice. A smile on her features.

He kissed her, God did he miss her lips. "It's so good to see you again," he cupped her cheek. "We need to catch up."

She smiled, running her fingers through her hair. "We have all day handsome," she replied.

He lifted her off the ground, a yelp escaping her mouth. "You best have a fresh pair of clothes," he smirked.

[eurynome827]

Watch Out For The Quiet Ones

For @the-ss-horniest-book-club​ Drunk Drabbles, and this delicious anon prompt - I hope it’s worth the wait!

Pairing: College AU Bucky x Reader

Word Count: 1,744 !!!! (officially my longest fic ever!)

Warnings: 18+!! Dirty talk, language, consumption of alcohol, some hurt feelings, masturbation, use of a sex toy, sex with a condom, maybe a tiny smidge of sub!Bucky.

A/N: This is filth. I don’t know what’s come over me.

*

Bucky Barnes wasn't a complete waste of your time.

He was actually a good friend. Unlikely as your friendship was, you still cared enough about him to not tell him to his face what a terrible lay he was.

Tequila was what got you into that situation, and it was becoming an unfortunate pattern.

You threw back another shot and slammed the glass on the counter, giggling with your roommate and best friend. Her boyfriend Steve was Bucky's best friend, which is how a bookworm like you ended up hanging out with the football players in the first place. Thrown together as the plus ones of a couple, you and Bucky found yourself hanging out often, but there was never a spark until a few weeks ago when you found yourself under Bucky in his bed upstairs in this very frat house having surprisingly lackluster sex.

At least he was pretty to look at it, and he didn't want to stop until he got you off so you faked a respectable orgasm, rolled out of the bed and went straight to your own dorm.

Hearing your name from the other room pulled you from your thoughts, and you stepped closer to the door. You were shocked to hear Bucky describing your little encounter - a LOT more favorably than you would. His audience of male friends certainly seemed to be enjoying the story.

"She had a really good time," he drawled, and the unmistakable sound of hands slapping in high fives finally pulled you out of hiding.

"I had a good time? That's news to me."

Bucky whirled to see you, staring him down with your arms crossed. "Uh, hey," he rubbed the back of his neck with his hand and at least had the decency to look ashamed.

"I should go find all the other girls you've slept with and start a club. The 'I Faked An Orgasm With Bucky Barnes Club'."

Steve choked on his beer.

Bucky spluttered, shocked and embarrassed. "That's fucked up!"

"No, what's fucked up is you telling our friends that we had sex and leaving out how terrible it was. Bucky Barnes, you couldn't get me off with an instruction manual and a private tutor."

You whirled around and left immediately, ignoring your friends calling your name behind you. Stomping on the sidewalk all the way back to your dorm, you crawled under the blanket completely and let your anger keep the hurt from growing.

How fucking dare he.

•

A knock on your door a few hours later dragged you from bed, and you opened up to find a sheepish looking Bucky.

"Hey."

You sighed and leaned against the doorframe. "Hi."

"Can I come in?"

You moved aside so he could pass, closing the door and turning to see him sitting on your roommate's bed. You sat on your own, silently watching him worry his fingers together.

"What do you want, Buck?" Your voice was softer than you expected, and a tiny bit of that hurt you were trying to muscle away crept in. He looked up at you.

"I'm sorry, about..." He trailed off, and you nodded.

"Okay."

"I shouldn't have told anyone. You're a good friend."

"So are you, Bucky."

He shrugged, shaking his head a little. He bit his lip and looked at you anxiously.

"Is there something else?" You had never seen him this unsure of himself.

"And I'm also sorry you didn't...have a good time." He was quiet and the words settled in your chest, and then he looked into your eyes. "I did."

"Oh, Bucky, I'm sorry I said what I said. I was hurt, and I lashed out."

"But, you meant what you said, right?"

You looked at the floor, and shrugged a little before facing him again. "Yes."

"Then show me."

Confusion covered your face. "Show you what?"

He moved to sit next to you, and suddenly there was tension in the room. "Show me the instruction manual. Be my private tutor."

You smiled before you could stop yourself. "You realize I can only teach you what works for me, right?"

He moved closer to you, his voice lowering in pitch. "That's all I'm interested in right now."

Drawing in a quick breath, you stared back into his blue eyes, feeling dizzy. "Wow, Buck. This is already so much better than last time."

Then he kissed you, cradling your face in his hands, and you had to pull away and shake your head to get a hold of yourself.

"Okay, if we're going to do this, we're going to do this right. A real lesson." You stood and pulled your shirt over your head, enjoying his eyes on you. Then you opened your bedside drawer, feeling bold, and started throwing items on the bed next to him: a bottle of lube, your vibrator, several condoms....

"Whoa! What...."

"Be a good student, now." You kissed his forehead before you pulled off your pajama pants and settled on the bed, your back to the wall and legs open, hands resting on your raised knees.

Bucky swallowed thickly, and nodded. "Okay. Um, this is all," he motioned to your naughty supplies, "unexpected."

"That's part of your lesson, Barnes. Watch out for the quiet ones."

You winked at him, and his eyes grew wide as you slipped your fingers inside your panties. You hummed, stroking softly, and brought your other hand up to caress your breast through your bra. "Feels good, see how nice that is?"

"Fuck..." He groaned, palming over himself. "You're....holy shit, you're so hot."

"Thanks, Bucky," you giggled, enjoying how your little show was clearly affecting him. "I bet you want to see how wet I am."

"Oh fuck yes please." He stared at you, biting his lip. Kneeling on the bed, you removed the rest of your clothing, making sure that his eyes followed your every move. Moving back to lean against the wall and open up to his gaze again, you gave your next piece of instruction.

"Watch me. Watch how I react when I do this," you swiped your finger slowly through your folds, gathering your wetness, "and when I do this," you rubbed over your clit gently, spreading your slick and closing your eyes, breathing in deep. "Can you imagine touching me like this? You see what I need?" You opened your eyes to see Bucky staring, hungry and open-mouthed, rubbing at himself through his pants. "God yes, honey, I'm watching. I want to make you feel good."

"I think you will. You're being a very good student." Bucky whimpered, actually fucking whimpered, and licked his lips at how wet your fingers were. You grabbed your vibrator and the lube, getting it ready and switching it on, and when your body shuddered in reaction to the tip on your clit, he growled and stood up fast.

"I'm sorry, I need, I have to..." He was besides himself, eyes wide and desperate and you gasped both at the state of him and what you were doing to yourself.

"Yes, baby, take everything off, show me how pretty you are," your voice shook. "I want to see you, I want to watch you touch yourself."

He undressed clumsily, throwing everything on the floor, and seeing him in front of you in the dim light of your room nearly took your breath away. He was so hard, and he was stunning. Closing his eyes and wrapping a hand around his cock, he stroked himself a few times before letting his wild eyes settle on you again. "I'm afraid I'm gonna cum before I even touch you. Please, I need you."

You tossed the vibrator onto the nightstand and reached a hand toward him. "Come here."

He joined you eagerly, his lips on yours and his hard cock pressing against your hip. You held his hand and brought it between your legs. "Now let's see what you learned."

Bucky pulled away from your lips to look down and watch himself pleasure you, trying to repeat the movements you made with your fingers and your toy.

"That's right, oh yes ...so good. So good, Bucky.... please, Bucky..."

Finally a little of his swagger crept back into his voice. "Please what, doll? Am I making you feel good?"

"Yeah...yes..." Your breathing was staggered, he was getting you so close. "Think you can do the same thing with your tongue, Buck?"

"Oh fuck, yes," he growled, moving down your body and licking you purposefully, repeating what he knew you liked. Bucky had been paying close attention to the lesson.

You gripped his hair and rolled your hips into his face and he moaned, and then you completely lost yourself - calling his name and pulling his hair. When he moved to be face to face with you again, you giggled at his expression of triumph. "Look at you."

"I'm looking at you," he said, softly. He kissed you and whispered, "thank you."

You hummed against his lips, and pushed on his chest under you had him on his back under you. "You're welcome, but we're just getting started."

Straddling him and reaching for a condom, you ripped open the package and rolled it down his length, reveling in the shiver of his body when you touched him.

"I have never been this hard in my entire life," he looked up at you, holding your hips as you lowered yourself into him, "you're amazing. Incredible."

You moaned and rocked back and forth, bringing his hand to where you were joined with him and giving him a little wink as he started playing with your clit like you'd taught him. "And you are an excellent student, Bucky."

It didn't last long, but it didn't matter. The look on his face and the moan of your name when he came was enough to push you over a second time. You fell onto his chest, out of breath, and he rolled you over so he could pull out and throw away the condom. For a second you thought he would just get dressed and leave, and you were surprised at how much that thought bothered you. But Bucky got back under your blanket with you, holding you close.

"Do you..." You bit your lip, nuzzling into his neck. "Do you want to stay?"

He squeezed his arms tighter around you, and you giggled. "Yeah, is that okay?"

"Of course. I want you to."

"Good. I want more lessons."

[phoenixblack89]

Blank Canvas

Travis is definitely one of my favourite characters the gorgeously talented Mr. Reedus has portrayed. 

TAGS: @fandomsaremykryponite @autocon23 @lilythemadqueen @darylsgirl @writingdeadangel

WARNING: Just pure filthy smut 

The incessant beeping of your alarm clock woke you as you tried in vain to stay under the covers of your bed. Your head throbbed in pain, a lecture about hangovers and the dangers of drinking by your mother echoing in your memory.

It was all Derek's fault.

You would have been quite happy to have the loft to yourself last night while your three roommates went drinking but no. He insisted that you come along to make sure Travis didn't have another 'discussion with gravity' as he liked to call them. Needless to say all of you ended up slightly more than drunk, hell Travis was literally dragged into his room out cold last night.

The only thing making you feel better was the fact he too would be horridly hungover as you at the lecture.

"Y/N? You awake?"

"Just..." You croakily replied, throwing your pillow over your shoulder.

The door creaked loudly as Travis opened it and slowly, holding his head, made his way to you and climbed under the covers.

"Can we skip today?"

"Travis sweetums, you know we can't." You groan, turning and putting your head on his chest lightly. The crush you harbored on the quieter, shyer roommate was nothing secret. Both Jones and Derek knew, Travis seemed oblivious to it however. If he knew he wouldn't do his usual hangover routine which involved him climbing into your bed to snuggle and complain about his head until the afternoon. As it was you weren't complaining. You loved feeling the heat through your body from the innocent act by him.

"Fuck it. Let's skip. We can always catch up. We'll just say we ate dodgy food again. Blame Derek's cooking." You laughed and wrapped an arm around his waist and sighed.

"Shhh my head hurts. Let's go back to sleep" He wrapped his arms around you and closed his eyes.

/*/

The slam of the door jolted you awake. Fucking noisy bastards you thought, glancing at the clock and groaning. Travis rubbed his eyes and sat up slowly. Derek kicked the door open and bounced on the bed, crushing you and Travis back into the mattress.

"See you two finally fucked!" He laughed.

You and Travis both turned bright red and you shoved Derek hard to get out from under him. You stood and pointed at the door.

"Get out!"

"Hey I'm joking! Nice shorts by the way." He laughed, leaning on one elbow to look you over lustifully. You huffed and slammed the door as you entered the bathroom.

Derek was such an ass. If he didn't mind you being late on the rent occasionally you would of moved out but you knew you'd never find somewhere as awesome as the loft. Especially when it came to your art supplies. The space for your canvases was your priority. Hours and weeks and months were spent on your art and they needed special storage to ensure they didn't get ruined. Derek, thankfully, had the perfect conditions for this. Oil, acrylic, watercolour, whatever your classical and fine arts class called for you had on hand within reach. The last place you lived meant you had to rent out a storage unit and numerous pieces of art had been lost because of the shit climate and vermin. You shuddered as you showered, remembering Travis helping you clear the storage unit to move in and discovering one of your favourite pieces had been converted into a comfortable two up two down by a collection of rats. That hadn't been a pleasant sight.

Wrapping a towel around you, you exited the bathroom to a thankfully empty bedroom. The laughs of your roommates reached your ears and you smiled lightly, dressing quickly in your usual baggy clothes before throwing up your hair and sitting at your desk. You sent an email to your professor for the weeks assignment and leaned back, your head ending upside down as you looked at the large blank canvas behind you. You'd bought the thing on a complete whim. You didn't know what to do with it now you had it. And honestly, you'd forgotten you'd even bought it in the first place until the delivery men hauled it into your living room. Maybe you should just give it to Travis. He'd know what to do with it.

"Hey you."

"Hello Miss Jones. What can I do for you today?"

You knew what she was going to say as soon as she closed the door. When you gonna tell him how you feel... Blah. Blah. Blah.

"Before you say it. No. Things are good the way they are. I ain't gonna rock the boat."

"Y/N"

"Nope... Not a chance Jonesy. Ain't telling my cute, sweet, sexy as fuck, roommate I share a vast majority of art classes with I like him. Not happening."

"You should. He's a sweetie."

"I know. That's why I can't. I ain't his type anyway. He prefers thin blonds."

"Oh hunny, you have no idea what he likes." Jones smiled and patted your shoulder lightly. "Maybe you should ask for his help on that huge monster of a canvas." She smirked as she left.

Frowning, you bit your lip and considered her suggestion. Jones smirked as she passed Travis and winked back at you.

Shit. Had he heard?

"You... Erm... Need help with the... Assignment?" He stuttered, his head ducked lowly as you blushed.

"Er yea... Later... I... I... I need to look it over some more.."

He nodded and smirked as he tapped against your doorframe before spinning on his heel and leaving. As soon as you were sure he was out of sight and earshot yoh banged your head forward on the desk with a groan.

"Fuck my life."

/:/

"Lift! Careful! Careful" You huffed as you directed Travis and Derek, who were lifting the canvas into Travis's room for the project that you'd come up with. You laughed as Derek bashed his arm against the door.

"Remind me to not let you get another one this big!" Travis huffed, setting the monster down against his wall and flexing his thick fingers.

"Its not that bad! It's gonna look awesome!" You laughed quietly, tying your Y/H/C into a high ponytail and smiling as Derek left grumbling. "Come on Travis. Let's get this baby started."

"What exactly are we doing again?"

You shook your head and tugged the canvas into a more pleasant angle, last thing you wanted or needed was to injure yourself by overstretching yourself. Travis glanced over his shoulder as he picked up his paintbrush, twirling it between his fingers with a cigarette hanging from his sinful mouth. Your eyes gazed over his wide shoulders and down his back. The black vest clung to the muscles in his back and tucked into the overalls he was wearing, the sleeves tied tight around his narrow hips. His boots banged against the wood floor loudly as he tapped his foot expectantly.

"Y/N?"

"Huh?!" You startled out of your thoughts of how he'd feel under your hands as your nails dragged scarlet lines down that delicious looking back. "Oh erm... Well I was thinking maybe... Erm... A sex scene but not straight up porn. Like two lovers in an embrace kinda thing out in nature... Does that make sense?"

"Hmm... So... Summit like this?" He asked, quickly sketching a rough plan of two lovers on a scrap of paper. The lines were sharp with his haste, the angles a bit off but it was perfect. The woman's head thrown back as the man's lips kissed her neck, the hands gripping onto the males broad shoulders, her leg thrown over his hip.

You smiled widely and began sketching it on to the canvas roughly. Travis smiled, flicked his cigarette and joined you. Each of you taking one of the figures to draw. Travis's eyes lingering on your rapidly shifting hands. He loved watching you loose yourself to your creativity. It was as beautiful as the sun rise to him. The look of pure joy and concentration on your face, highlighted your beauty. The dimples in the corner of your mouth as you placed your pencil between your teeth drove him wild. He couldn't help but wonder what they'd look like as you sucked his cock. He ducked his head to the side as he felt his cock getting harder at the mere thought.

/:/

You backed away from the canvas and tilted your head to the side. Something was off with the sketch and it was bugging you no end. You just couldn't put your finger on what it was. Was it the angle? The pose? Was it something small and seemingly insignificant? Was it because you'd taken the male figure where Travis the female?

"Something is off about it... I just can't see what it is though..." Travis agreed, another cigarette dangling from his fingertips.

"Yea... I see it but I don't. Ya know. Maybe we should... Nah... That's stupid." You blushed and ran your hands over your face. Your eyes were a tad itchy and tired from the low light in the room plus the smoke. Travis chewed his lip and walked to you slowly.

"What?"

"Well... Maybe we should try the pose out. See if its because we didn't have a proper reference for it." Your eyes stayed on the floor, running over the numerous splatters of multicoloured paint that had been dipping onto it. Travis felt a lump in his throat as he shifted his weight nervously. He nodded his head upwards and slowly stalked towards you, licking his lip nervously. You shifted closer and with a glance at the canvas lifted your leg to his hip, pushing yourself closer to him. His fingers hesitated for a moment before wrapping around your thigh tightly. His lips slightly red from being chewed dropped to your neck before pulling away sharply.

"Trav?"

"Hold up. Camera. Can't hold pose and look at it at the same time."

He rushed and grabbed his camera, setting it up on a tripod and grabbed the clicker to be able to take the photo. He smiled as he reached for you and you flushed, feeling the heat from his crotch against your core as he lifted your leg back into place across his hip. His mouth once more just brushing your neck as you ran your hand through his short dark tresses. The camera flashed suddenly and you backed away as Travis quickly hooked the memory card into his computer and gave a laugh at the blurry image on the screen.

"Still looks wrong. Maybe we should lose the overalls?" He suggested quietly, swallowing audibly as the image became more focused. You nodded and blushed, slipping the boots off your feet and shrugging the dark paint splattered overalls off your hips to pool on the floor beside his bed. Your throat went dry as his gaze ran along your legs, over your plain black panties and up your stomach to the thin white cotton vest you had on. Your nipples were clearly visible through the fabric, a dusty rose colour and hard from the tingle of arousal running rampant through you.

Travis's eyes darken as he removed his own clothes down to his boxers before returning to your side once more. You shuddered as his fingertips ran up your leg to grip you up around his hip once more. His eyes drilled into yours as he lowered his head to your neck. Your eyes closed, feeling his breath ghosting over your pulse point. You felt his cock harden against your core as your nails lightly scrapped his scalp and sucked in a gasp. His lips brushed against your neck as the camera flashed. His hand tightened in the back of your neck as he trailed kisses up your neck before pulling back to look into your eyes. You bit your lip and nudged your nose against his lightly.

"Travis..."

"You... God... Y/N I like you. I've thought about you and me so much. I wanna..."

"Shut up and kiss me idiot."

You smiled at the smirk gracing his face as he did as he was told, pushing his hips into yours tighter. He grabbed your other leg and pulled you up into his arms, walking forward to his bed before dipping down onto his knees. His lips felt heavenly after so long of a wait. You nipped his lip lightly and pushed your tongue into his mouth as he gasped.

He growled and thrust against you as his hands ripped your vest from your chest and licked at your nipple. You grabbed his hair and tugged him back to your mouth as you pushed his boxers down his hips and felt the heavy, thick weight of his raging hard cock.

His lips left a trial along your neck, sucking and nipping gently as he ground his hips against yours slowly. A thrill of desire flared in your core, making your clit twitch against the cotton covering them. His fingers lightly tapped along the edge of your panties before gripping them tightly and dragging them harshly down your hips. Your hand ran up and down his length as he leaned his forehead against yours, his breaths coming out as soft groans.

"Fuck... I ain't gonna last if ya keep that up!" He moaned, feeling his orgasm rapidly approaching. With a slight growl, he grabbed your hand and pulled it off himself, slamming it down above your head and panted against your neck. "Fuck..."

"Travis... Please..." You moaned, wiggling under his weight. He smirked against your collarbone as he began kissing down your chest. He shifted his hips and aligned himself with your dripping core. In one swift thrust he buried himself inside your aching pussy as you gave a very loud moaning shriek. Your nails raked down his back as he set a hard, fast pace. His fingers digging harshly into your hips, sure to leave bruises for days.

You gave a loud moan as you felt your core tingling and fluttering around his hard cock, your pleasure sky rocketing towards the orgasmic bliss it craved.

Your release crashed over you as his fingers dug crescents into your hips as his thrusts became harder and rougher. His head leaned back as he enjoyed the sensation of your walls spasming around him, your mouth held open in a silent scream as pleasure rushed through your entire nervous system.

You pulled him towards you and crashed your lips against his as his hips began loosing their rhythm, his own release rapidly approaching. He gave a groan and pulled out, gripping himself tightly and splashing your stomach with his cum. He fell down beside you panting then chuckled.

"Fuck..."

"Yea." You replied with a breath laugh, your hand pushing your sweat soaked hair off your face and grimacing slightly at the stickiness coating you. "We should probably clean up.

"Sorry."

"Don't be. It was worth it."

"Yea... Definitely. We should of done that ages ago." He said smiling, leaning up onto one elbow to look into your blissed out face, his other hand using his shirt to clean his mess from your skin. You pushed your hand through his hair and drew his lips to yours before pulling away and biting your lip with a smirk.

"Maybe we should get some more inspiration for that canvas huh?" You said flirty, wiggling an eyebrow up and down. He glanced behind him towards the canvas before laughing and diving on top of you again attacking your neck with his teeth. You gave a loud laugh.

The canvas certainly wouldn't be blank for much longer that was for sure.

[therealvalkyrie]

Through the Mirror: Part 1

my body, my music

Pairing/setting: Detective!Levi Ackerman x Female!Ghost!Reader, modern!AU within the Walls

Summary: When you’re murdered one Tuesday morning, can Levi piece together the true circumstances of your death with your help from beyond the grave?

Word Count: 2.6k

Warnings: dead body, descriptions of blood, swearing, mentions of violence

AN: Welcome to my new series because I have no self control and can’t finish projects before starting others! Lemme just start off by saying updates may come pretty irregularly because I do have a lot of other WIPs to work on, but! I’m really excited about this idea and have a whole lot planned:) I seriously hope you enjoy. After all, who doesn’t love a good murder mystery? Drop into my DMs/askbox/comments/reblogs to let me know what you think! Be kind to yourselves and others. ~valkyrie

“Ah, shit! Hello!? I’m standing right here!”

The woman completely ignores you, stepping carefully over the puddle of blood and across your tiny living room. You cross your arms and pout. She ignores that, too. 

“‘Scuse me, boys, let the experts take it from here,” she quips, gently pushing past the two detectives and crouching next to your body on the ground. 

It’s ugly, but she’s probably seen worse, you muse from where you’re leaning against the door jamb. It’s only been lying there for a couple of hours, so at least you haven’t bloated to something out of an NCIS episode. Must smell horrid, though, judging by the mask the head detective has pulled over his face.

“So, you said the landlady called at about 7 am?” the ME inquires, cocking her head up to look at the detectives, nylon gloved hands held at the ready.

“7:07 exactly. Said a neighbor made a noise complaint, she came up to check it out, found signs of a forced entry, and called us.” It’s the taller blonde who speaks up, reading from an off-brand pocket notepad in his left hand. The kind you’d find on sale at Staples after Back-to-School season.

Interesting. You lean your head against the wall, eyes trained on the trio. You’d pegged the ill-tempered shorter one as in charge. Maybe he’s just the quiet type. 

“Hmm, alright. Moblit, get off your ass and come take the pictures before we move her,” the woman calls to someone behind you, and you turn just in time to get a face full of Moblit’s chest as he walks towards you. 

You cringe back with a “God, seriously?” to no response.

“Yes, sorry, right away, Hange!” Moblit hurries past- no, through -you, sidestepping the ottoman and the blood. It feels weird, like a strong wind, but not altogether unpleasant to have someone walk through you, you suppose. You look down at your chest to watch your misty body re-settle into itself before looking back at the group in your living room.

Were it not for the gruesome accents of blood flecked up the walls and your body riddled with stab wounds, you’d chuckle at how all four of them struggled to navigate the space. It’s cramped enough when it’s just you, fitting only a couch, a chair, a coffee table, your fern (Boris), and a narrow IKEA bookshelf. With the four of them plus a dead body, it’s like watching a freaking clown car.

“Sorry, excuse me, Captain, oh, was that your toe—?” Moblit’s struggling the most, having to move to capture different angles with his bulky camera. When he steps on the shorter man’s toe, he positively blanches, fumbling over himself to apologize while the ME laughs openly.

“God, alright, just,” the Captain pinches his delicate nose between a thumb and forefinger, then decides it’s better to wait in the kitchen. “C’mon, Gin, let’s chat in there.”

The Captain and the blonde detective both pass through you on the way back to the kitchen, but you only sigh and shake the tingly feeling of being incorporeal out of your fingers before following them.

“So,” the man called Gin takes the initiative, flipping back through his notebook and standing by the fridge. “I got statements from the landlady and two of the neighbors, numbers 303 and 304 down the hall. 301, directly across the hall, didn’t answer, but I got contact info from the landlady.” He pauses to read and scratch at his whiskery beard. “It was 304 who made the noise complaint, said she heard yelling this morning at around 5:45, and that she normally wouldn’t’ve said anything but it was, quote, the fourth goddamn time this week and I work the goddamn night shift, I deserve some fucking rest, unquote.”

You grin. Mrs. Sheffield was never one to mince words, something you appreciated when your ex-boyfriend got too loud and she took it upon herself to give him a piece of her mind. You catch a glimmer of a smile on the ornery Captain’s face above where he’s pulled his mask down before he gestures for Gin to keep going, keeping his thoughtful gaze fixed on the floor and his back against your countertop.

“Then after she called the landlady, she went to bed, only to be woken by us two hours later.”

“You said she called the landlady at 5:45 and that she works the night shift?”

Gin double checks his notes. “That’s right.”

“And she works at the hospital?”

“Yes, as a scrub nurse on the night shift.”

“But the night shift at the hospital ends at 6:30.”

“It was her night off,” you and Gin say at the same time before you catch yourself. They can’t hear you, anyway. This’d be a lot easier if they could.

Gin plows ahead. “But she says she keeps the same sleep schedule so she doesn’t, ah, fuck up her circadian rhythm.”

The Captain practically snorts at this, itching for a second under his silk cravat (can someone say pretentious) before settling back into a listening silence.

“303 says he didn’t hear a thing. College kid, looked exhausted. Said he was asleep the whole night after he got in at,” a page flip, “11 o’clock last night. Wasn’t much help, but looked genuinely upset when we told him about the murder. Wanted to know if there was anything he could do. Oh, but he did, uh, hang on,” more page flips, “He did tell us that he heard her and her boyfriend arguing a lot. Which is consistent with what Mrs. Sheffield told us.”

“Ex-boyfriend,” you correct into thin air. 

“A lover’s spat gone wrong, then,” Mr. Pretentious Captain muses. You huff in annoyance. A lover’s spat. If that’s all that this is written off as you’ll have some serious PD haunting to do. Chris may have been an angry, loud, disruptive manipulator, but he wouldn’t murder you. He didn’t murder you. “Any info on the whereabouts of the boyfriend?”

“Ex-boyf—!”

Blondie cuts you off, “Not currently, but we do have a name: Chris Henderson, works in admin down at the University. Lives across town closer to the Bridge.”

“Send some uniforms to bring him in for questioning. No arrests yet, tell ‘em to keep it friendly.”

“Right, I’ll put Dreyse and Bodt on it.”

“Dreyse, really?” Captain Cravat gives Gin an incredulous look. 

“Hey, she may look like a ditz but she gets the job done. And she might get him to let down his guard,” Gin argues, grinning. 

“Fine. I’ll meet them at the station, you stay here and make sure that mousy-haired dunce doesn’t fuck up my crime scene.”

“Hey, who’re you callin’ mousy-haired, short stack?” Hange actually sticks her whole head through yours this time, to butt into the conversation, and you shriek and jump away to the other side of your tiny kitchen, now sandwiched between Blondie and Shortstack. The latter twitches and swats at the air by his ear, as though to dislodge a fly, narrowly missing yours. You give him a weird look then turn back to listen to the ME. She’s leaning into the kitchen at an alarming angle, one hand on the doorframe and the other on the end of the gurney you assume is carrying your body. You shudder at the thought of being toted around in a dark, musty, humid glorified coat bag. Ugh. 

“—takin’ this baby”-she slaps the gurney twice and you flinch-“back so I can get started on the autopsy, Moblit’s staying to take more pictures and collect forensics. If Eld’s stayin’ here with Mob, does that mean you’re catching a ride with me, Levi?” The question is addressed to Captain Grump on your right, who gives a heavy sigh and pushes off the counter. 

“I guess so. I get to choose music though.”

“Ah, ah, ah,” she’s wagging a finger, grinning. “My body, my music!”

“How about my body, my music?” you suggest, following Levi. “I deserve it after the day I’ve had.”

Again, Levi twitches and swats aggressively by his ear, nearly hitting you full in the face this time. 

“You hear that, Gin? This place got a mosquito problem or something?”

“I do not have a mosquito problem!” and “No, sir, I don’t hear anything.” overlap in the air. 

Captain Levi only grunts, then starts spouting instructions, which Gin notes down. “I want footage from any cameras in the building, and from the shops next door and across the street. I want statements from residents both upstairs and downstairs. I want names, addresses, and numbers of next of kin on my desk by noon, and lastly, I want no one, save for myself, you, shitty glasses, and mousy-hair, in or out of this apartment. Are we clear?”

“Crystal clear, sir.”

“Good. I’m leaving you Braus to help and to show her the ropes of this kind of thing. Even though she’s on the case, she will not set foot in this apartment. I don’t trust her not to leave breadcrumbs in the bloodstains.

“Yes, sir.”

“I expect an in-person report before shift-change this evening. See you then.” Then, he’s sweeping out of the kitchen in pursuit of Hange and the gurney, leaving you to scurry after. As you exit your home, he shoots a young auburn-haired woman in a crisp white blouse and wool slacks a look. “Braus. You’re with Gin. Don’t go in the apartment.”

She straightens up from leaning against the wall with a jolt and brushes croissant crumbs off her front. “Yes, Captain Levi, sir!” It’s slightly muffled by the pastry stuffed into her mouth.

“Tch.”

It’s fascinating watching how Levi and Hange manage to navigate the gurney down the narrow, twisting stairs of your walk-up apartment building. They’re both clearly used to this sort of thing, communicating only in short phrases and grunts when they encounter an obstacle. Occasionally, you offer up a pointer and watch as Levi becomes increasingly irritated. 

“Watch out for Mr. Laslow’s cat, he likes to sneak up on ya!”

“Hange, do you hear— shit!” Levi hops to the side, narrowly avoiding the tabby tail as Tubbins McGee whisks past.

“It’s only a cat, Levi, dunno what’s got you so worked up today,” Hange teases, grin echoing your own as you chortle from the landing above them. 

Eventually, they spill out onto the sidewalk and into the bright mid-day, and Hange groans loudly, stretching with both hands on her back.

“Ugh. Remind me not to die in there, I’d hate to put someone else through that.”

“Boof, tell me about it,” you commiserate. 

“Noted,” Levi snarks. 

Hange removes jingling keys from her pocket and unlocks the ME’s van parked along the sidewalk with a beep, then opens the back doors and steps in. You follow, leaning against the cool metal siding to watch.

When they both load into the front seats and the engine turns over, you lean forward between them to listen in.

“So,” Hange starts, smoothly pulling out into the road behind a silver minivan. “I’ll be able to give you a more solid answer in a couple hours, but my initial estimated time of death would be around 5:45 this morning.”

Levi nods, staring out the passenger window while he answers. “That lines up with the neighbor’s story.”

“Theories so far?”

“Well, there’s the boyfriend,” he muses, lifting a hand to rub his chin.

“Too obvious,” you say dully, not bothering to amend the lack of “ex” yet again. “Next theory.”

He’s quiet for a moment, then mutter, almost too quietly for you to catch: “Too obvious, hmm? Next theory....”

You’re momentarily flabbergasted, hand falling through the faux-leather seat back in your shock. Can he actually hear you? You shake out your hand while it re-materializes, tuning in to the conversation as Hange’s responding. 

“—a little far-fetched, don’t you think? I mean, has there been any of that activity in this area recently?”

“Mm, I’ll have to touch base with Petra. If there has been, I think it’s worth looking into.”

“What is? Wait, go back,” you frantically plead, leaning further into his airspace. But Hange plows on. 

“Oh, it’s Petra, now, hmm? Not Raggedy Anne anymore?” Her tone is teasing, and she glances over to Levi for a reaction. 

He doesn’t give her one, just stares out the window pensively before reaching for the radio dial. The stereo blares up into an Oldies station, and you make a disgusted face along with Levi. 

“You listen to this shit?”

“Hey, my dead body, my music, sweetcheeks. Don’t like it, you can thumb it back to the PD.”

“How about my dead body, my music?” you suggest again, reaching for the dial at the same time as Levi does. Just as his slender fingers touch it, your hand passes through the whole front console and the oldies are replaced with a terrifyingly loud static screeching. 

“Christ, Levi, what’d you do?” Hange shrieks, lunging forward to punch the radio off as you remove your hand. 

“Nothing! It just went berserk!”

They bicker while you stare at your offending palm. “Huh. Didn’t know I could do that.”

If you can actually interact with objects, at least to some degree, and if it turns out Levi can hear you.... This whole thing might be easier than you thought.

[austarus]

Frost/Caitlin Snow x Reader - 5 and 7

**A/N: The picture/edit/gif does not belong to me. It belongs to its rightful owner.

*I’m not dead, however, I’m slowly trying to get back into writing. I’m so mentally and emotionally exhausted from my uni and classes. I’m just so tired. I just want winter break to come. My professors and university don’t really care about doing their jobs correctly or compensating/accommodating the students during the stress of the pandemic. It’s harder at the hospital I work at. Break is coming soon and I have so many fics planned. 

Word Count: 2453

“So, cutie, when are you going to tell them?”  

You yelped in surprise at the source of the voice. Turning around you saw Frost leaning against the doorframe of your room. “Tell who- What- How the hell did you even get in here?” You raised an eyebrow at her while she strolled in and plopped down on your bed. You had no idea why she kept calling you pet names.

“I picked your lock.”

“Of course, you did,” you sighed, folding a shirt and setting it aside. You continued doing your laundry while Frost laid back on your bed, legs crossed. Glancing at her, you shook your head while she sucked on a lollipop. Caity had yelled at her for invading your privacy the entire time she was picking your lock. Frost payed her no mind. With your clothes fully sorted in piles, you picked one up and moved to your dresser. Bending down, you opened the most bottom drawer and placed the jeans there along with some leggings. Frost’s eyes racked over your figure.

She’s got a pretty nice ass, huh Caity?

Can’t you keep your eyes to yourself? Be respective.

Hey, (Y/N) started it a few days ago. Remember? And I’m being perceptive.

Caitlin had gone silent at the back of her alter ego’s head. A few days ago, you had accidentally stared a bit too long when she wore a deep V-neck romper. The back was completely open, and Caitlin was sporting her typical heels that day. The physician had caught you a few times, she just wasn’t sure what was up. Did it look bad on her? Was it damaged and you didn’t have the heart to tell her? Frost had… insisted on an idea, but Caity had shut her down. After all, you’ve only been ever interested in guys.

Her eyes were all over us. And her reaction when I came out was delicious.

“Nice panties,” Frost broke the silence, holding one up that had straggled far from you. Confused, you caught it when she had thrown it at you. It was a lacy deep blue one. You huffed and folded it quickly.

“Thanks, I guess.”

Your phone vibrated, with a frown you checked it. It was Cisco.

Ciscito: Is Frost/Caitlin with you? 5: 46 PM

You: Yeah? Why? 5: 51 PM

Ciscito: Good, keep her out of the labs for a bit. Barry and I are going to try to jumpstart the Speedforce machine thing again and she’s sort of been bothering us all day. 5: 53 PM

You: What? No? Have Ralph come pick her up! He’s better at dealing with her. 5: 54 PM

Ciscito: Too late... 5: 55 PM

You: She broke into my home!  5: 56 PM

Ciscito: That sounds like our frost queen. And Ralph’s busy with Sue 5: 57 PM

You: … Of course, he is 5: 58 PM

“I can see your nipples,” You snapped your head up to see the cold meta sit up on your plush bed. You felt your cheeks flush slightly as she smirked at you. Frost loved teasing you, “Right through your shirt. Perky. Cute.”

Don’t make her uncomfortable!

But its so cute and so easy to see her blush. Plus, you’ve seen her boobs in dresses before, they’re pretty cute. So squishy. I can just-

-They are- But that’s beside the point. Just, you know-

-I know, chill, I got this.

You rolled your eyes at her, “In my defense, if I had known someone was coming over, then I would have put a bra on.” You were having a lazy day today, deciding to just clean and not come into the labs. Originally you were going to just laze around without any clothes. You’re glad that you didn’t go through with that idea. “Don’t you have anything else better to do? Anyone else to bug?”

“I’m bugging you.”

“Besides me, Frost.”

“Nah, I’m good. Where’s your alcohol, by the way? I’m stealing some.”

“No, fuck you.”

“When and where? Because we can go right now,” The cold-powered meta pointed with her thumb on the bed. “Bed is right here so-”

“-I will hit that pretty face of yours.”

“Aw, you think I’m pretty. Caity, she thinks we’re pretty.”

“Oh my god,” you groaned. You always got into these sorts of… Well, you didn’t know how to exactly word it.

“So, when are you going to tell them?”

“Tell who what?” You rolled your eyes as she had followed you out of your bedroom into your quaint living room. Caity took the time to appreciate your small apartment. It was cozy, the color scheme fitting well with not just the décor and furniture, but with your personality.

“The team,” Frost simply stated as she ran her fingers over the cool marble of the side-counter attached to the wall and connected to the counter where the sink resided. You eyed the meta carefully, a ball forming in your gut.

“About what?”

“You know about what.”

“No, I don’t.” Pulling out the alcohol, you avoided her eyes.

“Can I use your bathroom real quick? Don’t want to break the barrier while drinking or else we both know there’d be no end to the bathroom trips for Caity.”

Hey! Rude! I’m right here.

But it’s true.

“First door on the left,” You simply said, pouring the meta a drink while you pulled out some snacks and ginger ale for yourself. Your stomach had been hurting you for a bit. Might as well entertain the Frost Queen while the boys finish. I swear, a warning would have been nice before she arrived.

Frost entered your bathroom and turned on the lights. She froze for a moment at the sight on what was on the arm of the bathtub. Before a snicker left her lips which erupted into a full-on laugh.

Is that-

-a dildo in her bathroom. Yup. Frost got closer and picked up the cleaned toy. She figured it was because the cleaning products for it was out on the counter. Which means she had used it fairly recently. Frost licked her lips at the thought of you using it. That same thought made Caity remain quiet and just feel hella bashful, yet… intrigued by it. Aw, that’s cute she can only take up to 5”. Bet you we can-

-Frost-

-get her up to 7”. Now that’s a delicious thought. It’s a good thing I bought the str-

“Hey, Frost have you seen- Oh my god- I- that’s-” You dropped your towel as you froze in the hallway. The meta turned around with the colored dildo in hand. Your ears had perked up at the intense sound of her laugh, wondering what she was laughing at. Well, now you know and you’re 100% convinced she’s laughing at you.”

“Not yours? I honestly find it hard to believe.”

You tried to form words, but your mind would not comply

“5 inches. That’s real cute. Caity thinks so too.”

Do not involve-

-You think it’s cute, now hush. I can feel your feelings too.

“Are you only meant to tease and pester me?” You flushed under her gaze, stepping over to take the dildo away. “Also, where’s Caitlin? Isn’t she supposed to be having the day to herself this time?” But she dodged you. Running out of the bathroom. You shut off the lights, because duh you pay rent and also save energy thus saving the planet.

“We sort of… switched it up. But this,” Frost held up the detailed dildo. The two of you kept running around the apartment like that. “You can do better. And you know what I mean.” Your heart stopped when she winked at you, giving the tip a slow lick as he eyes never left you. You swallowed hard.

“By the way, Caity and I know. Well, it was mainly me, but no need to be shy.”

“I- How?” You sighed in defeat because you couldn’t catch her. Well, you wanted to 100% tackle her to the couch and steal the dildo, but you Frost didn’t like anyone touching her. Instead you just took a seat on the couch while she moved to stand in front of you, the coffee table wedged between you both.

“A little birdie may have stared a bit too long a few too many times when we were wearing that v-neck romper.” She shrugged before taking a seat beside you. “And it really was adorable watching you fumble about and look away.” Frost smirked, resting her elbow on the back of the couch. “I wonder what else that face can make.”

You felt the air in the apartment get stuffier. “A-and Caitlin knows?”

“Oh, she knows. Now she knows. She just wasn’t convinced about my thought of you being gay… or well, bi. Mainly because you dated guys.” She handed you the dildo.

“Th-that did not mean I can’t be interested in girls. I just… never acted on it.”

“Oh, I know. She just didn’t want to assume and everything. You’re shit with talking to guys, so I figured you’d be the same way or much worse with girls.”

“Gee, thanks,” you rolled your eyes at her, setting the suction cup dildo on the counter. There was a silence in the apartment. You got up to grab the drinks, handing her the glass of alcohol on the rocks while you had your cup of ginger ale.

“Girls do it better.” Frost broke the silence and took great pleasure into seeing you almost choke on your drink.

“Where the fuck did that come from?”

“What? I was just stating an obvious fact in case you were wondering-”

“-I was not-”

“-Yes, you were.” She deadpanned, placing her alcohol down on the coffee table. “Oh, so Caity’s gonna tap in. Hold on.” You raised an eyebrow at the meta melting back into her human alter ego. Platinum blonde hair changed to a beautiful brunette color, eyes softening up as well.

“I am so sorry, I swear she doesn’t think before speaking,” Caitlin started apologizing, fidgeting with her hands. She was always so pretty and adorable when she did that. Or just whenever she spoke in general. “… But she is right.”

“About which part? That chicks do it better? That she can get me to 7”? Or that I’m shit with talking to guys and I would be much worse with girls?”

If she gave me one night, I’d get her to 7-

-Frost-

-Plus, who’d pass up a night of that kind of kinky fun.

Frost! Stop!

You raised an eyebrow and figured Frost was whispering her two cents into Caitlin, who was automatically flushing. “What did she say?”

“Too many things.” Caitlin roughly sighed, “I- we… sort of have been thinking and reflecting-” -Get to the point!- -I am! “A-and we wouldn’t really mind if- I mean we just. W-we like you. And we just wanted to know that we weren’t misinterpreting the signs.” Way to sound like a high schooler with a crush. Grow a pair woman and say that we wanna kiss and bang her like the world means nothing.

“I..” You took in a breath and held your cup with hands. A shaky breath left you. Glancing away, you collected your thoughts before turning back to an expectant Caitlin. “I really like you too. Both of you. Like… a lot.” Caitlin smiled, but you continued. Frost just whispered that she knew it and tried to get Caitlin to go in for the kiss. But Caitlin tuned her out. “At first, I… I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t want to say anything because I just- I just didn’t want to ruin our friendship. It’s- That’s why I kept going on those random-ass dates with some guys on bumble. It was actually fun taking some of the guys down a few notches. I swear the male ego is so infuriating sometimes.”

“Amen to that. Honestly Ronnie and Julian were one of the best guys in my life.”

You smiled back at her, “I wanted to convince myself that I shouldn’t be thinking of my close friend like that. But then I kept thinking and feeling. And here we are.” You gestured to herself and you.

Caitlin pulled you into a comforting hug, her arms around your shoulders, “When Frost came out, I did too. I think Cisco and Kamila were the first one’s to know. They did have to drag Frost out of a gay bar where she was literally arm wrestling the other drunk customers. Not one of her best moments.”

Caitlin pulled away abruptly, Frost coming out to defend herself. Platinum blonde locks, icy white irises, and blue lips. “Hey, it was one of my finer moments! I was kicking their asses left and right.”

“I never said anything.” You giggled and Frost just cupped your face with a grin on her face.

“You’re too cute to stay mad at.” The meta tugged you into a kiss, her cool lips pressed against yours, your hands lightly gripped her arms as your lips started smacking against hers in a rough-ish kiss. “Mm, you taste good. Like… vanilla latte?” Pulling away, Frost licked her lips from the kiss and melting back into the depths of her mind for Caitlin to come out to have a taste. Caity’s kiss was gently -sensual- unlike how heated Frost wanted to get with you. Damn, your heart was flying, and your panties were… well… yeah… You locked lips for a bit with Caitlin, nibbling on her soft lips before she finally pulled away with a small breath. Her cheeks were flushed and lips slightly swollen. She looked so cute.

Frost came out once more, pointing behind you, “You know, we can put that dildo to good use tonight.”

Frost, what the hell!

“Shouldn’t you take me out on a few dates before we go to bed?”

“Nah, we can do that tomorrow morning. Plus, Caity’s a big cuddle bug so be prepared for that. I’m more of a big spoon. For now, we can play with that bad boy,” Frost pointed to the dildo behind you, “before upgrading you the 7 inch that I have at home. And believe me. You’ll really enjoy it when I’m done with you.”

“As long as I get to do you too.”

“Obviously”

“Is Caity ok with it?”

“Oh, honey, she’s going to be more than ok with it. She’s flailing around embarrassed right now, but she’s hella wet so. Bed. Let’s go.” You couldn’t help the fit of giggles you had as she dragged you by the hand to your bedroom while holding the light purple dildo in her other hand.

[richiettozier]

mal amour

Richie counted to one hundred before pushing against the fancy intercom. Passerby didn't mind his stalling, they just threw a curious glance at him, probably asking themselves why he stood immobile like that for almost two minutes straight before doing anything – he didn't even notice those looks. His eyes are too busy in reading over and over the Kaspbrak tag written elegantly besides the intercom's button.

“Yes?” answered the robotic voice of a woman, and something from his chest fell into the bottom of his stomach. Romantically, his heart. Truthfully, he'd say just bile.

Richie cleared his throat, “Pizza man!” he half–joked. He hoped that she would let him enter with that blatant excuse, but he didn't feel so lucky so he didn't expect anything more of a click and the deaf sound of the silent intercom.

“We never order pizza.”

Jesus fucking Christ.

“I was kidding, obviously.” Richie sighed and tapped once against the wall of the apartment building, also leaning to get closer to the device. He was tired from the trip from Los Angeles to here in New York, so he didn't want to raise his voice. He was lacking of sleep, but it wasn't because of the flight he took in the middle of the night. “I am a... friend of Eddie? I believe he lives here. You know, it's his name on the intercom.”

“A friend of my Eddie?” she seemed to gasp. Richie didn't like the sound she was making, the incredulity he was hearing from the metallic noises coming out the device.

“That's what I said.”

“And what you are called?”

The fuck. “Eddie's mom–” he bristled, stopping himself. He glanced down at his bags abandoned by his feet, and grudgingly he decided that he shouldn't make mom's jokes right now, if he didn't wish to go sleep under a bridge tonight – not that he would sleep in any other place, but it was surely more uncomfortable than a couch. “I mean, Eddie calls me Richie, sometimes Rich, and when he's particularly mad at me he even calls me Richard. But actually, everyone calls me Richie, because that's my name. It's a...” he gulped, “A pleasure. Or it would be, if we weren't talking through an intercom.”

The intercom clicked, in the end, and the silence Richie was expecting finally arrived. He leaned his forehead against the cold marble of the building door's edge and closed his stinging eyes, shunning them from the midday New York sun. Shit. He grabbed his two bags and threw them over his shoulders – half himself wanted to go, just go away, because evidently he wasn't welcomed between the lovebirds; but the other half wanted to ring the intercom again and again, until Eddie himself, obviously annoyed, jumped down the stairs to kick him away from there.

The latter seemed to be the best of the two options. At least Richie would see him, angry and alive, before going fuck himself. His finger stopped mid hair, though, when a long bip came from the building's door, signaling that someone – Richie guessed Eddie, at this point – finally fucking let him enter.

Richie didn't know which floor Eddie's apartment was, so he chose to walk up the stairs instead of use the elevator – a grave mistake, but necessary. He started with a quick step regardless of the tiredness he was feeling in his very bones, but just after a single flight of stairs he already was wheezing. “Thank the fucking God,” he huffed, when he reached the third floor and there was Eddie waiting for him in front of the door of his apartment.

Eddie was clearly looking at the elevator, expecting him to come out of it, that was why he almost jumped when he heard his heavy steps stumbling on the stairs. “Why the fuck you didn't use the elevator, Rich?” It was Eddie's greeting, and Richie almost cried hearing it. “I think I never used the stairs in three years, maybe more.”

“I didn't know where your apartment was, dickwad.” Richie inhaled deeply when he arrived in front of Eddie, and he felt his fingers twitch around the straps of his bags. He tightened his grip, “Hey, Eds.”

Eddie's expression melted, and dimples appeared at the sides of his mouth as he smiled and walked towards him, with warm eyes and open arms. “You fucker.” Eddie hugged him, patting his shoulders. Richie's arms almost circled his waist in the hug, but then he decided to just pat his back the same way. He felt eyes looking through him, but Richie tried not to look up and see who the stare belonged to. He had some ideas, though. “What are you doing here? Are you on tour? You didn't tell you were about to start one so soon.”

Eddie ended the hug, and Richie finally felt enough himself to take a good look at him without feeling jelly legs. He was in a suit, so he must have come back from whatever office he was working in to have lunch – with his wife – and he was so good looking that Richie thought it to be very unfair. He tried not to think much about his own state, worse than he was even before getting up the plane, and he wasn't decent then either. “Well, uh,” Richie sniffed, “No, I'm not on tour. I am still in that sabbatical time, or whatever Steve called my doing absolutely nothing.”

Eddie ushered him inside, and only then Richie forced himself not to look at his ass and stare straight ahead. There is no one, no woman watching at him with a frown, no plus–sized wife sending daggers with her eyes. Only Eddie, and the terrible smell of disinfectant lingering in the too white and aseptic apartment.

“Want a drink?” asked Eddie, gesturing at him to go sit on the couch.

“The strongest you have.” Richie knew that he probably just had, like, lame wine, but he was not going to complain, as he sat on the strangely comfortable cushions of the couch, throwing his bags on the floor without much care.

Eddie put a plain glass of water on the coffee table in front of him. Richie didn't even felt surprised. He should have expected it. Had he really married his fucking mother? “I just have water,” Eddie said, defensively.

“I can see that. It's fine,” Richie waved a hand, “So.”

“So.” Eddie sat next to him, closer than expected, but still too far. “Not that I'm not happy to see you, don't get me wrong here, man. But...” Eddie's warm eyes fell on his bags on the floor, “You should have, you know, gone to the hotel before coming here. So you didn't have to bring your things around the city.”

Richie shrugged, “Haven't booked a room.”

Eddie blinked, then sighed. His eyebrows were scrunched in an adorable frown, “I don't know why, but I'm not surprised.”

“I just, got on a plan and came here, you know? Without much thought. I–” Richie lowered his voice and leaned towards him, fidgeting slightly with his own fingers. He didn't want to look around and see if his wife was eavesdropping their conversation, so he just... let it all out. Who fucking cared. “I wanted to see you.”

Make sure you're still breathing, make sure your chest isn't pierced through, make sure that you're not bleeding on the sewers' dirty floor.

Eddie looked contrite, “Rich–”

“Just for a couple of days? I just need to, to stay with you for a couple of days, not much more. Is it too much to ask? You know, this couch is the most confortable couch my ass has ever put his glorious form on, I'm serious!” Eddie laughed, and Richie took it as a victory, “I wouldn't invite myself if I really didn't need it. I really, really need you. Er, I mean, it. Oh, fuck, alright, you! I need you!”

Eddie lowered his eyes, pointing them on the floor. Richie felt the silence stretching for almost thirty seconds before feeling a bubble of idiotic chatter raising from his throat, but he didn't have the time to splutter out a joke – he just wanted Eddie to laugh, after all – because a snort came out of Eddie's nose, “Rich, you idiot, you can stay as long as you want. No one will kick you out of here.” Eddie's mouth clicked shut, as if he said something he shouldn't, something unforgiving. But at the same time, the determination into his big eyes was saying that he wouldn't change his mind no matter what. “But you really have to sleep on the couch, I have no spare room.”

“Damn, Spaghetti boy, such a luxurious apartment and you didn't even have a spare room? You are the worst rich man I've ever met.”

“Shut up and fuck you.” Eddie shoved him, cackling with a tense laugh that Richie didn't really like, but it was better than nothing, he guessed. “Well, I think introductions are in order, considering that you have to stay here for a while.” he sighed, passing a nervous hand through his neatly hair, ruffling it. Richie's fingers twitched. He felt a pang of guilt for causing Eddie's discomfort, and for thinking of how he longed to do the same with his own hand. When he got up, Richie followed him, “I will take some time off from work, so we can... talk, yeah?”

“You don't need to do that.”

“Yeah, I do. You need me, you said.” Eddie threw him a glance through his long lashes, “And you look like shit, Richie. You look like you went to hell and back.”

I did, Richie thought. He desperately tried to come up with a joke, but all the things roaming into his mind in that moment weren't really funny. So he shrugged, “Yeah, the flight killed me.”

“Later we can go eat something,” Eddie was saying, as he walked into a room that Richie thought to be the kitchen, but it was so clean and neat that maybe he put his feet into an exhibition of furniture without noticing it. “We can talk... freely with a slice of pizza in front of us, how about that?”

“That sounds very good, if you add some ice cream right after.”

“What kind of guy do you think I am now?” Eddie snorted. One that doesn't order pizza anymore, Richie almost said, but the words got stuck in his throat at the sight of the woman he found sitting by an island, cleaning the already shiny marble of the furniture.

That woman was... was Eddie's mother. “I'm having a dé–jà vu.” choked out Richie, leaning against the doorframe, passing a hand on his forehead. “Mrs. K?!”

Eddie hissed, cursed and elbowed him in the ribs.

The woman was huge. Usually there wouldn't be anything wrong about this, but the fucked up similarities to Eddie's mother were making the impact way too traumatizing – Richie would say that only the straight, blonde mid long hair falling over her broad shoulders is the real difference that convinced him that she was not really the late Mrs. Kaspbrak.

“Richie, she's my wife, Myra.” Eddie was saying, ignoring the tumultuous whirlwind fucking Richie's mind. Well, Richie knew, from Eddie's words and confessions back in Derry, that he didn't get over the shadow of his mother, that he completely forgot fighting against her abuses when they were teenagers, but – Richie didn't think it was that bad. Jesus. “Myra, this is Richie, one of my childhood friends. I told you about them, you remember?”

“Yes, you did.” she snarled, “They caused you that scar! And you still have contact with them? You bring them here, in our house? They are dangerous! They will cause you harm, dear!” she said, her light eyebrows knitted together in a worried expression that twisted in rage when her eyes fell on Richie.

Richie, as Eddie just ignored her words as if he'd heard them so many times that they have no meaning anymore to him, grimaced slightly though at her outburst. He felt bad, the lingering uneasiness he had in his bones and insides since they all left Derry spiked up suddenly like an old burn sliding against a hot surface again. He eyed at the silver scar on Eddie's cheek, almost invisible but definitely still there. That scar wasn't Richie's fault, even if guilt squeezed his insides nonetheless, even if he always claimed to love him and then he left him alone right when that scar was made; still it could have been so much worse not much later, and at in that occasion it would have been all his fault.

“I'm wounded,” Richie said, pressing a hand against his chest, “Eddie talked so well about you, Mrs. K, I can't believe he didn't do the same to you!”

She narrowed her eyes even more, and Eddie tugged at his shirtsleeve. “Rich, drop it.”

Richie did. He didn't like the tight lines around his eyes, making him older – still hot, but older. More tired. It was the same expression he wore at sixteen every night Richie had found him in front of his front door, with a backpack and a beg on his lips. God, Eddie didn't deserve this shit again.

Later that day, after a hurried lunch with a slice of pizza – Eddie couldn't take immediately time off, so their talk had been delayed – and a more tense too early dinner with Eddie's wife, Eddie went to talk with his boss on the phone, demanding a vacancy for family matters. He made him rest on the couch, gave him a blanket even if there was a fucking terrible heat outside, while he disappeared in what it should have been his and his wife's bedroom.

His wife was with him, and Richie immediately heard when Eddie stopped talking to his boss and started arguing with her. He didn't catch all of their words, but then she shouted something like, “Is it his fault that you are treating me like this for weeks, Eddie?”, and really, call him a son of a bitch, but he really didn't care that they are at loggerheads because of him. He would gladly take the blame – the merit – of Eddie's blown up marriage. And actually, hearing Eddie's voice coming angry and skittish, screaming that “Richie needs me, I am his best friend!” and groaning when she cried and said to him with a teared up voice “and I am your wife!” from the other side of the apartment was easing his nerves, lulling him into a sleep that for weeks wasn't coming to him at all.

❀  read the rest on ao3!

[spaceiez]

Chapters: 2/?

Fandom: Gravity Falls Rating: Not Rated Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Bill Cipher/Dipper Pines Characters: Dipper Pines, Bill Cipher, Mabel Pines Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - College/University, Older Dipper Pines, Older Mabel Pines, Human Bill Cipher, Alcohol, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Rating May Change Summary:

Sophomore year of college and Dipper is ready for new adventures! But, when there is an unexpected dorm room change, Dipper must face a new challenge, a (crazy?) roommate named Bill Cipher.

Chapter One:  Illnnzgv Xszmtv

Dipper felt his lips curve into a smile as he set one of his suitcases into the bright blue college moving cart. He stood back up and slid out a plastic bin, filled with bedsheets, blankets, a mattress pad, and his pillow, out of the car trunk. He plopped it into the moving cart with his black suitcase. The young man glanced up, smiling wider as he took in the large campus around him. Dipper could feel both the excitement of being back at college and the anticipation of starting a new year with new classes rising in his chest.

His pine tree trucker cap was suddenly shoved down in front of his line of sight, which jolted him from his thoughts, “Hey!” He whined, fixing the hat back to its proper place and brushing the hair from his eyes.

His twin sister grinned at him, giggling at his reaction, “Sorry, couldn’t help it bro. I have to let my energy and excitement out somehow!” She poked his arm as she danced around him.

Dipper laughed, “Okay, okay, how about you direct that energy into unloading your stuff from the car?”

Mabel patted Dipper’s shoulder thoughtfully, “Check-in isn’t for another five minutes, I got plenty of time.”

“You have four large bins, a mini-fridge, one suitcase full of sweaters, two suitcases full of other clothes, and another with dorm decorations,” he raised his eyebrow, “And...I’m pretty sure you have a duffle bag full of just gummy candy.”

Mabel shrugged, “Gummy koalas supply more energy.” Despite her words, she did start unloading her college bags into her moving cart, occasionally plopping a gummy candy into her mouth. Mabel pulled out a bag of stickers from her suitcase and smacked a glittery rainbow on one of Dipper's plastic bins, "BAP! Now your bin is stylish!"

"It's already stylish," Dipper smiled as he pointed to his bin. It already had a 'California' and 'film student' sticker on it. He shook his head and continued to unload his bags.

It was their second year in college at a well-known university in Los Angeles. The twins had always wanted to attend college there and as fate had it they were both accepted. They were also thrilled that they could experience college together as they had with middle and high school. Sometimes having your sibling around during new adventures was better than any best friend or significant other. Mabel was a second-year fashion and design student while Dipper was majoring in film and media studies. The kid dreamed of starting some kind of ghost hunting show or something that covered the supernatural. After spending their summers in Gravity Falls, where they were constantly exposed to the supernatural, Dipper became obsessed.

Dipper waved his hand towards his face as he began to sweat, “Gosh, why did our move-in date have to be one of the hottest days of the year?”

Mabel nodded, thankfully she had a loose, white cropped tank top on. It definitely helped with the heat. “Global warming. It’ll only get worse.” She frowned sourly, carefully setting her sweater suitcase in the cart.

Dipper nodded and handed her the car keys, “Hey, lock the car once you’ve got everything in your cart. I’m going to check into my dorm and start unpacking. I’ll say hi to Nick for you.” Dipper smiled at her and she responded with a salute.

Nick was a close friend from Dipper’s friend group he joined last year. They had similar majors and enjoyed many of the same tv shows, hobbies, and books so they decided to room together this year despite the common belief that ‘friendships get ruined that way'. There wasn’t really anyone else to live with anyway. And random roommates were a hit or miss.

As Dipper pushed his cart along the path to the dorm he happily took in the view around him. The college was pretty gorgeous with its Greek-like yet modern-style buildings. The pathways that led to the halls and dorms were surrounded by open green spaces. Most students liked to study there or just relax with friends. The large trees were also a nice touch. Dipper inhaled deeply; it reminded him of Oregon.

He came up to a long, modern-looking building that was around five stories tall. Vines crawled up the sides of the walls and some trees stood around the perimeter. ‘Smith’ was etched on the entrance. The brunette smiled up at it and proceeded to walk inside. Thankfully a gust of AC greeted him, much better than the outside heat. A young woman, either Dipper’s age or a year older, hurried over to him with a wide smile. She had highlighted brown hair pulled back in a ponytail and long eyelashes. The woman wore a blue shirt with loud yellow words, reading ‘Student Coordinator Team’ and carried a clipboard, probably full of welcome sheets or something of that matter.

“Hello there! I’m Annie, a student coordinator, here to help you with move-in! Can I get your last name?”

Smiling politely, Dipper nodded, “Pines. Dipper Pines. Thanks, but I already know I’m in room 128 with Nick Shasta.”

The young woman flipped through the papers attached to her clipboard, soon stopping and squinting at one of the pages, “Ohh.” She sighed through her nose, “I’m really sorry, but there were some issues with roommates and dorms and Housing had to make some last minute changes.”

Dipper blinked twice, his stomach flipping, “What? Changes? Why?”

She shrugged, “They were last minute, but you are now in room 918.” She glanced at her paper as if she needed to double-check, then Annie nodded. She handed him a keycard from a box that sat on the front desk. Dipper stuttered, “I don’t get it, why was my room changed? Does Nick know? Can I change back?”

She looked over Dipper’s face, which was already red from the heat, but now more so from the unexpected news. "You can email Housing Services, I’m sure they can help explain this better than me. I’m sorry.” She gave him an apologetic look.

Dipper pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Okay, thanks. I guess. I’ll email them. Thanks.” He sucked at his lower lip, quickly pushing his moving cart past the girl and to the elevators, his head spinning.

Why a last-second change? Was Nick aware? The elevator doors opened and Dipper pulled the cart inside as he went through various scenarios in his head. His anxiety made it hard to process the situation. When the doors opened he arrived at the fifth floor. Dipper licked his dry lips and sighed. Just email Housing, text Nick. No big deal. No big deal.

Students lined the hall with their parents, unpacking their things and getting settled into their dorms. Others were chatting with friends, looks of giddy excitement on their faces. Some were crying and hugging their parents. 916...917...918. Dipper closed his eyes, trying to calm his racing mind before he met the person behind the door. Once the thoughts were as quiet as they were going to get, Dipper unlocked the door with his key car and pulled his cart inside.

The door shut behind him, closing Dipper off from the hallway. The room was larger than an average dorm room, having two twin-sized beds, two desks, two dressers, two large closets near the door, and room for a tiny kitchen area. Although one had to bring a microwave and mini-fridge. There was nice cupboard space which was a plus.

One side of the room was already set up. The twin bed was decorated in soft grey sheets, a fluffy black pillow, and a white comforter that sported yellow triangles. There were pictures hung over the wall above the bed. Some were of a group of friends and others were of odd subjects, like a random fork or tree.

Dipper turned his attention to the kitchen area. The individual had brought a mini-fridge and had decorated it in more triangles and other geometric shapes, this time the shapes were multiple different colors that formed a messy rainbow across the stainless steel door. On the person’s desk was a computer as well as a weird-looking plant, and a jar of…

“The fuck…” Dipper mumbled slowly, squinting to see if he was viewing the objects in the jar correctly.

Teeth. Different sizes and types of teeth filled the mason jar. Dipper blinked slowly, what the hell? He plopped down on the bare mattress on his side of the room and continued to observe the other side of the room as if it was a specimen itself. It wasn’t very messy, but there was an open box of Oreos and a can of beer on the dresser. Colored lights lined the sides of the ceiling and were flashing different colors. It was quite obnoxious actually.

Dipper groaned. Hopefully, he could move in with Nick after he sent an email to Housing because the person who lived on the other side of this dorm room was a freak. A freak who collected deer teeth and probably got drunk every night.

The dorm room door suddenly swung open and a young man lazily leaned against the doorframe as he looked over Dipper, a strange glint in his eyes. The man had different tones and layers of blonde hair, which caused it to be fluffy and stick out in random places. The freckles across his cheeks and shoulders complimented his sun-kissed skin nicely. His eyes were two different colors, one being a soft golden and the other a bright blue. Dipper didn’t have much time to take that in, because his already-stressed brain was focused on other key aspects about this guy. For one, he was wearing nothing but black shorts, not even shoes or socks. The second was that he had some nice abs. Shit, they were really nice abs. And the third, he held another jar of...something...in his hands

“I lost this bad boy in my car,” he wiggled the jar and whatever was in the inside bobbed around within the liquid solution, “took me ten minutes to find it. It was so hot outside, thought they might melt or something. Hell, I could have melted. Damn heat!” He laughed loudly which made Dipper flinch. The young man waved his hand in front of his face to cool off, “Bill Cipher by the way.”

A second later, the blonde tossed Dipper the jar. Dipper’s reflexes kicked in and he caught it in his hands, fumbling a little. He stared down at the jar to see what was inside and what was inside...stared back. The jar was full of real eyeballs.

Dipper shrieked.

[senacal]

Dr. Charles Xavier (Part 3)

Request: Continuation of @saltysebastianstan request.

Pairing: Charles Xavier x Fem Reader

Prompt: Charles and (Y/N) go out for coffee and (Y/N) has some realizations. 

Part 1 , Part 2

Warnings: Fluff 

Author’s Note: I honestly don’t know how long I want this series to be so bare with me 😬 and Sorry this took so long to get out, I had a little bit of writers block and of course my dear friend, no motivation. 

Requests Are Open!

(Not my gif)

It had been a while since Charles had felt any type of stress, sure he had been anxious recently. Who wouldn’t be anxious talking to a large group of college kids? College students could be blunt, cynical, judgmental, and assholes. Thankfully he hadn’t met many of them, the majority of the college kids who did attend his lectures either kept to themselves or ignored him altogether, it was the best possible scenario. That is until he met (Y/N). When he had stepped onto the stage that afternoon, he hadn’t thought he’d meet someone so invested in his work. While he was trying to place whose voice he was hearing, Charles made sure to answer the questions and fit it into his lecture at the same time. After all, he didn’t want to get caught. Although no one would suspect that he was a telepath, they ha no reason to. 

Somehow he knew the person behind the voice didn’t have any ill intent involving his work. How could they? Their questions were precise and specific to a field of study that couldn’t lead to a point of danger, or Charles had convinced himself that no one would use his knowledge for evil, but that was a fear he liked to ignore. Charles preferred to have a more optimistic outlook towards others because it was much more easing to think the best of someone than constantly worry about getting screwed over. But Charles could have never imagined someone as magnificent as (Y/N). 

(Y/N) was pure in mind and spirit. The benefit of Charles’s gift (other than the obvious) was his ability to sense a person’s intent. (Y/N) had raised good points when she asked why he would trust her, she didn’t know how his powers worked. How could she? She wasn’t a mutant, but that was why Charles wanted to help her. She was actively trying to understand mutants so that she could help them. Her sincerity was one of the reasons he was drawn to her, the others, well, she had an interest in his work. Most girls he spoke with were merely attracted to him because of his looks and accent, he didn’t hold it against them. He might have used those traits to pick up women before, but this time it was different. Not only was (Y/N) persistent that she didn’t like him in any other aspect than a professional relationship, she had an interest in his studies. No one had taken an interest in his work before, at least no one he was interested in dating. 

Of course, that was a moot point in the end because as he reminded himself before, their relationship was purely professional. (Y/N) wasn’t interested in him… But for a moment he could have sworn she was interested. He wished he could peek inside her mind to figure out what she thought of him, but he promised no to invade her privacy and he would keep that promise damn it. He just wished it wasn’t so frustrating. Charles was used to reading people’s minds without hesitation. It was a part of him so it was rather hard to suppress. He made a point to keep out of his friend’s minds, but he didn’t have many friends so it wasn’t too hard to remind himself. Perhaps somewhere down the line (Y/N) could become his friend if not, girlfriend.

“Professional, Charles. Stay professional,” He muttered to himself for what seemed like the hundredth time. He didn’t know what it was about her that made his thoughts keep drifting towards wanting a relationship with her, but she managed to enrapture him. It was quite frustrating, and if he was honest, stressful. That’s why he was standing in front of his full-length mirror trying to tame his hair that refused to cooperate with him. Of all days, it chose now not to stay in position. For fucks sake, he wasn’t asking for much, all he wanted was to groom it like the way he had it last night when (Y/N) seemed to take interest in his hair. That wasn’t too much to ask right? 

Charles huffed when a strand kept popping up. He had hoped not to add too much product because then his hair wouldn’t be as soft, but it looked like he’d have to.

“Wow, I don’t think I’ve seen you fuss over your hair as much as you are now. And that’s saying something,” Raven commented. She had her arms crossed over her chest as she leaned against the doorframe of Charles’s bedroom.

“Very funny, Raven,” Charles grumbled. He dragged his comb through his hair one more time. He narrowed his eyes at the offending strand of hair.

“Why don’t you just reapply that hair product thing you use? What is it, Vitals?” Raven shrugged.

“I’m trying not to overdo it,” Charles flattened the strand with his hand, which worked for a second until it sprung back up. “Maybe I’ll just start all over. Nothing is working.” He tossed his comb onto his dresser with a sigh of defeat.

“Here,” Raven approached him. She licked her hand and slid it over the strand.

“Raven!” Charles pushed her hand away, “Don’t be gross!” 

“Don’t be such a baby, it worked!” She defended. 

Charles checked himself in the mirror once more and frowned. It did work, but at the cost of having Raven’s saliva smeared on his hair. “What time is it? I think I’ll just shower again.” He checked his watch.

“That’s why I came up here, it’s 11:30, doesn’t your date start at noon?” Raven sat on Charles’s bed, bouncing in her seat, “Why is your mattress more comfortable than mine?”

“Shit. It’s not a date, but yes. I’ve got to get going, uh,” Charles patted his pockets for his keys.

“They’re on your dresser, genius. How you survive without me, I’ll never know,” Raven stood from her seat and pat Charles cheek as she passed him by, “Don’t forget your notes.” 

Charles grabbed his keys before he grabbed his briefcase. He thankfully had the brain to pack what he needed the night before. Raven might have told him to do it, but that’s not the point. 

Charles rushed to grab his coat, “Okay, Raven. I’ll be back, don’t wait up!” He yelled as he rushed out the door. He checked his watch once more and cursed. If traffic was as horrible as it was the day before, then he’d be a little late. If he could expand his mind and communicate that to (Y/N) he would. He didn’t want to disappoint her so early in their relationship. Professional relationship.

_______________________________________

(Y/N) sat in a booth at the coffee shop she and Charles had agreed to meet at. She glanced at the clock on the wall and tapped the pads of her fingers against the table. He still had another five minutes before he was late, why was she stressing? (Y/N) sighed and picked up her cup of coffee. Maybe it was the caffeine. She shrugged and took another drink anyway. It helped her headache, believe it or not, if only it didn’t worsen her anxiety.

“Would you like anything else?” A waitress asked once again.

Since (Y/N) had been there, which was only ten minutes now, the same waitress kept checking on her. Maybe she thought she was being stood up.

“I’m okay, maybe once my friend gets here. Thank you,” She paused to look at her name-tag, “Mindy,” (Y/N) dismissed with a kind smile. 

“Alright, sugar, just let me know,” Mindy smiled kindly and left her once more.

Maybe this was all crazy. Charles didn’t have to show up. He was a busy man and possibly had other people vying for his help and attention. Why should he show up to help (Y/N)? She was just some college kid he met because some girl wouldn’t leave him alone. They weren’t even supposed to meet. (Y/N) looked up at the clock again. Another three minutes till he’d be late. 

Yeah, who was she kidding? (Y/N) drank the last of her coffee. This was crazy. It was ridiculous. Why would she think anything he said was serious. He had so much better things to do than teach her about mutants and mutations. 

“Sorry, I’m late, love. Traffic was horrendous,” Charles panted. He plopped down in the seat across from her with an apologetic smile.

“You came,” (Y/N) smiled despite herself.

“Of curse I came,” Charles smiled back, he decided then that he’d do all he could to see her smile more often.

“Right, uh, did you want anything? I was just about to order another cup of coffee,” (Y/N) waved her hand hoping to catch Mindy’s attention.

“Uh sure,” Charles set his briefcase next to him.

Once Mindy came to their table, (Y/N) ordered her new cup of coffee and a chocolate chip muffin. 

“And for you handsome?” Mindy asked.

“I’ll have the same thing, thank you,” Charles smiled.

“Coming right up,” Mindy winked at (Y/N).

Charles laughed and tapped the table, “In case you’re wondering, she was thinking how lucky you were for having such a handsome date,” He teased.

(Y/N) rolled her eyes, “Don’t know if I should trust your word or not.”

“You can trust me,” Charles chuckled. He leaned back in his seat, “I’m a very trustworthy person.”

“Everyone thinks they’re trustworthy,” (Y/N) quipped. 

“That’s true I suppose, but I know you know that you can trust me.” Charles shrugged.

“What happened to not reading my mind?” (Y/N) crossed her arms over her chest.

“I don’t have to read your mind to know that,” Charles grabbed his briefcase and set it on the table, “Now, I brought the notes I thought would interest you more, though I do need to know more about your thesis or the thoughts you had.” Charles opened his case and took out his stacks of notes.

“Okay, where should I begin?” (Y/N) relaxed in her seat. She could talk business; it was easier for her, and her mind would be on her thesis and not how handsome Charles truly was. Mindy had been right because Charles was dressed nicely, but he might dress like that regularly. Plus his hair was combed to perfection, and he wasn’t hard on the eyes either.

“First, why have you taken an interest in my work? Maybe from there, we can figure out your intent.”

“Okay, When I was seven or eight years old, my parents wanted to go to the Fourth of July parade. When we were there, there was this man, I never learned his name. At first, I thought maybe he was drunk or something, but then I noticed he was injured. When I looked away for a second and then looked back at him, it was like he was magically healed. I could have been seeing things, but then someone bumped into him and he had these claws extend from his knuckles,” (Y/N) looked down at the table in thought, “At first it scared me, but then they retracted almost instantly and it was as if they weren’t there anymore. I think someone was looking for him because a group of soldiers came running in. Everyone thought they were a part of the parade, but I could tell there was something different about them. Anyway, the man tried his best to get away unseen. I don’t know what happened to him after that though. I never saw him again,” (Y/N) looked back up at Charles, “I just remember feeling sad because if anyone else had seen him, I knew something bad would have happened to him. Since then, I’ve wanted to find out anything I could so I could help any mutants who need it.”

 Charles nodded, “You’ve come to the right person then,” He shuffled through his notes, “You said you’re majoring in medicine too, correct?” 

Mindy came by with their order, placing napkins down in front of them.

“Thank you, Mindy,” (Y/N) smiled gratefully, “Yeah, my family wasn’t too happy that I wanted to study mutations. They said I was wasting my time,” (Y/N) rolled her eyes. 

“Sadly, most people will think studying mutations is a waste. I’ve had the same comments when I was in graduate school,” Charles sipped his coffee and hummed appreciatively. “In a way, the second major you have can benefit you.”

“Yeah, I was actually thinking of maybe becoming an obstetrician if the whole mutation study didn’t pan out? I might have a soft spot for babies,” She picked a piece of muffin off and popped it into her mouth.

“You could still do that,” Charles smiled, “I have some great notes on mutant pregnancy, and I’m sure mutants will feel safer with an obstetrician who is accepting of them versus a doctor who won’t understand them.”

(Y/N) bit her lip, “I hadn’t thought of that,” She grabbed the notebook she brought with her and flipped it open, “Okay, so now I know where I’m headed. Time to teach me some new things, professor,” She grinned. She couldn’t remember feeling this excited before. Okay, that was an obvious lie, but still. It was always a great feeling to have.

Charles hadn’t realized how much time had gone by while he was discussing his teachings with (Y/N). Whenever she was confused or had a comment she would speak up so she could get clarification. She was engaged in their discussion which was refreshing especially since no one has ever been this intrigued in what he had to say when it came to Charles’s work. Raven usually spaced out or pressed his nose and said “snooze.” It got annoying really fast, but he supposed Raven thought the same when he talked about his work. 

“Okay, so the potentiality of a human-human couple is slim, but not impossible? What would that mean for me? If we can’t identify that the baby is a mutant, would they be examined by a regular obstetrician?”

“In that case, yes. Unless you were assigned them as your patient there wouldn’t be much for you to do. As you said, there are no tests that will let us know if their child will have the X-gene. It’s best to play it safe in that instance. You can always assist if need be, but for this purpose, we’ll have your thesis focus on identified mutant mothers or fathers. We’ll leave the human couples alone unless specified.” Charles shuffled his papers around so he could continue to keep them in order, but still have access to the next page of notes.

“I hope I’m not being rude by asking, but… your parents, did they have the X-gene?” (Y/N) asked curiously.

“I suppose my father might have, though I couldn’t ask him to verify,” Charles looked up to meet (Y/N)’s eyes, “he passed when I was ten. He didn’t give any indication to him being a mutant though.” He shrugged.

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that,” (Y/N) spoke softly.

“It’s quite alright,  it happened a long time ago,” He ran his hand through his hair, “I do know for sure that my mother didn’t have the X-gene. Perhaps I was just special,” He teased to deflect from the topic of his family. That was something he wasn’t too keen on sharing. Only Raven knew about his family and that was only because she had come into his life while they were both still so young.

(Y/N) rolled her eyes, “keep telling yourself that Charles,” She smiled slightly but hid it behind her coffee cup. Throughout their talk, Charles would crack jokes as often as he could. It was refreshing and welcomed considering they were working. 

“What about you?” Charles asked.

“Not so special,” (Y/N) shrugged, “Human parents, human friends, human me.”

“That doesn’t mean that you aren’t special,” Charles tenderly said. He knew for a fact that she was special. She presented it in the way she spoke about her interests and how she spoke to others even if she didn’t find them very charming. She tried her best to treat everyone she met with kindness and that in and of itself was the most special thing about her. She didn’t talk down to people and she knew what she wanted. Charles knew that he wanted her but because of her strong morals, that wouldn’t happen. 

“You’re very charming, I bet that comes in handy,” (Y/N) deflected his compliment

“Oh it has its benefits,” Charles agreed. 

Instead of doing more work for (Y/N)‘ s work, she and Charles spoke casually about their lives. It was kind of comforting talking to Charles because things seemed to come easy. They talked about their childhoods and their families. (Y/N) found out how long Raven and Charles had known each other, and Charles found out how long (Y/N) had known her best friend. It was almost surprising how comfortable she felt with Charles. Just the other day she was hesitant to even be his friend, but now that she got to know him and some of his quirks, (Y/N) couldn’t be happier. Charles was funny in a witty way, he was beyond intelligent, he was a gentleman, and there was never a dull conversation with him. It helped that (Y/N) took an interest in his work.

“It’s gotten quite late,” Charles glanced at his watch, “I hope I didn’t keep you from anything?”

“Nah, (F/N) probably would have just dragged me to another party by now,” (Y/N) gathered her things together, “Thank you for taking the time to meet with me.”

“It’s no problem, really. Perhaps we can meet at my home next time? I’m sure Raven would like to get to know you better. Also, it’d probably be cozier.”

(Y/N) bit her lip in thought. What could be the harm, right? She liked Charles, and after a while, her butt did start to hurt sitting in the booth. “Yeah, that’d be nice actually.”

“Wonderful, I’ll uh- did you need a lift?” He offered, hesitant to leave her alone.

“It’s okay, I don’t live too far, remember?” (Y/N) tried to brush him off. She didn’t want to burden him with anything else. After all, he was helping her with her work.

“You’d get home faster if I gave you a ride,” Charles insisted.

“Alright, I’ll let you drive me home then,” (Y/N) agreed. 

Together they walked out of the coffee shop to Charles’s car. Once again Charles proved to be a gentleman when he opened both the store and car doors for (Y/N).  She thanked him when he was in the car. (Y/N) should have known better than to doubt Charles’s sense of direction and memory. She’d have to remember that he was powerful in his mind. Rather than being afraid of him, it only made him that much more interesting to her. (Y/N) glanced at Charles while he drove. He looked comfortable and confident in his position. (Y/N)’s heart nearly skipped a beat watching him do an everyday activity.

‘I told myself I wouldn’t get wrapped up in his charms,’ She scolded herself.

______________________________________________________________

Taglist: @dankpogue @theatreandtessa @peachykeen3502 @food-cures-all @commissioner23 @nerdcc-1701 @bittersweetsarcastocsworld

Message me if you’d like to be added to the taglist ^.^

[moeyy-writes]

Fear

Zak Bagans x Reader

Warnings: Typical investigation content (bad feelings like fear and dread, mention of violent historical events including murder), mention of violent/threatening thoughts, being negatively affected by an entity, a hint of angst here and there, brief hints of sexual activities, fluff.

Word Count: 3,294

A/N: This story just came to me randomly while I was watching the show on my day off from work. Please read the warnings carefully. This story (at least in my opinion) is a bit emotionally heavy.

My Master List

Nothing about this location felt right. The interviewees Zak had talked to earlier that day all warned the team about an entity that affects men, especially those with what they referred to as ‘strong personalities’. The moment you walked into the room called The Grand Parlor, you felt sick to your stomach, but didn’t say anything. The energy in the dusty, hundred-year-old building was thick with dread and fear. Little did you know that those feelings would follow you into the night.

As the sun went down, while you, Jay, and Billy were setting up nerve center, those feelings were coming back full-force. You couldn’t ignore the nagging feeling that something was about to go terribly wrong. And, if anything, you weren’t the one who was usually spooked. In the two years you had been a part of the team, you had quickly earned yourself the nickname of “The Debunker”. You were definitely the most skeptical of the group, and usually threw weird feelings out the window.

However, today, these feelings came on like a speeding train, and didn’t seem to be going anywhere. Now, you were able to confirm the exact same feeling in the same building for a second time. Coincidence, maybe, but unlikely.

“Y/N, is everything okay?” Jay asked quietly from beside you. Apparently, you had stilled while holding one of the X-camera cords. You cleared your throat and nodded, before picking up the X-camera in front of you.

The camera you were in charge of setting up was going in one of the main bedrooms of the manor, where the late patriarch of the family had, according to legend, murdered his young wife in cold blood. That was also the space where three other male investigators had become affected by a forceful entity. One of them even blamed an attachment from that very room for ending his marriage.

When you were filming Zak and an interviewee in that room, you had been overcome with fear, and had to pass the camera to Billy and quietly excuse yourself. That was the first time in your history on the show that something like that had ever happened to you. When Zak asked what happened, you said that you had a sudden dip in blood sugar from not eating lunch. When he kept asking questions, you kept brushing them off, even though you were terrified of what may have been happening to you.

You were stubborn, so you pressed on. You made your way to the steps that led up to the bedroom where you were going to place the X-camera. The moment you passed through the chestnut doorframe, your stomach sank even further.

“Holy shit,” you muttered to yourself as you entered the room. The air around you was electric, like there was a thunderstorm right over your head. You sucked in a deep breath and carried on, trying to find a logical explanation for the feeling in the back of your mind.

Once you placed the X-camera in its spot, you had an idea. You pulled out an EMF meter from the small bag beside the camera you turned it on. You slowly followed the walls of the room, lingering in doorways and corners of the room, searching for a live energy source. According to the owners, there was no power in the building, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t something explainable causing an electro-magnetic disturbance.

“Nothing,” you whispered in defeat as you shut off the device. How the hell was that possible. You felt like you had just shuffled over a carpet in your socks, ready to zap the next person to cross your path. Weird.

The moment you slipped the device back into the bag, you heard footsteps behind you. You spun on your heels only to find Jay standing in the doorway. Your best friend studied you, his eyes filled with concern.

“Dude, what’s happening, Y/N? You’re acting weird.” He wasn’t wrong. You felt weird, which in itself was a super foreign feeling for you. And, you weren’t exactly the stealthiest person, especially when something was bothering you.

“I-I dunno, Jay. This building has such a weird vibe to it. I feel something in here. I checked the whole room with the EMF detector, but got nothing. Zip. But I feel like a live wire.” You raked your fingers through your hair and sighed. “Not to mention the horrible feeling of dread in here. It must be from knowing the shit that went down in this room.”

“Well, we all have our locations that affect us more than others. Maybe we finally found yours?” Jay shrugged, obviously trying to calm you.

“Guess so.” You nodded, not really wanting to talk about it anymore. Your part of the set up was done. Now, it was time to gather and begin the lockdown.

As you expected, this location was absolutely alive. Aaron got a threatening EVP within fifteen minutes of starting the lockdown, and a huge bang spooked Billy enough to almost send him pummeling down the stairs. Zak even got a few voices from what sounded like the same person while using the spirit box. It was compelling stuff, but that lingering feeling of dread was still weighing on you as you sat with Jay at nerve center.

After the guys returned to nerve center for a quick break, they all went over their findings with you and Jay. You tried to debunk what they found, but this location was presenting quite the challenge. The EVPs had tone, and the voice on the spirit box spoke at least three or four times, the same voice over multiple sweeps. Even the bang came from a small room with no furniture, leaving you scratching your head.

“Guys, this place is insane,” you gasped as you leaned back in your chair. “I-I don’t have a good explanation of any on this. I mean, the bang could have been a loose floor board finally giving way, but that was really loud.” Zak grinned from his seat beside you.

“Well, babe, maybe that’s because there’s something or someone haunting this place,” Zak teased. You glared over at him, then rolled his eyes.

“I can see that, Z.” You narrowed your gaze, then nudged his arm playfully.

“See, your weird feelings were right!” Jay announced, causing you to freeze. You hadn’t said anything to the others about your feelings about the place, and you honestly didn’t want them to know. You wanted to find a good reason behind it, and not feed into it.

You glared over at Jay, wishing he hadn’t said anything.

“Wait, what feelings?” Zak interrogated, practically leaping out of his chair. “You felt something? You?” You closed your eyes for a moment, then nodded.

“The moment I walked into the place, I felt like my stomach was flipping. Like you’re waiting for something to jump out and scare you. It’s like dread and fear, especially in that bedroom upstairs where the woman was murdered.” You met Zak’s gaze, then Aaron’s, and the rest of the crew. Even at nerve center in the RV, outside of the building, you could feel something bothering you. So, the last thing you wanted was to go back into that house.

And it was almost like Zak knew that.

“Y/N, maybe the woman who was killed in there is somehow connected to you, and that’s why you’re feeling that way.” You couldn’t disagree with him. There was no other conclusion that you could confirm, or even think of at that point. So, Zak’s next words didn’t surprise you.

“Babe, how about you come in with me and we check out that bedroom—”

“Woah, Zak! We’re in the middle of a lockdown, dude.” You rolled your eyes. Oh, leave it to the adorable Aaron Goodwin.

“No, Aaron, I’m serious. The woman was murdered in that room. Maybe she’ll reach out to another woman. If a bunch of men go in there, she might feel threatened and not want to reach out.” You didn’t really want to do this, but you knew at this point you had no choice. Plus, if the spirit of the woman was in that room, she may reach out to you, and that may lead to some amazing evidence.

“Fine,” you sighed. “Let’s go.” Zak grinned, pushed his glasses back up his nose, then led the way out of the RV.

Billy stood in the doorway filming Zak and you as you both stood in the bedroom. Your stomach swirled and flipped while you held the spirit box in your hand. The echoes of the rapid sweeps filled the room as you leaned against a small dresser.

“Is the woman who was killed in the room here with us?” you asked into the room. Zak stood beside the bed holding the SLS camera towards you.

“Are you still afraid? Even now that you’ve died?” The sweeps continued without voices. “Because I can feel that fear. The fear you felt. And I’m sorry you feel that way.”

“He’s here.”

The female voice came through quickly, but clearly. Your arms filled with goosebumps the moment those words entered the air.

“Who is here?” you shouted over the echoing noise.

“Him.”

The voice came through as a low growl. You jumped back a little, then peered up at Zak.

“What the fuck was that?” you gasped, keeping your eyes on Zak. The feelings you had from the beginning were now plaguing you tenfold, and you were almost positive you were going to puke. You felt like you needed to get out of the room immediately. It almost felt like something was coming after you and you needed to run for your life.

“Zak, I need to leave. I can’t be in here anymore,” you rasped, starting to panic. “I can’t breathe.” You turned for the door, but were met by the broad chest of your boyfriend blocking your path. You stared up at him, barely able to see his face through the faint light that came through the window.

“Dude, what are you doing?” Billy asked from the other side of the doorway. He held the camera up, but the barely visible look on his face was wrought with concern.

Your heart galloped in your chest as you reached up and pressed a firm hand on Zak’s chest. Something was affecting him, and you knew you needed to get the two of you out. You swallowed the immense fear that overcame you and focused on getting through to Zak.

“Zak, please let me leave.” You stared up at the faint features of his face. He didn’t move, didn’t say a word. His brow was lightly furrowed behind the frames of his glasses, and his eyes were cold. You held your hand firm against Zak’s chest and lifted your head up ever so slightly, asserting yourself.

“Whoever if affecting Zak, you need to leave him alone. I’m not afraid of you. We aren’t afraid of you. You can’t bully people anymore.” You watched as Zak’s face contorted slightly behind his respirator mask. He released a low groan from deep in his chest.

“Leave me alone!” he shouted to whoever was affecting him. Your theory was that it was the man who committed murder in the room, who was mad that there was another woman in there. He may have attached to Zak knowing that you two were a couple. He was probably mad that a woman was standing up to him. And you sure as hell weren’t going to back down.

“Y/N, I need to get out of here,” Zak almost pleaded as he turned away from you and took a step towards Billy. There was still something very wrong, but you let him go, hoping that once he left the building he would be okay. Billy moved to the side, allowing Zak to leave, then ran back in to collect the SLS camera from the bed where Zak had dropped it. You turned back to the dresser where you had left the spirit box so you could turn it off.

“Leave here.”

You froze in place, feeling Billy peering over your shoulder. He gasped as the female voice spoke those words. Your eyes filled with tears as you began to speculate. The woman was trying to protect you.

“They want us to leave,” Billy concluded. They didn’t have to tell you twice. You quickly turned off the spirit box, then booked it out of there with Billy on your heels.

Zak sat in the RV beside Aaron with his head in his hands. Without even looking at his face, you could tell he was close to tears as he sat hunched over on one of the chairs. You approached him, noticing Aaron’s hand on his shoulder.

“Hey,” you breathed as you crouched down in front of him and rested your wrists on his knees. “Zak, talk to me.”

Of course he was upset that he was affected by a spirit. He was usually emotional and drained after something like that. But this time, he seemed way more upset than drained. You reached up to peel one of his hands from his face.

“Zak, tell me what’s going through you head right now.” You had grown very accustomed to soothing the team members after something scary like this, being the one who was usually settled at base camp. Even the fearless leader needed comforting after a long night. But, he had never been affected while having you as the target of his rage.

“When we were in that room, I got these horrible flash images of violence and rage.” He sighed, lowering his other hand, but not looking at you. You took the other hand in yours, trying your best to keep from shaking yourself.

“What kind of images, Zak? Were they violent? Towards me?” Zak just nodded his answer, making you feel sick again. It had to have been the man who murdered his wife in that room. You were positive. And you knew he was thinking the same thing.

“I stood there and I just wanted too—” He sucked in a breath, very clearly trying to hold back tears. “I wanted to snap your neck.”

“Woah, dude,” Aaron gasped from beside Zak. He rubbed gentle circles into his best friend’s shoulder. “It was that man putting those images in your head, man. It wasn’t you.” You nodded in agreement, then peered back to Zak, who was now looking at you. His eyes were red and glassy with tears that threatened to fall.

“It made me think of hurting you. It made me want to hurt you. To kill you.” Zak started to shake his head. “I’ve never even thought I could ever imagine hurting you. And just seeing that so vividly in my head—” Zak lowered his head again. Tears finally broke through, landing on the dark fabric of his pants.

“Hey, it wasn’t you, love,” you whispered to him as you squeezed both of his hands. “I know it wasn’t. That’s why I confronted him. I needed to stand my ground.” Zak shuddered and closed his eyes.

“I don’t ever want to think about hurting you again. I want those thoughts to go away. I want that sick fucking feeling to go away.” Zak grit his teeth, then relaxed.

You tilted your head, trying to recapture his gaze. “Zak, look at me.” He slowly lifted his head. “Those weren’t your thoughts. I know you would never hurt me.” Your palm gently met his cheek. The sparse stubble tickled your skin.

“That was so fucked up,” he breathed out, finally offering you a ghost of a smile. You returned the gesture and leaned your forehead against his.

“Guys,” you announced to the room, “I think we’re done for the night. It’s almost five in the morning. Do you mind giving us some space?”

“Yeah, we’ll go take down the equipment,” Jay responded, before heading for the door. The others followed him out, leaving you alone with Zak.

You pulled your head back a little, staring into the haunted blue eyes before you. Zak was rarely this vulnerable, so whatever he saw in his mind must have really gotten to him. He was normally a bit protective of you, happy that you preferred to be at nerve center most of the time. That’s where you could see everything as it happened and would be able to debunk it quickly. When you did go in on an investigation, you were usually with Jay or Aaron in a place where there weren’t as many violent occurrences.  

So, this whole thing was way out of both of your comfort zones. And, you could tell that Zak felt guilty for sending you in.

“Zak, I love you. Please don’t be upset about all of this. None of this was your fault.” You cupped his jaw in your hands. “I agreed to go in with you, despite how I felt about the place. And, you didn’t hurt me. You may have imagined it, or thought about it, but you didn’t hurt me. Even though you were strongly affected, you didn’t even touch me.” Zak nodded lightly, covering your hands with his. “I know it sounds cheesy and ridiculous, but it must have been your love that kept you from being fully affected by this horrible entity. And, well, that means a heck of a lot to me.”

Zak huffed a laugh and smiled. “Yeah, the power of love. Cheeseball.” You both giggled with each other, holding each other close. You folded your legs under you so you could kneel on the ground. Then, you leaned in, closing the distance between you and Zak.

You had been with Zak for a while now, and every kiss with him was better than the last. But, this kiss was different. A warm electricity filled you as he pulled you closer, almost clinging onto you for dear life. As cheesy as it really did sound, you were absolutely right about Zak. His deep love for you kept his mind clear enough for him to not follow through on whatever he was feeling in that room. It felt pretty darn good that Zak Bagans, the smart, handsome, and honestly a bit cocky, leader of Ghost Adventures loved you that deeply.

Zak’s lips devoured yours, like this kiss was all that was keeping you there. His hands reached for your arms, your shoulders. One finally found its home on the side of your neck, the other cradling the back of your head. He slowly guided you onto his lap, never breaking contact.

Zak broke his grip and lowered his hands to your waist, tugging you against his form. Nothing about his touch was sexual. He was desperate for closeness, as were you, pleading with each other to never let go. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders while your noses gently brushed.

With a deep sigh, Zak finally pulled away. He felt lighter, happier. You could tell that he was back to his normal self.

“How ya feelin’, handsome?” you whispered. Zak sniffled lightly and smiled.

“A lot better.” He cleared his throat. He reached up and rubbed a red mark that was left over the bridge of his nose from his respirator mask. “I never want that to happen again.”

You nodded. “Well, I don’t know if either of us can guarantee that. But, I’m here now.” You kissed the small red mark.

“I love you,” he muttered under his breath. You ran your fingers through his hair, then stood, extending a hand.

“I love you too, Zak.” He took your hand and stood. “C’mon, let’s go help the others.”

Thanks for reading. Feedback is appreciated! <3

[simplybakugou]

Our Little Secret

↝ Only a few months into your new relationship with one of your closest friends, you and Kaminari try your hardest to hide your secret from your friends who seem to see that something’s up.

BINGO SPACE: Movie Marathon

⋆ PAIRING: kaminari x reader ⋆ WARNINGS/TAGS: just some kaminari fluff :) ⋆ WORD COUNT: 1752

A/N: is this another @bnhabookclub bingo piece? Yes because i’m just trying to write as many as i can before the deadline. this is my second time writing for kaminari and i’m still trying to get used to writing for his character so again please forgive me if this was ass. thank you to the anon who requested kaminari for this prompt!

FULL BINGO MASTERLIST

✐posted 07.28.2020✐

“Will you hurry up already? You know those idiots are going to start the movie without us if we’re late!” Mina exclaimed by the doorframe of your room, her pillow and a blanket in each arm as she was patiently waiting for you.

“I’m coming, I’m coming,” you replied, grabbing your own things and making your way out. “You don’t have to shout.”

Mina playfully rolled her eyes as you both made your way out and turned the corner. “Please, you love me no matter how much I annoy you.”

You grinned. “You’re not wrong.”

Finals had just ended for the students in U.A. High and you and your friends were more than ready to laze around and relax for a change. You had worked your ass off in order to get a decent grade so you definitely knew that you wanted to spend some quality time with your friends to get your mind off of how stressful exam season can be.

“What took you guys so long?” Sero asked from the common area of the dorm building. 

Mina dropped her pillow down onto the ground, looking up at you. “Hm, I wonder why…”

You stuck her tongue out at her, placing your own pillow and blanket to the floor by the sofa. Kirishima, Sero, and now Mina were getting the movie ready and Bakugou was sitting on the sofa behind you. You turned to him, raising your brows at him in shock. “I’m surprised you’re here, Bakugou. Don’t you usually go to sleep at this time?”

Bakugou scoffed at you, his eyes glaring forward to the TV screen. “Exams are over so I can do whatever the fuck I want. Plus I’m not staying for long, not when you dumbasses are gonna drive me insane for the whole movie.”

“Oh, come on, Kacchan, you know you love hanging with us!” Kaminari piped up, entering the common area. He plopped down onto the sofa beside Bakugou, throwing his arm over his shoulder to which Bakugou, who was almost disgusted, pushed him off. He rose to his feet, sitting on the sofa on the opposite side to get away from his annoying friend.

You giggled as Kaminari dropped his pillow beside you on the floor. “Way to drive him away, Kami.”

“I didn’t want him so close to us.” He sat himself down beside you, resting his arm on the sofa which so happened to be right by your shoulders. “And I told you to call me Denki.” His voice was lowered as he whispered into your ear, sending shivers down your spine.

You shoved his shoulder lightly. “You know I can’t say that, everyone will catch on.”

With your time in U.A. you had made many friends within your class. Kirishima, Sero, Bakugou, Mina, and Kaminari clicked with you immediately, especially since all of you had a common goal of irritating Bakugou as much as you possibly could. The closer you became with your friends, you grew even closer with Kaminari. He never failed to brighten your day, making you laugh and laugh till your stomach hurt. Somewhere along the way you developed feelings for him and he did as well for you and he managed to smooth talk his way into asking you out. 

It had only been a few months since you had started dating Kaminari but you decided to keep the relationship a secret. Dating within friend groups can be weird, especially since most people don’t want to date their friends in fear of ruining the relationship or making things awkward for everyone in the group. You were fearful that your friends would treat you and Kaminari differently, not to mention it hadn’t been long since Kaminari asked you out and you wanted to test the waters out first before breaking it to everyone.

Initially Kaminari couldn’t understand why you wanted to keep your relationship a secret and he knew you better than to believe you were doing so because you were ashamed to be dating him or anything. But as time progressed, he enjoyed having private and intimate moments with you while no one realized what was going on. You’d sneak kisses in the locker room when no one was looking or even hold hands behind your friends’ backs while walking to the dorm building. It was nerve wracking but also exhilarating at the same time.

“And what’s wrong with that?” Kaminari asked, leaning his face in closer to yours.

You became flustered from the proximity of his body with your own, your eyes darting over to make sure your friends weren’t watching. Bakugou was scrolling aimlessly through his phone and Kirishima, Sero, and Mina were still preoccupied with setting up the TV to notice. Nevertheless, you jabbed your elbow to his side as a warning. 

“We got it ready!” Mina exclaimed, settling onto her spot on the floor.

“About time. Why’d it take all three of you to start a movie?” Bakugou said curtly.

“Oh, come on, man, you don’t have to be like that,” Kirishima said lightly, sitting down next to him.

“Which movie are we on now?” You asked Sero who sat on Kaminari’s other side.

“‘Thor: The Dark World,’” Sero responded. You and your friends decided to go on a Marvel movie marathon, wanting to watch all the movies in chronological order since the release of the last Avengers movie.

“This movie fucking sucks,” Bakugou muttered as the first scene played.

“Well it’s still a Marvel movie so we’ve got no choice but to watch it,” Kirishima replied.

The movie continued to play and Bakugou was right: the movie wasn’t as good as the other movies in the franchise. Sero and Kaminari’s snide remarks in between the movie made the experience more enjoyable but in the middle Bakugou decided to go back to his room as he became tired while watching. Sero, Mina, and Kirishima grouped together, adding their own commentary as the movie progressed.

You were sitting up, your pillow against the bottom of the sofa holding you upright with the blanket draped over your body and Kaminari’s arm snaked around your body, pulling you closer to him. You swatted at his hand, glancing over to your friends who were fortunately preoccupied with the screen to pay attention to the tomfoolery occurring behind them. 

“Denki, you can’t,” you hissed as your voice fell to a whisper.

“But I can,” Kaminari urged, using his other hand to lift your chin up so that your eyes were staring back into his golden ones. “I like seeing you panic like that. It’s cute.”

You narrowed your brows at him, standing to your feet. “I’m gonna get some water from my room,” you announced to your friends who nodded, not bothering to look back at you.

Kaminari watched as you walked away and gave him a look that practically said “come and follow me” to which he nearly jolted to his feet. He didn’t bother uttering an excuse like you had, simply making sure his friends weren’t paying attention to him, which they weren’t.

You walked down the hall and stopped right outside your room, turning around and facing Kaminari who was right on your tracks. He didn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around your waist, guiding your body against the wall so he was hovering right over you. “God, you look even cuter like this than you did over there.”

You rolled your eyes at his comment, hooking your arms around his neck. “Just shut up and kiss me, will you?”

You didn’t have to tell him twice as Kaminari urgently brought his lips down to yours, pulling your figure closer to him as your lips moved against his. Your heart was beating out of your chest and you were convinced your boyfriend could feel the rhythm of your heart as your chests were pressed against each other.

At this point in your relationship you felt comfortable with revealing it to your friends but something about the secrecy of it all made you feel a rush of adrenaline. Especially in moments like these where small moments could leave you hot and bothered. You desperately wanted to focus on Kaminari and only Kaminari, completely forgetting that you were quite literally out in the open.

“What the fuck?!” You and Kaminari pulled away from each other, eyes widening at the sight of Bakugou distraught at the sight of two of his closest friends making out with one another right in front of him. You wanted to mentally smack yourself, forgetting that your room was right across from his.

“You idiots are dating?” Bakugou asked, blinking rapidly as he looked between you and Kaminari.

“Yeah… we’ve been dating for three months now,” Kaminari said, rubbing his neck as he laughed sheepishly.

Bakugou didn’t say anything, a disgusted look on his face. “What’s wrong?” you asked.

“It’s just fucking weird… that you two managed to hide something from us, especially since dunce face is the biggest dumbass I know.”

“Dude, that’s just rude!” Kaminari whined, glaring at his friend.

“So… are you going to tell the others?” You asked, wanting to know exactly what Bakugou was going to do from here.

“Honestly I want to fucking gouge my eyes out so I don’t ever have to see that shit again. I just wanted some water and I got to see you two shove your fucking tongues down each other’s throats. I don’t give a damn what you do as long as I got nothing to do with it,” Bakugou said plainly, walking past you and Kaminari to the water fountain.

You both watched Bakugou as he proceeded down the hall, chuckling as his shoulders quaked as he was visibly shuddering due to the ordeal he encountered. 

You poked your boyfriend’s stomach. “This is what happens when you can’t keep your hands to yourself.”

Kaminari smirked as he looked back at you. “I didn’t hear you complaining though, did I?”

You rolled your eyes as you began to laugh. “Guess our little secret’s been found out.”

Kaminari laughed along with you. “To be honest, I don’t know why we had one in the first place.”

Needless to say, you and Kaminari decided from that moment on to share your hidden relationship with the rest of your friends. All the times you spent sneaking around would come to an end but at the end of it all, you couldn’t remember why you kept your relationship a secret in the first place.

If you’d like to be added to my taglist, please join here!

Taglist: @pinkcowgirleggpanda @xtsundere-princess @wesparklebitch @hot-pocket01 @iamthe-leaf @ahrinine @kirisclementine​ @happygalaxymilkshake​ @hookedinto-fictionalworlds​ @entraptas-kid-sister​ @icy-hot​ @lmaobroccoli​ @anastar-legion​ @lowermoons​ @mykuronekome​ @susu-chan​