#reblogging because I got caught up last night and holy hell

[toruro]

love you twice — j. wonwoo x reader — part one

pt.1 pt.2 pt.3 pt.4

description: in which your extremely hot and sexy one night stand turns out to be your son’s teacher. naturally, chaos ensues, but you might just find love as your life continues to take an unexpected turn.

“so, you’re just going to pretend like you aren’t avoiding me?” wonwoo asks with a brow raised, pointing an accusing finger in your direction. heat flourishes at the tip of your ears as you turn away from his gaze. “i’m not avoiding you mr. jeon,” you mutter, suddenly realizing you’ve just been caught in his trap. he takes a step forward and you back up against the wall as he leans in so his lips are ghosting your ear. "really?" wonwoo murmurs, "because i think you're lying." you both stay like that for a few moments before coming to your senses. he steps away with a heavy breath. "i'm sorry. you can get going if you—" you aren't sure what possesses you in that moment but you just can't allow him to finish what he's saying, grabbing him by the collar and slamming your lips on his.

tags/warnings: sexual content (18+), first-grade-teacher!wonwoo, mother!reader, fluff, angst (light), reader is jun's cousin, dirty talk, sexual tension, tension in general lol, unedited

w/c: 6.7k

a/n: this thought came to mind like once and i just *had* to write it because oh my god???? i hope u like reading this as much as i liked writing it! please reblog and like if you enjoyed, it would mean the world to me c:

“Fuck, yeah,” the pretty man above you grunts into your shoulder as he fucks into you, the drag of his fat cock against your gummy walls having you writhe in pleasure under him. Your fingers reach up and claw at his back, and if the digging of your nails into his skin is hurting, his only response is another deep, guttural groan of pleasure.

“Oh, fuck!” you cry out when his thick tip is hitting that one spot which has your toes curling, throwing your head back into his mattress, weakly bringing your hips up to try and sync with his thrusts, encouraging him to go deeper, harder. “Right there—right—ah! There!”

He continues to batter his length into you after your pleas, muttering out words of praise—“good girl—fuck—holding me so tight, so good,” and the words are going through your ears and straight down to your hot, sopping core because holy hell this man is amazing at dirty talk.

You’re so fucked through that you can’t even remember how you ended up here—all you know is that you were finally left with a free night when your cousin offered to take care of Kei for the night when you expressed the need to have just a little time to yourself. The last thing that comes to your mind at the moment is how you were at a club and somehow managed to end up here, in the bed of an extremely attractive man who seems to know exactly what to do with his mouth, his hands, his dick.

It’s a passing thought that the shame will hit you eventually, but right now all you can think about is how long it’s been since you got laid and how you never, ever remember sex feeling this good. You aren’t sure if it’s just this guy that is amazing or if you’re just really needy and desperate but—oh fuck, he’s slamming into you so hard and there’s that pulse that rumbles deep inside of your core and it has you moaning loud. Okay so, it’s definitely the fact that he might be your best lay pretty much ever, and it has you squirming around as you babble, “‘m gonna cum—I—fuck, I’m cumming!”

The waves of hot, white pleasure hit you hard and it has tears welling up in your eyes as you feel him let out his own moan from the way you’re squeezing him so tight, the feeling of his warm cum filling up the condom as he thrusts into you a few last times. You two stay like that for a moment, his hands on either side of your head holding his body above yours, as you both inhale and exhale deeply trying to catch your spent breath.

After a minute, he’s pushing himself off of you and off the bed, pulling off the condom to throw it out without a word. You take this as your cue to get up and start picking up your clothes, squeaking a little as a dull ache resides in your legs. You catch him looking at you at the sound, and you swear there’s a hint of a smirk on his face, but in the dark of the room you can’t quite tell. As you lean down to slip on your panties, he finally speaks.

“You can use my shower, even if you don’t plan on staying.”

You glance up at him with a chuckle, saying, “You like keeping your one night stands over for breakfast? What a gentleman.” He rolls his, pulling on some pants as he does so.

“Is there something wrong with being hospitable to someone who looks like they can hardly walk?”

“I suppose not,” you hum, ignoring the flush of your cheeks at his sly comment. “I appreciate the offer, but I have to get home—I have someone waiting for me,” you explain, a small smile creeping its way onto your face as you think about Kei. He looks at you for a second, a confused and honestly slightly mortified expression donning his face. Your eyes widen as you realize what that must have sounded like, and you throw up your hands and shake your head. “I don’t mean it like that—I—fuck—I’m not cheating on anyone! I meant something else!”

He gives you a funny look, replying, “I’ll choose to trust you on that, for the sake of my own sanity. I wouldn’t want to know that I’m the cause of a failed marriage or something.”

You grumble as you pull on your shirt, checking your pockets and purse to see if there’s anything missing. “No failed marriages here,” you laugh, tone slightly bitter before you brush it off. “Anyways, you should choose to trust me because I am telling the truth,” you counter as he watches you make your way to the exit. “I guess it doesn’t really matter, since I probably won’t see you again.”

“Too bad,” he grins as you approach his apartment’s door, slipping on your shoes. “That was fun.”

You inwardly bite your cheek at his shamelessness, looking away. “Yeah, yeah, you’re right, I guess,” you huff nonchalantly. “Anyways, thank you for this night. I kind of really needed this,” you admit, and then you’re slipping out of the door before he even has a chance to respond.

When you return to your apartment, you’re greeted by Jun at the door, lips somewhat in a grimace as you find Kei asleep in his arms. “Sorry, he kept saying he wanted to wait for you and he wouldn’t go to sleep so I tried to put on some show for him but then he fell asleep on my lap but I didn’t want to move until you came back,” he explains as he braces Kei under the arms so he can hand him over to you.

“Aw,” you murmur, pressing a kiss to your son's forehead as you look up at Jun. “Thank you so much for this, Jun, it really means a lot.”

He brings a hand up to the back of his neck and chuckles, waving his hand at you. “Don’t worry about it. I know you needed this,” he says, following you to your bedroom to help you set up the bed for Kei. “I got him to brush his teeth and all, so all that stuff is in set. Is there anything else you need help with?” he offers as you finish up tucking Kei into bed, walking out of the room as you shut off the lights.

“No, I think it’s okay,” you tell him honestly, leaning against the kitchen counter to catch up with Jun for a few minutes.

“Okay well, d’you have fun?” Jun asks, and he doesn’t give you the chance to respond before saying, “Seems like you did,” he snickers, pointing to your neck. Your hands fly up to your neck with wide eyes as you remember that your fuck buddy for the night was quite literally all over you.

“Whatever,” you respond with a roll of your eyes, “it’s just one night, and I swear I just needed to let loose a little.” You sigh deeply, and Jun sends you a look of sympathy.

“Everything alright?”

Your shoulders slump as rest your weight on the counter, leaning into Jun has he wraps a shoulder around your arm comfortingly. "It's just—ugh—Kei is starting first grade in two days and I just...I don't know how to feel."

"That makes sense," Jun agrees, "but it's good that he got into that school you'd been trying to get him into, right?"

"Yeah," you sigh again. "Fuck, that was really hard—I had to beg that principal to let him in 'cause they were full and it was a pain in the ass, but it is a really good school so I guess it makes sense." Jun hums in response, encouraging you to go on. "I guess it's just that I'm worried for him? It's only been me and him, you know, so I'm nervous. I know it's a good school, I just hope he's gonna be in good hands."

"Trust me, Kei is an amazing kid, so he'll be able to thrive anywhere. And if the school isn't up to your liking, you always have the option of transferring him out—after all, he's only in first grade so switching schools shouldn't be a problem," Jun explains to you, leaving your side to bring you a glass of water.

"Thank you," you say honestly as you gulp it down. “I think I needed that.”

“No problem. Is there anything else you want to talk about? You know I’m always open ears.”

You throw Jun a smile as you push yourself off the counter. “Yeah, I know, and I appreciate you for that, but honestly, all I need right now is to change into my pajamas and crash into the bed,” you tell him as he slips on his shoes at the doorway, picking up his backpack.

“Alright, alright. Let me know if you need any help or anything. I’m gonna get going now.”

“Thank you again,” you say as you open the door for him. Jun smiles and waves at you, bidding goodnight before he’s walking down the hallway and out of your sight. Once you close the door behind you, you waste no time getting into your bathroom and rinsing your body off, slipping into a much more comfortable set of clothes.

It's around ten minutes later when you're finally done with cleaning yourself and the room up one last time before crawling into the bed next to Kei. As you pull the covers over you both, you feel the exhaustion from the entire day fully engulf you, and before you know it, you're being thrown into a deep slumber.

The next day is Sunday and you spend each minute biting your nails and stressing over anything and everything. Kei’s going to be going to an actual school for the first time ever tomorrow and you can’t help but notice a buzzing instinct that something—just something—unexpected will happen. You can’t quite place your suspicions on something just yet, but the thoughts have you going crazy to the point where you have to call Jun in the night so he can calm you down.

“What if—what if—?” your frantic thoughts are cut off by Jun.

“Okay look I know you’re stressed but maybe you’re making this harder on yourself than it needs to be. You’ve thought of everything and like maybe 0.01% of the scenarios are actually even feasible, so trust me when I say nothing’s going to go wrong.

“But what if—”

“No what if’s!” Jun exclaims exasperatedly, “or else I’m going to come and take Kei to school myself tomorrow because god knows you’re not in the right mind right now.”

“Okay! Okay! I’ll stop!” you surrender in defeat, sighing as Kei comes up to you to show you a drawing he made. “I’m gonna get back to making dinner, Jun,” you say through the phone before squatting down.

“Okay, talk to you later. Try not to lose your mind,” Jun advises, causing you to chuckle as you hang hup, turning your full attention to your son.

“Hey Kei-Kei,” you say sweetly, patting his head as he looks down at the paper in his hands. “What’cha have there?” you ask curiously, scooching closer as he holds up the paper.

“It’s the new school, Mommy,” he explains, holding up a colored drawing of a school and a stick figure of you with an (adorably) abnormally large head holding the hand of a stick figure of him. “An’ there’s you an’ there’s me!”

Your heart swells as you stand up holding the paper, using a magnet to put it up on the fridge. “I love it Kei, you’re such a good artist!” you exclaim, swooping down to pick him up. “You excited for school tomorrow?”

“Yeah!”

“Your teacher’s name’s gonna be Mr. Jeon okay? That’s what the principal told me,” you tell him carefully, setting him down at his elevated seat at the dinner table. “Be nice to him okay? You need to respect teachers.”

“Yes Mommy,” Kei nods along enthusiastically as he watches you go to the kitchen and bring him some rice and curry.

“You remember the plan? I’ll drop you off but I don’t think I can stay long enough to go with you inside ‘cause I have work, okay?” Kei only half-mindedly nods his head as he dives into the food that you’ve set for him, but you don’t have the heart to blame him—after all, this is probably the fifth time you repeated this to him today. “I’ll be there right after school ends though,” you tell him, reminding yourself of the parent-teacher meeting Kei’s teacher had arranged to introduce himself to the parents.

“Okay,” Kei responds, his mouth stuffed with rice and curry smeared on his chin. He looks up at you innocently and you can’t help but giggle, his smile washing all your worries away.

As you clean up his face, you remind yourself of Jun’s words from earlier. Everything’s going to be okay.

And for the most part, everything is okay. In fact, everything’s going great, from Kei’s smooth drop off at his new school, to when you set foot on campus with five minutes to spare before the teacher meeting. There’s a big fat grin plastered on your face as you realize that maybe your hunch that something was going to go wrong was nothing more than that—just a hunch.

Now this is the part where you think you should have known better.

Once the final school bell rings, there are students rushing out of classrooms as you among a few other parents gather around the room that is 103, waiting to see your children and their teacher. As you all form in a line by the door, there’s a slightly older woman standing next to you wearing a kind smile.

“Are you here to see Mr. Jeon?” she asks you. Her warmth grows on you as you smile and nod.

“Yes! I assume you are too?”

“Mhm,” she nods, “I’ve been so excited! He’s a fairly young teacher, you know?”

“Is that so so,” you murmur, “my son is new to the school and all, so we aren’t really familiar with any of the teachers. Does Mr. Jeon have a good reputation?”

The lady shrugs. “I’ve heard he’s quite good with the kids, but I’d hope he was since he’s a first grade teacher…” she jokes. “I haven’t heard anything bad about him, if that’s what you’re asking. What I have heard though, is that he is quite nice to look at!”

You let out a small chuckle at that, amused by the idea of a man who has the parents of his students gossiping about his looks.

“Oh!” the lady exclaims, straightening her back. “Looks like they’re about to come!”

You peer over the shoulder of the father of another student in front of you, watching as the door opens slowly and a rush of Kei-sized children run out. Your smile brightens as your eyes land on your son, calling out his name so that he can run up to you and into your lifting arms. Picking him up, you have time to observe the obvious grin he has plastered on his face, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

“Hey Kei-Kei,” you say sweetly. “How was your first day of school?”

“It was so much fun Mommy! Mr. Jeon says he’s gonna talk to all of you,” he said, pointing at all the other adults greeting their kids.

“Yeah, that’s right!” you tell him, setting him down. You’re about to say something else before you hear a deep, familiar voice—it hardly takes you a second to realize who it is, and you freeze in your tracks. Your face grows pale as you brace yourself for what you’re about to see and hear—you’re lucky you’re standing in the back so he can’t see you and the million thoughts that are evidently running through your mind..

“Hello everyone, I’m glad you could make it today. I’m Jeon Wonwoo, and as you know, I’m your child’s teacher. I’m excited to start things off on a high note. You can have your child play on the playground during the meeting, since we still have our supervisors out to watch them."

Mr. Jeon. Jeon Wonwoo. Wonwoo. Him .

You should have known that your mother instincts were too accurate—the universe just had to throw you a curveball. You chew on your tongue for a moment figuring out how to handle this situation as you lean down closer to Kei, nodding to him when he looks over at you for permission to follow his newly-made friends to the playground. Taking a deep breath as you watch Kei skip away, you glance over at him , who luckily hasn’t seemed to notice you.

Straightening your back as all of the young kids happily follow each other outside, the hallway is finally only left with him and the parents. “Okay, you guys can come in, I’ve made room for you all to stand around the back since I doubt any of you will fit into your child’s chair,” Mr. Jeon jokes, and while most others laugh, there’s a pit of anxiety gnawing at your stomach that has you going stiff. He moves aside a little, making way for the parents to enter the classroom and greeting each one individually.

Suddenly your breath is caught in your throat and you glance around you, excusing yourself from the lady next to you so you can shuffle to the back of the line, pretending to look through something in your purse. You aren’t even sure what you’re trying to do, but all you know is that you just need a moment to collect yourself, your thoughts. Luck must not be on your side though, as before you know it, the last person in front of you has entered the classroom leaving you dead in your tracks and staring at Mr. Jeon , who’s eyes haven’t turned fully towards you yet.

Maybe this is your last chance to run , you think quickly, but you remind yourself that embarrassing or not, this is for Kei and you’d be damned to miss this meeting. That and the fact that maybe you’re just a little happy that you’re seeing this attractive man again and— no! You scold yourself, don’t think like that!

You shake yourself of such dirty, such inappropriate thoughts when you finally catch his eyes landing on you. That’s when you see it‚ the way his eyes widen slightly as he takes in your figure. He recognizes you, you’re sure of it. His hand is already reaching out to shake yours but it stops midway as you both take a moment to stare at each other before he’s quickly clearing his throat and looking away for a second.

“H-hi,” he says, pursing his lips together after realizing he fucking stuttered. “Nice to meet you. You must be Kei’s mother?” he asks, avoiding the fat fucking elephant in the room. You shyly reach out and shake his hand, fruitlessly trying to ignore the memory of these very fingers being plunged knuckle deep inside of you less than two nights ago.

“Um, yeah, that’s me,” you reply quieter than you want, suddenly finding it unable to meet his gaze as the pads of his fingers brush against your skin. “Nice to meet you too. Kei’s been, um, excited to start school here,” you say louder as you try to avert your attention away from what you’re both thinking about, “so I hope you can make his time here a good one.” Mr. Jeon presses his lips into a smile and you want to bash your head into the wall at how sincere he looks.

“I’ll do my best,” he says, before raising a brow and pointing toward the room. You follow his direction and stand by the other parents who are lined up at the back of the classroom, Mr. Jeon following in behind you and making his way to the front of the classroom.

From there the meeting begins, and he goes over a small presentation over the daily activities of his class, classroom expectations, and such forth. You pay attention to the best of your ability, you really do, but sometimes you find your eyes drifting away from the projector screen and toward his arms that are on show with his short sleeve shirt, your mind trailing off to a place that it definitely shouldn’t. You catch yourself quickly though, mentally reprimanding yourself and turning your attention back to the presentation.

He finishes up the meeting with a list of his contacts and you quickly bring out your phone, along with others, to list down his email and phone number (only for the reason of Kei’s education, of course). “If you have any questions, you can ask me now. If not, you’re free to go!” There’s a series of “thank you’s” that echo through the room as some approach Mr. Jeon and others, like you, shuffle out of the classroom. You can’t lie, your steps are quick and you’re nearly running out of the room so fast that you don’t catch the way his eyes linger on your back as you exit.

“He said I’m a great artist! We did some coloring and he said my flower looked really nice.”

“Well he didn’t lie,” you tell your son as you pull up to the parking lot for your apartment complex. “You are a great artist, Kei,” you say as you get out of your seat and pull your work bag with you, then help Kei get out too. “Tell you what Kei-Kei—you want to go to a restaurant tonight?”

The way his smile is so bright and infectious when he’s nodding yes has you leaning down and squeezing him into a hug as you both make your way to your apartment. The rest of the evening is spent with you cleaning Kei up and finishing up your own work—now that Kei isn’t going to full day care, you’re going to have to go to work for half the day so you can pick him up, leaving more work for you in the evenings.

Tonight, you’re determined to finish up your work quickly so you can take yourself and Kei out to dinner at some burger joint as a celebration for his first day of school. By the time you’re home, Kei is exhausted and nearly falling asleep in your arms as you carry him up. Setting him down and tucking him into bed is the last thing you do before going to the living room and sinking down into your couch, sighing out of your own fatigue.

You’d think you don’t have enough energy to think about anything else, but once you’ve cleaned up and are trudging to crash onto your bed, those thoughts are creeping up your back.

Jeon Wonwoo.

You roll around under your sheets, pressing your face into the pillow as you mumble incoherent curses. It was only a one night stand, only a casual fuck, so why are you here still thinking about him? For fuck’s sake he’s Kei’s teacher! You just can’t be having such thoughts about him! Right?

So why are you squirming under the sheets thinking about that night—the way he made you feel things you never could even imagine feeling. “Fuck!” you mutter to yourself, slamming a pillow over your head. You huff lowly, rolling over in your bed, pressing your eyes shut as you hope that if you pretend that you’re asleep hard enough, your brain will actually lull your consciousness away. And for a moment, it works—you’re asleep within a few minutes.The only downside? You may or may not be dreaming about Jeon Wonwoo.

The rest of the week is, thankfully, slightly easier on your heart. You only really go to Kei’s school to pick him and thanks to the valet system in place, you often don’t even have to get out of the car, one of the older volunteer students always helping him into your car.

Kei seems to be having the time of his life as well, always coming back home with saying something along the lines of, “Mommy, today Mr. Jeon taught us this really cool thing…” or “Mommy, Rei and I made up this new game at recess…”—least to say, you’re enthralled that he’s having a good time, and you almost forget about how his teacher haunts your thoughts every night.

It’s Friday now and as promised, you stay behind after school today so you can watch Kei play with his friends for some time on the playground. You’re on your phone, scrolling through some work emails to mentally calculate just how much you’ll have to work tonight to ensure a relaxing weekend. You're in the midst of frowning when you see a shadow approach you from the corner of your vision, although you pay it no mind. At least, not until you hear his voice.

“Hey.” It’s deep and calm and has you thrown back into those thoughts that you've been so desperately trying to avoid. You’re hyper aware of his figure next to you, and the way that his shoulders, his arms, feel so large and protective next to you is driving you fucking crazy.

“Oh,” you murmur in surprise, turning to look at him. “Hi Mr. Jeon,” you greet awkwardly, keeping a bit of distance between you two as you slip your phone into your purse, “it’s nice to see you here.”

He nods. “The feeling’s mutual,” he tells you, and although you figure it’s just a formality, the way he says it with that small smile tugging at his lips has your stomach doing tumbles. “You can call me Wonwoo, by the way.”

“O-okay Wonwoo,” you reply nervously as the air between you thickens, as if you’re both egging each other on seeing who’s going to fold first. You clear your throat before speaking again, “How’s Kei doing in your class? Is there anything I can do at home to help him?”

“Not at all. He’s a good student,” Wonwoo—god, his name sounds so nice in your head—replies almost immediately. “He’s really good at drawing, I’ve noticed.” Wonwoo notices how your face lights up at that comment, the tension on your shoulder dropping slightly as you respond.

“Yeah, he loves to draw at home. I’ve been thinking of putting him in an art class or something where he can practice and stuff,” you explain, eyes flickering over at Kei who’s sliding down some slide with another boy.

“That would be nice,” Wonwoo agrees, and once again the silence returns.

“I should get going now,” you say after a few moments, pulling your phone out to pretend like you’re checking the time. “Kei-Kei!” you call out, and it only takes a few seconds before your son is bounding down the playground and up to you as you crouch down. “Hey buddy, it’s time to go,” you tell him.

“But I wanna play Mommy!”

“Kei-Kei, please? I have to work tonight and you’ve played for almost an hour now.”

He’s frowning deeply and you find yourself almost caving in, but before you do, Wonwoo is speaking. “Listen to your mom, Kei, okay?” His voice is stern yet gentle, and the way Kei’s face softens has relief coursing through your veins.

“Okay Mr. Jeon,” Kei agrees, taking your hand as you stand up. You look at Wonwoo with gratitude.

“Thank you for that,” you say quietly, slightly embarrassed. “We’ll get going now.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Wonwoo says casually, pushing his hands into his pocket and stepping back. You’re walking away as you say bye, Kei flashing a grin at Wonwoo as he waves him goodbye. “See you later,” Wonwoo calls out to you. “Hopefully,” he adds and you swear he chuckles when he here’s you choke in shock. You don’t look back out of the humiliation that your cheeks are burning, tugging Kei along as he goes on about the new game he’s made up with his friends.

Jeon Wonwoo might just be the death of you.

The first month of Kei’s school continues to go smoothly. You don’t come across Wonwoo much after that, although that may partly be due to you avoiding him. It’s not as if you dislike him, in fact, it’s quite the opposite—you think you might like him too much.

His face, his glasses, his smile—fuck—the way he’s so kind, so gentle—you can’t seem to find a single thing wrong with him. Everyday Kei comes home babbling a new happy story about Mr. Jeon and what he taught the class, or a new compliment he gave him, and you can’t help but fall for him simply through the words of your son.

It is a little embarrassing, if you’re being honest—having a crush on a man at your big age—but you just can’t help it.

As the month progresses, you find both yourself and Kei get used to things—he seems to enjoy going to school every morning and you enjoy the happy smiles he holds when he returns. Everything seems to fall into a perfect pattern, with nothing seeming to go wrong. Well…that is, at least, until this Friday.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!” you exclaim, knuckles white as you grip the steering wheel, glancing at the time on your dashboard. Your last meeting ended up longer than you planned but you couldn’t leave, given it was with executives, and now you’re stuck in traffic as you’re already late to pick up Kei. “Ugh,” you groan out, trying to peer over the cars in front of you only to realize that you might be stuck here for a bit.

You’re slightly frantic trying to figure out what you’re going to do—any other day you would have called Jun and asked him to pick Kei up for you, but he’s on a trip with his friend so that isn’t an option right now. Chewing on your bottom lip, you glance at the unmoving traffic and pull out your phone, scrolling through your contacts. You don’t think twice before hitting the contant labeled Mr. Jeon, letting out a sigh of relief when you hear the other end pick up your call.

“Hello, Mr. Jeon?” you say quickly when you hear some shuffling on the other side. “This is Kei’s mom.”

He says your name softly before asking, “Can I help you?”

“Hi, yes, I’m really sorry, but I think Kei might be waiting for me at the valet but I’m stuck in traffic and I—fuck—” you mutter when you need to slam the breaks hard. “—sorry for my language—I just don’t know how long it’ll take for me to pick him up and I don’t want him to wait for me too long so I was hoping that there was something you could do so he could wait in the office or something—anything really—just so he can wait somewhere safer while I come,” you blabber.

Wonwoo takes a few seconds to reply, and for a moment you think you might have spoken so quickly that he didn’t hear a single thing you said. “He can stay in my room, if that’s okay with you,” he finally says, and you blink a few times.

“I—really? Tha-that’s definitely okay with me, yeah. That would be amazing, thank you so much Mr. Je—Wonwoo. Thank you,” you ramble, shutting up quickly when you hear a soft chuckle from the other side.

“Yes really. Don’t worry about it, I usually stay in the class after school anyways. You said he’s in the valet?”

“Yes, he usually waits by the tree,” you tell him, and a silence can be heard from Wonwoo as he gets up from his seat. “Thank you again, I’ll come as soon as I can.”

“No problem,” he replies, and with that you hang up, leaning back in your seat as you feel you can finally relax now.

It takes you around another 25 minutes before you’re finally pulling up to the school's parking lot, quickly making your way through the familiar route to Kei’s classroom. Knocking on the door, you peer through the small glass window, insides growing warm and fuzzy at the scene of Kei happy drawing on a desk. It takes a few seconds but then there’s a hand on the knob, opening the door for you.

“Thank you so much,” you let out before you can even see all of Wownoo’s figure.

He laughs and holy hell is it one attractive laugh (since when did you start finding laughs attractive?!). “Stop saying thank you, please,” he groans jokingly. “I might just start feeling bad. Seriously, it’s no problem, I’m usually here for a while anyway and Kei is wonderful company.”

You purse your lips, tentatively stepping into the room as Wonwoo moves for you, arm brushing against yours as you approach Kei. “Hey Kei-Kei, you wanna go now?”

Kei turns to look at you, eyebrows slightly furrowed. “But Mr. Jeon said I could play outside if I wanted!” You turn your head to look at Wonwoo, raising a brow.

“Uh, since the supervisors are still out I said he could play in a bit since I didn’t know when you were going to come,” he explains, and your gaze softens, turning back to your son.

“Okay Kei-Kei, but only fifteen minutes, okay?” you tell him, helping him clean up as Kei makes his way out the door and towards the playground. After putting his stuff away, you pick up his bag and head in the same direction as Kei to follow him, pausing when you feel a hand on your wrist.

“You can stay here, you know?” Wonwoo tells you, a smirk playing at his lips. “I don’t bite.”

You plaster a sympathetic smile through your nervousness, hastily replying, “I know, I just—I’ve already bothered you today and I think I should just head off now.”

“You aren’t bothering me.”

“Okay well,” you counter as you make your way to the door, “what if I just really want to watch my son have fun?”

“You’re really good at this, you know?”

“Good at what?”

“So, you’re just going to pretend like you aren’t avoiding me?” Wonwoo asks with a brow raised, pointing an accusing finger in your direction. Heat flourishes at the tip of your ears as you turn away from his gaze.

“I'm not avoiding you Mr. Jeon,” you mutter, suddenly realizing you’ve just been caught in his trap. He takes a step forward and you back up against the wall as he leans in so his lips are ghosting your ear. "Really?" Wonwoo murmurs, "Because I think you're lying." You both stay like that for a few moments before coming to your senses. He steps away with a heavy breath. "I'm sorry. You can get going if you—"

You aren't sure what possesses you in that moment but you just can't allow him to finish what he's saying, grabbing him by the collar and slamming your lips on his. Wonwoo’s arms fly up to your face and cup your cheeks, immediately running his tongue along your lips. The familiar taste of his tongue sliding against yours is something that you thought you wouldn’t experience after that night, but having him with you, right now, like this is enough to have your mind racing—he’s so fucking addicting that you can’t even fathom how you went more than a day without him.

Wonwoo's grasp on your face has you tilting your face, noses brushing past each other as you deepen the kiss, your fingers lacing in his thick locks to hold him close. His lips move so effortlessly against yours you'd even go as far to say you two were dancing, as you stumble back into the wall. Wonwoo presses you against the surface and you let out a gasp as he leans down, kissing you so hard and passionately that it might just suck the air out of you.

And it probably does, considering when you finally pull away from each other you’re gasping for air both from just how long Wonwoo’s lips stayed connected to yours, along with how breathtakingly amazing of a kisser he is. He looks down at you with some sort of sparkling look in his eyes and it has you weak in the knees, gripping onto his hair tighter.

He lets out a low grunt at the action and holy fuck the sound is doing things to you but then you’re both reminded of where you are and what you’re doing and then Wonwoo is stepping back as you let go of him, putting some space between you two. His glasses are slightly foggy and he takes them off to rub the moisture away on his shirt.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have—” You reach for his hand, cutting him off.

“It’s okay,” you murmur, somewhat bashful of your own actions as you look down, “We both did that so uh…don’t apologize.” Wonwoo looks up at you and then back down at your hand holding his, squeezing it comfortingly.

“Okay,” he says gently, reaching for his phone in his pocket. “Can I, uh, get your number? I only have it saved on the school phone…” he asks hopefully, looking up at you as he uses one hand to smooth his ruffled hair, the other holding up his phone in your direction.

Your lips are pressed into a tight smile as you try to hide your cheeky grin. “Of course,” you say maybe a little too quickly, punching in your digits and handing it back to him. A silence settles between you two, but it isn’t uncomfortable like before, no, it’s rather…warm now.

“I…” Wonwoo starts to admit, “…never thought I’d end up in a situation like this.” You giggle and nod your head in agreement. “But, um, I’d like to see where this goes.”

“I like the sound of that,” you reply with a smile, and it's the truth—your stomach tumbles with a good feeling that things might just go your way.

a/n: hope u liked it! i'm super duper excited for this story and was literally kicking my feet writing this so you can expect a part 2 quite soon! in the meantime, please like, comment, and reblog! send me an ask or comment if you'd like to be tagged in part 2!

pt.2

[royallyprincesslilly]

Title: Quarantine: A Love Story {15}***

Chris Evans x Reader Series

Warning: Cursing, NSFW, LOTS OF WORDS, SMUUUUT, Angst

DO NOT READ AT WORK!!

Words: 6.8k

Note: Okay, so this ask/request came in and I was all prepped to write it as a one shot, but I had so many separate ideas that sprang to mind for it and from it. As of right now, I am going to play this one by ear. Hell, I might just keep writing it as long as we’re all in our quarantine/self-isolation. So, it might be one part every week, or I might change it. I honestly have no idea, so let’s start with calling it a mini-series and see where it goes. Thank you anon for the request, hope it’s cool I tweak, twist and stretch this out.

Note: Recommended listening “Barefoot In The Park” By: James Blake feat. Rosalia. You’re welcome!

I hope you guys enjoy this. If you enjoyed this LIKE, COMMENT, REBLOG. Thank you for reading as always!!! ❤️❤️

***Loosely Edited/Proofread***

Previous Chapters:  Q1 |  Q2 |  Q3 |  Q4 |  Q5 |  Q6 |  Q7 |  Q8 |  Q9 | Q10 | Q11 | Q12 | Q13 | Q14 | 

~~~~~~~~~~~

-Quarantine: Day 55-

Groaning, you rolled on the surface you were laying on until you were on your back. With eyes closed, you could see the blinding sunlight beaming on you. Peeping your eyes open just a smidge, you quickly regretted it. Instantly you rolled back onto your stomach and groaned in the pillow. Your head was throbbing, but that wasn’t the only thing of yours that was. For a few moments, you kept your eyes closed and just relished the feel of the soft covers and plush mattress underneath you. You couldn’t have moved if you hadn’t smelled coffee and food cooking. Your brain was confused; you shouldn’t have been able to smell food all the way in the guesthouse.

 You eased up onto your elbows with squinted eyes and took in the blurry bed you were laying on. It didn’t look like the one you’d been sleeping in for the last several weeks. Looking to the right then left, you saw an abundance of wood. This definitely wasn’t the guesthouse. You rolled over and let the full brutalness of the sun bathe you. As you shielded your eyes, they were able to focus and slowly take in your surroundings. Outside the window, you could see nothing but the greenery of treetops, and to the left was a desk. That was when you paused.

 “Oh god. Tell me you didn’t, tell me you did not.”

 You looked around some more until the mess of scattered clothes on the flood caught your eye. You began to panic just a little. When you saw four opened condom wrappers across the floor, that was when you panic set in. Dropping back to the bed, you slapped your hands to your face and groaned.

 “Holy shit, I did. Oh, fuck!”

 As you brought your legs up to your chest to hover in the air, you felt the stretch and dull ache in your nether regions. You gasped and dropped your limbs back to the bed.

 “Oh—my—god.” You laid there in shock for several moments. You’d never felt morning after ache before. The only other time you did was your first few times ever having sex. You were long past a virgin now.

 You focused and tired to think about what the hell happened last night. You’d drank a lot, but it wasn’t more than usual, it was actually less. The grogginess in your brain fought back. It was as if it didn’t want you to remember. You laid there for at least five minutes, wracking your brain, forcing it to relinquish the information you needed. No matter how much you tried to push through, you couldn’t remember. Rolling to your feet, you scurried to your clothes and hurriedly dressed doing your best to ignore the condom wrappers. Before you walked out, the room curiosity got the better of you, making you look at one of the wrappers. Your eyes widened, seeing golden foil and the “XL” printed across it. Chris Evans wore an extra-large condom. You definitely wanted a minute to take that in, but the smells wafting around you told you to make your getaway.

 As you slinked down the short hall, you peeped around the corner, but the kitchen area was empty. Thinking he may have just gone back to the house, you stepped out and walked to the door. At that moment, every memory from the night before decided to come back, making you run smack dab into the glass door to fall back onto your ass.

 “Fuck!”

 A scuffle of footsteps, but you were too wrapped up in the frenzy of memories that were racing through your mind that you didn’t register much else. You remembered the conversation, remembered his confession, remembered the hottest make-out session you’d ever had on the table. Then you remembered him carrying you like you weighed nothing and him teasing you mercilessly in the bed you’d just left. Once you thought about the bed, everything became a lot more sultry. You remembered his moans, god his moans were sexy, and the whimpers were even sexier. Your body felt like it also remembered just what he’d done to you, how he’d tasted you, bit you, controlled your body only to fuck you into unconsciousness. He’d actually fucked you to sleep.

 “Holy shit!” Your eyes flew open to see Chris above you peering down with worry etched on his face.

 “Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

Your pride was definitely hurt. You’d just run into a fucking door. Groaning, you slowly sat up. Chris put his arm behind your back to brace you.

 “I’m fine.”

 “Did you just run into the door?”

 Snorting, your laughter echoed in the small space as you rubber your sore forehead. “I totally did.”

 “Yeah. Maybe you shouldn’t have been trying to sneak out in your morning-after walk of shame,” Chris teased. Again, you snorted and laughed loudly.

 “Shut up! I am not doing any walk of shame.”

 “Oh, but you are sneaking out,” Chris accused.

 He’d caught you there. When you looked at him, he didn’t look angry. The problem was you couldn’t really read his expression. Sighing, you dropped your forehead to his bare shoulder.

 “I am sneaking out,” you admitted.

 “Yeah, the question is why?”

 “At first I couldn’t remember what the hell happened, and then I saw the condoms and knew something happened, and I just remembered. I freaked out.” You lifted your head and looked to him.

 “Why? Is this something you—no longer want?”

 “Things are always different in the morning. It was just—an adjustment. This was new.”

 Chris studied you for a few moments before he nodded and looked down. He looked as if he were thinking about what he should say. You could see the question on his face before his mouth opened.

 “Do you regret last night?”

 He didn’t look up to meet your eyes immediately; his head lingered downward like he didn’t want to look in your eyes for fear of what he might see. You took the time to think about his question. Did you regret last night? It was a good question. It was a question you would have thought about in the bed, but it hadn’t occurred to you to think about it. You felt your walls trying their best to come back up and quickly rebuild themselves. You could feel them closing in around your heart. They were rebuilding so quickly you knew it would be seconds before they were entirely up. If that happened, you knew you’d walk out of the door and back to the guesthouse to bury any memory of this slip-up. You would never think about this again, and you’d make every excuse to avoid him again.

 The things you felt last night scared the shit out of you. The things you saw in his eyes scared you. The way he touched you, commanded your body with ease, and held you all night shook you to your core and terrified you. Everything over the last few weeks contradicted and discredited everything you thought you knew as facts about him. He didn’t hate you; he liked you. He didn’t think you were annoying; he’d had a crush the entire time. He regretted his actions on the fourth of July. He’d wanted you this entire time.

 You must have remained quiet for too long because he lifted his head and gazed into your eyes, and the softness of the blue in them had your belly flipping. These reactions to him were new, and you hadn’t had enough time to wrap your head around them. Your lips felt like moving to speak words you couldn’t possibly mean, so you pressed them shut. You rose onto your knees and slid closer to him before you threw your leg over his and sat on his lap.

 “Does this feel like I regret anything?” You pressed your lips to his and kissed him.

 Chris didn’t move. He stayed there, letting you move your lips across his. The kiss started slow but quickly picked up speed. As you teased and sucked his lips, Chris still didn’t move. Only when your tongue delved into his mouth to wrap around his tongue did he kiss you back. Chris moaned on your mouth as he took control of the kiss and wrapped his arms around your back.

 The two of you sat there on the floor making out, and every second that passed only made both of you more desperate for the other. You teased the skin of his back with your nails gently raking them up and down his skin. Chris pulled you closer so you sat atop his already hardened length. You groaned on him and sank your fingers in his hair holding his head in the process. Instead of risking more conversation, you reached for the hook of your top and undid it before you pulled it off, so your breasts pressed against his chest. You felt his deep guttural moan reverberate against you.

 Chris slowly rose to his feet and took a few steps. You weren’t sure where he was going until you felt the kitchen counter underneath you. With the way he was pressed against your core, you could tell just how badly he wanted you.

 “Aren’t you hungry?”

 “Starving,” you muttered before you crashed your lips back to his.

 “Then let me feed you,” Chris groaned out as he pressed his length into you even more. You bit his bottom lip and pulled away before you pushed him back just enough for you to slide down to the floor before him. Once on your knees, you pulled his sweats that were carelessly balancing at his hips down to reveal just the meal you intended on.

 Wasting not one second, you sank your mouth onto his length and decided to take what you wanted. You didn’t bother going slow; there was no need. As you bobbed your head up and down his cock Chris didn’t stay quiet. He moaned and groaned all the while trying to keep himself in check. When you felt him sink his hands into your hair, you knew he wanted more control than you were allowing him. Chris held your head and began pumping your mouth. Every connection the tip of his cock nudged your tonsil, threatening your gag, but when he retreated, you were able to suppress it. When he sank his full length into your mouth, you decided not to back down and instead clamped around him and shook your head, giving him the full feel of you.

 “Fuck! You look so fucking gorgeous with my dick in your mouth, Y/N.”

 Some girls wanted chocolates. Some wanted flowers. Some wanted to be bought diamonds and rubies or even told they’re beautiful twenty times a day. You were plenty happy to hear those words from him.

You were that turned on. Moaning, you opened your throat, but Chris must have sensed what you intended to do because he pulled your head back with a loud groan and brought you to his face before he crashed his lips to yours and stuck his tongue down your throat.

 The next thing you knew, he’d walked away from you and gone back to the stove. You stood there, stunned and confused.

 “What’re you doing?”

 He had his sweats pulled back into place and looked innocent, the only dead giveaway was the obvious erection that was sticking right out straining against his sweatpants.

 “You said you were starving. Breakfast,” Chris responded, opening the oven and bending inside to retrieve a baking tray.

 “Uh—I had my breakfast in front of me,” you announced. Chris tried to hide his smirk, but you caught it.

 “I snuck into the house and was able to get some cinnamon buns and some fruit,” Chris explained as he rifled through the fridge to come out with a fruit salad bowl. He then began placing the buns onto a dish as you stood there still floored.

 Once he’d finished, he walked past you toward the table on the back deck.

 “Come on, let’s eat.”

 “Eat what exactly?”

 “Let’s start with cinnamon buns and fruit and see where we end up,” Chris teased.

 The man wanted to tease and torture you; you thought as you walked to the back bare chest and all. When you said down, you noticed him staring at your breasts so you poked them out even more.

 “Something wrong with me being shirtless?”

 Chris smiled, licked his lips, and shook his head. “By all means. With breasts like those you should be shirtless twenty-four-seven,” he said before he bit into one of the cinnamon buns. The icing residue latched onto his mustache and beard and corner of his mouth. You’d never wanted to lick someone more.

 You cupped your breasts and smiled when you saw his slip. “Thanks, I’ve always thought so too.” You slowly rolled your nipples between your fingers while staring into his eyes. When you dropped your hands, you took a bun for yourself and moaned while obnoxiously rolling your eyes into the back of your head upon first bite.

 “You did that for me first,” Chris said. You scoffed and finished chewing.

 “Are you sure you were first?”

 It was a low blow, but you didn’t care. All’s fair in torture and teasing. Right? Chris looked slightly annoyed, and that annoyance brought you immeasurable joy. The two of you ate the food, all the while staring at each other, just giving each other sensual looks that spoke volumes. Every now and then, you purposely let droplets of fruit juice fall on your breasts. Each time you did, Chris fell for it and gawked at them with a palpable hunger in his eyes. You wondered how long he could last. You knew you were the worst person to go up against. You knew the power of a woman over a man. You knew your power over this man.

 By the time the last bun was finished and the fruits all but gone you sat there licking and sucking your fingers clean from the icing with Chris as your audience. Once they were clean, you stood with the faux intention of bringing the dishes to the sink. Before you even made it to grab a dish, Chris had his hand wrapped around your wrist, pulling you to his body. His erection pressed urgently into you. You doubted it had gone down this entire time. You couldn’t help but smile, but you shouldn’t have. Chris spun you around and pushed you forward so you were bending across the table. He then yanked your skirt down, revealing your bare ass to him. You felt his teeth sink into the flesh of your backside, making you groan and throw your head back.

 Chris pushed your chest down onto the table before you felt his face bury between your folds.

 “Fuck!” It was an unexpected feeling, one that was coarse thanks to his beard but so damn soft because of his mouth.

 “Mmmm, you taste like mine!”

 You weren’t into the whole being possessed thing; it always made you feel like property and confined. You preferred to be the one possessing. This, though, felt different, but only a little. You felt Chris's hands grip your ass before he squeezed and slurped your sex. It felt so good that your knees buckled. Before you could relax into the pleasure, Chris stood again and walked away. After a few seconds of nothing but breeze, you looked back, but he wasn’t there.

 “Chris?

 No answer.

 “Chris!”

 Still no answer. You pressed your forehead to the table and groaned loudly. Who knew the man was this much of a tease. Standing on semi shaky legs, you walked inside, but again there was no Chris. Suppressing your frustration, you walked down the short hall and passed the little nook that he had set up as a library area, but still, he wasn’t there. When you went up the steps to his bedroom, it was empty. Knowing that there were only so many places he could be, you backtracked and saw the door to the bathroom open.

 As you approached, you heard the rush of running water, and when you got to the door, you saw Chris filling the tub. As you leaned on the door, you just marveled at how gorgeous he was and how in the hell he expected two people to fit in that tub. When he looked at you, his smile was coy.

“Found me.”

 “Because there were so many places to look,” you joked.

 You watched him move around the small space adding different things to the water as the tub filled. With everything, he poured the scent in the room changed. First, you smelled sandalwood, then cedarwood. After a few moments, you began to smell other things like eucalyptus, mint, and a faint vanilla and musk aroma. It all was so very masculine, but it also gave an air of feminine undertones. Chris looked at you, beginning from your toes along your naked body until he got to your face.

 “Enjoying the view?”

 “How the hell could I not? You’re gorgeous, Y/N. You know that,” Chris said, still staying on his side of the room.

 “I would love to say the same, but it seems as if I’m the only one naked.”

 Chris snorted and nodded.

 “That’s fair. Do you want to do the honors?”

 Biting your bottom lip, you looked him over and slowly shook your head. “Nope, I think you got it.”

 Chris smiled then slowly pulled the waist of his sweatpants down. He did it in a way to tease you even more, first only revealing the bundle of neatly trimmed hair. You watched his sweats get nudged on his erection, making you suck your bottom lip in your mouth. Chris looked to you with just his eyes, and it like a ton of bricks the effect it had on you. He must have known it too because the smirk that spread across his face said it.

 Finally, he was bare before you, and the only thought you had was how had you not tried to imagine this before. How had you not recognized these feelings you were having right now before? Chris turned off the water and held out his hand for you. Slowly you approached him and placed your hand in his.

 “How exactly are two of us supposed to fit in there? I have serious doubts you could fit.” Chris smiled and kissed your cheek then trailed kisses to your ear. Once he got to your ear, he nibbled your lobe for a few moments before he pulled back.

 “Let me lead by example,” Chris said before he climbed into the tub and sank into it, demonstrating that he, in fact, fit in the tub. You were shocked.

 “Tada.”

 With a smile, you took Chris’s outstretched hand and climbed into the tub and sat across from him. Chris’s feet were on either side of you while yours were in the middle of the tub. Moaning, you relished the feeling of the hot water on your skin and the blending aromas swirling in the air. The silence in the room wasn’t uncomfortable; it felt natural, which surprised you given the limited amount of time you’d spent around him.

 With your eyes closed, you leaned back and rested your head on the cushion that was there. When you felt his hand wrap around your foot, you opened your eyes and watched as he held it and massaged it. In no time at all, your relaxation increased. His hands were so large that they engulfed your foot and expertly moved along it. His hands felt incredible. You had no idea how he’d learned this, but you had suspicions.

 “What’re you thinking?”                                

 You took a deep breath and sank even lower in the water.

 “You don’t want to know.”

 “On the contrary, I want to know everything you think,” Chris corrected.

 “I was wondering how you got so good at this.”

 Chris snorted before he dropped a kiss to your foot.

 “Do you really want to know?”

 “If the words out your mouth are you practiced on Emily, Jessica, Jenny, Anna, Cynthia, and countless others, I'm going to kick you in that beautiful face of yours.”

 Chris laughed loudly as he leaned back to slap his hand across his chest. Some things never change, you thought.

 “In that case, I’ll just shut up,” Chris teased.

 Using your other foot still in the water, you shoved it out, making gentle connection with his dick in the water.

 “Hey, hey, hey, watch the merchandise. Just remember you’re the one who gets pleasure from it,” Chris cautioned.

 “Ha, but it hasn’t been just me has it?” Narrowing your eyes at him, you pursed your lips. You were never a jealous person, but right now, you felt hella jealous.

 “What I was going to say was I’m making it up as I go. I’m just good with my hands.” Chris’s hands moved up your leg to your calves. Once they got to your knees, Chris slinked over to you and hovered over you. “Let’s get one thing clear right now, sweetheart,” he began before he kissed your lips and sucking your bottom lip. “No one matters before you. You’re all I see, all I’ve ever seen.” He kissed you again and pulled you to him as he slid back to his side. You were now nestled between his legs pressed against his body. The kiss intensified while Chris’s hand trailed down your back to your ass. The way he gripped it had you wanting even more than you had outside at the table.

 “You’re all I want to see, Y/N,” Chris finished while nuzzling his nose against yours.

 You quickly adjusted your body so you straddled him with his member pressed against your ass. As you reached for one of the sponges behind Chris, your breast nudged his face. Taking full advantage of it, Chris wrapped his lips around your nipple and proceeded to please you. Focusing on the task, you took up the shower gel that laid on the side of the tub and lathered the sponge. The feel of his mouth on you was a continuous temptation to just rush full force toward your own pleasure, but you took your time.

 When you pulled back your breast came free with a loud “pop”.

 “How do you always smell like coconuts? It drives me fucking crazy.”

 He was asking your black woman secrets, and you didn’t want to give him any hints. Instead, you rubbed the sponge across his shoulder and down his chest.

 “Not gonna tell me?” Chris kissed your neck and made a path to your shoulder as his hands gripped your hips.

 “No need.”

 Chris grabbed the sponge and began wiping across your body. His eyes moved along with the sponge, and with every stroke, he looked even more and more mesmerized. When he swirled the sponge around your breasts while cupping them, you almost leaped out your skin. Chris swiped his thumbs across your nipples before he pinched them, which sent your hips bucking against him.

 Chris groaned and bit his bottom lip. The sight only turned you on more. For the next several minutes, the two of you bathed each other taking your time with moving the sponge along your bodies. You paid attention to every sharp intake of breath or heavy sigh as you moved along him and noted what worked in tempting him further. As you did this, Chris did the same, but when he realized that your reactions were more facial then verbal, you found him watching your face more times than not.

 After what felt like an eternity, Chris held you tightly as he rose onto his knees. That was when he kissed you. It was a slow kiss, a deliberately slow one meant only to tease you. The water from above shocked you making you flinch.

“Oh my god, Chris, my hair!” Your shriek was loud, and your glare penetrative as you tried to slink away from the falling water.

 “It’s just water,” Chris declared. To you, it was like a capital offense.

 “On my hair. Do you know how much goes into getting my hair like this?”

 He kissed your collar, gently nipping your skin between his teeth.

 “I’ll help you, I promise.”

 “Help me? Have you ever done a woman’s hair before, let alone a black woman’s?”

 “No, but I’m willing to learn.”

 Those words, for some reason, meant everything in this moment. It was sweet. You bit your bottom lip and went back to your natural position and allowed the water from the rainfall showerhead to pour down onto you. As it did, the soap on both your bodies washed away. Chris crashed his lips to yours and took control. You got lost in the kiss and the way his hard, wet body felt pressed against yours until the kiss got even more desperate.

 Chris stood and stepped out of the tub then walked out of the bathroom. The coolness in the air nipped at your skin, but the heat from his body worked to take it away. When he softly placed you on the bed, you moaned and rolled onto him to once again straddle him. Chris’s hands went everywhere. They caressed your back, palmed your ass, squeezed your hips, then came around to cup your breasts, but no matter where they went, they never stayed too long. It was as if he wanted everything all at once.

 When he pulled away from your lips, you stared at him, reading the hidden desires in them. You didn’t know how you could read him so easily now when not even seventy two hours ago, he perplexed you beyond comprehension. You bit his bottom lip and pulled back, teasing it before you licked his top one only to lick from his chin up across both lips. Chris groaned, and the pulsating between your bodies increased.

 That was when you slipped from his lap and stood before him in front of the panoramic window in the room. The sunlight shone through, and your body created a shadow. Chris slowly licked his lips as he raked his eyes over every inch of your body. The attention he gave you made you feel like a precious rare jewel, and you were quickly becoming addicted to the feeling. Slowly you twirled around, giving him a good view of the ass he loved to grip. His deep impassioned groan was the only sound you needed to hear to know he liked what he saw. The beads of water that dripped from your hair onto your skin slowly slid along your body, and when you turned to him, you could have sworn he was watching each of them.

 Your eyes dropped to his swollen need and licked your lips. When you did Chris’s hand wrapped around it and stroked three times before he gripped it. If that wasn’t an invitation, you didn’t know what was, you thought. Like a lioness on the prowl, you sauntered to him rolling your hips with each step until you got close enough, then you dropped to your knees and fully emulated that lioness stalking her prey. Chris sucked in a breath as he watched you crawled to him.

 Once you were between his legs, you rubbed your lips and nose along his length, then your cheek, all the while never taking your eyes off of his. Chris’s jaw was dropped as if he couldn’t believe you were before him doing the things you were. With your hands behind your back, you dropped your mouth down his length until you felt his head nudge your throat. Your moan vibrated on his cock, making him growl out from deep within his chest. Fuck, it was the hottest thing you’d ever heard, next to his moans.

 While you loved to tease him, you also loved to please him. Ending your torture, you showed him without hesitation just how skilled your mouth was. It didn’t take long for Chris’s hands to bury themselves in your hair until he was holding it back and watching you in awe as every curse word in the book tumbled from his lips in between moans, groans, and whimpers. When he pulled your head back by your hair, he pulled you to him and kissed you with a heat and passion you hadn’t expected but savored.

 Chris pulled you onto his lap and nestled his cock between your sopping folds. Unable to help yourself, you swiped your sex across his soaking him in the process. Every buck of your hips had Chris leaning back even more. You saw him reaching back but didn’t know what he was reaching for. Then it dawned on you he was probably trying to get to the bedside table.

 “I’ll get it,” you offered before you crawled up his body to reach inside the table. The movement unwittingly placed his head between your thighs. Chris took full advantage by gripping your hips and pulling you down onto his open mouth just as you’d reached the gold packet.

 Your shriek was loud, and from the beginning, it was clear his intention was not to tease. He lapped at you as if he’d been starving all the days of his life, and you were the only sustenance left in the world. After a few seconds, your body began to shake. That was when Chris sucked your clit into his mouth to slurp at you. The sensation was so intense you gripped the sheets and let your body convulse as your orgasm charged through you, bringing with it the goosebumps across your skin.

 “Oh fuck Chris, yes, yes, yes!”

 With every “yes,” his slurps got louder and louder. With the end of one orgasm, another quickly took over. When you felt Chris dip his tongue into your channel, your body moved on its own and rode his face. Chris’s moans picked up, and soon you were racing for your finish line. Chris’s moans got loud, and when you looked down and made eye contact, your release came. The feeling was intense, and you wanted more, but you also wanted to feel him.

 In a rush, you pulled from him and moved down his body to quickly rip open the condom and roll it onto his pulsating cock. In less than a minute, you were on your knees again, straddling him. Chris sat up and kissed you. Using your tongue, you licked across his lips, tasting yourself and moaning as you did.

 “I never took you for a squirter,” Chris whispered against your lips. You smiled as you slid onto him, taking every single inch slowly, so he felt every sensation individually. The look on his face said he was close and barely hanging on. It was what you liked.

 Wasting no time, you rocked against him and rolled your body as you held onto him. The water that dripped onto your skin was gone now as the combined heat from your bodies took all of it but replaced it with the slickness of your sweat. Your bodies rubbed together, causing such a delicious friction, a friction that only inched you closer and closer to the edge.

 Chris bit your neck before he dropped back onto the bed to watch you move against him. Raising onto your knees, you bounced on him, losing yourself in the pleasure and not caring how your body jiggled. All that mattered right now was your combined release.

 “Jesus, Y/N.” Chris balled the sheets into his outstretched hands and watched you with his mouth open. He looked at you as if you were a sorceress who somehow had claimed control of him against his will. The look made you feel powerful, and that was when you decided to show out and raise onto your toes to bounce on him more forcefully.

 “Aaah,” Chris shouted. He only allowed you four dips before he was sitting up and standing with you in his arms.

 His lips claimed yours, and the two of you fought in a battle of the tongues. Chris was the one to break the kiss before he tossed you onto the bed. You were only without him for seconds before he was kneeling onto the bed and forcefully flipping you over onto your stomach. When he dropped a heavy-handed slap to your ass, you moaned and instantly poked it out. You felt him swipe his length along your slit once before he was slamming into you, connecting you in one rough thrust.

 “Aaaah!”

 Chris groaned deeply and grabbed your hands to hold them behind your back. As he did this, he rotated his hips, caressing every wall with his need. He was impossibly deep and though your body wanted more your survival instincts had you trying to pull away.

 “Mm-nmh. Don’t run from this dick, Y/N. Take it,” Chris tantalizingly ordered before he pulled out only to slam back into you.

 “Fuuuuck!” His grip on your wrists only tightened, keeping you right where you were so you had no choice but to take it.

 Chris’s strokes from the beginning were deliberate, and with every passing second, they sped. In no time at all, you were whimpering, and shrieking out, not caring who heard. Chris’s moans were like music to your ears and only made you wetter and wetter. You knew there was no way you could take much more of this. You could already feel your skin tingling and your sex quivering around him. Chris’s strokes got sloppier and sloppier, and that was when he let your wrists go. You plopped onto the bed only to have him push one of your legs to the side before he was sinking back inside your greedy sex.

 Chris hovered over you and gave you slow deep strokes that had you shouting his name back to back.

 “Yes. Y/N. God, I love how you feel around me. You feel so fucking good,” he groaned against your ear before he pressed down onto you and jackhammered into you, dragging your orgasm from you. As you clenched around him, Chris shouted out and came right along with you.

 After almost two minutes, Chris was still spasming inside of you, and you were still milking him for every drop.

 “Fuuuuck! I’m still coming,” Chris grunted out, dropping his forehead to your shoulder. Chris bit your skin and groaned. When rolled off of you onto his back, he groaned again.

 You rested onto your elbows and watched him fascinated. With his face scrunched, he looked as if he were in such a complex merge of pleasure and pain. You dropped a kiss to his chest and trailed it to his nipple then nibbled it. He sucked in a breath and groaned again. You looked to his member and marveled, seeing it twitch and bob in the air. After a few moments, his breathing evened out, and he turned to you with such vulnerability in his eyes you couldn’t help but snuggle closer to him.

 Chris wrapped an arm around you, allowing you to settle comfortably atop his chest. The silence filled the room with the two of you enjoying it, and the afterglow of your coupling. After almost five minutes of silence and you tracing patters across his chest and abs, you spoke first.

 “When you imagined this—did you imagine it being like this?”

 Chris didn’t speak right away. He stayed quiet so long you didn’t think he would answer. You didn’t dare look at him. You didn’t want to meet his eyes, unsure what you’d find there and just what it would do to you. You heard your ring tone, it sounded far away, but you knew it was yours. After the beginning chime, what you heard next quickly broke the mood.

 “Call from Sexy as fuck dig dick Charles.”

 Chris audibly growled before groaning and rolling away from you, leaving you a little surprised. The personalized ringtone kept repeating, and the more it did, you could feel the chill that filled the room. Chris sat up at the edge of the bed with his back hunched and turned to you. Finally, the silence returned, but he didn’t speak. You slid closer to him and touched his back. He flinched and slightly arched his back away. Thinking it was just a shock reflex, you pressed your lips to his back. That was when he moved completely and stood.

 “You should get back before Scott realizes you’re not in the guesthouse,” Chris spoke, looking everywhere but at you. He made a move to roll the condom off, then tied it and dropped it into the garbage beside the bedside table. He was still hard.

 “You want me to leave?”

 Chris sighed out and planted his hands on his waist before dropping his head back.

 “It’s the best move,” he quietly answered.

 You wondered if this was about the call. Once it rang out, you felt the shift in the atmosphere.

 “Chris, is this about the call?”

 His sigh was heavier, more forceful. He moved to one of the doors in the room and came out of it with another pair of sweats, then he pushed his legs through them.

 “It’s just best for you to go, Y/N. You probably shouldn’t even be here.” He sounded defeated.

 You tried hard not to allow the feeling of rejection take over, but the longer he stayed over there not looking at you with clenched jaws, the more impossible it was.

 “Chris ignore the call,” you began.

 “Ignore the fact that mere weeks ago, you were fucking someone else and probably doing every single fucking thing to him that you were just doing to me? Saying the same shit—uuugg!” Chris turned his back to you as he rubbed his forehead.

 This was insane, you thought.

 “Are you jealous?”

 Silence.

 “Chris--,” you began before he cut you off.

 “—Just go, Y/N.”

 Anger fired up within you, and you bolted from the bed naked and all. “Am I making a big deal about you definitely having fucked someone else weeks ago? Chris, you’ve been fucking everyone else but me for years!” with your rising temper, your voice rose as well.

 “Great here we go again. You want to throw every woman I’ve had sex with in my face. Fine! Yes, I fucked a lot of women. You’ve fucked a lot of guys!”

 Those words were like a slap across the face. You couldn’t believe he’d just said that to you. You felt the tears before they welled your eyes, and you refused to stay there and shed them. Nodding, you walked out of the bedroom and down the hall to the bathroom to grab your skirt before you angrily pulled it on. As you did, you felt the first droplets of tears. You could have punched a hole in the door. You hated crying, and you hadn’t let any man make you cry in years.

 As you walked out to the door, you grabbed your top and pulled that on as well. In seconds you found your clutch and walked through the door.

 “Y/N,” Chris began with a hand on your wrist.

 Yanking away from him, you kept your face forward. “Fuck you, Chris!”

 With that, you stormed across the yard and to where the bike was leaned and rode away. Your tears made it difficult to see where you were going, but you refused to stop. Instead, you peddled harder and gripped the handlebar with the strength and fire of hell itself.

When you got back to the house, you were thankful the pool area was empty. You shoved the bike onto the ground and stormed to the guesthouse door then slammed it behind you. Quickly you stripped your clothes off and rushed into the shower. The only thing you wanted to do was wash him off of you.

 How dare he you thought as you roughly scrubbed your skin trying to rub off every kiss, every lick every touch, and when you realized you couldn’t, no matter how hard you scrubbed, you stood still and shook with the force of your anger. Your anger was your weakness. You went from zero to one hundred in seconds, and once there, that blazing inferno was worst than an F6 on the tornado scale. Everyone knew when you were seething; it was best to leave you be.

 After a few minutes, you still weren’t able to get control of your anger, and that was when the tears streamed. They were a mixture of angry tears and hurt ones. You couldn’t believe it. You’d lowered your guard. You hadn’t even realized you did. You lowered it and allowed someone to hurt you. He’d been able to hurt you. That was what terrified you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Lee’s Note:  😬

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***If you want to be tagged please SEND AN ASK SO IT WILL BE EASIER FOR ME TO KEEP TRACK OF. Thank you for reading!!! 

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Tag List:

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***There are a few that are bold that I tried to tag but your @ wasn’t coming up. I’m not sure why. I’m sorry.***

[imaginesbymk]

“Find Me Under The Giant Rabbit.”

Reservoir Dogs/Pulp Fiction One Shot

SUMMARY: I read a Reddit fan theory that Mr. Pink survived, escaped the cops, got arrested and was then put on parole - leaving behind his old life and lying low as a waiter at Jack Rabbit Slims. What happens when you show up to the restaurant one night?

PAIRING: Mr. Pink/Buddy Holly waiter x Reader

TAGS: swearing, smoking + mentions of basically everything that happened in reservoir dogs which is the heist, violence, etc

NON REQUESTED

WORD COUNT: 2,870 (it’s long i’m sorry)

AUTHOR’S NOTE: this is probably the cheesiest thing i’ve ever written, and it’s nothing tarantino would ever put in his films, also there’s no way PF and RS can legitimately tie in together 100% even though there are some factors to support otherwise, but i wanted to write this and see something lol :( leave a like/reblog + feedback!!!

[gif credit]

YOU put your car in park, shutting off the engine, and observed it from afar. It was one hell of a big restaurant, almost a bit too cartoon-like. There was a giant anthropomorphic rabbit on top, and the lights claiming the name were glowing a bright red and yellow. Mind you, this was in Los Angeles, so who wouldn’t blame you if you took one look at Jack Rabbit Slim’s, and mistake it for a restaurant at Six Flags? 

Dozens of bikers came in with their motorcycles, yet their engines couldn’t even overpower the chatter coming from newcomers left and right. You ignored a heavy tattooed biker dressed in all leather and denim catcalling you from afar, and you reached the front desk. 

A man dressed in uniform, most definitely in character, tipped his hat at you and led you to a table with only two chairs. You weren’t expecting anyone to join you in the other seat across. So what if you went for dinner by yourself? You didn’t bother asking anyone to join you for that matter. Not anyone you could think of at the top of your head would be any less boring.

You began tracing your fingers around the rim of the ketchup bottle when not even five seconds after sitting down, a lady approached your table with ruby red lips. 

Of course, you thought. Servers were dressed up as icons from the 50s era.

“Marilyn,” you say in awe.

“Close enough,” Instead of being seated in the Marilyn Monroe section being served by a Marilyn Monroe-looking Marilyn Monroe, you were greeted with a tall Mamie Van Doren, who is just as breathtaking as Marilyn refilling everyone’s coffee mugs from the other side of the restaurant. “How about I get you started with drinks?”

Ricky Nelson’s performance on stage came to an end when Mamie arrived with your food. You looked around the place while eating. People weren’t eating by themselves. Families, friends, dates, all of them occupied their seats. Now that you’ve noticed, you sort of wished you brought someone with you, otherwise the seat across from you is used as a footrest. 

So there, you propped your feet on top, and relaxed… then you sat upright. Your eyes fixated on the waiter in his section, which were the cars back in the 50s used as booths. You watch him walk towards one of them. The couple was a young woman in a blunt bob cut with bangs, and a man wearing a black suit with long black hair tied back.

You squint your eyes. It couldn’t be...

“Hi, I’m Buddy. What can I get ya?”

You blinked, dropping the half bitten French fry from your mouth. Holy fucking shit.

It was all coming back to you. The news broke out about the heist going wrong at the wholesale, all dead except for one, a cop who laid dead on the ramp inside the rendezvous was identified as Mr. Orange. Since he wasn’t supposed to know where you were from, Mr. Pink never turned up to your door as an emergency hideout, or to drag you with him on his getaway because he never had one. You never heard of him ever since. 

Here he was, Mr. Pink, alive and well, wearing glasses. What the hell happened? How long has he been working here? Is he supposed to be Buddy Holly?

“How do you want that cooked? Burnt to a crisp or bloody as hell?” you hear him ask the man in the suit who ordered a steak.

“Bloody as hell, and oh, yeah, look at this- vanilla coke.”

You noticed the irony. He left you in a black suit - and he comes back in white. Like he’d ever want to be caught dead in white, or pink.

“What about you, Peggy Sue?” he asks the woman, jotting in his notepad. You recognized the pun.

“I’ll have the Durwood Kirby burger, bloody. And… the five dollar shake.”

Were you about to laugh? Call out his name? That was enough for you to get antsy in your seat, but you didn’t want to draw attention. You saw him again while finishing up half of your meal, giving the couple their drinks and disappearing back into the kitchen. He was doing his job, but it wasn’t like he was giving his one hundred percent. For someone who preached to the Gods about professionalism, Mr. Pink sure lacked work ethic. Every employee was on point with their character impersonations as if you had travelled back in time. Meanwhile, he acted like himself and seemed bored while wearing an emotionless face, as if he hated his job and epitome of his existence. It was never a dull moment for him whenever he was with you, though.

You got up to use the restroom.

“We’re lucky we got anything at all. I don’t think Buddy Holly’s much of a waiter,” you heard the man at the booth tell the woman as you walk past them, spotting their food from the corner of your eye. It’s no surprise hearing that. Mr. Pink never looked like the type to work at a job like this.

You sat back down and soon, Mr. Pink reappeared, standing over to the side and watched the announcement of the twisting contest, smoking a cigarette. You see him eyeing two pretty blonde women walking past him, and he looked back his way, now in your direction.

He finally did what you wanted him to do, and he stares at you for nearly a solid minute.

You waved awkwardly. 

Mr. Pink tosses the cigarette in a random person’s ashtray and disappears behind the door once again. You darted out of your chair, and marched your way to where he headed, just as the couple he served got up on stage to participate in the twisting contest.

A Zorro waiter jumps in front of you. “Stop right there, mi amor!” his eyes darted at you through the cheap black mask he was wearing. “I believe the bathroom’s on the other side of the bar.”

“Where’s Buddy?” you ask Zorro.

“I’m afraid Mr. Holly is taking a quick break from unenthusiastically serving love birds in their cars.”

“Can you tell him I’m looking for him?”

“Once I see him.” Zorro then took out his sword and pointed it at you, a grin plastered on his face. “Now, shall I escort you back to your dining spot?”

Although you were aware this guy was only in character, you didn’t wanna risk getting kicked out, or having a realistic looking sword ripped through your body. You sighed and turned around, heading back. You noticed at your table a folded napkin beside your empty plate. Mamie Van Doren was last seen there, her back facing you with her heels clicking away on the tiles.

“Excuse me!” you called after the waitress. She ignores you, smiling down at new customers at an umbrella table.

Cocking an eyebrow, you used your finger to flatten the crease and read the note in bold handwriting.

FIND ME UNDER THE GIANT RABBIT. - BUDDY 

You threw the door open and ran outside, precisely under the giant rabbit of the Jack Rabbit Slim’s sign, just like he said on the napkin. You felt like an idiot checking every direction to find no one. Not a lot of the bikers were seen riding or hanging out around the parking lot, some people were coming and going, but you couldn’t find Buddy Holly.

Defeated, you turn to walk back inside. 

Mr. Pink rushed out the door and caught his breath. It looked like he was chasing you down before you could take off. A song used for the twisting contest kept playing from inside.

You didn’t run up to him and jumped in his arms or anything dramatic in that matter. You both stared at each other.

A few days before the heist you two stood across each other waiting for Mr. Brown and Mr. White inside the hideout. It was a quiet moment, not an awkward one. He just took that opportunity to study you, as you did him. It took him that moment to realize he was warming up to you. 

“Well hello there, Buddy,” you smile smugly.

YOU and Pink loitered at the side of the eatery, where the back door to the kitchen was located. He had taken off his fake glasses, showing his full frame.

“Okay,” you watch him lean against the wall, lighting his cigarette. “Talk to me. What happened to you?”

“What the hell do you think? Cops tagged me when I tried driving away. I was put behind bars, and by some fucking miracle this place took me in when I needed money.”

“You didn’t know any other crime bosses looking for a lanky dude?” Pink rolls his eyes at your joke. “I know the heist went terribly wrong, I saw the news. Everyone’s dead as Dillinger.”

“That briefcase had a shit load of two million dollars worth of stones,” Pink blew smoke out. “I swear, if that asshole undercover cop was never sent to set us up, I could have been enjoying a cocktail in Santorini. You’re lucky you called in sick that day.”

You shuddered, remembering how god-awful the illness was. “Never again. I felt like I was being hot glued to a sauna.”

You remembered the day of the heist. In fact, you mentally prepared yourself for something that you’ve never done before. You braced for what was supposed to go smoothly as Joe promised. Instead, you were woken up by the worst case scenario above 38 degrees. You were thankful Joe took it easy on you and promised another job next time. 

“All right, your turn. What did you do after that shit show went down?” Pink asks you.

“Just did my own thing. I wasn’t there so the cops never searched for me.” Pink took a slow drag, staring at nothing. He didn’t really look the same as before. Still lanky, except his hair was a bit more darkened and styled in curls, possibly because Buddy Holly had it permed that way. But his face read that he had been through a lot. Normally you felt zero pity for assholes like him, but you managed to blurt out, “I missed you.”

Pink, blowing out smoke in the air, eyed you up and down and furrowed his brows. “Likewise.”

Not only did it suck not being able to make money, you also couldn’t do it with Mr. Pink. As much as he kept his professionalism to a T, he squeezed in time to get along with you. It was no wonder Joe hired you - you were different than the guys, you moved differently and never felt small. Mr. Pink was drawn to that. 

Maybe that was just an understatement. He grew intimidated by something he expected to experience the least from in the job, and of course, straight out of a fairytale, you had to stop and ask yourself if you felt the same way, and if what you felt was right. Neither of you had any idea. It was against the rules to give out personal information to each other, and Mr. Pink took those rules very seriously, even if it was just one job that he most likely wouldn’t come back to unless a higher pay was involved and Joe Cabot liked him enough to recruit him again. 

If Mr. Pink grew too attached, if he let his guard down for one second, God forbid something would have happened to you. Without a doubt, he would have heavily blamed himself and walked away from the job without saying another word. 

His options were to wait until after the robbery to make a move, or do his job, get paid and leave. Whether or not it was out of selfishness was out of the question. Mr. Pink is already selfish in an intuitive kind of way, he’d rather avoid spiraling into a wave of emotions for one person - so he chose the latter.

“What?” Pink looked at you, feeling a bit tense. “Why are you staring at me like that?”

“Huh? No. It’s nothing,” you blinked, realizing you were staring at him longer than you should have. You shook your head, most likely shaking off the intrusive thoughts. Maybe this wasn’t a good time to tell him what’s on your mind. 

If anything, he’s most likely sleeping with the Marilyn Monroe waitress. “It’s just… you shaved the goatee.”

Pink nodded, looking a bit annoyed that there was no facial hair left on his chin to rub. “Buddy Holly had a clean face. For the record, the only advantage of this job is that I’m under disguise. Other than that, this place is a circus. I’m zooming back in time whenever I clock in.”

“It’s a 50s themed restaurant,” you state. “Working here sounds like fun. At least you get to dress up and experience pop culture.”

He scoffs. “No, fuck the 50s. Shit was all I Love Lucy and those puffy ass dresses.”

“They’re called poodle skirts, Pink.”

“Like I give a fuck what they’re called.”

“You know Buddy Holly smiled. He was a singer and a guitarist. If you keep up the attitude, no one’s gonna tip you. Nice Guy Eddie told me about your rant on tipping.”

“Ha! And? You will never find me up on that stage performing That’ll Be The Day, moving like a fucking animatronic.” Halfway finished, Pink tossed his cigarette aside and looked at you. “You’re a sight for sore eyes.”

You felt your cheeks flushing. Fuck. “I am?”

He nodded, putting his Buddy Holly glasses back on his face. “Yeah. It’s a breath of fresh air seeing you here.” He stares down at his wristwatch for a moment.

“Your break’s done?”

“It’s been done,” he says. “Fifteen minutes ago.”

You shook your head, chuckling. “You’re so fired.”

“This isn’t the first time I stopped caring, so my boss isn’t gonna bat an eye.” He had his hand wrapped around the back door which was supported by a wooden block to keep it open. “Look, I’ll see ya arou-”

“Pink?” Your heart rose up to your throat.

He turned back to you. “Hm?” 

You just had to do it. You reached up and kissed him softly. Pink didn’t shove or curse at you. His features softened, pulling you close to him and kissed you deeply. Even when you two pulled away, his arms didn’t unwrap from your waist. His forehead was pressed against yours now.

“My name’s Y/N,” you tell him.

He stares at you, no snarky, sarcastic comment left for him to give.

“I know you’re not willing to give your name up just yet, you can’t fully trust me, and I get that, but I won’t tell anyone what happened. You got lucky, I think… but I’m really glad you’re okay.”

“You don’t have to-”

“I’m serious.”

“Y/N,” he says your name for the first time. “You don’t have to go all sappy for me. Karma came in hot. Jesus Christ, I mean, I left you.”

“Not really. You didn’t know me. The cops had the place staked out the entire day, there was nothing you could do.”

He looked down at his shoes. “All right. But still, I feel shitty. Can I at least make it up to you?”

“How?”

Pink shrugs. “I get paid tomorrow.”

“Good for you,” you reply. “Save it like you’re gonna lose it.”

“I’ve had this job for a while now, I got enough to last. But once I win the lottery, I’m gone.”

“To Santorini?”

“With a cocktail in my hand. But that’s besides the point, right now I got enough to take you out on a date… if you’re down.”

“Where would you plan on taking me? Here?” you laugh.

“You’re funny. How about the movies? Overruled, I’m taking you to see a movie. I gotta know where you live first. It’s okay to know now.”

You nodded, you couldn't argue with that. Besides, you two would just be making out in the dark the entire time.

His hand was back on the handle of the back door. Pink pulled it open, looked back at you and smiled for the first time tonight. That warmed your heart, and you were certain it warmed his. He watched you stuff something inside his pocket square as you told him your address. He went back inside, shutting the door on you. You walked back to the front of the restaurant to pay for the bill, and went straight home. 

Mr. Pink shuffles past the chefs in the kitchen, feeling through his suit pocket to pull out his notepad and whatever you stuffed inside just moments ago.

I didn’t even serve them. Is this supposed to be for Mamie Van Doren? He stares down at the dollar bill crumpled in his hand. His frown suddenly transitions to a small but genuine smile. 

Fuck it. Nothing could stop him now. He definitely owes you a date night. He quickly stuffs the tip back in his pocket square, and comes out the sliding door. 

THE END

—

TAGLIST: @locke-writes​ @aryn-the-bearheart​

[theyarebothgunshot]

ROSE I AM FREAKING OUT HAVE YOU SEEN THE PREQUEL STUFF???? WHAT IS GOING ON, my god... I was literally about to go to sleep, decided to check Tumblr one last time and see this.... what WHAT!! WHATTTT!!!!!! I don't even know if this is good bad or what but just JENSEN IS PRODUCING A SUPERNATURAL PREQUEL AND DEAN'S GONNA BE THE NARRATOR OR Sth LIKE???? -🐸

YEAH i am normal about this <3 (jk i am also freaking out) welcome to: people screaming to me in my inbox about prequelgate ft. j/2 fallout theory. let's goooo!

Another copypasta and suddenly chaos machine is full on gay I love this prophecy

you know whats funny i just checked the j/2 tag and i feel like for the first time in a long time they are starting to realise that maybe THEY should be the ones who are "gutted" *sips tea*

ROSE HOLY SHIT ROOOOOOOOSE ITS HAPPENING HOLY SHIIIIIT

YEAH

Nevermind just read prequel and well good luck I guess but just you know kind of bleh who wants to watch John Winchester well let’s have hope anyways

i know a lot of people are bummed out but i am kind of very excited actually?? i trust robbie and even though yeah j*hn winchester turned into a nasty abusive bastard, it can be interesting to explore how it all started (imo). it's just the first of many stories they can tell.

I can only accept this circus if it’s Dean telling the stories to his and Cas’ kids and then we have a revival to show that the whole finale was in fact the end Chuck wanted there Jensen I fixed it

i would not say no to this

heyloo bee anon here

um- wtf is happening?

jackles prequel series?? why? i want to be excited about this but sheesh im scared

because supernatural is never dead <3

okay, but, jensen... john winchester ≠ jdm, you don’t have to go /that/ hard for him 🙃

true true... though i am waiting for jdm to comment on this, please i need it

WAIT A SECOND J2 FALLOUT THEORY TRUE??

LMAO HELL YEAH BESTIE

Rose you really picked the worst time to sleep for real

bestie it was literally 4 in the morning, what do you expect from me sdfjsfhsf

I can’t literally can’t we were all right LMAO j2 fallout theory is real and cockles (Misha supporting Jensen) is [gunshots] I’m just laughing cause what the hell is this timeline we’re living LMAOOOOOOOOOO

we would always end up here <3

Do we have the copypaste anons to thank for JP basically confirming the J2 fallout? lol 🦚

yes, everybody say 'thanks annoying idiots!'

ROSE, WAKE UP, COME HERE,

THERE'S A LOT GOING ON FFS

YEAH I KNOW BUT I NEEDED SLEEP

Anticipating that there's going to be a lot of yelling about the prequel on here: I am cackling, but also, I mean, the first time Dean got a look into his parent's past, Cas was the catalyst: literally entered Dean's mind and catapulted him to the 70s. So idk, it's not completely unreasonable to expect some Cas cameos, maybe setting up a parallel timeline since Dean is narrating. What I'm saying is, this is Jackles, he's getting JDM and Misha in on this lmao -Honeymoon Anon

you were right lmfaooo also i fully agree. misha's tweet further cemented that thought for me. he knew about this prequel and i dont think he is cas-baiting us, i think he'll be involved. i'd also be obsessed to see jensen and jdm act together again (though idk who jdm could play seeing as it's a prequel and he is way too old to play young j*hn)

longlivethetribbles heeft gevraagd:

Heyyyyyy bestie, are you SEEING the absolute madness going on right now holy shit

well a little late but I SURE AM BESTIE

bestie wake up pls s16 finale just dropped.

- 🍯

and WHAT a great one it was

I love coming home from work to see all of the chaos unfolding on Tumblr and Twitter. I'm absolutely buzzing right now. I'll probably still be here by the time you wake up and check tumblr 😂 - 🐢

lmaooo and were you still awake?? did you see my freak out??

Oooh bestie wake the fuck up, I know you’re gonna be excited for this one jsnsjsj

god i had SUCH a morning like. it's 12:00 now and all i did since i woke up is check tumblr rip

short summary: jen and dee gain the rights, they post on ig/twitter about a prequel ft john and mary that no one asked for, the fandom loses its everloving shit as usual, they trend on twitter thanks to the beloved twt intern who missed us, misha qt’s jen about cas possibly benefiting from being in the prequel, then j*red qt’s jensen abt how his feelings got hurt by him not being told about a prequel his character as no involvement in & he initially throws a tantrum, and the rest is history - 🦋 anon (ps: i hope this helps a little, i’ve been scattered brained trying to keep up with it all night lmao so pls let me know if i missed anything, bug crew !!)

thank you so much darling i figured it out eventually but this is a helpful summary!!!

I hope you enjoyed waking up to all of this XD -🐢

i sure did!!! also that answers my question about you being awake lmao

I WILL NEVER EVER EVER FORGIVE MYSELF FOR SLEEPING THROUGH ALL OF THIS DRAMA AND NOT EXPERIENCING IT IN PERSON I DIDN'T NEED THIS SLEEP - tea anon

well the party was still going strong this morning so im not TOO "gutted" see what i did there lmaooo

Now that you are caught up with the news... So idk if you remember this but...didn't jarpad tell jackles he was up for a reboot in an online panel? And jackles answered that this was news to him??

-🍯

yeah i think you are right but he was clearly joking and didnt expect jackles to actually be working on something already

J2 anon spare more of those anons let's finish this - tea anon

please, we're having a ball in this bitch

I saw a post on tumblr where someone said now that Kripke gave J&D the rights, maybe they’re starting with a prequel just to end on a reboot in years time and honestly ? I wanna believe that so badly. This is tinhatty but what if this is all calculated in a way that makes it so that Jensen is slowly starting to fix everything that was wrong with spn - now that he has the rights and he’s slowly making spn his own story ?! I mean he did say in his ig post he wants to ‘fill in the rest’ - and maybe Mary and John’s story is only the beginning of spn related content from J&D to come ??? Maybe he wants to give spn the justice it deserves ?? Thoughts ??

i dont think this is tinhatty at all i think this is very possible and not that much of a reach. i could see this happening yeah for sure

want to hear something funny. I found out I had a ruptured blood vessel in my eye because I was sending my friend a video freaking out when the prequel news dropped and I noticed the corner of my eye was red af. and when I got back online jared had tweeted.

DJFHSJD ANON THE CHAOS OF IT ALL, HELP, are you okay? <3

rose.. bestie... how are you feeling about The News? nsfshsf being european is a curse </3 🐞

i feel GREAT im living for it i feel on top of the world tbh (and yeah it really is dsjfhs)

What am I waking up to I can't WHAT I rested my eyes for like 5 minutes help *hits reblog button* - anon anon

yep yep essentially djfhs

“Jensen and Misha are Co workers who barley talk”

I can’t be sure of course but I’m fairly certain that this is the copypasta that brought the j/2 fallout theory back to life. Who’s apparently ‘barely talking’ now? skansjsjsj. It’s almost prophetic, these j/2 anons have superpowers I’m telling ya.

-poker face anon

next time we get one of them we should be thanking them lmaooo

ok, but are we gonna talk about the "When Daneel and I formed Chaos Machine Productions, we knew that the first story we wanted to tell was the story of John and Mary Winchester [...]"-quote because the way this is phrased implies they formed CHAOS MACHINE Productions with the intent of telling this story (first), i haven't been in this dumpster long enough but the name just tickles me in that Misha way, isn't it so sus??? am i missing something???? i mean with this announcement they SURE lived up to that name... 🧩-anon

you are absolutely right, chaos machine SCREAMS misha and we are all here for it!!

hey hey hey. joining the clownverse, there's no way THEE cas girl danneel doesn't know just how much the fandom loves misha and cas. so 2 + 2 = misha in the spn prequel!

AGREED

So I think I finally managed to catch up on wtf happened while I was asleep and my brain melted. What a shit show to wake up to.

Anyway thoughts.

I don't hate the idea of a Mary&John sequel. I think it has the potential to be good (It has the potential to be really bad too, so I'm kind scared).

🕯️🕯️🕯️ manifesting Mary being badass and John being kinda useless🕯️🕯️🕯️

As for the Jensen and J*red thing.

I can see Jensen not telling J*red even if they are still friends, because J*red is kinda good at accidentally telling Secrets. He could have told him right before he announced it so, so that J*red didn't have to find out from twitter. He was on the show for 15 years, he is bound to get asked about it. The public twitter meltdown was really unprofessional so. Like you have Jensen's number J*red. You could have sorted that out in private like a normal person, but instead you choose to act like a toddler throwing a tantrum.

Is it weird that I'm actually going to be kinda that for them if the actually had a falling out, even tho I don't like J*red all that much. They seemed to be really important to each other and while I thought before that the might have triefted apart a bit, I didn't think that the where actively fighting.

- 🐌 anon

the thing is, the polite/normal thing for jensen to do was text him before announcing it on twitter. it's weird he didn't, and that makes me believe that maybe yeah they did have a falling out. especially with the way j*red responded to it on twitter. if he had no other reason to be this upset (no prior beef or falling out) you'd think that he wouldn't be responding like this. on the other hand, the man is a mysterie to me so who the hell knows. i'm not gonna mourn about it if they did/do grow apart because j*red is just.... awful imo.

[thedumpsterqueen]

Standards of Performance, Chapter 8: Heartbreak and Lattes

From the Beginning,  Previous Chapter

AO3 Link

Only announcement for this week: I've started a new job, and my schedule is such that a weekly update is unlikely without the quality being verrrry questionable. Therefore, I've decided to move off a set schedule, but I PROMISE I will update at least twice a month. Thank you for your patience and understanding; I know a set schedule is preferable but I wanna make sure this doesn't go to shit. Also... apparently this isn’t showing up in the tags I use, which sucks - so reblogs help a lot if you’re able. I love you guys <3

Summary: You’re the BAU’s newest intern, desperate to prove yourself amongst an established team of much more experienced profilers. Agent Hotchner, the seemingly infallible team leader, sets strict expectations for your performance. He commands your respect without even trying, but is there something more to your relationship than a simple desire to impress your stony-faced boss?

Chapter Summary:  In which decisions are made and overturned and many cups of coffee are drunk.

Words: 2666

Rating: Explicit, 18+. Warnings on AO3.

Pairings: Hotch x Reader, Hotch x You

You were sulking.

Not enough to affect your work - you’d have to go through something much worse than heartbreak before you risked your internship. But your home life was beginning to resemble a timelapse straight out of an overdramatic teen movie wherein the protagonist’s crush asks someone else to prom. Your apartment was a pile of half-done laundry, takeout containers, and case files; your evenings filled with sad Spotify playlists and too much red wine. 

And work? Not much better. Seeing him stride into the office every morning, filled with power and purpose and completely oblivious to the fact that he had shoved your heart into a metaphorical blender with a simple response to a seemingly innocuous question was really starting to wear you down. You had been so sure, that was the thing - so convinced by the team’s reaction to your story that it had all meant something. And maybe it had. But he had looked you in the face and told you it didn’t, so that was the answer that mattered.

So maybe sulking was the wrong word. ‘Spiraling’ was more accurate. A controlled spiral, mitigated only by the fact that 1. you had appearances and responsibilities to maintain and 2. Aaron Hotchner wasn’t actually the reason you showed up to work every morning, despite what it had seemed lately.

And it had seemed like that. You remembered getting the phone call that you had been accepted for an interview for the BAU internship, and the phone call that you made it to the final round, and finally the phone call that you had gotten the position - each more exciting than the last. You remembered meeting him, shaking his hand, completely oblivious to how much he was about to fuck up your life. Even when you first started to feel something for him, you convinced yourself it was nothing - a harmless crush wrought from your veneration and respect for one of the best in the field. Someone you admired. Someone you wanted to be one day. But then he’d made the unfortunate move of revealing bits and pieces of himself to you, exposing tiny slivers of humanity and emotion you were convinced didn’t exist, until you realized he was a person, an incredible one, and it wasn’t just admiration you felt anymore. It took all of a few months and a handful of genuine conversations until you were this far gone, and after he made it clear that your pining was one-sided, you knew you had to stop your fall there. 

So you tried.

You kept your conversations strictly professional. Avoided driving with him or sitting next to him on flights whenever possible. Disallowed yourself lingering glances. But it was still too goddamn much. He was still too goddamn much.

The next case pushed you over the edge. It was bad (not just normal bad, BAU bad), and it was no one’s fault, not really. You got called in late, the evidence was shoddy at best, and when all was said and done, you caught the unsub, but only after he’d killed 4 women. The last one died moments before you arrived and apprehended the killer, and despite the delay of those few minutes being, again, no one’s fault, the team was at each other’s throats the whole trip home. 

You were slouched in the corner of the plane trying to avoid getting caught in the crossfire. Morgan and Reid were sniping viciously about something completely unrelated to the case, because despite everything they’d just endured, they would never outright blame each other for what went wrong. Hotch, deciding he’d heard enough, raised his head slightly and said quietly,

“They’re not always going to end the way we want. We did all we could.”

And you were just done. You couldn’t stand to be around this pillar of strength and compassion and resolve. You needed to hate him for rejecting you, and you couldn’t. So you marched over to his seat, and, steeling yourself, you said what you’d been wanting to say since he broke your heart:

“I need a day off.”

It had sounded more dramatic in your head.

“A day off?”

You nodded. Hotch gathered himself, seeming to realize that such a request wasn’t unheard of (though perhaps in his department it essentially was) and nodded. 

“This case was difficult. I wish I could say exceptionally so. Get me your paperwork by tonight and take tomorrow off.”

You went back to your seat, relief overshadowed by disgust that it wasn’t, in fact, the 4 deaths you’d just been privy to that had broken you - it was the crush on your boss. You’d handled this case like a champ, in fact, because you were so absorbed in self-pity that you couldn’t feel anything else.

You needed to fucking recalibrate.

***

You were determined to make the next 24 hours the most self-indulgent, healing 24 hours you’d ever experienced. Quiet breakfast at a cafe? Planned. Self-improvement books? Downloaded. Vibrator? Fully charged. 

No man was going to keep you from focusing on the internship you’d been gunning for for years. No man was worth that. You were going to cry, you were going to journal, you were going to masturbate, and you were going to get him out of your head.

You were going to march into the quaint little coffeeshop two blocks away that you’d Googled last night, you were going to order the cinnamon spice latte that an indie food blog had called “the epitome of fall,” and you were going to go for a nice, early morning walk.

Except you weren’t. 

Because the next morning, when you turned to leave after grabbing your drink from the barista, you saw Hotch sitting at the table by the window. And Hotch saw you. And you weren’t equipped to handle this situation, because you were only 4 pages into your self-help book so far and honestly, the smile that lit up his face when you made eye contact would’ve broken you even if you’d read all the ‘how to move on’ manuals the literary world had ever produced.

So you obeyed his beckoning hand and sat down. 

“Thought you’d be up to something much more exciting on your one day off.”

You smiled wryly. “This is exciting. I haven’t had coffee that wasn’t made out of an ancient breakroom pot or a hotel carafe in months.”

Hotch chuckled. “I’m afraid you’ve made a mistake by coming here. Breakroom coffee is going to be impossible to tolerate now.”

“That good, huh?”

“Better. Try it.”

His eyes on you, you took a sip of your latte, and swallowed the most delicious concoction you’ve ever tasted in your life.

“Holy shit.”

“Indeed,” Hotch confirmed, ignoring your vulgarity. “I’ve been coming here before work for years.”

“I hope you don’t mind if I impose on your hangout,” you laughed. “I haven’t tried many coffee shops around here, but I imagine this is hard to beat.”

“Not at all. But just know - this is my table.”

You grinned. “Understood.”

You still went on that walk. Still read that book. Still spent the day trying to think about anything else but the softness of that moment - you and Hotch sipping lattes, bathed in the light of the early morning sun.

But on Thursday, the next day, bright and early, you found yourself at that coffee shop again. This time, you took a seat at the table adjacent to his. He looked up and smiled.

“Glad you heeded my advice.”

You smiled back and gestured to the heaping pile of files in front of him. “Not like there’d be much room for me anyways.”

You finished your coffees in relative silence and left at the same time for the office.

Friday, you learned Hotch’s coffee order: flat white with an extra shot of espresso. 

Saturday, you happened to arrive before he did, so you ordered his drink and set it on his table. Ten minutes passed and you thought he wasn’t going to show up, but he soon bustled in looking frantic. You waved him over, and he smiled when he saw the coffee waiting for him.

“Sorry, got stuck on a phone call,” he apologized. Like you were expecting him. Like this was something you guys did now.

You supposed it was.

Sunday, you got called for a case before you even made it to the coffee shop. You sat down in the conference room at 6 am, groggy as all hell. Hotch entered after you and handed you a mug, saying nothing before moving to address the team.

There was a small sticky note attached to the mug that read, “It’s no cinnamon spice latte, but it’s caffeine just the same.”

You fought to keep a grin from splitting your face, and ignored the team’s knowing smirks.

The case was in a small town in Colorado. The motel the team was staying in was less than ideal because of the location - bare bones, broken heaters, probably had the same bedsheets since its opening over 50 years ago. There was a small coffee pot in your room, and after you arrived Sunday evening, you walked down the street to the small convenience store and bought a bag of ground coffee.

When you handed him the cup Monday morning, he looked at it like it was salvation itself. Which, judging by the dark circles under his eyes, it may well have been.

“Long night?” you asked, loading into the back of the SUV. 

“Always,” he responded from the front seat. He took a sip of the coffee. “I don’t mean to offend, but this is terrible.”

You gasped in mock indignation. “I’ll have you know that is genuine Folgers pre-ground gas station coffee.”

“It tastes like it was made in a toilet,” he grumbled. He took another sip and smirked at you in the rearview mirror.

You’d long stopped trying to get over him.

 After the case in Colorado, the team was given a merciful break from the rapid-fire calls they’d been caught up in the last few months. 

You and Hotch continued your pre-work ritual, showing up to the coffee shop earlier and earlier each day. For you, it was a conscious attempt to spend more time with him. He didn’t acknowledge the extra 20 minutes that had worked its way into the morning routine, but you could only hope his intentions were the same.

One particularly chilly fall day, you burst in the door 10 minutes later than your unofficial meeting time. Hotch shot you a patented raised eyebrow as you unwrapped your scarf and took your seat. 

“Overslept?”

“No,” you retorted, “I was trying to make breakfast and my stove stopped working. Again. Maintenance can’t come fix it for two days.”

“Did you eat?” he asked.

“No, I was just gonna grab a muffin or something here.”

He nodded and went back to his laptop.

The next day, you sat down to a metal thermos on your table.

“What’s this?” you asked him.

“Oatmeal,” he responded without looking up. “You said your stove was broken.”

You opened the thermos to a puff of brown sugar-scented steam and the feeling that your heart was going to burst out of your chest.

“Thank you,” you whispered, afraid your voice would crack if you spoke any louder.

He looked over at you with an expression softer than you’d ever seen him wear. “You’re welcome.”

 A week later, you’d miraculously worked your way through the backed-up deluge of paperwork from the last few cases, and after clicking through the morning’s emails, you slammed your laptop shut.

“We should go for a walk,” you said to Hotch, who somehow still had a stack of files in front of him that was threatening to surpass the table’s weight capacity. 

“A walk?” Hotch asked, looking at the aforementioned files as if he were afraid they’d hear him considering the idea of a break.

“Yeah,” you responded. “Come on. It’s so pretty outside, and it’s gonna be too cold soon. Besides, we’re more caught up with work than we have been in months.”

“Speak for yourself,” he quipped, but he packed his briefcase just the same.

It really was beautiful outside. As soon as you stepped out the door, a gust of wind sent red and orange leaves skittering across the sidewalk at your feet. You wrapped your scarf tighter around your neck and motioned to the park across the street.

“Want to walk through the park?”

Hotch shrugged, a noncommittal ‘yes’, and followed you.

The park was sprawling, packed with massive trees in the midst of displaying their autumnal colors. Despite the early hour, there were joggers and dog-walkers populating the dirt path that meandered through. You strolled side by side, making idle chat about the weather and the holidays coming up, until you came to a bench set beside a pond in a small grove. Hotch took a seat and you followed his lead.

Reclining your head against the back of the bench, you exhaled. “This is the closest I’ve come to being out in nature in forever. I need to do this more often.”

Hotch murmured his agreement. “I’d apologize for the lack of free time, but I’m afraid it only gets worse.”

“When you officially join the team, you mean?”

“Yes.” He cleared his throat. “Assuming that’s something you’re interested in.”

“Of  course I am,” you said, “but I didn’t think it was really up to me.”

“It’s not - I give the final recommendation.”

“Better start buying you more coffees then,” you teased, looking over at him.

“Unfortunately, as Unit Chief, I have a responsibility not to accept bribery.” He smiled back.

For a moment, neither of you spoke. You studied his face - the stern curve of his brow, the carved structure of his jaw, the stress lines set in from decades of sleepless nights and unspeakable losses. Despite the increasing time you’d been spending in close proximity, you were mesmerized, as always, by the stormy intensity of his eyes meeting yours. You were close enough to smell his cologne, and you were reminded of the night in his apartment when he told you about his family. If you thought you’d fallen for him then, it was nothing compared to how you felt now, after starting each morning sitting beside him in the quiet peace of that downtown coffee shop.

“We should get going,” he murmured, not checking his watch, not shifting his gaze from yours. You nodded, not fully comprehending his words, feeling dazed at his nearness.

It was impossible to tell who made the first, imperceptible shift. All you knew is you scarcely had time to think before his hand was on your jaw, cradling the back of your head, bringing you to him. His mouth met yours and you closed your eyes instinctively, melting into his warm body beside you, fisting the front of his jacket in your hands.

You couldn’t remember ever having been kissed so decisively before. His fingers gripped into the base of your skull, his forehead nearly pressed against yours, and despite the chastity of your closed mouths, you whimpered into his. He stiffened at the sound and pulled back, still holding you, inches away.

You saw the shift in his eyes before he moved. It was as if he consciously closed some gate, walling himself off. His pupils, blown, started to retract to their normal size, frown returned, hand drew back. You watched, heart still racing, unable to speak as he turned to grab the briefcase sitting at his feet. Only then did he look back at you.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, and if his low voice was meant to betray any hint of emotion, you didn’t hear it. 

He stood, walked around the back of the bench towards the path, and paused.

“I’ll see you at the office.”

You were too shell-shocked to reply.

[bowieandqueen11]

I’m An Idiot / Richie Tozier Fluff

Request: Hi! I was wondering if I could have a Richie x reader (18 years old) where he has had a crush on the reader since the whole IT situation but never acted on it until he hears they are moving to go and attend college and it’s a whole sweet thing where he is outside her house practicing what to say and she hears it through her window or something? Idk if that’s clear or not. Thank you! Also I LOVE your writings! Hope you have a wonderful day/night! 💕 

It’s been so long since I’ve written for Richie holy moly but this is so cute!!

Warning, some strong language!

Reblogs and comments much appreciated!

Richie Tozier couldn’t stop hopping.

When he woke up, shoving his duvet on the floor and grabbing the first Hawaiian shirt laying askew on his desk chair, he was shaking. When he shoved Eddie’s face out of the way as he tripped over him on the way to his door, he was trembling, although Eddie only snorted and rolled over in his sleeping bag to go back to snoring. If he knew that he was actually doing this, if Bill knew, although he was still sprawled out and half falling off the beanbag, that he was finally going to muster up the courage to confess to you before you left the Losers, he would never hear the end of it. When he shut the front door, squeezing his lips together so as not to wake his parents, he was beginning to jump from foot to foot.

‘Come on, Tozier, you fought a child eating clown. You’ve got the high score on every game in the Arcade. Heck, you’ve even made Eddie Spaghetti laugh out loud and spit his milkshake all over Ben’s face. You’re hilarious, you’re a fantastic catch-’

Kicking a can off of the road, he sighed to himself as he passed Derry library, his breath fogging up his glasses in the early modern light.

‘Who are you kidding, you’re just a Loser. She’s totally going to reject you. Shit!’

Crunching over the grass by the school, he finally hopes on his breaking down, creaking bike, and fills the empty streets with the sound of his wheels spinning and his heart thumping with each cycle. The dew shines in the first rays of the rising sun, brightening his sneakers with a glint as his tracks leave their own footprints on the grass - the only path to show that had been there.

He didn’t mean to reach you at sunrise, but he had found himself sleepless last night. He had expected you round at the Losers’ sleepover last night, but you had to phone up late and inform him that you had to start packing. Mike had been the one to find him, just leaning his head against the wall with the phone still hanging limply in his hand. He had to place his hands firmly around his shoulders to pull Richie away, leading him back into the others with a tight grip, but Richie was gone, far away, as if he was disappearing in his grip like a ghost. Eddie was about to say something later that night, but the look of fear, and dejection on Richie’s face when he slipped under his covers and just turned his back to the others, made him stop and just settle down in his freshly pressed sleeping bag.

The morning, thankfully, wasn’t as grey, but soothing lavender and brilliant lander started to break out from behind the clouds, merging behind his raven hair into neon pinks and peaches.

Finally arriving at your house, he dumped his bike on your lawn and ran around to face your bedroom. Little did he know, that you were also awake, still thinking about your phone call last night. Placing your hand on your windowsill, you sigh as you just stop for a moment, ignoring the boxes in the corner of your eye and instead just leaning by your net curtains. 

Behind the glass, and the fabric, was the ever changing art of the sky, and the boy you couldn’t see yet below it, who was desperately trying to put into words the ever exploding feelings in his heart. There was such a feeling of nervousness, of joy, of electricity in the air, a sense that secrets were about to be whispered into the transitory and eternal air, changing and constant and not able to be swallowed in again.

Stopping suddenly, you start to hear a squeaking voice warble out from down below.

‘Y/n, these feelings I have for you are embedded in my - come on, are you five, that sounds so dirty. Even when a clown was trying to turn into a werewolf and eat my fear or whatever, or when we went into that crack house, I was never afraid, because you were with me. I’m scared, that if you go, I’ll vanish as well.’

You reach out towards your curtains and draw them aside softly. You have to blink away the sun for a moment as it comes in and bathes through the square of light in bright gold, warming the wood by your toes and bathing your face. You nearly choke with laughter at the sight of Richie Tozier pacing your garden, gesticulating wildly to himself as he swings about. He stops, nearly skidding as he throws his hands down in defeat.

‘We are two halves, but we make a whole- that’s so cheesy, you sound like Benny boy now.’

‘You’re my real family. You’re the only person who really actually gets me and I-I, shit man, you can’t do a Bill now. I love you. It’s just as simple as that. I love you, and I’m terrified. Damn, Trashmouth, that's not half bad.’

He nearly jumps out of his skin when you slide your window open and shout down at him.

‘Trashmouth, are you trying to wake the whole neighbourhood up?’

‘Why the hell are you up? I thought only creeps and nerds were up this early!’

‘Is that why you’re here?’

‘I thought I’d try out my new material on the best clown I know!’

A muscle twitches involuntarily at the corner of his right eye, his mouth forming a rigid grimace as he looks up at your raised eyebrows and slight smirk.

‘How much, exactly, did you hear of my musing?’

He folds his arms over his Freese’s shirt and flowing Hawaiian as he begins to hop from foot to foot again. Never one to keep still, he tries to keep his mind off your answer as you think above him. He tears his head away from your head, as it pops out the side of the window and dangles down at him like an angel floating in a halo of silver above his head, trying not to focus on the way your words would either see the dawn of his hope, or snap his dreams right in two. 

Instead he nudges his glasses a little higher on his nose, as if the thought the midnight rims should pay attention too - silently focusing together. 

‘If it makes you feel any better, I feel the same way too.’

‘W-what?’

‘Would you just get up here before my parents wake up?’

Richie doesn’t waste any time to grab a hold of the ivy climbing on the crumbling bricks, his feet slipping and sliding to try and keep up with his scrabbling as he tears up the side of your house. He’s so quick, you don’t know where he is until his nose bumps against yours, and he nearly collides straight against your mouth, the only thing barring the two of you being his glasses.

‘What did you just say?’

His expression is uncharacteristically serious, and yours is so bright in response. He wonders if you know how much that drives him crazy, how it makes him want to reach out and feel every curve of your skin, but instead he stays hovering a few inches away from your face, waiting for some miracle that his hearing quite hadn’t caught up with.

‘I said, I love you too, you idiot. What a time to tell me.’

‘Y-you love me?’

‘Would you hurry up and kiss me before you fall? Gosh knows you’ve waited about ten years too long.’

He rolls his eyes in that way he does when he's really happy but feeling too macho to show it, before he slightly wets his lips and lets himself fall forwards into your grasp. He melts into you, clumsily, and a little messily, but he manages to steady himself and reach up to cup your cheeks, lips desperate as they capture yours again and again, warm and tasting slightly like cherry, but so needy for you.

‘You’re right, I am an idiot.’ 

[suchalonelysunflower]

The Best One Yet

(Ashton Irwin X Reader || Fluff)

Summary: Reader surprises Ashton on his brithday 🥰✨

Warnings: Light sweating, mentions of smut (nothing going on here) maybe a few mistakes (not my first langueage 🥺)

Word Count: 1.8k

A/N: it’s not my best work but it’s just a little writing for my favorite person’s birthday 🥰 I have so much to say about him and what he means to me, and yet I still can’t find the words. Feedback is always welcome, so are reblogs and comments. I love to hear from you guys, you always make my day 💙 You can finas my other works HERE

Ps: this is my favorite gif of him I mean 🥺 look at his smile 🥺❤️

He was dreaming when the buzz of his phone woke him up. He doesn’t remember what he was dreaming about, but he knows it must’ve been a good dream because you were in it. With a groan, the black-haired man turned around to find the other side of the hotel bed empty, sighing as he remembered that you were thousands of miles away from him.

With one eye opened, he stretched his arm to grab the little buzzing machine that shook the nightstand with every vibration, bringing it to his ear as he muttered a small “hello?”

“Happy Birthday to you,

Happy birthday to you,

Happy birthday dear Ashton,

Happy birthday to you”

The sound of your voice immediately brought a smile to his tired face, making his stomach filled with butterflies

“Happy birthday, baby” You said lovingly through the phone “Hope I didn’t wake you up. I’m not really sure what time zone you are in right now”

“I needed to wake up anyway. Thanks, love. I really needed to hear your voice”

You hummed “Even my off-key awkward rendition of happy birthday?”

“Baby, even if you read the dictionary I wouldn’t get tired of listening to you” he laughed “I miss you so much”

“I miss you too, Ash. More than you can imagine” a comforting silence fell upon you both, you missed each other terribly. But you won’t let that ruin his day “So, tell me. What do you have plan for today?”

Ashton went on about the interviews they have planned, how he was actually excited to go sightseeing around the city since they’ve never been there before. He complained about how they wouldn’t have enough time for a proper sound check but the venue was great and it sold out in a matter of days. You loved to listen to him talk about his tour life. He was made for it, no doubt. Bringing the same amount of passion and energy every single night without missing a beat. He loved it and you love him.

“I think the boys are planning to go out after the concert to celebrate. But I don’t know…”

“What?”

“It’s just not the same without you here”

It was the first birthday in years that he celebrated without you. Hell, it was even the first tour in a long time that you weren’t beside him all the way. He understood that you were needed in LA, having just inaugurated your first business, and he was oh so very proud of you. But he hated the fact that that kept you away from him.

Ashton would never admit it to his fellow band mates, but he was utterly jealous of the fact that they all had their significant other tagging along with them and you weren’t there. He needed you more than the air itself, and he hated pretending that everything was fine because it clearly wasn’t.

He tries though. He sends you pictures of things that reminded him of you, goofy selfies he took backstage of him and the boys and you talked every single day, weather it was a phone call or facetime or just a simple text. Showing you how much he loves you in every possible way. But that didn’t change the fact that his heart aches every time he has to say goodbye to you, or when he reaches for you in the mornings only to find the other side of the bed empty. It wasn’t easy, but he couldn’t wait to be by your side once again.

“I know, bub” you said sadly “But don’t let that get in the way of your special day! We will be together sooner than you think, I promise”

“Sooner can’t come soon enough. I need you” he whined

“Me too, Ash. I’m so bumped I can’t give you a proper birthday morning celebration”

He caught up your teasing tone immediately “Yeah? How would – What would you do?”

“Well… I would start by kiss-“you were interrupted by some loud background noises, cutting you off completely “Agh, sorry Ash. I need to go. Something just came up. But we’ll talk later, okay?”

“Okay” said Ashton, not trying to hide the disappointment from his voice.

“I know it’s not easy, bub. But try to enjoy your day, yeah? I’ll have a surprise waiting for you at the end of the day”

“I’ll do my best, doll” he smiled through the phone “I love you”

“I love you more”

After you hanged up, you turned around to see Luke smirking at you. You rolled your eyes.

“Was it really necessary to push my luggage to the floor?”

“Sorry” he said laughing “But I was not willing to listen to you guys have phone sex so early in the morning” you rolled your eyes again at your best friend, but you couldn’t contain the smile that came with it “Did he suspect anything?”

“He has no clue. Thank you so much for doing this”

You were sitting at the edge of the bed of your hotel room. The guys planned this whole thing to surprise Ashton on his birthday, knowing how bad he missed you.

“No need to thank us, love” Luke said, helping you with the last of your bags “We were just so tired of his gloomy face and we also did miss you”

You got up and went to hug the tall boy, thanking the starts above for giving you such amazing friends.

“You know the plan, right?”

“Yes, I’ll wait here until the driver comes to pick me up and drive me to the venue. I got it” you answered, unable to hide your enthusiasm.

“He’s gonna be so happy when he sees you” Luke said while placing a kiss on your forehead “I already bet Michael that he’s gonna cry”

“You’re kidding! Count me in!” you laughed. Wondering how you would manage to keep your happiness in until the time comes.

 Ashton’s day wasn’t as awful as he thought it would be. He has a nice breakfast with his brothers, a videocall with his family and he saw a lot of cute projects for him in social media. The interviews went smoothly, all of them with a little surprise for him. Visiting the city was his favorite part, he truly loved how much culture was scattered around the streets, each one more interesting than the other. He sent you countless of pictures, not knowing that you were just a few minutes away, smiling every time your name popped out on his screen.

It was almost time for the concert and his mood has increasingly improved. He did his routine without missing a step and was more than ready to jump on stage.

At the same time, you were getting up in the car that was going to drive you to the venue. You and the boys agreed to do it in the middle of the show, so you had to be very careful not to run into him. Your legs were jumping up and down with anticipation, your smile never fading at the thought of seeing you boyfriend again.

Ashton felt the adrenaline running through his veins and he hit the final beats on the drums. It was time for “Amnesia” so he was thankful to get a small break to catch his breath. His eyes met Calum’s as he got closer to drink some water, furrowing his brows in confusion when he saw Calum grin suspiciously.

“You guys are amazing!” Luke said into the mic, grabbing Ashton’s attention “And, as you may know, today’s the birthday of someone very special to us”

The crowd cheered loudly, making Ashton blush and smile to the ground. Suddenly self-conscious of Andy and his camera crew surrounding him in expectation.

“He is the drummer of our band, the most kind soul to ever walk the earth, the most talented motherfucker there is, the father of our little band here and the sweatiest man alive” Luke continued, turning to face the drummer “Ashton Fletcher Irwin everybody!”

You could hear the fans screaming from the side of the stage, but all your focus was on the smiling boy that sat in a stool. It was almost time before Luke gives the signal, you were so nervous and happy at the same time. Maybe you would be the one to cry after all.

“We have a little surprise for our hype man up here, but I need all of you to sing with me, okay?” That was it. That was the signal. You took a deep breath before starting to walk towards them.

Ashton smiled at the fans while the first notes of “Happy Birthday” ranged through his ears. He confidently stood up from his seat so he could take all of that love in. It wasn’t until Calum shouted a “mate!” that he could catch a glimpse of you walking towards him with a huge cake in your hands.

“Holy fuck!” He yelled as his eyes winded. Not wasting any second jumping out of the drum stage and running towards you.

Michael was quick to grab the cake from your hands before your body crashed into Ashton’s. He grabbed you by the waist, making you jump and wrap your legs around his torso as he spin you around, laughing like a child. Once he stopped, you cupped his face and brought him into a kiss.

The crowd roared and cheered, but you couldn’t hear them, not anymore. You were lost inside the long awaited kiss. Numbed to the outside world as your hands found their way to tangle into Ashton’s curls. Not caring about the sweaty mess that was you boyfriend, but concentrating on the way your lips melted into each other, saying everything that needed to be said.  Relishing on the fact that you were, once again, together.

“You’re here!” said Ashton in disbelief, laughing as he couldn’t contain his happiness “I can’t- H-how?!”

He put you down and wrapped his arms around you once more, pulling you even closer to him.

“You have to thank your band mates” You said, trying to contain the tears “They planned this whole thing”

Ashton lifted his gaze and looked at his three best friends, all of them with a grin on their faces “Thank you” he muttered “Thank you so much”

The three of them didn’t hesitate to join the hug, making it a little bit more messy and sweaty than it already was. Separating only when a crew member appeared with the cake that was long forgotten at the side of the stage. Ashton’s grip didn’t stuttered for a second as he blew the candles.

“What’d you wish for?” you asked.

“Nothing!” He said as he kissed you one more time “I got my wish right here. How could this get any better?”

You kissed his cheek and whispered into his ear “I got a couple of ideas… I did promise you a surprise later, no?” you teased and started to walk away, leaving the boys to finish the concert.

Ashton groaned as he caught your devilish grin “You’re gonna be the death of me, doll” he shouted at you, making you laugh.

He turned around and walked back to his drum kit, smile never fading as he thought that this was, without a doubt, his best birthday yet.

[tweedlydumbtweedlydoo]

Mistake: Rafe Cameron x reader (pt. 5)

Summary:  You, a pogue and Rafe Cameron, a kook are friends of benefits, secretly of course. But what happens when you get pregnant?

Pairings: former rafe cameron x reader // currently John B x reader (wonder how long teehee) 

**MISTAKE MASTERLIST**

A/N: I named this Mistake, so it would be easier to list on my masterlist! Hope you guys are holding on because this is the beginning of a rollercoaster of emotions. 

A/N: I hit 1000 followers last night. It was a happy thing to wake up to this morning. I know I say this all the time but I truly mean it from the bottom of my heart, THANK YOU SO SO MUCH. When I got back into writing months ago, I never thought I would make it this far or that any one would even read my writings, but you guys have proven me wrong. Thank you to everyone who follows, likes, reblogs, comments, or just lurks on my page. lol I love you guys so much. You ALL are beautiful human beings <3 

Tag list is at the end. Let me know if you want to be added xx

OBX Tag list

Criminal Minds Tag list

The Vampire Diaires/The Originals Tag list

Supernatural Tag list

All of my works Tag list

**MASTERLIST**

Requests: OPEN {CLOSED}

I am currently taking requests for:

The Vampire Diaries/The Originals

Elijah Mikaelson

Damon Salvatore

Criminal Minds:

Spencer Reid

Derek Morgan

Supernatural (I’m only up to season 2, so please don’t request something with spoilers)**

Sam Winchester

Dean Winchester

Outer Banks (Netflix):

John B Routledge

JJ Maybank

Rafe Cameron

********************************************************************************************NOT MY GIF, CREDIT TO OWNERS

Instead of getting ice cream, the two of you agreed to go on the date. So, John B went home to shower and get ready and you did the same. Just as you were about to dry your hair, a knock sounded on your door. John B never knocks and he’s early.

“coming!” You call out, walking toward the door. When you open it, Rafe’s standing there with a small bouquet of flowers.

He scratches the back of his neck and gives you a smile, “Hey.”

“Hey…” You glance over his shoulder and then back at him, “What are you doing here?”

He motions inside and you nod, opening the door wider and stepping out of the way before closing it behind him.

“I wanted to bring you these to apologize for the other night proposing like I did. I also wanted to see if you’d go to the Midsummer’s party with me?” He set the flowers on your counter and faces you.

“Midsummer’s party? I’m a pogue I can’t go to that. That’s for you guys.”

He shakes his head, “I want you to go as my date. You can meet my family properly. It’ll be fun.”

You bite your lip, “I don’t know Rafe.”

“Please? I want you to go with me as my date. I don’t want to take someone else.” He takes your hands in his, “I want you by my side, walking in. It’s kind of a big deal for us. My dad’s the guest of honor.”

“When is it?”

“This weekend.”

You shake your head, “I don’t have anything fancy enough to wear, Rafe.”

“I’ll take you shopping. We can go Friday after your doctor appointment. Spend the afternoon on the mainland like we used too; lunch and shopping, on me?” His eyes are pleading, “Please?”

You finally nod, agreeing, “Okay. Fine.” You’d actually completely forgot about your appointment. Good thing Rafe remembered. 

“I’ll pick you up at 10 Friday morning?” 

“What time is my appointment again?” You pour some water in a vase and set the flowers down in it, setting it on the kitchen table. 

“uh...” He pulls his phone out, checking the calendar, “It’s at 11, but they said they wanted us there at 10:30 for paperwork.” He shows you his phone, pointing to the appointment. 

You look at him, impressed, “You’ve got a calendar?” 

His cheeks flush pink, “I didn’t want to miss anything. I put it in the calendar when they told us at the hospital. It’s obviously a good thing I did because you didn’t remember.” 

You laugh and nod, “I’m pretty sure I was on pain meds when they told me so, I’m off the hook for that one.” 

He chuckles, “you were pretty out of it. Anyways, I’m heading to play golf at the club, so I’ll see you Friday morning?” 

“10 o clock sharp.” 

He smiles, “Bye.” Before stepping out and closing the door behind him. 

~

An hour later there was another knock at the door. You looked in the mirror and fluffed your hair before heading toward the door. There stood John B in one of his nicer shirts and one single flower.

You smiled at the sight, “Hi.”

“Hey.” He hands you the flower, “Saw this on the side on the side of the road and I know how much you love them.”

You put the flower to your nose, “You know me so well.”

“So, I have the whole evening planned.” He holds his arm out to you, “Shall we get going?”

You giggle, grabbing your purse and loop your arm with his, “Yes we shall.”

He leads you to the van, opening the door for you and helping you inside. He closes the door and rounds the van to get in the driver side.

You slip on your seat belt as he starts the van.

~

He pulls into the driveway of the chateau and you look over at him, “John B what do you have planned?”

He gives you a smirk, “You’ll see.” He hops out of the van and leads you out to the dock. Inside his boat is a cooler, blanket and a small basket. “We are going to have dinner on the water tonight. I know how much you love the sunsets on the water.”

You smile and look up at him, “Sounds amazing.”

He steps over into the boat and then holds his hand out for you, which you take, and he helps you step over into the boat. He starts the boat as you slip your shoes off and put them in your bag, tying your hair back. He makes his way down the boat, untying it from the dock and then pushes from the dock. As he takes his seat, you go to your usual spot there in front of him and sit down.

~

He drives around through the marsh a little before picking the perfect spot to watch the sunset over the water.

You stand to go help him with the anchor, but he stops you, “No ma’am. I’ll do it.”

You laugh and sit back down, “Okay, captain.”

He drops the anchor and makes sure it’s secure, “There. Now we can eat.” He jumps down off the front of the boat and lays the blanket out before taking a seat and patting the spot next to him.

You jump up from your seat and sit next to him, “So what’s on the menu?”

He smiles sheepishly, “Nothing fancy but peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.”

“Please tell me it isn’t the same bread JJ ate the other day with the mold on it?” You scrunch up your nose in disgust.

He chuckles, shaking his head, “No. I went out and bought new bread.”

You nod, laughing, “Okay good.”

~

The two of you enjoyed your meal, talking and laughing. The sun began to set over the water and gave off an orange glow. He’d fixed himself against the boat and let you slip next to him, head on his chest.

“Y/n?” He asks.

“Yes?” You tilt your head to look up at him.

His finger traces shapes on your back, “Do I have a chance? I mean with you?”

You look down for a second, gathering your thoughts and then look back up at him, “Yeah. Maybe.”

“So if I wanted to..” His finger goes under your chin, “If I wanted to kiss you, you wouldn’t pull away?”

You glanced at his lips, then back at his eyes, shaking your head, “I won’t pull away.”

Slowly the two of you met and your lips connect. This wasn’t like the first time you two had kissed. He’d caught you off guard in the worst moment but this. This wasn’t unexpected. You were ready for it and to be honest, you didn’t want it to stop.

His hand moves to your cheek and you sit up, hands going into his hair as you swing your legs over his lap, straddling him. His body sits up a little, hands in your hair then hands at your back, pulling you closer to him. Your hands are in his hair and at his neck. You didn’t want him to pull away.

He slowly lays you back down on the blanket and hovers over you. Your hands tug at his shirt and he pulls back a little. Both of your lips are red and swollen and breathing heavily, “Are you sure?”

You nod, “I’m sure.” and pull him back in for another hungry kiss. You two make love right there on the blanket as the sun sets slowly behind you.

~

You don’t remember falling asleep but the sound of a phone ringing and the sun rising above you are what woke you up. You groan and try to move, but something’s holding you there. When you open your eyes, you’re met with John B’s face. His mouth slightly opened. You gently traced marks on his bare chest, “John B…” You whispered and began peppering his chest with kisses.

He slowly stirs, pulling you closer to him, “Well good morning..” He smirks.

“Good morning.” You smile, kissing him, “Your phone is going off.”

He groans, “It’s not important. Lay back down.” He says as you try to get up.

“I have to see who it is.” You laugh, pulling away from his body and slipping on his shirt, grabbing his phone from the small compartment at the wheel, “It’s JJ.” You say walking back over to him and handing it to him. You start picking up the clothes and then take a seat next to him.

“Hello?”

“John B! Where the hell are you man? We had plans to go fishing. We’re all waiting here at the dock for you!”

He groans, running his hand over his face, “Shit, JJ I completely forgot. We’ll be there soon.”

“We? Who’s we? Are you with-”

“Bye JJ!” He quickly hangs up, both of you bursting into laughter.

“Oops.” You laugh, handing him his boxers and shorts. Leaning over you press a kiss to his lips, “We better head back.”

He pulls you onto his chest and kisses you, “They can wait a few more minutes.” Let’s just say it was longer than a few more minutes.

~

The two of you managed to finally pull away from each other and get dressed. You had tried giving John B back his shirt, but he shook his head, “Looks better on you.”  So, he went shirtless.

As he drove the boat, you sat on his leg, fiddling with his hair. You could see the pogues waiting on the dock at the Chateau as you drove up.

“is that y/n?” Kie asked as you guys got closer, pushing her glasses down on her nose.  

“Holy shit! Dude!” JJ laughed when he realized it was you on his lap and in his shirt, “No fucking way.”

“So, this happened?” Pope asks, grabbing the edge of the boat as John B drifts in, holding it while Kie and JJ stepped in, then jumping in his self.

“Nice one dude!” JJ says, holding his hand out for a high five.

You roll your eyes and John B slaps it away.

“Okay we forgive you for being late.” Pope says, taking a seat.

Kie raises an eyebrow at you and you get up from John B’s lap and go to sit next to Kie to give her all the details.

~

“That sounds so romantic!” Kie gushed.

You giggle and nod, “It really was. I mean the night was perfect. I couldn’t have asked for a better first date with John B.”

“So, I take it you have your answer then? You’re picking John B?” Kie asks, looking at the front of the boat to make sure the boys weren’t listening. They were focused on fishing.

Biting your lip, you look at John B. He laughed at something Pope said and glanced back over his shoulder at you, flashing a smile. You returned the smile and then looked at Kie, nodding, “He’s it for me.”  

~

As you guys made your way through marina, another boat passed by. You were seated on John B’s lap as he drove, his arm wrapped around your hip.

“I think that’s Topper and Sarah.” JJ says, “That boat is like 50 grand. easy.”

“It is a nice boat.” Pope adds. “Guess that’s what you can drop 50 grand on when you’re a kook.”  

You watched as Sarah tilted her sunglasses at you two, shaking her head before turning her attention back to Topper. “What was that about?” You ask, looking at John B.

“Not sure. No telling with the kook princess. Maybe she’s just jealous of us or something.” He gives your hip a squeeze and kisses your shoulder.

You nod but can’t help but look back at the boat as they passed by. Was it because of Rafe or something else?

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*if your name is crossed out, tumblr is being stupid and won’t let me tag you :(

All my works tag list:  @blossomreed​

[itshardcandy]

Strawberry Flavor - Part 1

Pairing: Kim Seokjin x Reader, Min Yoongi x Reader, Park Jimin x Reader

8789 Words

Genre: Fluff, Idiots Friends to lovers, crack

Warnings: None except some super light swearing, an unhealthy obsession for Jimin’s cakes ( I think i might have a problem idk ) and some light flirting ( I tried to create some mild tension at the end... not sure I did it right ) 

Summary: What’s a girl to do when her handsome colleague, her sweet business partner and her mysterious, piano playing friend compete for 1st place on the list of her favourite people?  

Heavily inspired by the “Another Story” individual stories in the BTS World game but with a twist. The final pairing isn’t fully decided, yet, so if you have some input or some suggestions or just a burning desire for me to twist the story into a certain direction please let me know and maybe we can work something out ;) 

IPlease don’t hesitate to give feedback and like & reblog if you enjoyed <3

______

“Strawberry Flavor! Strawberry Flavor, where are you?”

Hotel-service intern Kim Seokjin rushed into the kitchen of the hotel restaurant to find you, his colleague and only friend in this hell of an establishment,

“Yah, Strawberry Flavor! This is important, where are you?”

He knew the kitchen area would be empty at this time, save for you. Most of your colleagues had already clocked out for the night but you usually stayed longer to wait for Seokjin to finish his shift as well. Which is why he busted through the doors of the locker room, guns blazing, to find you already waiting for him and packing your things,  

“Ah, there you are! Didn’t you hear me?”

Accusingly, he thrust his hands in your direction, which were full of laundry items. You turned around, wide-eyed and flabbergasted at Seokjin’s dramatic entrance in the break room,

“Kim Seokjin, I swear on all that’s holy in this world, one of these days I will bash your head in with a frying pan, if you yell at me like that again!”

You pointed at his smug face and tried to look like you actually meant it,

“I could have been changing in here, you punk! Don’t you have any manners? Jeez, you give a guy leftover chicken and suddenly he thinks he owns the place…”,

Jin took a moment to process your words before he smiled at you and rolled his eyes,

“Ah, Strawberry Flavor, I’m sorry, I’m just so excited! You said there’s more leftover chicken again today, what am I supposed to do? Stay calm?”

You didn’t actually mean anything you said, of course, you adored your tall, handsome and broad-shouldered colleague and were glad that you had become friends. Or so he liked to think, at least,

“Yes! That is absolutely what you are supposed to do!”

You tried to answer without a smile creeping on your face but seeing Jin just did that to people. He was handsome, sure, but his face, when he got a little worked up over something, was one the funniest things known to mankind,

“You know I can’t be held responsible for my actions when chicken is involved…”

He dropped his gaze and kicked at imaginary dirt on the ground. You took a deep breath and remembered that Seokjin was essentially an overgrown child with an even more overgrown appetite,

“I saved it for you, no one’s going to steal it”

You said and Jin huffed, pouting at you,

“Ok…”

You noticed the laundry in his hands just now,

“Did Areum give you more laundry, again?”

You asked as you pointed at the various blankets and stuffed animals he was carrying,

“She said she wants them dry cleaned by tomorrow morning. How am I supposed to do that? Everyone already left…”

He explained and you sighed. That girl knew how to keep him on his toes,

“Well, you just have to come in early tomorrow and beg the guys from laundry to run an express load”

You checked the contents of your purse, before turning back to Seokjin again,

“Hm, you’re right. I should drop this in the laundry bins, right? Be right back!”

He mumbled and turned on his heels to leave,

“Can you heat the chicken up for me, please? Thank you”

You heard him say as the doors closed behind him. You shook your head and let out a long breath,

“This guy really has no shame”

You said to yourself as you grabbed your things and went to work on the chicken for Jin, so you both could finally leave, as soon as he got back.

------

As you walked along the beach promenade, a Tupperware in hand containing Jin’s chicken, you listened to him munch on a piece of it while he tried to recount all events of the day to you. Apparently, the lady, who had been staying in 306 for the last week, wasn’t as sweet as you thought. Jin told you about this morning, when he went to bring her breakfast to her room and she pinched his butt while he was on the way out. His eyes almost bulged out of his head, he was so invested in his own story,

“And then she said the bacon looks good this morning! The bacon, Strawberry Flavor! As in MY bacon! Can you believe?!”

Were he not so busy to stuff his mouth full of the wings you had saved for him, he would have ranted on about it for hours,

“No, Jin, I can’t, in fact, believe”,

“I know it looks good, I have eyes, after all, but just pinching my bacon like it was a cheap side dish…”

“Absolutely outrageous”

You commented while typing away on your phone. You knew by now that you just needed to pay attention at the right moment to appease Jin’s ego,

“Exactly!”

He flung his hand around and looked like he tried to fight someone with the chicken leg, that he was currently holding,

“Did you say anything to her? Or did you just do that creepy customer-service fake smile”

You asked, already knowing that, even if Jin talked a big game now, he probably just squeaked like a squirrel when the thirsty grandma felt him up and looked like a deer caught in the headlights when she shut the door in his face. Deep down, he probably enjoyed the attention, though,

“No, I didn’t. can’t risk an additional complaint from any of the guests with all the negative points I keep scoring with Areum…”  

He mumbled and his puffed chest deflated a bit at that,

“Ah Seokjin, don’t worry! I’m sure Areum will see soon how much effort you put into everything she makes you do!”

You patted his shoulder reassuringly and handed him a tissue to wipe the spicy chicken sauce off his face,

“Thanks, Strawberry Flavor, you always know what to say…”

Unbeknownst to you, Jin was thankful for more than just your kind words and company today. He was thankful for a lot more when it came to you and the chicken was only the cherry on top of the biggest, most delicious scoop of heart-shaped ice cream, he had ever imagined in his life.

When you two met on the day you were examined as a potential addition to the kitchen staff at the hotel, he didn’t think you’d become such an integral part of his life but he’s certainly thankful things played out the way they did. Even though he wishes he was brave enough to ask you for more, he is content to just be the best friend to you, that he could be. You deserved it. If not for you, he would have been kicked out of the hotel multiple times already because he just kept messing up so much. Most of the kitchen staff still avoided him because of the wedding cake incident a few months back. He cringed inwardly; it had not been pretty,

“And even if she doesn’t and tells Manager about all your shortcomings and he kicks you out, you can count on me to save you chicken from time to time!”

He almost chokes on said chicken when he has to laugh at your poor attempt to lighten the mood,

“Jin, you need to swallow!”

He could only laugh harder and it made you smile,

“Yah! Stop laughing! You’re gonna choke! I don’t know any first aid…”

You clapped him on the back and he slowly calmed down, still cackling like a little kid. You wanted to see him laugh like this more often, lately, because interning at the hotel wasn’t working out so well for him. He had a lot of difficulties with the service and it didn’t help that he was assigned as Areum’s caretaker during the time she would be staying at the hotel. That little girl… you knew she was only 7 but she drove you up the wall sometimes. Especially when she scolded Jin for all the things he did wrong, which was a regular occurrence,

“I’m fine, I’m fine, do you have any more tissues, though?”

Jin asked and you dug around your purse until you found one. He coughed roughly and then took a deep breath,

“Phew… Let’s just hope Manager keeps me around a little longer, yeah?”

He smiled at you and you nodded,

“He has to, or I’m going on strike. See how he handles the rioting guests when there are no more Special Strawberry Flavor Pancakes around!”

Jin puts his arm around your shoulder and hugs you to his side a little awkwardly,

“Ahh, don’t do that, you’ll be fired, too! And then who will be my chicken hero?”

You cough out an awkward laugh at the physical contact and quickly try to get your bearings back,

“Ok, ok… I won’t go on strike”

“And I’ll figure something out with Areum… she’s just a kid, how hard could it be to find something she likes to do? Do you think maybe I should try bribing her with candy?”

You opened your mouth to answer when a familiar voice interrupted you,

“Hey Rice Cake, I’m over here!”

It was your roommate Park Jimin; passionate dancer and number 1 rice cake enthusiast. He was waiting for you at the bus stop like he usually did to pick you up after work. He insisted on doing so, even if he had to take a few extra buses after dance practice to get here.

You happily waved at him and turned to Jin to say goodbye for tonight,

“There’s my ride. Well, my companion for the bus ride, anyway… You should probably come up with something more creative than bribing a little girl with candy, though, ok? I’ll see you tomorrow! Good night!”,

“Yeah, ok… Good night, Strawberry Flavor”

He smiled and waved half-heartedly after you already turned around and walked towards your friend. Park Jimin seemed like a good guy, as far as he could tell; he obviously cared about you enough to go out of his way to get you home safe and in Jin’s books that was the least you deserved. Still, he would rather he was the one to accompany you on your way home.

 _________

As Jimin watched you say goodbye to your colleague he briefly wondered why you still let him be the one to take you home when there was this tall, good-looking man in your life, who, clearly, was head over heels for you. He had known the minute he met Kim Seokjin for the first time a few months ago, that the handsome hotelier had the hots on for you. He couldn’t fault the guy, though; he knew first-hand the power your pretty smile and beautiful personality held. If Jimin didn’t feel so insecure and small in the presence of the other man, maybe they could have become friends but all Jimin could see, was a really tall, handsome and impressively built obstacle in the way of his plan to get you to be his girl when he looked at Kim Seokjin.

Jimin loses his self-deprecating train of thought pretty quickly though, when you enter his personal space and hug his arm to your chest,

“Jiminahh, I had such a good day! I can’t wait to tell you all about it”

You smiled at him and for a few precious moments he just felt lucky to have you in his life at all. Kim Seokjin and his good looks be damned. He reached for your hand and took your bag to carry it for you. He knows you would never admit it, because you’re a strong, independent woman, who don’t need no man but you secretly loved that he did all these little things to make your life a little easier. Even if it was just carrying a bag, that, quote unquote: wasn’t even really that heavy,

“Yeah? Tell me about it”

He smiled down at you, as you both went to sit down on the bench and waited for the bus to arrive and take you home,

“It was my turn to decorate all the little pastries and cakes today! Well… after I fried a shit ton of chicken for the buffet in the conference room”

You answered and Jimin smiled to himself. Decorating cakes was one of your favourite things to do, even when you helped him out in your spare time in the little rice-cake shop he inherited from his late grandmother. He was quite good at it himself, too, having watched his grandma make and decorate rice cakes with a burning passion for years, but he let you do it whenever possible, just so he could watch your face scrunch up cutely in concentration when you bent over the sweet little treats and painted fantastic floral works of art on them,

“Sounds like you had a lot of fun today”

He commented and you nodded,

“I did. And Manager even said I did good today, so that was worth all the hours I spent covered in chicken grease afterwards”

You stifled a yawn after you said that and Jimin laughed quietly. You did actually smell faintly of fried chicken but honestly? That was just a bonus because you looked like a snack already.

Just as he was about to comment on your fried chicken smell, the bus rolled into the station and you took your seats and fell into a comfortable silence for the duration of the ride. It wasn’t too long of a way home but it was enough for you take a quick nap on your friend’s shoulder, before he gently shook you awake again, to signal the imminent arrival of the bus at your station. You followed Jimin outside and as the bus rode on peacefully, you walked the rest of the way towards the rice cake shop and the apartment you shared upstairs.

You felt thankful for it every time you set foot in your shared home because it had been the first good thing to happen to you in a long while. Starting off as Granny Park’s apprentice in the rice cake business, you first met Jimin as he was about to head out and handle some deliveries for the day. He was shy at first but quickly warmed up to you when he noticed how seriously you took your work and how respectful and hard-working you were with his grandmother. Granny Park taught you and her grandson how to make the most delicious little cakes and she had even let you live in the spare room in the apartment she shared with Jimin. She had given you so much and you were determined to prove worthy of her trust. Sadly, not long after she had taken you in and you and Jimin became close friends, she passed away and left you and her grandson to continue to run the shop. You and Jimin had made some significant changes to the way the shop operated and now, it ran more profitable than ever before.  You hoped Jimin could see how happy and grateful you still were now, months later.

Jimin dropped your bag in your room and you took a few minutes for yourself to change into more comfortable clothing and wash up. Even though you got to do something fun at work today, doesn’t mean you weren’t exhausted and ready to drop dead on the bed. You took your phone out of your bag and swan dived onto the sheets. A few notifications were waiting for you, including a few texts from Jin and Yoongi, another friend of yours. Apparently Jin had finished all the chicken before he arrived home, which was a new record for him and he had sent you a selfie of him and the empty Tupperware to prove it. You snickered and replied with a few thumbs up.

[You 20:34]: Glad u liked it! U know I never met anyone with such an unhealthy love for chicken, right?

[SeokJerk 20:35]: Ha… then stop feeding my addiction! Shaming me while enabling me… smh

[You 20:36]: Ugh why am I friends with u…

Jin sent an angel emoji and you decided that was enough Jin for today and then switched to Yoongi’s chat. It was just a series of pictures of a few different outfits and a question mark at the end. He was a man of few words. You knew Yoongi had an important gig coming up and he desperately needed your input, so it didn’t surprise you that he didn’t send an entire paragraph voicing his concerns about the wrong choice of attire. You answered with number 3 and a few flame emojis and heart eyes. Going for the fancy choice while also maintaining his casual style seemed like the best way to go. He replied a few seconds later with a thumbs up. Just as you were about to put down the phone, it dinged with another text from your roommate. Why he didn’t just knock and ask whatever it was he wanted, you didn’t know. He was probably being lazy like you right now.

[Mochi 20:46]: u still up? Netflix? Or u too tired?

You debated that for a second; it was only 9 pm, you could probably remain conscious for another 2 hours or so. Even though you had to pass by the hotel to meet Jin for lunch, you could sleep in.

[You 20:48]: Sure, u gotta come here tho bc I’m not moving

2 minutes later your door creaked as Jimin opened it and walked in the room with his laptop balanced on his arm,

“I picked something good this time, I swear”

He did, in fact, not pick something good.

________

 When you woke up the next morning, Jimin was already out and about, busy bee that he is. You didn’t have to worry about getting ready just yet, since you didn’t have to meet Jin for another few hours, so you enjoyed the feeling of your soft and warm sheets for a few more minutes and played around on your phone until there was nothing left to do but get up.

Should you have breakfast? A question you asked yourself every day, regardless of the fact that the answer was always no. So, you skipped the trip to the kitchen for now and jumped in the shower straight away.

You should take care of some boring chores and house work today, as well, preferably before you met Jin.

The rice cake shop was closed for today so you didn’t have to worry about the mess downstairs for now. Maybe Jimin had left out some treats for you to take with you. You would go through the shop and check when you left.

___________  

“Yah, Seokjin! Stop hoarding the sauce!”

You snatched the little bowl from under his nose while he was distracted and finally, you could dip your food into the spicy goodness,

“Leave some in there for other people”

You added and Jin tried to act like he didn’t know you were chastising him, of all people. It was no use anyway, so you changed the topic,

“Did you get Areum’s laundry done on time?”

Seokjin nodded his head, while chewing on a spoonful of rice,

“Luckily, yes. I owe the guys from laundry big time”

He swallowed the rice and took a deep, sobering breath,

“Don’t know what she would have done, if I didn’t show up with her favourite blanket, this morning…”

He visibly shuddered at the thought and you also felt an unpleasant tingle slide down the length of your spine,

“Let’s just be thankful you’re still in one piece, hm?”

You smiled sweetly at him and Jin briefly forgot what had him so shook just seconds ago. He watched you eat some grilled vegetables for a few moments until he snapped out of his reverie,

“Thank you for meeting me for lunch, Strawberry Flavor, it would have been so boring alone…”,

“You mean there would have been less food for you to devour”

You snickered to yourself and Jin huffed,

“Don’t make me look so bad, you brat! I’m still older than you, show some respect!”

He couldn’t help but smile at how, even he, couldn’t take himself seriously. You started laughing and had to put down the food you were about to put in your mouth,

“Alright, alright, I’m so sorry, Seokjin-Oppa… I promise I’ll be a good girl from now on, ok?”

You dragged out his name and your lips formed the most adorable little pout. Although he knew you were teasing him just now, Jin felt warmth flood his cheeks and he cleared his throat,

“Ah… yes… don’t worry about it, Strawberry Flavor”

He tried to sound casual but his voice betrayed him. Alas, he was but a man, sat in front of the prettiest woman he knew, trying not to look like the complete simp he was for you. A few moments of food-related silence ensured until you put down your bowl,

“I almost forgot, I brought these for you”

You suddenly started digging around in your purse and produced a little package wrapped in simple brown paper,

“These are from a batch Jimin and I made last night. They didn’t come out shaped as nicely as usual but I thought you wouldn’t mind having them, since we can’t sell them like this”

You held the package out to him and he put down his chopsticks to receive it,

“Seriously? You didn’t have to!”

He stumbled over his own words because he felt a little touched. You thought to bring him some of your lovely rice cakes? He unwrapped the package and found a colourful assortment of sweet rice treats in the paper,

He slapped a hand over his face in a theatrical way,

“Ahh, I can’t look at them for too long, they are so pretty! Strawberry Flavor, what are you doing to me…?”

You giggled happily like a little kid when you saw his reaction to the cakes and he had to smile,

“You have to look, though, if you want to eat them!”

You tried to gently lift his hand from his eyes,

“It’s too dangerous, I’ll go blind…”

He loved making you laugh, so he would ride this wave as long as you would let him,

“So, you’re never gonna look at my cakes again?”

Well. Not that he would mind looking at your cakes once in a while, he just felt really inappropriate doing so. Or were you talking about the rice cakes? Probably the more likely option…

“Don’t sound so disappointed”

He lifted his hand and put the cakes down on the table in front of him,

“What if I feed you one? You won’t have to look then”

“Ah, Strawberry Flavor, you’re so smart! I never would have thought of that”

You rolled your eyes at him but still you smiled. You picked up your chopsticks, lifted a rice cake from the package and held it to Jin’s lips. He slowly opened up and let you place the small treat inside his mouth.

You stared at him expectantly, eyes wide,

“Good?”

You asked and, even if the cakes didn’t taste as amazing and sweet as they did, Jin would have told you they were the most delicious thing he’s ever tasted. He closed his eyes and savoured the taste before he answered:

“They are amazing”

Your lips spread into a shy smile,

“Really?”

“Really”

“Maybe you can share them with the laundry staff as a thank you?”

You suggested and Jin’s eyes went wide in disbelief,

“Are you kidding? I may owe them but I don’t owe them enough for that”,

“You are impossible”,

“Impossible to please, yes, but these are pretty close to perfection”

He grinned and you tried to hide your smile,

“Now give me one more”

He opened his mouth and waited for you to feed him another rice cake. It really was the simple things in life, huh?

_________  

Over the course of the next week you and Jimin perfected the new recipe for the revolutionised rice cakes you were going to permanently keep in your assortment of treats in the shop and they turned out to be just the right amount of chewy and sweet. You might have used Jin as your personal lab rat and fed him an obscene amount of cakes until his eyes got glassy and his shoulders sagged in satisfaction. ‘This is heavenly’ he had mumbled while chewing and you knew it wouldn’t get any better than that. Jimin trusted your opinion but he had, of course, also tasted a fair amount of cakes before he agreed with Jin’s judgement. Both of you were lucky you got a few extra days off, since you had collected some overtime in the last month, which gave you enough time to work on the cake recipe. Jimin was grateful for the extra time he got to spend with you, even if Jin had intruded on some of it. At least he got to feed you some of the extra cakes while Jin watched and tried to hide the, very much obvious, jealousy on his face.

That evening, when Jin left, he had touched your upper arm for just long enough for Jimin to consider it inappropriate. Of course, you were oblivious to their childish behaviour.

Today was your last day off before a new week of work started and there were no more cakes to prepare for the shop. Last night, Yoongi had texted you to ask if you wanted to join him for coffee and keep him company while he practised a piece for another upcoming show. You had said yes, since you hadn’t seen your friend in a while and you were happy, he wanted to spend time with you. He was the elusive kind of friend that surfaced out of the blue after periods of being completely dead to the world.

On your way to the university he studied at, you picked up coffee for both of you and a snack for Yoongi, since he usually forgot to eat when he was working on something. You found him in the usual place, already sitting at the piano on the far side of the room, playing away and not noticing your arrival until you plopped down on the bench next to him,

“Hey, Piano Man, take a coffee break”

He stopped playing and turned to you, clearly not having expected you yet,

“I didn’t think you’d be here so soon”

He said, a surprised pout on his lips. You smiled and handed him the coffee and the snack you brought him,

“Left early so I could get you some sustenance”

“How do you know me so well, hm?”

He squinted his eyes at you suspiciously before opening the paper bag and taking an experimental sniff, then nodding approvingly,

“Well, I don’t have that many redeeming qualities but I like to think keeping the people I care about fed, so they stay healthy, is one of my better ones”

You smiled shyly and took a sip of your own coffee. You were wrong though, Yoongi thought. You had a ton of good qualities; far more than he ever thought could be found in a single person. You were the reason he was still in school, after all, and to hell if you didn’t think that counted for something,

“I don’t like it when you do that”

He mumbled under his breath and took a sip of that sweet, sweet bean juice that would bring warmth back into his heart and soul,

“Do what?”

You asked, creasing your brows in confusion,

“That thing where you talk badly about yourself and cover it up with humour”

You huffed and ran a hand through your hair,

“You act like you don’t do that, too”

You accused him and he gave you a look that just said ‘really?’

“I don’t, not like that, anyway. I know I’ve got some good qualities, I’m just super insecure, anxious and nervous at all times, there’s a difference”

Well. He got you there,

“So, stop talking like that, yeah? You know you’re a good person, Serenity, no need to doubt yourself”

He knew he didn’t have a way with words as much as he had a way with the keys on the piano. He just hoped that the essence of what he meant bled through the words and reached your core. He really did mean it like that: you were a good person. In fact, you were the best person in his life, even if he couldn’t show it in a way that he felt would be meaningful enough for you. Through all the problems and hardships thrown at him by his professors and the university and all the obstacles placed in his path by all the policies, regulations and deadlines, you had been there to support him and provide him with advice. You grounded him when his nerves threatened to reach a breaking point and you helped him find the calm and peaceful place in himself that he could retreat to when the world became too much.  

He had told you so in his own way; calling you his Serenity, when he felt you needed a push to take his words seriously,

“Alright… I’ll work on it, ok?”

You picked at your nails when you agreed and he was satisfied with the conclusion,

“Ok”

He said calmly and sipped his coffee,

“So, how’s practice going?”

You asked, changing the topic,  

“You tell me. You heard me playing when you snuck in like a damn ninja”

Yoongi answered and grinned,

“Everything you play sounds good to me but I’m also not a professional musician, so my opinion isn’t really gonna help you much…”

You would always tell him when you liked a piece, he introduced you to but beyond that? You had close to zero knowledge about music and all the terms and whatnot used to describe it, so Yoongi would have to be satisfied with you either saying ‘it’s great’ or ‘I love it’ repeatedly,

“Hm, fair enough”

He grumbled and turned back to the keyboard. To anyone else, he probably sounded condescending but you two were close enough for you to know, that was far from his intention. He just gave off particularly grumpy and unapproachable vibes at all times.

He sighed loudly and rolled his head around to loosen up some tension in his neck and shoulders,

“Alright… well, will you listen to it anyway?”

He asked and placed his hands on the keys according to the notes on the music sheet,

“Take it away, Maestro”

You said and the smallest smile crept its way onto his face before it scrunched up in concentration and he started playing.

_________  

Work was really slow today for some reason. Well, as slow as work in the kitchen of a hotel with hundreds of guests can be. But it felt slower than usual and you had yet to feel like ripping your uniform off and quitting dramatically in the heat of the moment, like you usually did. The majority of the guests currently occupying the rooms were tourists, who only visited the small fishermen town for the yearly celebration of exactly that: the fishermen who had inspired the people of the town to celebrate their work over the hundreds of years since the town had been established. By now fishing wasn’t the main source of the town’s income anymore but regardless, the tradition of celebrating was still going strong. The main source of income was now tourism.

It also meant dinner shift didn’t make you want to repeatedly punch the wall. Who would’ve thought that less guests equals less work?

As you enjoyed a few minutes of relative peace and quiet in the kitchen, you thought about your own relationship with the festival. A while ago, you and your friends, and also some of their friends, had decided you’d all visit the festival together this year and you were looking forward to it. You and Jimin would have to man your little rice cake booth for a while but since you were the business owners you could decide when you would close up and enjoy the rest of the festivities. You would probably only have the booth up during the day and leave it closed in the evening so you would have time to join your friends and get the party going. The festival was approaching fast and you had a feeling it would be a series of nights to remember.

Your thoughts were interrupted by a few new room-service orders, delivered by none other than your favourite colleague and intern, Seokjin. He entered the kitchen through the big double doors and invaded your workspace like it was nothing. Classic Jin,

“Strawberry Flavor, do you have time to make all this? It’s for Areum and another guest”

He handed you a note with a couple of orders scribbled onto it in terrible handwriting. Luckily you were accustomed to Jin’s writing by now and deciphering it was no problem for you anymore,

“Hm, sure, although… it’s already pretty late, Areum shouldn’t have any sugar before bedtime, don’t you think?”

You answered and Jin nodded, looking thoughtful,

“I guess you’re right… what else can you make for her? I don’t wanna show up empty handed”

You mulled it over for a second, tapping you bottom lip with your pointer finger,

“How about something light like a yogurt with a little bit of fruit in it? Nothing special but I can make it look really nice for her”

You suggested and taped the note to your workstation, so you could get started on the other orders, as well,

“Sounds good”

Jin simply said and leaned against the counter to watch you prepare the food. Like yours, his day had been a little less eventful than usual and he was thankful for the extra time he got to relax in between chores. He chose to use a few minutes to talk to you and watch you work. He liked seeing you whirl around the kitchen and grabbing ingredients here and there to put together a perfect meal. He loved food and he loved it even more when you were the one to prepare it. He was sure all the guests that were lucky enough to have their food made by you could taste all the love and effort you put into it,

“Jin, can you come help me? I can’t reach the damn pan on the shelf!”

Jin listened up and pushed himself away from the counter to walk over to where you were standing on your tiptoes, trying to reach the highest shelf,

“Sure”

He said and before you could step aside to make room for him, he stood behind you and placed a hand right next to you to support his weight while he slightly pushed his body forward to reach the shelf. You felt his chest pressed to your back and suddenly your hands felt a little clammy,

“I can reach it but I can’t move it, there’s too much other stuff around on the shelf”

Jin said and you cursed the person who reorganized the shelves the other day,

“Wait a second, I’ll get you something to step on”

You mumbled and tried to move away from Jin but he had a different idea,

“Don’t bother, I’ll just pick you up and you can get it. It’ll be easier, just do it like this”

He maneuvered you around until he was leaning with his back against the shelf and you stood in front of him. Usually you would have protested against this. So much physical contact was not only strange for you and Jin but it was also inappropriate in your place of work,

“Jin, what are you doing?”

You mumbled to yourself while Jin was already bending his knees and wrapping his arms around your middle. You took a deep breath and let out a surprised squeak when Jin lifted you off the ground. The position was more than inappropriate but Jin didn’t seem to mind,

“Is this ok? Am I holding you too tight?”

He asked, seeming concerned with your uncomfortable expression,

“No, no”

You cleared your throat and started to support yourself with your hands on his shoulders,

“It’s fine, just… don’t drop me, ok?”

you looked down at his handsome face and he smiled gently up to you,

“Don’t worry, I won’t”

You held onto his shoulders a little tighter. They felt nice, strong. Did he work out?

“Can you get it?”

He asked and you remembered the pan, so you let go of his shoulders,

“Ah… yes, just a second”

No rush, thought Jin. You started rummaging around the shelf and moving things around to make room for the pan. While you moved around a little more you felt Jin squeeze you a little tighter and it didn’t feel as uncomfortable anymore.

Jin knew he had taken a risk with this but he also just wanted an opportunity to get closer to you. He didn’t do anything too inappropriate; he would never touch you in a way that would make you feel uncomfortable or unsafe. He knew you trusted him and he knew you knew that he valued that trust. Thus, he also knew, you wouldn’t mind it if he held you like this. Granted, he didn’t think his face would be this close to your boobs but it wasn’t like he would ever complain about that. He wouldn’t mind being even closer.

You had finally managed to procure the pan without pushing anything else off the shelf and Jin had let you slowly slide out of his secure grip until you were the one looking up at him, again. You brushed your shirt off and cleared your throat once more before awkwardly thanking him,

“I’ll get back to work…”

You mumbled and walked back to your station. You couldn’t exactly explain why you felt a little nervous all of a sudden. Or why your mouth had run dry. Or why you felt a tingle in the places where Jin’s big and gentle hands had touched you. You also couldn’t exactly explain why your innocent friendship suddenly didn’t feel so innocent anymore.

_________

Jimin couldn’t pick you up from work tonight and when you got home, you peeked through his open door and found him already fast asleep in his bed. You had hoped he would still be up when you came home but you guessed practice must have been especially exhausting today. You quietly closed the door and retreated to your own room to unwind and then go to sleep, too. Tomorrow would be an eventful day for both of you, since you needed to transport your little booth to its spot on the festival area and decorate it; make it look pretty and approachable for all the visitors and potential customers.

Together, you had developed a nice decoration scheme and decided to go with minimal but effective. Small but cute decorative figures and little Stickers for the children to take with them. Working with Jimin was always so easy. You couldn’t remember even a single time when you and him had to argue about something because you both preferred to stay rational and talk it out like adults.  

You had recruited Jin and one of Jimin’s closer friends, Namjoon, to help you transport and set up your booth. You weren’t thrilled at Joon’s involvement in the delicate process because the independent writer had a reputation for being one of the clumsiest people alive. And even if you were thankful for the help, you were going to need to be prepared to deal with any major damage Joon would most likely cause.

For now, all you wanted to do was sleep and recharge for the events of the next day, yet you felt restless.

Nervousness started to creep in on you and you only tossed and turned in your sheets, unable to fall asleep. Were your rice cakes really going to sell tomorrow? Would the visitors of the festival actually consider your booth and try the cakes? Maybe the recipe wasn’t perfect, yet, after all… Suddenly you sat up and sighed deeply,

“Ah.,. let’s just check the recipe one last time, I won’t be able to sleep, anyway”

You mumbled to yourself and pulled a thin nightgown over your body before you made your way back through the dark apartment. Stumbling over a box you or Jimin left in the hallway, you made your way down into the shop and started putting together the ingredients for the dough. You tried to rustle around the kitchen as quietly as possible, not wanting to risk waking up Jimin, who clearly needed the rest more than you,

“Ok… let’s do this”

Cracking your knuckles, you looked at the prepared work space.

The bowls of ingredients stared back at you, taunting you and your skills as a baker,

“Ugh, this is ridiculous”

You rolled your eyes and took a deep breath. It couldn’t be so hard, could it? Why was this making you so nervous?

“Rice cake? What are you doing in the shop so late?

Jimin’s soft voice pulled you out of your thoughts and you turned around to see him standing on the last step the stairs and leaning against the wall. He was looking at you, squinting his eyes sleepily and trying to adjust to the light,

“Jimin, why are you up? Did I wake you? I’m sorry, I tried to be quiet”

You said and moved around a little to try and cover up the bowls behind you,

“Are you ok? You look stressed”

Jimin walked over to you and put his hand against your forehead, trying to feel your temperature,

“I’m fine, I just couldn’t sleep”

You pulled his hand away from your forehead,

“Do you need something to help you sleep? Tea, maybe? I can make you some soup or porridge- “

“Jimin, I’m fine, really”

You smiled at his suggestions, loving how he wanted to care of you,

“Thank you, though. I think I just need a minute or so, to calm down”

He nodded and pursed his lips, then he noticed all the stuff behind you on the counter,

“What’s all this?”

He craned his neck to get a better look and you gently pushed against his chest to avoid having to explain yourself,

“You want to prepare cakes, right now? It’s the middle of the night”

His creased brows and confused expression made you feel a little bit guilty,

“What’s really going on? Are you nervous about tomorrow?”

He asked and you felt yourself at a loss for words,

“I- “

You were surprised time and time again, how well Jimin knew you and could how easily he could tell what really went on inside your head,

“Well… if you really wanna know, then, yes. I’m a little worried”

You confessed and turned your eyes to the floor, then continued your explanation:

“I’m worried people won’t like our booth and the cakes. We’ve put so much work into this shop… what if it was all just a waste of time? I know the locals like what we do but that won’t be enough to sustain a growing business for long, you know? I was hoping we’d branch out eventually, maybe open up another shop in the next big city, or something. If we can’t convince a few lousy tourists to buy from us, then how are we going to establish ourselves anywhere else?”

“That’s what you’re worried about? That people won’t like the cakes?”

He asked and you pouted. When he said it like that, your worries seemed so small and unreasonable,

“Yeah…”

You kicked at some imaginary dirt, wanting to avoid Jimin’s kind eyes at every cost but he wouldn’t have it, trying to wiggle into your line of sight even if you turned your head away from him,

“Hey, Rice Cake, look at me…”

“No, I feel stupid for worrying”

“It’s not stupid to care about what you do. This shop and the cakes, they’re your babies. They’re also my babies but without you, I wouldn’t even have made it to this point. So, don’t feel stupid for wanting to succeed”

Maybe he had a point, you thought. You let out a quiet breath and lifted your gaze to find Jimin smiling reassuringly at you,

“Ok”

“Ok? You sure?”

He asked and gently nudged your arm with his elbow,

“Yes, I’m sure”

You said, finally smiling again,

“Good. Now tell me… is it only me, or are you suddenly craving something sweet?”

Jimin raised his brows expectantly,

“I don’t know, I guess I could eat something”

You answered and Jimin chuckled,

“Then it’s a good thing we’re both so good at baking, right?”

Jimi whipped past you and started to mix up all the stuff you had laid out and you just watched in astonishment, unable to believe the nerve of this guy,

“What are you waiting for? Get to it, the flour won’t sift itself”

You just shook your head, smiling to yourself and thanking every higher power out there, that Park Jimin existed in your life.

The two of you worked in comfortable silence for a while. You worked well together in the kitchen. All the time spent down here, working on recipes, manoeuvring around the limited space without bumping into each other had really helped your coordination as a team. Jimin had whipped up some creamy dough and you were about to prepare the steamer. You watched Jimin whisk the mixture a little more until he was satisfied with the consistency. You watched him curiously, prepared to take the batter off his hands and form little balls to put in the steamer but you found yourself not only watching the whisk but also the arm whisking it. A very nice arm, one might say. Smooth skin, visible veins and strong muscle, all working together to create a picture you found yourself admiring a little, if you were being honest. Objectively speaking, Jimin was handsome; no one, not even you, could deny it. Years of passionate dancing had shaped his body in a way, that you could definitely appreciate. Even though you lived together, you had never seen Jimin wearing less than jeans and a t-shirt. An unspoken rule about decency had always kept you two from crossing each other when you were wearing anything other than a full outfit. The fact that he was standing before you in a tank top and sleeping shorts, was what made this situation feel even more out of the ordinary, than it already did.

You pulled your nightgown tighter around yourself, more aware of your own state of (un)-dress. Your shorts were even shorter than Jimin’s and you wondered, if he also felt a little weird about the situation. If he did, he didn’t let it show,

“You ready for me, Rice Cake?”

He asked you without looking up from the bowl,

“Yes, I’m ready”

“Wanna taste it first? Make sure it’s good?”

Jimin’s voice suddenly didn’t sound so soft and gentle anymore. You stuttered and then cleared your throat,

“Um, I trust you”

You replied, sounding a little insecure,  

“You sure?”

Jimin looked up at you now, focused on your unsure expression. He put away the whisk and slowly dipped a finger into the batter and then placed it in his mouth, without breaking eye contact.

A quiet moan left him and he smiled,

“Come try it, have a little taste”

He beckoned you forward with a curled finger and your feet moved on their own accord until they were planted firmly on the ground, next to Jimin’s

“Ok”

You mumbled and looked up at him,

“Close your eyes”

He said and you sighed and let your eyes fall closed,

“I’m sure it’s good, we’ve worked on the recipe for- “

You were caught off guard and simply obeyed without a second thought, opening your mouth. A second later you felt Jimin place his finger on your tongue, covered in batter. You closed your lips around it and opened your eyes, finding Jimin’s gaze fixed on your lips, with his own slightly parted. You tasted the sweetness of the batter and let the taste overrun your senses. With your tongue slowly starting to move around Jimin’s finger and gently sucking on it, you were able to taste all of it; the sweet, the tangy and the slightly salty taste of Jimin’s skin.

“Good?”

He asked, voice sounding a little strained. You nodded,

“Yeah? You like it?”

He asked again and you looked up at him with wide eyes, slowly letting his finger slide out from between your lips,

“I like it”

You said and Jimin ran his other hand through his hair. He had to look away; you were too sexy for your own good.

And you didn’t even notice it! The worst of it all was, that he had never seen you wear anything like this before: just a camisole with thin straps and sleeping shorts. Not to mention that scrap of a night gown. He’d never seen so much of your skin and he had to admit, it was becoming harder and harder no to reach out and touch the smooth-looking skin of your upper arm, where your shoulders started, or accidentally brush his fingers against the soft skin of your thighs in passing.

He was about to pop the most uncomfortable boner while you licked your lips and didn’t even pretend to acknowledge the sexual tension in the small room,

“Ok, good…”

Jimin mumbled and wiped his finger on his shorts before he grabbed the bowl and stepped around you to the steamer. He quickly needed to focus on something else because he didn’t want to risk accidentally bumping his problem into you and making things awkward. He thought maybe you didn’t notice how his shorts slightly tented and he did his best to turn his body away from you, while he filled small portions of the batter into the steamer. Maybe he could get you to leave and have some time to cool down again,

“Ah… Rice Cake, why don’t you go ahead and wait upstairs, hm? This won’t take long. I’ll bring them up when they’re finished”

He smiled at you reassuringly,

“What are you talking about, this was my idea. I can’t let you slave away over this alone…”

You pouted slightly and took a step towards him,

“No, no, don’t worry! I’ll take care of it, get some rest, ok?”

You considered it for a second and then sighed. He may have sounded slightly more panicked than necessary but hey, if it did the trick,

“Ok, if you’re sure… I guess I’m a little more tired than before”

You said and promptly yawned,

“Go to sleep, you need the rest”

Jimin ushered you out with a wave of his hands and a last cute smile and then he could finally let out a deep breath,

“Well, that was close”

He said to himself, after he heard the door to the upper floor close, then wiped the metaphorical sweat off of his brow,

“Ah, seriously Jimin-ah, what are you, 12?”

he looked down at himself and pointed a finger at the, still very much visible, tent in his pants as a warning,

“You could have gotten us in trouble…”

Then he shook his head and sighed, remembering the little cakes in the steamer. He hoped you would already be asleep by the time he brought the last batch upstairs because he wouldn’t be able to handle the visual of him, feeding you a few of them, after what had just happened.

Later, when he was finally back in bed, he still wasn’t quite sure what had possessed him. You, however, slept like a blissfully ignorant baby that night.

_________

Thank you so much for reading! Part two is now here !

[seven-oomen]

Honey, honey | A Buddie One shot

Main ship: Eddie Diaz/Evan Buckley

Wordcount: +- 1600 words

Rating: PG-13, for language, abo mentions, and mpreg mentions

Warnings: Mentions ABO dynamics but isn’t explicit, language, mpreg mention but none of it is very graphic.

I’ve tried finding/writing sensible Spanish but I’m still learning the language so forgive me for making mistakes. I blame the duo lingo owl, he’s trying his best to teach me okay?

Based on the prompt: We've been living together for a few years now, your son calls me dad and recently you started calling me honey. But I never really connected the dots until after I posted a question online and a bunch of random strangers gave me advice. When I finally confessed my feelings for you, you told me you loved me and we've been dating since.

Based on the post: https://seven-oomen.tumblr.com/post/611873995367890944/adding-this-to-my-prompt-list-because-yeah-this

Tagging: @daughter-of-infinity​​ because I saw your reblog of that post and know you wanted a story like this.

He stared at the page before him, biting his lip as he pondered his next move. Was he really going to ask a bunch of strangers online a question like this? What if he was wrong? What if someone he knew found out? What if Eddie did…

But at the same time, he was tired of walking on eggshells. Of not knowing what was going on between the two of them. Don't get him wrong,  he wasn't against Chris calling him papa or against Eddie calling him cariño. Whatever that meant. But it was weird that everything had changed so gradually. He almost hadn't noticed it really, until Tia,  Eddie's aunt, had said something about Eddie finally finding a good Alpha to raise Christopher with at the last family gathering. She had looked fondly at Buck whilst she said it. And that got him thinking. Did she think Eddie and him were dating?

Wait...

Were they?

And so, here he was. Sitting in front of his computer, staring at the Reddit ask page in front of him.

Oh, fuck it. He was already here, might as well ask some random strangers on the internet what was going on. Surely it wouldn't come back to bite him in the ass.

He started tying.

Firehose asked a question:

What does it mean when someone changes what they've always called you?

I've (31AM) been living with my roommate and best friend (37OM) and his 11-year-old son for three years. We've been through so much together,  from earthquakes and the tsunami to a lawsuit and some bullshit with his late wife and other craziness. For us, that's just on the daily.  It happens. But it did forge a really strong friendship between us.

I care a lot about my friend and his son, to me they're family and I'd die to protect them and keep them safe. And I know he'd do the same for me. We're best friends and partners on the job but lately, he's been telling me that "I'm the best thing that's ever happened to him."

And I noticed his family has been smiling at me differently lately. I've been going to family meetings for two and a half years and consider them my family but the air seems to have changed, it's almost even warmer. I didn't think that was possible.

Anyway, I've noticed more things lately.  Like how my friend calls me cariño, I honestly don't know what that means,  and his son started calling me papa about a year ago. Which is absolutely adorable and something I encouraged, I'll admit.

But the cariño thing is bothering me as my friend smiles at me and touches my cheek when he says it. Now, we've always been very tactile in our friendship and we're completely comfortable around each other but this made me feel a bit weird. Not bad weird, just something that makes me feel something but I don't know what or why.

I just don't know what this means and I don't know how to respond to it except smile at him. Cause it does feel kinda nice. I don't know how to talk to him about it, we've never discussed our sexualities. Honestly, I'm still not sure of mine.

We've just always been really close,  shared a bed during nightmares kinda close but I honestly don't know how to breach the subject with him. Am I reading too much into this? Am I dating my best friend without knowing it? Honestly, any kind of advice would be appreciated at this point. I don't want him taking this the wrong way.

TLDR: My best friend calls me cariño and his son calls me papa. I don't know why and I'm too scared to ask. I feel a lot of things but I don't know if either of us is bisexual or gay. I don't know what to do with myself. Should I ask him if he has feelings for me?

The next few days were filled with responses from Reddit. All of them pretty much said the same thing. Just ask him out already. Talk to him. Or oh my god, you are totally dating, you dingus...

So he figured he might as well take the next step. He asked Eddie that night after they put Christopher to bed.

They were watching tv together on Eddie’s bed, a beer in hand and shoulders touching.

“So- you know how you always call me cariño? What does that mean?” He asked.

Eddie gave him a rather amused look and chuckled. “It means darling or sweetheart, maybe honey, you know. It’s a term of endearment. I thought you knew that?”

The Omega cocked his head at him and scooted closer, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. And it felt nice to be held, so he couldn’t help but relax in his hold, laying his head on Eddie’s shoulder as he stared at his beer bottle.

“I-” he bit his lip- “I didn’t. And I just- I don’t know. It’s confusing... “

“What is?” Eddie genuinely looked concerned. He felt terrible for causing it and he wanted nothing more than to hug his best friend and press a kiss to those lips.

Fuck.

“I- are we- Eddie are we dating?”

Eddie looked at him as if Buck had gone insane and snorted. “Excuse me? What do you-” Realization seemed to set in as Buck only looked more confused at Eddie’s amusement. “Oh, you stupid bastard…” Eddie chuckled, “Buck, we’ve been dating for two years.”

It was like a floodgate had opened and another realization came over him. The handholding, laying in bed together on most nights, taking care of Christopher, Buck coming with them to family gatherings, Eddie coming to him for comfort or affection. Holy shit... How had he missed all of that?

Neither of them had dated anyone else in the last three years, he hadn’t even looked at anyone. The only people he really wanted to spend his time with were Eddie and Christopher. Hell, they went to the zoo together, to the movies, they went out for dinner- just the two of them- in fancy restaurants even.

And it had never clicked. Not even once.

“Shit…” He looked up at Eddie in surprise before breaking out in one of his trademark beaming smiles. “Guess we have been.”

Eddie gently put both their beers on the nightstand beside him and pulled Buck closer, pressing a kiss to his temple.

“Eres corto de luces, pero te amo de todos modos.” Eddie mumbled, shaking his head. (You are not the brightest bulb, but I love you anyway.)

“And that means?”

“That you’re stupid but I love you.”

He couldn’t help but smile at those words, gently cupping Eddie’s cheek as he pressed his lips against the Omega’s. “At least I’m your idiot,” He murmured.

“That you are.”

-

UPDATE: What does it mean when someone changes what they've always called you?

TLDR: You were all right and I was dating my best friend without realizing it. But guess what? We talked and now we’re married with three kids. Crazy what a year can change, huh?

So yeah, you guys haven’t heard from me in a year but I decided it was time to let you all know what happened between me and my best friend. So we talked that night after I posted my original story. Turns out I was dating him all along and never put two and two together. Until he did it for me. We talked that night and some other stuff and decided to take the next step together.

Naturally, everyone I knew had a good laugh about that one. Apparently, there was a betting pool on when I would realize I was dating my roomie. My sister won that one by the way.

So within the week my friend and I were engaged. He asked me, with some help from his son. It was adorable, really. He set up this really nice picnic for the three of us in the park, near the lake where we like to hang out on our days off. And he had his son come up to me to show me something he caught. (We both like insects, it’s kind of our shared thing.)

Turns out, our son was actually holding a ring. An engagement ring. And when he handed me the box, my friend took my hand, kissed it and asked me to marry him.

So of course, I said yes. We got married about six months after that. But it turns out that our night of ‘talking’ had some unforeseen consequences, and my husband was six months pregnant with twins when we walked down the aisle.

Yeah, so we married and two months later our son and our daughter were born. Our daughter in an elevator during a power outage and our son in an ambulance, on the way to the hospital. Because nothing in this family ever goes as planned it seems.

It’s been a wild year and if I think about it, I have all of that thanks to you guys. So thank you, for helping me realize what I had all along.

-

He finally closed his laptop and looked over to where Eddie was sleeping on the couch, Robert and Rosalie on his chest as they napped. Chris was silently drawing some pictures next to him at the table and grinned when he noticed Buck was looking.

Yeah it had been a crazy year all around, but truth be told, he would do it all over again.

-

So let me know what you all think of this one, would love to hear it. I very much enjoyed writing this. It was fun to just let my thoughts go and not worry about writing something good. I had fun and it made my day a bit brighter. And honestly, I hope it does that for other people too. So let me know if it did for you <3

[royallyprincesslilly]

Title: Kismet {3}

Henry Cavill x Famous OFC Aliya Taylor

Warning: Plot Heavy, Slow Burn, Mild Cursing, Flirtation, LOTS OF WORDS

Words: 7.7k

Summary: Aliya is a singer turned model turned actress. Since she was fifteen, she’s been creating her empire in the entertainment world. As the daughter of a famous fashion model/designer and Hollywood director, you’d think life is easy for her, but her past has been anything but easy. Due to past trauma, she’s forever changed and no longer trusts any man that is not in her family and a select few in her team. She’s sworn off love and serious relationships and has planned never to fall again, but love isn’t something that can be planned. It just happens when it’s meant to. Can Aliya outrun a love that seems hellbent on holding tight to her, a love that is Kismet?

Note: I did something a little different this chapter with POVs. You’ll see it toward the end. Let me know if it was confusing or if you guys liked it. Also there are Google Translations in text. If they are wrong, I apologize. I hope you enjoy this. ❤️❤️

If you enjoyed this please LIKE, COMMENT, REBLOG!! 😘  As always, thank you so much for reading. ❤️❤️

***Loosely Edited/Proofread***

***Interactive***

***Henry Images NOT my own**

Previous Chapters: 1 | 2 | 

-Aliya-

A few days later, you found yourself on a flight back to LA. Usually, you’d be relieved to get home so you could shower in your own bathroom and fall asleep in your bed. Today you weren’t relieved. You were filled with a different emotion—anxiousness. Looking down, you stared at the picture of Henry in his bed with little to nothing on. You’d tried to drill into your head that you needed to end the flirtation as quickly as possible, but instead of doing anything of the sort, you continued thinking about him. It didn’t help that you found yourself looking through his pictures daily. That was what probably kept this lingering attraction to him. It had to be his looks your deduced.

Your text messages and conversations flitted through your head on a daily basis. You found yourself smiling at something he’d said or texted, and you always realized it at the most inopportune times. You doubted anyone noticed, but it bothered you that you noticed. When the plane landed, you made your way through airport security. As you did, you noticed the paps from the corner of your eye snapping away, capturing every move you made. After signing a few autographs, you climbed into your waiting truck.

The drive to your house gave you time to think about your next move. Instead of work being the most important thing on your mind, it was Henry. His suggestion was fresh on your mind. You wondered if he'd bring it up again. When your driver dropped you off and brought your bags to your bedroom, you took the time to enjoy the quiet and comfort of your own surroundings. Traveling was part of your job, and in your life, you’d seen the inside of plenty of hotels, but you always preferred being home. You felt more like yourself here.

The next hour was spent unpacking and decompressing while fighting off the jet lag. The music that you had blasting was working with keeping you distracted, and you were grateful for it. After unpacking, you began working fearing idle hands. Halfway into trying a different angle with the magazine, you heard the chime of Henry’s phone. Pausing where you sat, you waited to see if it would chime again. It didn’t, so you went back to work. 

Every minute you sat there instead of looking at the phone, you were filled with such an overwhelming desire you rush across the room to look at it. It was a desire that was new to you. It had been years and years since you’d had any impulse close to this. You thought you’d had one hundred percent success when you cauterize every ventricle that could produce impulses and emotions like this to your heart.

 As your legs carried you across the room, you realized you must not have been entirely successful.

 MSG Your Phone: How is Firefly in Studio City?

 Of course, he was still persistent. You didn’t expect anything less. Part of you had expected him to bring it up again. You stared at the text for several minutes, unsure of what to reply. The war within you waged again. You knew that if you agreed, there would be a chance you wouldn’t leave immediately. He was that charming. Deciding not to respond, you called your trainer instead, hoping that a workout would help to either distract you or help you decide.

 The next hour and a half was spent sparring with your trainer. He didn’t take it easy on you, something you were grateful for. After twenty minutes, you were dripping in sweat and fully enthralled in the workout. After a sparring match, he pushed you through a HITT routine that kicked your ass. You were certain he decided to give you the athlete routine because you’d never been this out of breath. No matter how tired you were, you pushed through it. By the time you’d finished, you were flat on your back on the mat completely out of breath, but you’d also come to terms with a decision.

 MSG Henry’s Phone: See you then.

 After cleaning up a bit, you decided to take your chances on Rodeo for some shopping. Before you got out of your car, you pulled on a hat and some sunglasses and said a silent prayer. You’d learned long ago that if you blended in, you usually would be left alone. As you shopped, you did notice a few eyes, but they always looked away. They must have decided that you weren’t anyone special because of how you were dressed. Maybe it was a good idea to shop in your workout clothes that still had splotches of sweat all over them.

 When you got home, you realized you had two hours left. That meant you couldn’t take forever in the shower, which would be impossible since you had to do your wash routine because of how sweaty you’d gotten during your workout. Deciding on a co-wash rather than a full wash routine, you saved yourself an added hour in the shower. As you stepped into your room, you saw Alicia sitting there.

 “My God, I’ve been calling and texting for weeks,” she half whined and shouted.

 “I have an explanation. My phone wasn’t with me,” you rushed out.

 Alicia looked confused when she looked at the bed and saw the phone that eerily resembled yours. You proceeded to tell her everything as she followed you around your closet. You didn’t leave one thing out. It was only with Amaya and Alicia could you be this honest. They’d been with you through everything, well Alicia had. Amaya began as your assistant and was for five years before you decided to get another so she could achieve all her goals. Now she was doing very well as the owner of her own boutique and on track to opening another location.

 “Holy Shit, lemme see.”

 You showed her Henry’s phone and took the time to scroll through his pictures yet again. You were verging on a stalker now. Every picture she went to that showed less and less clothing had her gasping louder and louder.

 “Oh my god. You have to jump on that.”

 “Leece!”

 She snickered as you shook your head. You didn’t know why you were surprised. She’d always been the more outspoken one between you. she said everything that came to mind. She also wasn’t plagued with the same tragedies as you.

 “Only you would find yourself in a situation like this,” Alicia scoffed.

 “Tell me about it.”

 “So you’re going to get your phone back.”

 “Yes,” you confirmed.

 “And dinner,” Alicia added.

 “What? I hadn’t planned on dinner.” You were sitting at your vanity, applying a lite layer of makeup.

 “It’s night. It would be a shame just to go to get your phone back. Sit a while,” Alicia slid in with a grin on her face.

 “Leece, there have been two women texting and calling him this entire time. I don’t do messy, and that screams messy.”

 “You don’t know that,” she protested.

 You walked out of your closet and to the bag that had the dress you’d just bought. “It’s not a good idea.”

 “Which is why you’re putting in major effort.”

 You slipped on the dress while shaking your head objecting.

 “I am not. I like to look good.”

 Alicia scoffed again. “Chic, please. You’re wearing makeup. I see the flat iron over there, which means you’re going to straighten your hair and probably curl it to since the curling iron is next to it. You only do that when you plan on doing those curls that make you look like an Egyptian goddess. Plus, the clothes everywhere in the closet says you were indecisively trying to find an outfit,” Alicia pieced together.

 Groaning, you dropped your head back. “God, this is crazy. I don’t know this man at all.”

 “But?”

 “I don’t know. When we bumped into each other that time, I felt this—electric charge between us. Looking at him—I felt like—like I was under some spell. It’s weird,” you explained before you sat in front of the mirror, ready to use the flat iron. “Then this week, I swear I felt like I needed a release every damn day,” you confessed.

 Alicia walked behind you and took up the flat iron and began the process for you. “Every day I looked at his pictures, and then he’d text almost every day and his voice,” you added before you groaned loudly again. “What is wrong with me, Leece?”

 “You’re horny.”

 Glaring at her you rolled your eyes. “Shut up.”

 “It’s either that or you’ve met the one,” Alicia added.

 You nearly leaped to your feet from shock. The only thing that stopped you was the fact that Alicia had a hot as hell flat iron in your head.

 “The one? Shut all the way up!”

 That was when Alicia laughed, which made you grunt again before crossing your arms like a child. As she continued doing your hair, you caught up with what you’d missed in each other’s lives over the last weeks.  For the next almost forty minutes, your conversation took your mind off of what the rest of the night held for you. Before you knew it, she’d finished, and you were standing in front of the mirror, fully put together. It was a beautiful dress, one that wasn’t overtly sexy, but it also wasn’t plain.  When you got into your car, Alicia left you with a parting message. “Que sera sera.”

  -Henry-

He said seven, but he was there at six-forty-five. He hated being late. It was probably the Brit in him. As he sat at the table, he’d requested he sipped water rather than a beer. His nerves would have him going through two or three before you got there. He found himself worrying that you wouldn’t show. After going around it for ten or so minutes, he finally decided that you would show up, but then it sent him in another mind maze on if you’d stay. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been like this over a woman.  It was almost laughable—almost.

 Thankfully the table he’d chosen afforded him some privacy, which meant he could fall apart in peace. He’d never been more nervous in his life, and that included the times he’d auditioned for Superman and Witcher. He remembered his mother’s words; “Nerves aren’t a bad thing; they symbolize that something or someone matters.”

 He didn’t know how you mattered in such a short amount of time, especially since you hadn’t talked often, and you’d never spent more than one minute in front of each other. He flicked his wrist to check his Garrick watch for the tenth time. Seven o’clock. Instinctively, he looked around, trying to see if you’d arrived. There was no sign of you. There was no sign of you for the next five minutes. He tried not to be alarmed or discouraged, noting that not everyone was as punctual as he was. It was then he wished he’d ordered something a lot stronger than water.

  <With Aliya>

When you arrived, you were appreciative that there were no paps. They always increased your anxiety, and right now, you didn’t need any more anxious energy. After the valet took your car, you walked up to the hostess with young features, including kind eyes and a sweet smile. When her eyes met yours, you knew she’d recognized you.

 “Hi. Welcome to Firefly. Do you have a reservation?” You were impressed she got through that calmly without missing a beat.

 “Um—I’m not sure. There’s supposed to be a guy here. He’s pretty tall, black hair, um—built he looks like he works out, oh, and the most amazing blue eyes that you’ve ever seen,” you listed off. You didn’t want to just drop his name if he’d managed to get in without being recognized.

 “Of course, you’re the Aliya he meant,” she said with an excited smile.

 “Huh?”

 “He said he was expecting an Aliya to join him. I should have known it was you,” she explained.

 You looked around, making sure you weren’t drawing attention.

 “Follow me. I’ll take you back,” the hostess instructed.

 You didn’t move. Your anxieties controlled your limbs now.  The hostess stopped and looked at you with a concerned expression on her face. You toyed with the handle of your clutch, trying your best to calm yourself enough to move. As you followed her through the restaurant, you were pleased the route didn’t have you parading through the restaurant.

 When she stopped at a drawn closed red curtain, you took a deep breath and prepped yourself. She pulled it open, revealing the man of the night.

 “Mr. C, excuse me. Your party is here.”

 She stepped to the side and gave you the first view of him. He looked as incredible as ever. With the lights behind him, it put him in the most romantic glow. You squeezed your clutch, feeling the butterflies flit in your belly. This was not good, you thought.

 Long moments passed with the two of you just staring at each other. Every second that passed, your attraction toward him only grew, and the more your attraction grew, the more you felt as if there was a strong gravitational pull between you. It didn’t make any sense to you.

 “Well, I’ll leave you now. Your waiter will be over in a few minutes,” the hostess informed before she walked off.

 You still stood there, gawking at him. When he stood, you followed his height. He was tall, and that took your breath away even more.

 “Hi.”

 He sounded surprised and out of breath.

 “Hi,” you echoed pretty much identically to him.

 It felt like a surreal moment, one you didn’t have a lot of experience with in this fashion. You’d been in surreal moments before, but they were less than ideal. When he moved behind you to the other side of the table he pulled out the chair there.

 “Please,” Henry said ushering to the chair.

 He looked tempting and welcoming all at once. You’d only planned on getting this far. Anything past this would have you venturing into unchartered territory, somewhere you didn’t like going. Sitting in the seat, Henry pushed it in for you before he walked back around to his.

 “Thank you.”

 The silence returned, and when your eyes met again, anything you thought to say faded away. How could anyone think straight when looking into eyes like those?

“Hi, I’m Tamara. I’ll be your server tonight,” a new voice began snapping you both out of your daze. “Holy mother, you’re—you’re Henry Cavill. I’m such a huge fan,” she rushed out.

 Henry smiled appreciatively as he slightly bowed his head. “Thank you. I appreciate it.”

 “Wow. No problem,” Tamara said as she shook her head as if trying to snap herself out of it. She looked successful, but when she looked at you, her eyes widened even more.

 “Oh my god! You’re—you’re—a twofer. I’m a huge fan of yours too.”

 Smiling you flicked your hair over your shoulder. “Thank you.”

 “Wow, okay. Do you guys know what you’d like to drink or an appetizer?”

 “Afraid not, we just sat down.”

 “Okay. I’ll give you a few more minutes,” Tamara said.

 “Actually, I’m not staying,” you informed.

 Both pairs of eyes landed on you. Henry didn't look surprised, but Tamara looked as if you were insane and she wanted to tell you.

 “Oh.” That “oh” was filled with so much judgment. You almost laughed.

 “Can you give us a few minutes, Tamara?” His smile must have been his secret weapon. Tamara instantly fell under its spell, smiling back at him like an awestruck teenager as she nodded her reply.

 “Sure thing,” she managed out before she walked away. That was when you took up your clutch to get the thing that brought you here.

 “I only came here to give you back your phone and get mine,” you informed as you took his phone out to hold out to him. Henry didn’t take it. Instead, he looked at it then to you.

 “Is that the only reason you came tonight?”

 You were speechless now, and you didn’t know why. Yeah, he was gorgeous, and his eyes felt like they were actual x-ray beams that were boring into you. Yes, his aura was something that was wreaking havoc on you, and his scent was just bombarding you, overloading all of your senses. None of that should have mattered. He was not the first beautiful face you’d encountered.

 “Honestly, you could have mailed it to me a week ago, making tonight unnecessary. You didn’t. You held on to it and decided to come tonight,” Henry theorized.

 “To give this back to you,” you reiterated.

 “If that was your only reason, you should have chosen a different outfit.”

 Your smile began small but gradually spread wider and wider until you were full-on blushing. He was too damn charming. It was the accent; it had to be.

 “It’s Friday night. I’m starving and have nothing to do. We’re both here at one of the best restaurants in LA that also offers privacy. Let’s stay. If after drinks and appetizers, you can’t stand me, I will have no objections to going our separate ways. No hard feeling and no strings,” Henry suggested.

 You studied him for several long moments. Slowly, you licked your lips. The action brought Henry’s eyes to them.

 “And if we get through drinks and appetizers and somehow make it to actual dinner and dessert, what then?”

 With his smile, you realized you were in danger. No man should be this gorgeous. No man should have a perfect face, including eyes and smile that would stop any war. The shiver that rushed through you had him smiling even more extensively. Looking from him, you dipped your head to gather your senses.

 “Don’t you want it back?”

 Henry leaned back into his chair and shrugged. “Eh, I’ve been without it for twelve days. What’s another few hours? Hang on to it,” he replied as he lifted the menu to his face.

 With his face blocked from yours, you were finally able to breathe. He had to know his effect. There was no way a man went through his life, not knowing his effect on the opposite sex. Pressing your palm to your belly, you tried to will the butterflies to calm. You placed his phone on top of the table to the left and your clutch to the right. He still held his menu up. It gave you a little more time to think about what you should do. The exhaustion you felt before your belly growled were the only two deciding factors. You took up your menu and scanned it.

 Neither of you spoke for a few moments. You wondered if he was also taking notice of the things you were.

 “Have you ever been here?”

 “Um—no. First time,” you answered.

 “I've been here once or twice. My friends love the food.”

 You nodded with your head in the menu. You busied yourself with figuring out what you’d eat instead of thinking about his scent.

 “You know, for you to figure out if you can’t stand me, you have to talk to me,” Henry teased.

 Peeking out from the menu, you glanced at him. “What if in talking I realize I can’t stand you?”

 He smiled again, which had you wanting to return it. “Funny.”

 You shrugged. “ I have my moments.”

 “I do have to say this before another moment passes,” Henry began. You put the menu down, giving him your full attention. He looked serious.

 “You look incredibly beautiful tonight.”

 That was not what you were expecting. Your heart was racing with just those simple words. In a second, everything and everyone around you disappeared, leaving just the two of you in the dim glow of candlelight. Wow, you thought.

 “Sorry to interrupt the moment,” Tamara softly breeched. “Any idea what you’d like?” You quickly looked away from him. Flustered, you glanced back to the menu.

 “Yes, um, a coconut mojito, please,” you requested.

 “Great choice. They are to die for here. And you?”                  

 Henry pursed his lips to the side as he looked over the menu for a few quick moments, then looked back to Tamara. You couldn’t help but stare at his lips.

 “A Guinness, please.”

 “Sure thing. Any appetizers?”

 Henry glanced at you to take the lead.

 “Uh—I’ll have the blackened shrimp with crispy chilled cucumbers,” you informed.

 “I’ll have the chicken samosas, please.”

 “All right. Coming right up. When I bring them back, I’ll take your main course,” Tamara said before she walked off.

 Once the two of you were alone, you found your hand in your hair twirling it lost in your thoughts while skimming the menu. It took a few moments to realize it, but when you looked at him, his eyes were planted on you, and that was when you realized what you were doing.

 “I’m sorry. It’s a habit I have.” Putting your hand on the table, you tried to get over the impulse to put it right back in your hair.

 “No need to apologize,” Henry voiced while looking in your eyes.

 You’d noticed it from the moment you saw him at the table. Whenever he spoke, he looked into the eyes of whoever he was speaking to. It was a refreshing discovery, one you liked—a lot.

 Clearing your throat, you focused on the current goal of the night. “So I hear really good things about Witcher season two and the Superman movie that is being planned.”

 “Oh yeah?”

 “Yeah. All the comic people are excited about you reprising your role as Kal-El, and the gamers are loving Witcher,” you expressed.

 “Does that include you?”

 “Actually, I am interested. Superman happens to be my most favorite superhero.”

 “Really, not Batman?”

 You snorted and shook your head. “Batman sucks, Superman, though—more substance.”

 His smirk was wide. You could tell he liked that answer.

 “Is he your only favorite?”

 “No. There’s WonderWoman, Aquaman, Storm, Mystique, although she lost her way for a tiny bit and  Black Panther,” you listed.

 “Aquaman, huh. I didn’t suspect that.”

 “I like to deliver the unexpected,” you quickly followed up with a smile that Henry returned. You couldn’t help but bit your bottom lip.

 “So a Guinness man, huh?”

 “Yes, of course, I’m British. I was born on the Bailiwick of Jersey on the Channel Islands.”

 “Really?” You couldn’t believe you didn’t know that. He nodded with a smile.

 “Interesting. Isn’t that right between England and France?”

 “You’ve been?” The surprise and excitement in his eyes was bright.

 “No. I just know.”

 “Not many people do. I’m impressed,” Henry complimented.

 “Is that how you know French?”

 “Yes, also my mother spoke French to me, and I learned it. How do you know French?”

 He seemed genuinely interested in the words that came out of your mouth. Usually, when you interacted with men in the industry, it was different. You could always tell they seemed to be pretending on some level. With Henry, you didn’t get any air of fakeness. He seemed like a genuine person. That was rare in the entertainment industry.

 “I went through finishing school, where they taught a bunch of stuff. A lot of it was useless like etiquette, how to sit, talk, and act as a true proper lady. How to speak, and the art of conversation. The proper way to set the table with the right place settings and what each fork is for and each spoon because that is incredibly important in life. Let’s see--,” you tapped your jaw, trying to remember all the useful useless things you learned in your childhood.

 “Oh, How to host events, the useful skill of ballroom dancing mixed with aristocratic dances. I also learned more useful life skills like languages such as French, German, Chinese, Spanish, Gaelic, and Russian. I learned how to cook, manage a budget, even how to take care of a household and one of the best things. Ready for it?”

 Henry nodded. “How to be marriage ready, so when a suitable gentleman caller comes calling, I'm ready and willing to receive him and show what an asset I am for him to marry,” you finished in your perfect southern voice.

 Henry looked shocked, scared, and confused, but he also looked very amused. His expression was enough to have you laughing loudly. As you laughed, he joined in.

 “Finishing school. Wow.”

 “Yep. From six to thirteen,” you added.

 “Wow. I would have never guessed. So you know the difference between a soup spoon, dessert spoon, and appetizer spoon?”

 You cringed remembering the torturous lessons that went on for weeks about that topic.

 “Unfortunately,” you blandly confirmed before Henry was laughing. In seconds you were laughing with him.

 You were so busy laughing, neither of you realized when your waitress came back with your drinks. As she placed your drinks down, you troubled her for a side plate of sliced pineapples, lemon, and lime wedges. While she hurried for your items, you stirred the mojito with the spoon that was on the table. When she returned you thanked her.

 “Mojito, huh,” Henry began with a smirk. Rolling your eyes, you scoffed.

 “I’ll bite. Tell me what my drink choice says about me.”

 Henry raised his hands defensively. “I didn’t say a word.”

 “I know you have a few to say. By all means,” you laid out signaling he had the floor.

 “Okay, since you you insist.” You smiled and rested your chin on your hand, giving him your undivided attention.

 “Mojito screams fun, party. It also says you’re relaxed, confidant, and adventurous. Mojito also says you have a lot of intrigue and spice. You have attitude and a bold personality. You’re not afraid to tell someone off and not afraid to do your own thing. You don’t kiss anyone’s ass.”

 It was easy to get mesmerized by what he said. There was something to the way he spoke, everything he said sounded almost poetic. You didn’t know if it was the accent or the tone of his voice, but you loved to listen to him talk. Smirking, you nodded.

 “Sounds accurate.”

 Henry chuckled, “Really?”

 “Maybe,” you coyly replied. Popping a slice of pineapple into your mouth, you smirked at him.

 “Go on. What do you have to say about my drink choice?”

 You pinched your lips because your instinct said just be blunt, be you, but because this was technically a not date/date, you felt you should sugarcoat a little.

 “Hmmmmm,” you exaggerated while pretending to think hard about his assessment. Henry snorted.

 “Guinness, my dad drinks Guinness, he’s British, and my grandfather on my mom’s side drinks it too, he’s Irish. What do they both have in common? They’re both from stuffy upbringings where boring is smiled upon.”

His laugh was loud, so loud; you knew people were looking around, trying to find it. Thankfully the curtains were drawn, giving you both continued privacy. When he quieted down, you continued.

 “You are not afraid of complex. Guinness, to me, is very complex. The taste is very harsh, which must mean you are not afraid of less than ideal situations or people. You have a political character, which includes having a lot of charm and poise. You know how to present yourself, and people appreciate that. You’re authentic and know who you are and what you want and don’t take shit getting it.”

 As you spoke, Henry looked more and more serious.

 “You also are a partier, you have to be Guinness is heavy and has a high alcohol content, and with it getting drunk is easy. That also must mean you hold your liquor well,” you finished.

 He looked impressed. You knew you were right or damn close to it.

 “Or you could just be a really great poser,” you added.

 The sound that you were beginning to love every time you heard it started up again—his laughter. Unable to help it, your hand found its way back into your hair to continue twirling.

 “Nice.”

 “Thank you. Accurate?”

 He glanced up with just his eyes to peer into yours, stopping your breath in the process. “Maybe. You forgot one thing.”

 You audibly gulped before you spoke. “What’s that?” It was a whisper.

 “I always get what I want because I don’t stop until it’s mine.” He never looked from your eyes, and that was what shook you. Man, you’d never been thirstier, you thought.

 “Good to know.” It was another whisper.

 You watched him take up his drink and hold it out. “A toast.” You followed his action and waited for him to continue. “To lost phones and main courses,” he finished. You smiled and tapped his glass before taking a hefty sip of your drink before popping the lime into your mouth right after. The increased burn tingled your tastebuds in an exhilarating way.

 “Adventurous indeed,” Henry muttered in a way that had your belly flipping.

 Keep it together, Aliya, you hammered in your head.

 Through drinks and appetizers, you talked. There never seemed to be one moment of uncomfortable silence between you. Henry spoke about how he got into acting and why he continued. You shared with him how you got into singing, then modeling and finally acting. When you spoke, he gave you his undivided attention and never looked bored. When he told a story about his family during his childhood or growing up with four brothers, you hung on every one of his words. Things were going swimmingly well, so well, time seemed to stand still but speed forward all at once.

 The more he talked, the more tid bits you found you liked about him. He definitely didn’t come off as the pretty boy he was made to be in the press. He was more than a pretty face, and you were attracted a lot more to his mind than his face. His looks didn’t hurt, though. You found yourself just gawking at each of his features. You watched his hands as they moved when he told his stories, he was such an animated talker.

 Every time he smiled, you stared at his mouth, and you took your time there. His lips looked soft. He looked like he was a good kisser. You didn’t even bother chastising yourself for the thought. What was the point? From his mouth and perfectly imperfect teeth, you drooled over his perfect jawline. If Da Vinci was still alive, you were sure Mona Lisa would be a blip on his radar. You moved to his clean and kempt hands and exposed forearms, intentionally staying away from his sizable arms and shoulders. You knew if you fixated on them, you would probably drool.

 When the waitress returned to inquire about your dinner orders, Henry didn’t speak. He sat there calmly and patiently, giving you the time needed to answer. While his body language spoke of confidence, the look in his eyes silently screamed uncertainty. Even the waitress looked to be silently telling you to stay and give him a chance. You gave your order and watched as he did the same.

 The rest of the night went by in a whirl. You talked, laughed, flirted, and teased each other. He revealed he was a mama’s boy but assured there would never be a scenario where his mother would have priority over his relationships because there would be no need. When you told him that both of your parents’ opinions mattered to you, he didn’t seem phased one bit.

 You loved that nothing seemed forced between you. After a little while, thanks to his down to earth aura, you forgot he was an actor and saw him as a normal man. The more you saw him as a regular guy, the connection you felt between you continued to increase. With its increase, his effect did as well. It was exhausting pretending to be un-phased by him, especially since that was not the case. You’d never reacted to any man like this before, your body was on high alert, and that scared you.

  -Henry-

Things were going incredible, better than what he’d hoped. You were a dream, and it went way past your looks. You were smart, funny, snarky, and honest. With each word you spoke, he found himself hanging off every single one. How could he not? He was sure you’d noticed even though he tried to keep himself restrained. The more he tried to do that; the more your personality compelled him to break free. It was a delicate balance he had to figure out. Never had he been this comfortable with another woman or felt such a clear connection to. Before, in passing, it intrigued him. Now with you sitting across from him, it mesmerized him.

 Everything you did mesmerized him. Your voice was like a sultry melody he had to hear all the time. Your laugh the one thing that had his heart racing. The way you licked your lips as if you wanted to savor the taste on them. The way you toyed with the curls in your hair dazed and distracted him. He wanted to sink his fingers into it as he gently brought your lips to his. It was an overwhelming urge that took every ounce of his energy to cage.

 He’d hoped that if you came tonight that he would have answers to so many questions he had since you’d met, but after everything he found out, he just had more questions. He thought he’d find things out that would dispel this attraction he felt for you, but he had no luck in that department. By the time the bill came, he was even more attracted to you. When he handed his card to the waitress, you protested, offering to split it instead. It was refreshing. Every woman he took out expected him to pay and never lifted a finger or raised a voice of splitting the bill after they’d ordered everything that was expensive on the menu. It was laughable. With you, it was unexpected, and even that had him wanting you even more.

 As the two of you walked out of the restaurant onto the sidewalk, he breathed a relieved sigh that there were no flashing cameras. Somehow, on other dates, the paps always found out where they were even with him taking every precaution. He suspected it was always his date but never voiced it. That wasn’t the case with you now.  The valet handed you your car keys after you insisted you could walk to it rather than have him bring it around.

 “I’ll walk you,” he offered.

 “You don’t have to.”

 “I do. I was raised proper, and my mother would have my ass if I did anything else.”

 You snorted, nodded, then led him on the path. As he watched you walk before him, your curves made it impossible not to watch. You walked for an audience and deduced you were so used to walking a runway that you didn’t even realize when you were doing it. When you dropped at a car and opened it, he held the door.

 “The food was delicious. I can see why your friends like it,” you expressed.

 “Yeah, you know you’re getting when you come here. Would you come again?”

 You shuffled your head from side to side with a smile. “Maybe.”  That was when your hand found its way back into your hair, and there went his focus for the next fifteen seconds, at least.

 “Eh-em, is it past your bedtime?”

 “What time is it?”

 Quickly glancing at his watch, he spoke, “Eleven-Forty-five.”

 “Well, a girl does need her beauty sleep.” He could hear the tease in your voice.

 “You have more than your fair share.”

 You bit your bottom lip as you stared at him for a few seconds. When you looked away, he saw the soft smile tickle your lips.

 “Is it yours?”

 “I’m a night person,” he replied. You nodded.

 “What were you thinking?

 “I know a great bar. The drinks are good, and the atmosphere is even better.”

 You didn’t speak right away; you watched him instead. He wanted to know what you were thinking so badly.

 “Either you’re looking for an excuse to drink more Guinness, or you actually like my company.”

 He chuckled, “I have Guinness at home, so it’s not that,” he clarified.

 Neither of you spoke for a few moments, and each passing second he felt the draw to you intensify. He wondered if you too felt it, you looked like you did. When you cleared your throat, it brought him back to reality.

 “Okay. We can do that. Where is it?”

 “On Cantina about fifteen minutes away.”

 You nodded and turned to your car. He held the door as you climbed into the driver’s seat.

 “See you there,” you said before he shut your door.

  ~~~~~~~~

He was there first. It was no surprise he was sure he blew two red lights on the way. When you walked in, it didn’t take any time at all for you to pick up right where you left off. Things were that easy. You ordered Tequila with pineapple juice, which just furthered his notion that you were this adventurous spitfire that he was sure would keep him on his toes.

 “So you split time between London and LA,” you guessed.

 “Pretty much, most of my time is in London, though. I have a flat there. I come here for meetings mainly; then, I’m back home.

 “Which do you prefer, here or there?”

 “Eck, tricky question. I’m here for work. It’s easier here for work, but London is closer to Jersey and my family. The weather is better here, but privacy is better in London for the most part. I feel more me in London.”

 “So you’re big on privacy.”

 He took a sip of his Gin and Tonic and nodded. “I haven’t had it any other way. I’m still lucky to retain most of my privacy. I've been spoiled,” he joked as he looked at you. “I take it that’s different for you.”

 You shrugged and finished your tequila then raised your hand for another. “Somewhat. I’m hounded by the paps wherever I go except Australia. I manage it well, it’s not too bad, but then again, I’ve had some time to adjust. It could very well be a hard pill to swallow for someone not accustomed to it,” you voiced.

 With every tequila shot, you had the more of your personality came out. You knocked them down back to back, further confirming everything he’d guessed earlier. After four shots, that was when your silliness came out and the curse words. While this side of you wasn’t too drastically different than the one at dinner, he did note that you had been holding back then.

 The two of you went back and forth, speaking different languages in full conversation, and it was the perfect way he’d want to spend any date. When he turned the conversation onto you knowing Gaelic, he admitted he hadn’t been one hundred percent successful with learning it and was at an abysmal forty-five percent you outright laughed at him. He suckered you into saying something, but when you spoke, he didn’t expect to be even more attracted to you because of it.

 He also didn’t expect to let his inner geek out when he confessed his love of ancient history, Egyptology, Greek, and Ancient Rome. And technology. He expected you to look at him like he was some alien when he told you that he enjoyed building computers and putting together small technical crafts, but you didn’t. Instead, you looked genuinely interested.

 After a few hours, you’d moved to a dark corner of the back, and both of you were visibly loser and were no longer holding your tongues.

 “So if curiosity kills the cat, I guess I’m dying tonight,” he began, leaning closer to you so you could hear him over the music. You smiled widely. “Did you look through my phone?”

 You snorted and laughed before you slapped your hands to your face covering it. That was all he needed. You brought your hands through your hair and tousled it.

 “How else was I to know whose phone it was?”

 He nodded and took another sip from his beer. “How much did you see?”

 “Well—not much,” you timidly began. That was when he eyed you. Your adorable “yikes” face had him snickering. “A few pictures, names on texts, a few contacts,” you confessed.

 He nodded and turned his body to yours. “Pictures?”

 “Don’t worry, I didn’t see any nudes,” you rushed out

 “I don’t have nudes.”

 “No, just suggestive nudes,” you countered.

 He smiled widely and nodded. The look on your face said you were embarrassed.

 “Bingo,” he shouted.

 “Yeah. I promise I saw nothing after that picture,” you assured.

 After he took a few gulps from his bottle, he shrugged. “Interesting, I didn’t think it was possible for me to feel more exposed than in my Superman leotard.”

 You laughed loudly bringing the eyes of the bar patrons to which you dropped your forehead on his arm, hiding your face. That had the two of you burst into a fit of laughter for the next few minutes.

 “How embarrassing,” he finished.

 “I really shouldn’t say this, but you have nothing to be embarrassed about. No big deal, right? You’re an actor, you’ve been in situations worse than this.”

 He nodded because it was true, but that paled in comparison to this.

 “Did you look through my phone?”

 With a smile, he nodded. “I did. I fought not to, but who was I kidding I couldn’t not look. One to find out whose phone it was, then curiosity got the better of me,” he fully divulged.

 As soon as he said it, you began laughing at him. He deserved it.

 “How much did you see?” He snapped his head forward and tried to keep a straight face.

 “That much, huh,” you guessed. “I don’t have nudes, so I’m safe there.”

 “Are you sure?”

 You looked to think for a few moments. He saw the terror in your eyes, and the moment you began to second guess what you had on your phone.

 “Some pictures, contacts, texts not the messages though just names,” he said, deciding to put you out of your misery.

 “I completely get that feeling now. While I have nothing to hide, I’m not shy in any way, shape, or form, but it feels strange to have someone see me naked without me wanting them to.”

 “I understand.”

 Your eyes met, and that was where they stayed for a long while, and still, it didn’t feel awkward.

 “Look at it this way. The mystery is off the table now and the uncertainty about seeing the other naked. Been there, done that,” he joked.

 Again, you laughed loudly, which had him laughing with you.

 “Interesting view.” When his straight face returned, your eyes met.

 The draw to you almost had him leaning in to you.

 “It’s late,” you quietly said.

 “It is,” he said before he finished his beer. “Can I walk you to your car?”

 You nodded, then the two of you made a move to leave with you settling the tab before he even reached for his card. When the bartender took your card, you winked at him. You were a keeper, he thought. Once you stepped outside, he saw your shiver.

 “Oooh, it got colder.” He took off his sweater and draped it around your shoulders, which brought your eyes to his.

 “Thank you.”

 “My pleasure.”

 You slowly walked to your car, so slowly you barely moved. It gave him all the time to think of something witty to say, something that wouldn’t come off weird. You made him nervous, and it was a task and a half to pretend as if you didn’t. When you stopped at the car and turned to him, your smile was soft.

 “Thank you for staying for a main course and a nightcap.” Your smile got wider.

 “I could still stand you,” you offered with a smile and a shrug.

 “Thank god, I had a lot riding on that.”

 You guffawed, “I bet.” Together you laughed, making him not want the night to end.

 You didn’t make a move to get into your car, and he wondered if you were waiting for him to make a move. He didn’t want to make a move, and you be offended. He watched you bite your bottom lip, and it was then he fully decided you were what I he wanted and that he would make you his. You dug in your clutch and held out his phone.

 “Before I forget and we do this whole thing again.”

 He took the device and scaled its weight in his hand. It felt foreign somehow.

 “Thank you,” he echoed as he held yours out to you. You didn’t hesitate taking it, but you didn’t unlock it and look through it. Instead, your eyes were right back on his.

 “Thank you.”

 “You’re welcome,” he added before you cleared your throat again and looked away.

 “You should hurry and text Francesca and Abby back, they seem to be getting anxious or desperate, you decide. An anxious or desperate woman is not a good thing for a man,” you advised as you opened your car door.

 “Get home safe.”

 “Will do,” you answered back once inside. “You do the same.”

 The draw was still there. He doubted it would go away any time soon.

 “Goodbye, Henry.”

 This one felt different than all the others. The others felt teasing. This one felt final. He didn’t like how it made him feel.

 “See you later, Aliya.

 He was not accepting this was the end. As he watched you pull out, he asserted, this was just the beginning.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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[spyvstailor]

GRAVEYARD DIRT & SALT

CHAPTER FIVE: BENNY

“South Carolina abouts they have this critter called a 'Boo Hag', said to be a skinless sort of vampire and they like to ride you to death and steal your breath. If they like you, they keep you alive, sucking your air, sustaining themselves. But if they don't, if you struggle or make them angry, they skin you and wear your skin. Just walk around like they wear pants or such. But they can't stay riding you forever, they gotta be home and in their skin before sunrise or they become trapped forever without skin.”

Please support me, I’m still out of work because of COVID, so anything you can toss my way can really help. I’m going to need to feed my kitties soon! Reblog this if you can’t donate to please support a nearly starving author!

Read the newest chapter here below the cut if you want, since ko-fi can be unreliable!

Chapter Five: Benny

When everything went to hell, Benny had been at the top.

  Maybe he still was? He had no idea how Vegas handled the swarms of the dead.

  Probably no better than Atlanta.

 God, what a fucking hole in the ground to be caught undead in. Why had he even agreed to come here to the middle of Satan's nutsack to make a deal?

  By the time he waded through the packed streets, filled with fleeing idiots, days had passed and the wave of infection had spread.

  When he made it to the edge of the city, it was almost completely overrun.

 And his private helicopter, that last hope he had of leaving Georgia, was useless, no pilot. So, he was wading his way through the land of good ol' boys and peaches, heading home.

  Because what else did he do? Just stay stuck in Georgia with the undead on his ass? Forever? The idea seemed to tickle him. It was divine retribution for all his sins. This was hell. He was in hell. Well, thanks but no thanks. He'd take his chances back in Vegas with his well-stocked warehouse and his penthouse in The Golden Rose.

  God, he missed The Golden Rose. Melody's pretty little voice chirping 'Hello, welcome to The Golden Rose', every time he passed through the lobby, or the weird night gamblers bellying up at the bar around two in the morning, sipping on complimentary Flash-bang's, the signature drink created by Bruce behind the bar. Sure he had more employees than Melody and Bruce, the others, the late-night workers who always were just a little bit off, but friendly enough. The kids fresh out of school, old enough to work at the casino, who tried too hard to impress the boss. Sven in the kitchen, who never seemed to leave, always yelling at him for coming down and making those 'nasty little sandwiches' as he called them, the open-faced ones made with peanut butter and sliced bananas on plain white bread, the sandwiches Valerie had gotten him hooked on when they were first dating. They were her favourite midnight snack and they had fast become Benny's too.

  Valerie.

  Ten years. Holy fuck had it been ten years?

 Plucking at a stretchy beaded bracelet he wore, Benny snapped it hard and shook off his thoughts of Valerie. They didn't do him any good in this new society.

  From where he sat. Perched on the railing of the bell tower, looking down across a darkened Georgia, barely peeking over treetops that surrounded the convent, Benny exhaled.

  Annie had given him the stink-eye at their new spot, full of bird shit and leaves and any kind of crap that the winds blew into the little tower, but Benny had sat her down gently onto the bearskin rug and the sleeping bag on top of it and promised her they would clean it up in the morning.

  He didn't tell her what he was thinking, he didn't tell a lot of people what he thought, no one wanted to hear his bullshit. His old man used to say 'if I want your opinion, I'll beat it out of you' and he meant it.

  The truth was, the trouble on the wall, the nun dying, had reminded him how dangerous it was. He had become too soft and spoiled lately, the dead were thinning out and he had forgotten what it was like when the outbreak first happened when it was really bad.

  They were safer in the tower, should anything happen to the gate, there was a heavy church door to open and a narrow ladder to climb before anything could get at them.

  And, sitting on the trapdoor that led to the ladder, Benny knew Annie was safer here than anywhere else.

 It had been a long, long time since anyone had relied on Benny and he took his job seriously. Nothing would happen to Annie as long as he was alive and kicking.

  During his flight from Atlanta, he had somehow wound up arm in arm with Annie and her mother Laila. They had sort of run across each other and just kept running in the same direction.

  Benny had immediately liked Laila, she was tough as hell and he had to admire that about her. Not that he knew much about her or the kid, they weren't real big on talking and he also had to admit he liked it that way.

  But Laila had his back and he had hers and they made a good team, but when she went out one morning to scrounge for breakfast and never came back he didn't think for a second the dead had gotten her. He knew her, she was a survivor.

  Something else happened.

 So he stuck around the area, hoping he'd find something which would let him know where Laila had gotten off too. And somehow, sticking around the small town, he wound up running into that marine and that Grayson kid, and when the kid started talking about men taking his sister, Benny started thinking. He wasn't a gambler by nature, despite him living in a casino in Las Vegas, but he would bet everything he had that when they found these men, he would find Laila.

  And Jesus, if he didn't also kind of like that marine.

 Not that he'd ever admitted that out loud. Admitting you liked someone, admitting you wanted to be someone's – what? Drinking buddy? At his age? Embarrassing.

  But he liked him just fine. The Cajun was a tall puppy dog, but there was something about his optimism that balanced Benny's nihilism nicely.

  On the wall below, three nuns kept vigil over Sister Mary Patrick's body. They couldn't retrieve her until morning, so they kept a quiet, mindful watch.

  And just like those nuns, Benny would keep a silent watch over Annie all night long, he would sleep when she was old enough to take care of herself.

 Sitting by the nuns' water pump in their convent yard the next morning, he watched Annie as she brushed her teeth, brushing his own with the travel toothbrush he kept in his jacket pocket. He liked to travel as light as possible, gun, bullets, knife, toothbrush and tube of toothpaste, and while he'd never admitted it, reading glasses for emergency reading, because fuck if he wasn't getting old.

  He noticed the marine traveled with a goddamn apartment on his back and that was just fine for him. Marines were trained for distance and roughing it, they were pack mules. And just as dumb.

  He needed more bullets for his tidy little Springfield, come to think of it.

  “She's a good kid,” someone said from his left. It was a male voice and not Grayson's.

 Benny ignored the marine for a moment, not wanting to chat about the fucking weather or some bullshit, spitting his toothpaste foam into a bucket of water to be dumped over the wall with the rest of the handwashing and face washing water.

  There was a nun's body being buried out behind the church right now and he didn't feel like jibber-jabbing.

 “We did our best last night,” the Lieutenant said, easing down beside him on one of the folding chairs the nuns had set up around their water source. For what? Water pump gossip? Maybe.

  “Dead nun though,” Benny replied, sipping at some water to rinse his mouth.

  The marine was quiet beside him, gazing out across the dewy lawns.

  “I didn't mean to put the squeeze to you,” he began. “Yesterday in the church. I know you don't like talking about yourself.”

  “Sure you did,” Benny returned.

 Withdrawing for a moment to regroup, the marine went on, “fine. I did a little, but...it's hard trusting people nowadays, yeah?”

  “Hard to trust people before this bullshit,” Benny shot back.

  “Fair.”

 There was a tension to the marine that told Benny he was gearing up for something, angling to reach for something during the entire conversation.

  “You got something to say, don't pussyfoot,” he said calmly.

 “Not that I don't believe you, but I want a reassurance that you're not trying to fuck us on this deal with the copter,” the marine said.

  Benny nodded. “Yeah, I thought you'd think that. I wouldn't blame you. But it's real.”

  “Well, we go in smart then,” the man stated.

  “We go in smart,” Benny agreed, stretching out his legs and resting them on another chair across from him.

  Beside him the marine remained seated, quiet in the growing daylight.

  “We done?” Benny inquired.

  “You ever hear about the boo hags?”

  “The what?”

 “South Carolina abouts they have this critter called a 'Boo Hag', said to be a skinless sort of vampire and they like to ride you to death and steal your breath. If they like you, they keep you alive, sucking your air, sustaining themselves. But if they don't, if you struggle or make them angry, they skin you and wear your skin. Just walk around like they wear pants or such. But they can't stay riding you forever, they gotta be home and in their skin before sunrise or they become trapped forever without skin.”

  “And the moral of this story is...?” Benny prompted.

  The Lieutenant shrugged, folding his arms. “Nothing really, I just think about the Boo Hags sometimes.”

 “My granny used to tell me about this guy she knew from Corpus Christi, used to hate wearing pants. He wasn't crazy or anything, just said they were too hot and itchy, so he'd walk around in his boxer shorts everywhere.”

  Around them, the nuns went about their morning routine, chores, and preparing for their morning mass after burying their fellow nun.

  “Well,” Benny said. “Maybe he was a little crazy, I guess.”

 Annie came to him and climbed into his lap, watching the activity around them quietly. It was a strange sort of calm to the morning, despite the funeral. It felt like the soft morning's Benny had at his grandparents, warms sunlight, peace, and quiet before the hectic activity of the day. It brought him back home to a home he mourned every single day of his life, a home he had only fleetingly as a boy before it was replaced with the boozy smelling mornings of his parents home.

 “Mornings like this feel like my Mamere getting ready for church,” the Lieutenant said. “She used to sing when she was getting ready in the mornings, and she'd sing,

There's a land that is fairer than day,

and by faith we can see it afar;

for the Father waits over the way

to prepare us a dwelling place there.”

 In his lap Annie rest her head against Benny's chest, listening to the marine as he sang in a fine, deep baritone. Benny knew the song well, it was his grandmother's favourite. When she finally came and took him home, to his real home with her and his grandfather, away from the chaos of his mother and father's lives.

  They were the only people who ever really loved him.

 The hymn brought back memories of Sunday mornings dressing for church, of Sunday evenings with the smell of roast chicken and his granny's baked apples, sweetened with brown sugar, butter, and cinnamon, sticky and warm.

  He didn't live with them long. They were hit by a drunk driver and killed two years after he moved in with them. Benny went back to the chaos and Edna and Merle were buried in Oak Grove.

 At the sound of the gentle singing, a few nearby nuns gathered in closer, curious, and quiet. Raised Baptist by his grandparents at least, Benny joined in with the marine, singing only very, very faintly, as though he were doing it for his granny and no one else. He would sing in a voice only barely above a whisper.

  It was Annie who joined in the singing, almost eager and happy to do something that wasn't fighting and surviving.

In the sweet by and by,

we shall meet on that beautiful shore.

In the sweet by and by,

we shall meet on that beautiful shore.

We shall sing on that beautiful shore

the melodious songs of the blessed;

and our spirits shall sorrow no more,

not a sigh for the blessing of rest.

In the sweet by and by,

we shall meet on that beautiful shore.

In the sweet by and by,

we shall meet on that beautiful shore.

To our bountiful Father above

we will offer our tribute of praise

for the glorious gift of his love

and the blessings that hallow our days.

 “My granny used to sing that one too,” Benny finally admitted, in the stark silence at the end of the song. “Yours lived with you?” He asked.

  The Lieutenant nodded. “Yeah, my grandparents raised me.”

  “Where were your parents?” Benny asked.

 “Due to circumstances beyond my control, nowhere in sight,” the Lieutenant replied, a grin in his voice. “My ma was hospitalized most of my young life,” he added in a more serious tone. “The man who impregnated her was...not important.”

  “Pump and dump?”

  “Of sorts, not really given permission for it though,” the Cajun finished tentatively.

  Benny felt his blood chill a little. “I get you.” He said, not wanting the marine to have to open up old wounds.

  “You?”

  “I lived with my grandparents for a while, yeah. My parents were...selfish pricks, they lived in Galveston.”

 “I get you,” the marine repeated his own words. Easing back in his chair, the Cajun asked, “where you from? Where'd you grow up? You said you lived in Forth Worth?”

  “My grandparents lived in Fort Worth, so I guess I moved between there and Galveston mostly.”

  “What happened to the twang? You lose it or hate it?” The Lieutenant inquired.

  Benny chuckled. “I haven't lived there for years.”

  “Can never really shake the twang though, yeah?” The Lieutenant teased.

  “I guess not. You? I know Cajun when I hear it, but where you from in Louisiana?”

  “Eunice.”

 “Eunice? That's...down south, isn't it? Way down the bayou,” he mocked the Lieutenant's accent, prompting the marine to laugh.

  “Yeah, yeah it is.”

 “Annie,” he turned to the kid in his lap. “Why don't you head inside the infirmary, okay? I'll be right there to get you set up for the day.”

 The girl slipped down to the ground and nodded, heading obediently for the building where Grayson was already getting his shit together.

 Sullen, a little pissed that he was forced to face things he had buried long ago in Texas, Benny remained quiet for a good long time. Long enough that eventually the anger dispersed.

  Benny sat still and silent so long that eventually, it was just him and the Cajun, who remained, squatted down on his haunches, resting.

  “We're running on a very short timeline,” Benny finally said to the man.

  The marine nodded. “Yep.”

 “That girl, if she is still alive, won't be so young and vibrant if she's with these men, I can tell you that right now. Feel like with no law, men will become animals, women will become prey.”

  “What's going on in that tiny bird brain of yours?” The Cajun asked.

  “You need to stay here and train up some of these damned nuns, right?”

  “Yeah.”

 “Think you could trust me?” Benny asked suddenly, turning away from the middle nothing he was staring at and pining the Cajun with a look.

 For a good long while the marine eyed him back, blue-grey eyes hard and scrutinizing. At rest the man's face was regal, but villainous, betraying his genuine kindness, at rest his face was the face of a man you didn't want to fuck with.

  “Yeah, I think so.”

  “You're going to have to know so,” Benny urged.

  “Alright, I know I can trust you.”

  “It might be riskier, but time is important, isn't it?”

  “What's your plan, fancy man?”

 “When I was poking around the church earlier, I spied some priest shit, a get up for a proper man of the Lord. Might give me a pretty good shield, might get me close enough to those men if I can find them, to get inside their group.”

  “Espionage?”

  “Whoa, slow down there Bayou-bred, that's a big word for you.”

  The two men hushed up as Grayson began to head over towards them.

  “Fuck off, Grayson!” Benny shouted.

  “Fuck you, assclown!” Grayson snarled back, veering off in anger towards the wall and the gate.

  “That kid is going to murder you in your sleep some night, paon.” The Lieutenant mused.

  “Ah well, he's a good kid, needs toughening up. Mouthy little fuck though.”

 The two men settled a little again, their ruffled feathers smoothing out in the tranquility that followed the exchange between Benny and Grayson.

  “You could get yourself killed ducking in on a group like a priest. If they find out you're not or if they happen to find out what you're up to.”

  “I know,” Benny replied. “But I'm good at it.”

  “Good at it?” The Lieutenant asked.

  Benny smiled. “Getting into places I shouldn't be as someone I'm not.”

  The Cajun was quiet, before sighing. “Okay. Cut the shit, what the fuck are you?”

 “I'm goddamned good at what I do. You just worry about these nuns. When I head out, you need to do one thing for me. You just need to trust that whatever happens once I leave this convent, I'm not going to fuck you over. Annie will stay here, she'll be my guarantee that I won't let anything happen.”

  “Okay.”

  “You tell anyone you need that I ran off in the night, just not Annie. You tell her I'll be back. You need to do this for me. Can you do this?”

  “I don't like handing the reins over, but...you're right. Time is important and these nuns can't be left alone. Splitting up might be the best bet for everyone. I'll play my part.”

  “Pact?” Benny offered, holding out his hand. He knew it was childish, but he wanted God (if there be any) to witness his honesty. For once in his goddamned life of other names, other faces, he wanted some higher power to see his bluffing ass telling a truth.

  The Lieutenant leaned back a little, before saying, “brothers. It makes you blood. You don't cross blood.”

  “Brothers,” Benny swore, the two men shaking hands firmly.

 Releasing hands, the two men sat back a little, trying to look like two men just sharing a conversation, as Mena poked her head out of the convent cloister and started their way.

  “We meet up tonight, dead of night when everyone is asleep, in the back room of the church,” Benny said softly, hurrying before Mena could join them.

  The Lieutenant nodded.

  “Gentlemen,” Mena greeted in the high toned, pretty magnolia blossom voice of hers. Pure sugar, pure south. “Good morning.”

  “Why Miss Mena, you're as pretty as a bluebell this morning,” Benny teased, mocking her southern accent.

 She offered him a stern, but sparkling warning look, the corners of her mouth lifted a little like a cat. She looked like she was grateful for the teasing distraction, grateful because otherwise, it was pure mourning and fear that remained should she not have anything to distract her from it. “You may mock me all you want, Mr. Malone, but I lost one of my flock last night and I'm not in the mood. Now, we've buried the poor woman, and we were promised training. The sooner the better, I think.”

  “Are you thinking of staying? You and Annie are very welcome to.”

 They had gotten the nuns started with whatever makeshift weapons they could find and while the Lieutenant gave them a rifle handling and maintenance crash course, Mena had once more sidled up beside Benny as he stood in the shadows of the eastern side of the church, watching the chaos, while idly thumbing through a small bible he had found in the church.

  “You're thinking of the wrong man,” he replied, motioning with his head at the marine. “He's probably yours for life though.”

 She smiled. “We love having you here, Mr. Malone. All of you.” She hesitated, before adding, “I sort of forgot how boring convent life can be until you all arrived to shake things up. Granted, we suffered a loss, but...I think we're stronger with you and the Lieutenant and even Annie and Grayson. We're no longer cloistered, we're a community center, a...a home.”

  He opened his mouth about to say something, before considering it, finally he relented. “I know a nun's faith is sacred to her, but...why did you become a nun? You seem...unhappy with your lot.”

  “I wouldn't say unhappy,” she replied. “I'm ungrateful in a small way. I became a nun to help people. Work missions and aid the poor and those most unfortunate. I suppose, I just...never felt like I was helping much here. Feel sort of immured behind these walls.”

  “Immured?”

  Before Mena could answer his question,  the Lieutenant joined them, easing against the church for a rest in the shade.

  “So?” Benny asked him.

 “Well, they don't like the idea of hitting anyone, seem hesitant, but I think when push comes to shove they know how to do it.”

  Scoffing, Benny turned to Mena. “What about you, debutante? Wanna fight with the others?”

  Mena laughed. “I'm afraid I don't care much for fighting.”

  “You need to learn how,” he went on.

  “I know how to throw a punch, Mr. Malone,” Mena argued gently.

 Inhaling calmly, Benny scooped the nun up easily in one move and had her stomach perched on his shoulder as she dangled over it in shock, her legs and knees digging into his chest in shock.

  “So you're telling me,” Benny began as Mena struggled to be put down, trying to maintain her dignity while being treated like a sack of flour, “you know how to prevent being carted off by someone like this?”

  “Mr. Malone, please?!” Mena shouted, panicked. Her ever calm facade breaking into a sort of girlish embarrassment. Shrill and just a little tremulous.

  “Don't break the nun,” the Lieutenant warned with a small grin.

 Sensing the rest of the nuns' attention and maybe wanting to cheer them up just a little with a distraction from the death of Sister Mary Patrick, Benny perked a little more, hefting the woman on his shoulder as she squirmed.

  “Are you kidding me?” He demanded loudly. “I'm two steps away from giving her a noogie. This is fun. I'm going to hold her down and snicker-snag on her if she can't break away.”

  “Don't you dare! Put me down!” Mena shouted as the rest of the nuns began to notice the noise and started wandering over towards them curiously.

  “Look at how small she is,” Benny laughed. “I could toss her over the wall into a pile of leaves like a little mouse. Hey, give me a hand, I want to try playing keep-away with this shrimp.”

 “Are you seriously bullying me right now, Mr. Malone?” Mena demanded, still draped over his shoulder, her veil fluttering to the ground, all dignity lost. “Lieutenant, please?”

  “I can't step into another man's training ring,” the Lieutenant lied. “It's not courteous.”

  “Courteous?!” The nun hollered.

  “Think if I put her down and follow her she'll lead me to her pot of gold?” Benny asked, spinning with the nun.

  A stray knee from the poor nun hit Benny in the mouth and he reeled back a little, blood drawn.

  “Alright, play time's over, kids,” the Lieutenant stepped in, moving to take Mena from Benny.

 As soon as the Cajun set Mena right again, kneeling to get her veil for her, she was puffing up like a little ruffed grouse and twirling around to poke at Benny in the chest.

  He was too distracted by the taste of blood on his lip to notice.

 Behind them the nuns that had gathered were all trying to conceal their amusement at the scene, a few of them giggling into their veils, some turning their soft laughter into mild coughs.

  “Serves you right,” Mena stated. “The indignity!”

  Benny, idly licking at his torn lip, grinned and held his hands up. “Hey, okay. Put the guns away, shrimp, you win.”

 “Blood has been drawn, no harm done,” the Lieutenant said. At Mena's sharp look, he amended that statement to a soft, “maybe?”

  “I am an Abbess,” Mena snarled, whirling on Benny again, her little finger pointed at him like a rifle. “I deserve a modicum of respect.”

  “A what?” Benny asked, pocketing his hands. “Hey, don't get mad, country mouse, you said you could handle yourself, and boy, did you sure prove me wrong.”

  “I,” Mena began, a little louder than her normal soft-spoken Southern belle coo. She stopped short and seemed to inhale, calming herself. “I...will not let you goad me into a fight, just to prove myself capable, Mr. Malone.”

  “One punch,” he pushed. “Just one solid punch and I'll leave you alone.”

  Mena was quiet, still trying to smooth her habit and veil back into place after her manhandling.

  “It might give you back a bit of that lost dignity,” Benny added in a whisper, leaning towards her.

  “Sock him, Mother!” One of the older nuns shouted.

  “And just like that the teachings of peace and forgiveness of Christ have been forgotten,” Mena murmured.

  “If you punch him then he'll stop being a bully,” another nun suggested.

  “I don't think Sister Mary Patrick would approve of this,” another nun pointed out.

  “Like it nothing, she'd love to see this cheeky man popped in his cheeky face,” yet another nun added.

  “I will not,” Mena declared. “We are not animals and I refuse to hit a man without due cause.”

 “He just picked you up like you were a duffle bag, just hit him in his pretty face and get it all over with,” Sister Mary Agnes, one of the few nuns Benny could tell apart suggested. “I would,” she added, before crossing herself quickly in a form of silent absolution.

  “Aw,” Benny gushed. “She thinks I'm pretty. Come on, Abbess, just give me one solid punch and prove yourself capable. Come on,” he went on, “I know there's an animal concealed under those robes of yours, let the lioness out.”

  “Lieutenant?” Mena asked.

  The tall man sort of took a thoughtful step back on one foot and considered it quietly, before he answered with a simple, “hit him.”

  Mena was quiet, sizing up Benny for a bit.

  He could see her small hands curling into fists at her side and tightened his jaw to take the hit.

  Instead, Mena's hands relaxed and she shook her head, turning to Annie who was watching.

  “We don't hit people who don't deserve it,” she explained to the child. “A lady must always take the high road.”

  “As short as she is, the high road would be the best option,” Benny murmured.

  Mena leveled her chin almost indignantly, still looking at Annie.

 “Good for you, Mother,” Mary Elizabeth said. “Remember Matthew 5:39. But I say to you, do not resist an evil person; but whoever slaps you on your right cheek, turn the other to him also.”

  “If he keeps taunting her I'll show him both cheeks,” one of the older nuns grumbled.

 Benny laughed to himself. He didn't know much about each individual nun yet, but he knew he liked the older nun with just that one sentence.

 “We are not a boxing club,” Mena went on. “Though we will train to defend ourselves, senseless violence is never the right path. Despite how much a man may want to be hit by a lady.”

  “It's always been my dream,” Benny added playfully.

  “I'm gonna hit him for you,” the Lieutenant broke in.

  Laughing, Benny backed away, hands up. “Okay, I wanted to get hit, not knocked out today.”

  This seemed to break up the gathering, nuns moving off, heading back to their training.

  Mena, still a little fired up, remained for a moment.

  “No hard feelings, Thumbelina,” Benny said. “I just wanted to see your form.”

 “I'm sure you felt enough of my form while I was riding high on your shoulder,” she returned a little bitterly, before walking off.

  Benny sidled up beside the Lieutenant, still grinning. “She was real mad.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Has kind of a temper.”

  “Yeah.”

  “I kind of liked it.”

  “Easy now.”

  “Don't tell me you've never thought of picking her up,” Benny went on. “She's so fucking small.”

  The Lieutenant smiled. “I mean, I could.”

 “Hell yeah, you could. You could pick me up, big guy.” As they walked off, heading for the infirmary, Annie following behind, the fancy man added, “but don't ever fucking try, because I will lay you out.”

  Chuckling, the Lieutenant opened the infirmary door for the shorter man and said, “you could never, little fancy man.”

 Inside the infirmary Grayson sat on his cot, reading a well-thumbed copy of some real crime book, looking bored and still angry.

  “Hey kid,” Benny greeted. “You need to learn some fighting too or do you think you'll pull some karate moves out of your ass when the time comes?”

  “Could kick your ass,” the kid grumbled.

  “Want to give it a try?” Benny offered sincerely. “See what you got?”

  “You have, like, thirty years on me, think I'd win, grandpa,” Grayson replied.

  “Only one way to find out.”

 “You think you'll be ready to head out tomorrow morning?” The Lieutenant asked the kid, playing his part perfectly to Benny's delight. At least the marine had a poker face. “We have to get to that airfield before noon if we want to find proper camp before dark.”

  “I was ready two days ago, what have you two been doing?”

  “Keeping these nuns safe first and foremost,” Benny said. “You know, about eleven lives versus one? Using our brains.”

  Grayson glowered at him.

  “Can the shitty attitude, we're trying,” Benny went on firmly.

 “Tomorrow,” the Lieutenant said firmly, breaking up the tension, “we will continue on the hunt for these men. Right now, I have to head out to get something for dinner for all of us.”

  “Not taking your life partner with you?” Grayson asked.

  “Surprisingly progressive, kid,” Benny mused, folding his arms. “I don't even think it's an insult.”

  “More observational than insulting,” the Lieutenant added.

  “You could do worse than me,” Benny teased.

 “Could do better too, paon.” The marine retorted dryly, offering Benny a small grin as he grabbed up his rifle. “Don't kill each other while I'm gone, yeah?”

  “Can I hang him from a flag pole again?” Benny asked. “Seems to be the best way to take the bite out of him.”

  “Fuck you, Benny,” Grayson growled.

  “That is no way to speak to your elders, son!” Benny replied.

  “Come on, kid. Let's head out for a hunt.” The Lieutenant said, stepping in calmly.

  Grayson jumped up, eager to finally help, but couldn't resist grumbling, “don't call me 'kid', old man.”

  “Don't call me old, son,” the Lieutenant murmured, ducking out of the infirmary after the boy.

  Alone in the infirmary now with Annie, Benny inhaled and turned to her.

  “You like those two?”

  She shrugged.

 Looking at the child in his care, Benny wanted to say something to her, to emote. But emotions were never his thing, once he opened that pandora's box they wouldn't stop. So he reached out and ruffled her hair, the two puffs on top, at least.

  He liked the kid, he really did. Hell, he could almost admit to himself that he loved her and if it wasn't for circumstances and his fucking weak need to be helpful, he wouldn't be leaving her at the convent.

  There were mornings, before they ran into the marine, that he would wake up from light, cautious sleep, to find her sitting up and watching him.

  She never said much, and he always wondered what was going on in her undeveloped little noodle, she didn't even really speak much even when Laila was with them. Horrors, he assumed, something that kept Laila on edge and wary of their surroundings, haunted the two of them and when Benny found the mother and child, or rather when they had found him, they were almost feral.

  He assumed it was something to do with the wedding ring on Laila's finger, of the way it took Annie months to finally take his hand without him telling her to.

  She kept close to him now, she had lost her father – as far as Benny knew, and now her mother and the child was wafting on the breeze, drifting around with no moorings. Nothing to tether her to safety and comfort, but for him.

  And Benny hated that it had to be him that poor girl relied on. He wasn't reliable, not to people who loved him – at least. He had cut his moorings a long time ago, or...maybe they had rotted with Valerie. Moldering in the grave with his beautiful wife, her cold hands clutching the last strands of the rope that had kept him from drifting.

 He didn't mind being tethered by Valerie, he liked it even. Whenever he'd go off and come home, he had a home to come to. She would be there, bright and smiling, her flower garden always in bloom, it seemed, even in the cold Rhode Island winters, when the wind came across the Atlantic frigid and cruel.

  She had died in the winter, or the early spring, rather. March. The witches tit of a month, the cold, brown spring.

  Valerie wanted to be buried, not cremated, so they had to wait another month before she could be buried.

  Benny was gone long before that. He had left the night she died, just walked away.

 He liked the poetic idea of their beautiful home and everything in it rotting with his wife, like the idea of her garden drying up and withering. No one deserved her things, or her garden or even dare come near anywhere she had walked.

  If he could, he would have built a stone wall, higher than the one that kept them safe at the convent, wider than it needed to be, all around Rhode Island. He would have kept everyone from that state. It would become a shrine to Valerie. His angel. Patient and sweet and everything he didn't fucking deserve.

 So with no option to do any of that, he burned Rhode Island from his mind, it didn't exist in his world. It was a crater, with his wife dead in the center.

  Everything he owned, everything that remained clinging to him when he walked away, was thrown into the ocean to fucking disappear. Except for his wedding band, wrapped like a napkin ring around a rolled-up photo of her, that he kept in his sock, secured by the knife strap he wore.

  When he began to feel too alive, he would torment himself, like a form of self-harm, only instead of cutting his body, he wounded his soul. He would unroll that photo and wear that ring and he would feel every moment of sorrow all over again.

  Was that healthy? Was grieving like that right? No. He knew it was sick.

 But life was fucking sick, because she was good and he was not, and she died, starving to death because the cancer that had started in her uterus had swept viciously through her body, into her stomach and everything she ate, would be thrown up, black and diseased. And she withered fast, like a rose when the frost touches it.

  But she didn't wither fast enough not to suffer.

 And even now, with the fucking infected, or the dead, whoever you asked, when they ravaged and tore people apart, he somehow lived. At first, he wanted to live, it was human nature to fight to survive.

  Valerie wanted to live too, and she died. So he would live for her if only to eat all the pain he couldn't eat of hers.

 And then he had Annie and Laila, and while they were never anything more than people surviving together, Benny had formed an attachment, the first kind of real attachment to the two of them. He had begun to re-weave that tether that had rotted away from Valerie and then one morning, Laila was just gone.

  She had left a note, she always did when she went out on her own to scavenge.

  But she never came back.

  And Benny felt another tether begin to rot.

  He was a man struggling to hold on to a handful of sand in a wind storm.

  So he held Annie's tether tight because he knew she held his just as tight.

  Yes. He did love the child.

 He wished the world was better for her, but he thanked the chaos and the randomness of numbers that he had her, and if these men had Laila, if she fell prey to them, he would get her back if she was alive and he would hand over the tether that Annie held that connected to him, back to her mother.

  But he was still stunted and fucked up emotionally, so all of this, loving the kid and wanting everything for her, came out in a hand rubbing the top of her head. Because Benny's parents didn't hug and Benny didn't know what to do with a child, he and Valerie had never had one and they never talked about having one. And then she died and he had never been around children except when he was one.

  So he tousled her hair and thought to himself that maybe someday he'd be able to express himself to someone else.

 Maybe someday Rhode Island would exist on his maps again. Maybe Valerie would finally rest in peace because he could move on and grow and learn to be a human being.

  Or maybe he would die trying to get Laila back to her mother and that girl back to her brother and maybe there would be no lesson for him to learn, no more room for him to grow.

  Maybe Georgia would become to Annie what Rhode Island was to Benny. Not because of him, he didn't assume the child held any love for him, she was only clinging to him because she was lost, no perhaps she would bury Georgia behind a wall, because of her mother, because of her father, because of the dead and because every day she woke up, she had to see a corpse.

  No child should ever have to live in a real nightmare.

  Or.

 Or maybe someday, Annie would stitch Georgia back together, maybe there could be hope for her future. The dead were thinning out and maybe her mother would return and maybe she'd find happiness, though he knew she would still have nightmares about the dead, he had nightmares about the dead, about Laila and Valerie and Annie, all roaming across the wastelands of his dreams, their eyes cloudy, milky with rot, because the cornea's had no blood flow, their fingertips turning black, their skin waxy and bloated.

  Since it had begun, Benny had seen too many children among the dead, small forms, corpses that hungered, but never seemed to eat, only tear and shred and maim.

  The thing was, the dead or the infected didn't make very loud sounds. They shuffled and they slogged, their feet dragging, but they didn't moan like the movie zombies, they would give off mewl-like moans. Something almost like the air just rising up from their bloated bellies. It was soft enough to miss if you weren't listening for it. And it wasn't often like they were sleeping and then would moan or when they mimicked and exhale of air. They were near silent forms moving like manifest destiny towards eternity.

  Beside him, Annie was very much alive and he would make sure she stayed that way. Benny was nothing if resourceful and he could use those resources to the best of his ability.

  If brute strength and survival were what the Lieutenant did best, Benny's abilities were subversive action and artful manipulation.

[13-reasons-ideas]

Finding Peace In Another- The Party Monty’s POV

A/N: I wasn't expecting for this to go quite this way, but I like how it has turned out. We learn some more about Becca. I hope you guys like it. Likes and reblog are appreciated. As always, much love. 

On the way to Bryce’s after the game, I checked my texts. Becca had texted me halfway through the third quarter. I hope you’re having fun babe. Wish I could have been there tonight, but I’m swamped with school stuff. See you in a while. Rather than respond, I decided to swing by her place with Scott. “Hey, stop at Becca’s. I want to see her.” “You’ll see her in like twenty minutes, dude.”

“I know. But I want my post game hug.”

Scott laughed, “she’s really doing a number on you, isn’t she?”

“Maybe she is Scotty. Maybe she is.”

Scott parked in front of her house and we walked to the door. We could both hear arguing inside and Scott and I shared a look. It didn’t seem overly loud or anything, so Scott shrugged and knocked on the door. A minute or two later, Becca answered the door. Her face was beginning to turn pink and she had a glint of anger in her eyes.

“Hey guys, it’s not really a good time.”

“What’s up?” Scott asked.

“Who’s at the door Rebecca?” Her dad called from behind her.

“Just a friend from school.” She called back to him. “I have to go but I’ll see you in a bit okay?” She said quietly.

“Is everything okay Rebecca?” I asked, concerned. She had never mentioned fighting with her dad before.

“Yeah, it’s okay. I’ll explain later. Bye guys.” She replied shortly and shut the door before we could answer her.

“Um. What the hell was that?” Scott turned to me.

“I have no idea.” I shook my head.

“Do you think she’s okay?”

“I don’t know Scotty.” I doubt it. Without discussing it more, Scott and I left her house and drove to Bryce’s.

The party was just getting underway when we arrived. “Hey, you guys are later than I expected.” Bryce called to us when we got into the kitchen.

“Had something to take care of.” I responded. Scott knew better than to tell Bryce details about our activities that didn’t include him, so he didn’t add anything. He merely nodded at him and we shared another look. Becca was still on both of our minds

“Alright, well do you guys want a drink or are you going to stand there all night eye fucking or whatever that is?”

We tore our eyes from each other and grabbed a couple of beers. The three of us wandered around the house for a while, whilst people showed up, filling the space. Zach found us not long after with Justin in tow. I had agreed to be nice to her friends, so I shared common pleasantries with Justin, even if I still didn’t really like him all that much. We ended up congregating near the stairs, close to the door. Bryce wanted to keep an eye on the entering guests all of the sudden or something. I couldn’t focus on the conversation. I was busy thinking about Becca and what was going on with her. She was different recently. I couldn’t place what it was or when exactly things started changing, but there was something different about her.

“What about Alex?” Justin asked me.

“What about him?” I asked, confused. Guess I should pay more attention.

“Has Becca talked about him at all recently?”

“Not really, why?”

“I was just wondering. Zach and I were talking earlier.” His eyes motioned to Bryce quickly. What the…?

“Oh, well no. She hasn’t really mentioned him outside of basics.” We abandoned the topic of Becca talking about her friends and moved onto more mundane things.

The sound of angry footsteps caught our attention. Becca marched over to us and grabbed my cup without a word and pounded the half a cup a beer back in one go. My eyes widened at her. Where the fuck did that come from? I briefly looked around our circle and they all wore variations of the same the fuck was that look. She began speaking to Bryce angrily. “Do your parents try to parent you when they get home from their trips?”

“Yeah, sometimes.”

“Is it as infuriating as what I just experienced?”

“Sometimes.” He turned to Zach and I, furrowing his brow. He had no idea what was going on.

“What happened Becca?” Justin asked.

“Are you okay?” I asked, reaching for my cup to take it away from her gently.

“Fucking peachy. And what happened Justin, is my dad got home last night. And today he decided to go off on me for no fucking reason. By the way, he knows you spend the night now.” She told him, motioning to me. My eyes widened in fear. Fuck. I don’t want to meet the parent. Not yet and not now that he knows I sleep with his daughter. “I told him to deal with it. He’s the one who made me move here and decided to leave me home alone all the time.”

“You got into that bad of a fight because Monty spends the night at your place?” Scott asked, scratching his chin.

“No. We got into that bad of a fight because he proceeded to try and play father of the decade and ‘talked’ about Jake. He was hardly around when we were kids. He didn’t know shit about him. That’s why I’m infuriated with him.”

“Holy… I’m sorry Becca.” Zach said, pulling her into a hug and rubbing her back.

“Do you need a place to crash tonight? I’m sure Mom and Dad would have no problem with you sleeping in Clay’s old room for the night.” Justin offered. I tried to ignore the crappy feeling in my chest at Justin having to be the one who offers her a place to crash.

“I don’t know Justin. I don’t want to impose.” She replied, rubbing her arm.

“It wouldn’t be an imposition. I’ll call mom and we can stop to grab your bag on the way to my place.”

“Okay. Thank you.” I wrapped my arms around her waist, and she leaned back against me. I kissed the top of her head gently, trying to comfort her and get her to calm down a little. “This is nice and all, but that beer was terrible. I need a real drink.” she told me, sighing.

“Okay, let’s get you a drink then.”

I took her hand and we walked to the kitchen. I poured her a single bourbon and Coke at her request not her usual choice but okay. She drank it slowly. I couldn’t tell if she was trying to savour the burn or build up to more or what, but it didn’t do much to quell my anxiety about where her head was at. I watched her drink it but didn’t try to talk to her. She didn’t make me talk when I went to her, so I won’t make her talk now.

When it was empty a while later, she left me in the living room to get another drink. I had a clear view of her, and I watched as she poured what looked like at least a double vodka Diet Coke. That one didn’t last as long as the bourbon. I felt a pit forming in my stomach.Something is wrong.

Not long after her second drink was finished, she went back for a refill. And then another when that was done.

She had left me alone after she had had her second drink. The look she gave me, made it clear I was not to follow her. As much as I didn’t want to leave her alone, I wasn’t sure how to proceed with her. She didn’t look like she had had so much to drink that she couldn’t stand on her own or anything, so I respected her request. I did make sure to keep an eye on her at all times though. This is really weird. This isn’t like her.

I went in search of Zach and found him in much the same state as I was. “Are you seeing what I’m seeing?” I asked when I reached him.

“Yup. Do you know what’s going on?” We watched her as she poured another drink. At least that one looked like a single. Maybe she’s slowing down.

“I don’t know. Scott and I went to her place before coming here, so I could get a hug. It sounded like her and her dad were fighting about something. And I know she said they fought, but I really don’t think the fight could have been so bad that she’s just drinking like its water. Has she mentioned anything to you about her dad and her fighting a lot?”

“No. She doesn’t really talk about her family much. I think Jake was really the only family member she cared about. Maybe she cared about her mom, but she doesn’t talk about her, like… ever.”

“I wasn’t sure if it was just a me thing. As awful as it sounds, I thought it might have been because I haven’t lost a parent.”

“No, I get it. It’s a club you can’t be in until you’re in. The most she talks about her dad is in regard to the fact that he’s never around.”

“Yeah.” I trailed off as I watched her pour yet another drink. I started to step towards her, but Zach pulled me back.

“I know you want to intervene but just hang on a second. I can’t just watch this anymore so I’m going to call Bailey.” He said, pulling out his phone. I nodded and watched him type in Bailey’s number. We walked to a quiet area of the main floor that still allowed us to keep an eye on Becca. Bailey answered on the third ring.

“Hello?” He asked, groggily. It was obvious the call had woken him up. I checked my watch and noticed it would be around one o’clock there.

“Hey Bailey. It’s Zach.”

“Oh, hey Zach. What’s up?”

“I need to ask you something about Becca.”

“At one in the morning?”

“Yeah. It’s important.” I listened as it sounded like he was sitting up. He was a lot more alert when he responded.

“What’s going on?”

“How long have you known her?”

“God. I don’t even know, years? We grew up going to school together.”

“In those years, how often was her dad around?”

He barked out a laugh on the other line. “Aside from Christmas? Not a whole lot. Her parents had a rule that he was always home for Christmas.”

“Do they fight a lot when he’s home?”

“Not really, no? What’s going on Zach? Did something happen? Did he do something to her?”

“I don’t think he did anything aside from piss her off. I wouldn’t be calling you if he had. They got into a fight before she came over to Bryce’s and now, she’s drinking vodka Diet Cokes like they’re water. I’m worried about her. She said he was talking about Jake.”

“What a fucking idiot. How many has she had?”

“At my last count, at least 6. It looked like a few were doubles. She also stole the rest of my beer.” I responded.

“Hey Monty. Well, your beer won’t do much of anything to her. American beer is basically just piss water. As for the other drinking, she generally does choose that hard stuff, but I don’t think I’ve ever seen her drink that much. I don’t even think I’ve ever seen her drunk.”

“Great.” I muttered.

“There has to be something more than just a fight with her dad and him talking about Jake.”

“I don’t know Bailey. She had to drink when she told me about what happened.”

“I wasn’t going to say anything but the day she told me, she had been drinking before I got to her place.”

“Either of you guys think she has this much to drink then?”

“No. She seemed fine.”

“Something I forgot to tell you about Becca is that when she gets stressed or has to talk about hard stuff, she might have a half a glass of wine or like half a beer. It’s legal here for her to drink. I’m not saying it’s healthy but it’s not a problem.”

“Not a problem? That sounds like the makings of a drinking problem.” I said, my brow furrowing.

“Monty, I get it. It sounds bad. But if it was a problem, don’t you think I would have said something? Or that Jake would have said something to her about it? It’s not a regular thing at all. Consider it like the equivalent of smoking a joint when you’re stressed. And before either of you give me the ‘we are athletes and don’t do that’ crap, I know people who smoke when I see them. And I know all about synthetic pee. She doesn’t have a problem with weed, she just doesn’t smoke period.”

“Okay. But what is happening now is a problem.”

“Yes. It is.” He said.

“Thanks Bailey. I’ll text you when she leaves and Justin texts me that they’re home, so you know she’s safe.”

“Thanks Zach. I appreciate it.”

After we ended the call, I walked over to where Becca was pouring another drink. I took the cup from her and kept it out of her reach. “I think that’s enough for now Becks.”

“But-.”

“No buts. Come with me.” She thought for a moment, but the look on my face said there would be no use in arguing. I took her by the hand, giving her drink to Zach as we passed him, and led her towards the master bedroom. I chose it because it was an empty, secluded area, away from people.

I sat on the floor in the hall and patted the spot next to me. I rested my elbows on my knees and she reluctantly sat down cross legged. “What’s going on Rebecca?”

“Nothing. I’m fine Montgomery.” She told me. Fine my ass.

“No, you’re not. I’ve never seen you drink like this before. Zach called Bailey. He told him he’s never seen you drunk before. He has known you for years. And don’t try to say you weren’t allowed to drink at home until you were fifteen, because my point stands.”

“He called Bailey? Why?”

“Because he’s worried about you Becks. I’m worried about you.” She looked down at her feet. Instead of responding, she leaned her head on my shoulder. I placed a hand on her knee, and we sat in silence for a while.

While we sat, I drew random patterns on her knee. It seemed to calm her down and give her something to focus on.

“I love you.” I heard her say, softly. What? She… she loves me? Did she really just say she loves me?

My hand stopped drawing for a few seconds while I thought about what she had just told me. I must have been quiet for a while because she followed it up with, “you don’t have to say it back though. No pressure or anything.”

“I love you too.” I said, equally as quietly. She lifted her head from my shoulder, and I moved to cup the side of her face with one hand. She leaned in and kissed me, before pulling away and repositioning herself.

The alcohol was clear on her breath and I pulled her in closer by her waist. We pulled away and leaned our foreheads against each other. She giggled, giddily. I smiled, widely back at her. Neither of us could really form anymore words.

“Becca? Monty?” We heard Justin’s voice from around the corner.

“I guess that’s our cue that it’s time to get up and get you to bed.”

She nodded slowly. I stood first and offered her my hand. I pulled her to her feet as Justin came around the corner.

“There you are. Do you want to head out now? Mom said it is no problem for you to spend the night tonight.”

“Okay. I’ll just write dad a note saying I’m staying with a friend tonight.”

“Sounds good. I’ll let you know when we get to my place Monty.”

“Thanks Justin. Have a good night beautiful. Take some Advil before bed.” I suggested to her, gently. Now probably isn’t the time to start telling her what to do.

“I will.”

The three of us walked to the door and she tried to give me a bear hug. She is adorable. “I love you.” She said into my chest.

“I love you too.” I spoke into her hair. I spent the rest of the night drinking water, waiting to hear from Justin. Got her home safe. I gave her a couple of Advil’s and she is in bed. I left the lamp on for her in case she wakes up in the night. She will text you tomorrow. I decided to crash on Bryce’s couch for the night. Whatever she remembers tomorrow will be tomorrow’s issue.

[companionjones]

Spawn Of... (4/5)

Pairing: Conjuring!Family!Ed and Lorraine Warren x Child!Reader

Summary: Ed and Lorraine take you to another church. Hopefully this one will be more friendly than the last...

Warnings: Talk of demons, slight mention of church on fire, scared kid

Part 1  Part 2  Part 3  Part 4  Part 5

*******

    For clear reasons, you didn’t want to get out of the car. The Warrens had taken you to another church. The new one was in Santa Monica, about 10 miles away from your foster home.

    The Warrens had explained to you why they thought the next priest would be different. The church organization as a whole had never dealt with someone like you before. Part of Father Christopher’s job was to protect, and he saw you as a threat to that which he was protecting. Ed and Lorraine promised you that the priest in Santa Monica, Father Perez, would not jump to violence nearly as quickly as Father Christopher. However, you still did not want to get out of the car.

    In an attempt to convince you, Ed crouched down next to the car. “Y/n, listen. At least one of us, if not both myself and Lorraine will be at your side. We won’t let anyone hurt you. If anything happens, we’ll get you out of there. Please, Father Perez might be able to help.”

    For a few moments, you glanced between Ed and Lorraine. You were looking for any sign of betrayal, but you couldn’t find any. Finally, you got out of the car.

    When you got up to the front doors of the church, you stopped. The whispering you had heard your whole life was back. It was louder than it had ever been before. The whispering was telling you not to go into the the church. Strangely, there was not whispering when you were entering the previous church.

    Ed and Lorraine noticed your pause. Lorraine knelt down and asked you if anything was wrong.

    Of course, you told them everything.

    The couple were alarmed. Ed crouched down to Lorraine’s level. Lorraine explained, “Sweetheart, that’s probably your biological father talking to you.”

     “The demon?” you breathed.

    She nodded, “Churches are supposed to be safe places. The demon most likely doesn’t want you to go in here because then it can’t get to you. You probably didn’t hear the voices outside of Father Christopher’s church because the demon knew what Father Christopher would try to do to you, which would make the church hallowed ground no longer. When Father Christopher didn’t succeed, the demon must have burnt down the church in anger.”

    “But what if the demon does the same thing here?” you meekly wondered.

    Ed clarified, “This church is still hallowed ground. We know a lot about Father Perez and he would never try the same thing Father Christopher did.”

    You turned back toward the door. The closer you got to the door, the louder the whispering got. You closed your eyes, took a deep breath, and stepped over the threshold.

    The whispering quieted. You were finally alone in your mind.

    An older man with his back facing you stood near the alter. It was Father Perez. Ed respectfully got the priest’s attention.

    Lorraine apologized, “We’re sorry if we’re bothering you, Father. I’m Lorraine Warren, and this is my husband, Ed. By any chance, have you heard of us?”

    Father Perez was clearly surprised by his new guests. “Yes, of course,” he answered, “You two have done remarkable things for the church.”

    After shaking the priest’s hand, Ed pronounced, “We’ve heard the same about you, Father. That’s why we’re here.”

    Mrs. Warren continued, “We didn’t know who we could trust.”

    The minister was clearly startled by the news. “Come,” he urged, “We can talk more freely in my office.”

***

    “So what do I do now? How do I get rid of it?” you asked once Ed and Lorraine explained your situation to Father Perez.

    He thought for a moment. “I don’t think there is a way for you to rid yourself of your abilities. But I also don’t think it is necessary for you to do so. Undoubtedly, this is a unique situation. I apologize for Father Christopher. The man sounded to be scared, and so he acted irrationally. So irrationally, I’m afraid his church can no longer be considered holy ground because of his actions. I can promise you I will not be following in his footsteps. In fact, I believe that with determination and practice, there might come a day that you can control these new abilities.”

    “...What about the whispers? Do I have to learn to control those, too?” The thought upset you.

    Father Perez seemed more hesitant then. He looked to the Warrens. “I believe the best course of action is to find the demon and banish it back to hell. If not...I’m afraid that the voice could get worse until the point where Y/n either joins the demon or--”

    “I kill myself,” you finished with a tinge of disbelief in your voice.

    The priest confirmed, “I’m afraid so.” 

    Ed consoled you, “Well, it’s a good thing you have us. This is what we do, Y/n. We’ll keep you safe.”

    Lorraine nodded in resolute agreement with her husband before turning back to the minister. “But why now? Why did Y/n only start experiencing their powers yesterday?”

    Furrowing his brow, Father Perez inquired, “How old are you, Y/n?”

    “Twelve,” you answered, confused by the question.

    Realization washed over the clairvoyant. “It could be a mockery of the bible. Twelve is considered to be the perfect number in God’s eyes. When was your birthday?”

    “Last week,” you responded.

    Mr. Warren cut in, “That explains it. There wasn’t any trigger for Y/n to use their powers until yesterday.”

    As Ed and Lorraine planned on what to do about your biological demon father, Father Perez caught your eye. He wished you a happy birthday. Despite the situation your birthday brought you that year, Father Perez’s words made you smile.

    You put your focus back on Ed and Lorraine. They were disagreeing on something.

    Ed shook his head. “I don’t like it.”

    His wife sighed, “Neither do I, but if we don’t act now, Y/n might be lost for good.”

    “What is it?” you asked, “What are you guys talking about?”

    Both of the Warrens looked at you. Ed took a deep breath before he explained, “We have a plan...but it is dangerous...”

    Lorraine finished for her husband. “It’s possible you could get hurt.”

    “But the demon will go away?” you optimistically inquired.

    She cautioned, “If our plan works, yes.”

    “Okay,” you agreed after some thought, “Yeah, let’s do it.”

*******

Author’s Note: Thank you so much for reading! Fill up that heart and reblog if you liked it. I also would love a comment if you have the time. If you would like to read more, I have more fics over on my page. You should go check it out. Also, REQUESTS ARE OPEN. I take requests for one-shots, drabbles, multi-chapters, headcannons and preferences. No smut, please. I write for a variety of fandoms. If you’re wondering if I write for a specific fandom, please ask me. Have a nice day, night, or whatever time it is for you.<3

[elyreywrites]

hips don’t lie (shakira shakira)

a crack fic born of a typo, and enabled by discord (shout out to the C&C discord server!! y’all are amazing.) also, it was a motivational gift for a friend. and a huge thanks to Bumpkin for being my beta on this fic!

title from Shakira’s “Hips Don’t Lie”.

please REBLOG -- DO NOT REPOST

AO3 Link

Teen 1,895 words Tim Drake & Dick Grayson & Jason Todd & Bruce Wayne part of my batkids shenanigans series

Summary:

Tim breaks a hip. Dick and Jason fight for the right of sitting shotgun. Barbara is the Actual Best. And Bruce is Suffering.

- - - - -

Tim leaned back against the wall in his cell and waited. He certainly wasn’t going to escape at the moment – not after some goon had slammed a metal bat into his hip. Standing wasn’t going to happen, much less fighting. As it was, Tim could block out the pain while sitting down and not moving. He’d dragged his body out of the desert after he was stabbed in the spleen, he could ignore this pain.

The sound of shattering glass and indistinct yelling brought a grin to his face. Ah, his rescue had arrived. Who did they send this time? The gunfire that broke out could mean Jason, or the goons had guns. Maybe both. The only guarantee was that it wasn’t Damian. He had a final paper due in the morning for school and Bruce ordered him off patrol.

The commotion lasted all of ten minutes. After another couple of minutes, something banged on the other side of the door.

“Hey Red, yell if you’re in here,” called Dick. After a second, he squawked, “What was that for?”

“He might be unconscious and can’t fucking answer,” Jason snarked.

Huh, both of them to the rescue. “I’m conscious,” he yelled. The lock clicked and his two older brothers strolled in, the keys dangling from the lock.

“Oh good,” Jason drawled, “then you can explain why the fuck you didn’t escape on your own.” He tossed Tim an extra comm, which he immediately put in.

Tim hummed. “I mean, it might have something to do with the metal bat that some asshole caught me in the hip with.”

Both men paused, just as Bruce appeared in the doorway. Tim knew his eyebrow was raised expectantly under the cowl. Tim looked straight at him and said, “I’m not very hip.”

In the background, Dick started snickering as Jason choked on his laughter. Bruce, though – Bruce went still. Bat still – the kind he only got in two situations. One, if he was about to drop into a fight. Two, when one of his kids made an exceptionally bad joke. The second often came before the Heavy Sigh of Exasperated Dad. “Your hip is injured,” he inferred, returning to the matter at hand. “What else can you tell us about the injury?”

Smirking, he complained, “Help, I’ve fallen and I can’t get up.”

The snickering turned into near-hysterical giggles. Jason was wheezing under the helmet. And there was the Heavy Sigh of Exasperated Dad.

“Someone call Life Alert!” Dick gasped out through his giggling.

“Fucking hell, kid,” Jason managed. “You little fucking shit. We were worried about your goddamn ass, and here you are, making shitty jokes like you’re Nightwing.”

“Hey!”

Bruce shook his head. “Your hip might be broken. Let’s–”

Dick cut off their father. “That’s so sad,” he choked out past his widening grin, “Oracle, play ‘Hips Don’t Lie’.”

Bruce froze. Tim watched with glee as Jason sunk to the floor, his wheezing turning into the high-pitched keening of someone laughing without air. And then – because Babs was the Actual Best – the song started playing over the comm line.

Ah, there it was: the second Heavy Sigh of Exasperated Dad, almost entirely drowned out by Shakira’s “Hips Don’t Lie”.

“Why,” he asked, long-suffering. “Why do you do this to me? Just… you two, get to the Batmobile. I'll get Red.”

Tim raised an eyebrow behind the mask. “You’re the one that chose to be a father. Really, you should have expected this.”

Bruce tilts his head, his own equivalent of a raised eyebrow when he’s in the cowl. “Oh, I’m supposed to expect my children to reference memes and make jokes when one has broken a hip. That’s what I was supposed to be prepared for, when I decided to take in a grieving child. The parenting books never warned me about that.” He leaned down and tried to carefully pick Tim up, as Tim gritted his teeth against the pain. In the background, “Hips Don’t Lie” faded away.

Over the comm, Jason scoffed. “As if you ever read any parenting books.”

“I know for a fact that you didn’t,” Dick added. “Agent A made enough pointed comments about it that I know you didn’t. Also, I call shotgun.”

“You can have shotgun over my cold, dead body, you dick!” Jason snapped.

“First of all, stop joking about your death! Second of all, fuck you, you know the rules! Hood, get back here! I fucking called shotgun as soon as the Batmobile was in view, respect the fucking rules!”

“You’ll have to drag me out!”

“Red Robin gets shotgun,” Batman cut in.

Tim looked at Bruce blankly. “One, Red Robin is staying out of this, as one of them has already tried to kill me before. Two, Red Robin has a broken hip and needs to be in the backseat, because there is no way in hell I can sit upright very well right now.”

“For shame, B,” Dick sighed. “Hood, I swear to fucking god, get the fuck out of shotgun! Batmaaaaan, Hood isn’t following the ruuuules!”

Tim felt the Heavy Sigh that time. Damn, three in one night? They were doing pretty well. “That’s not really anything new, though, is it?” Tim snarked.

“You wanna fuckin’ go, punk?” Jason called back.

Closer now, Tim could see as Dick shook his head in over-dramatic disappointment. “I can’t believe you, Hood. Breaking the Sacred Rules of Calling Shotgun. Threatening to fight a kid with a broken hip. What would Agent A say?”

“Oh shit.” Tim whispered, grinning, “you’re gonna be in trouble.”

Jason growled back over the line, apparently kicking out at Dick from his spot in shotgun. “Fuck you, I’m an adult!”

Someone hummed on the comm line. “Would you care to repeat that?” Alfred said, as calmly as ever.

At the same time, Dick grabbed Jason’s leg to pull him from the Batmobile. Both things caused Jason to squawk as he landed on his ass on the ground. “No, Agent A. Sorry, Agent A. Hey, that is not fair, I got there first! I have longer legs, and you’re gonna stick me in the back?!”

Bruce stopped for a second, watching the chaos of Dick trying to get into the passenger seat by climbing over Jason, who was still laying on the ground, while Jason kept grabbing his legs and pulling him back out. Tim watched Bruce, waiting. Wondering.

Bruce inhaled and–

Jason and Dick both froze as they heard the fourth Heavy Sigh of the night.

“Is… is that a record?” Jason asked, in a reverent whisper.

“I don’t know,” Dick replied, just as awed.

Tim smirked. “Robin and I have managed seven in one night.”

“What?!” Dick shrieked.

“How?!”

Bruce only looked tiredly upon his eldest sons. “Robin and Red Robin,” he said, as though that was enough explanation. Tim had to admit, it kind of was. No need to mention that it was only for show now, more for the purpose of antagonizing their family than anything else. Cass knew, because Cass always knew, but she only giggled whenever she witnessed their fights.

Jason and Dick stared at each other, Dick’s leg still caught in Jason’s grasp. “We can probably get at least five before we get back to the Cave,” Dick muttered lowly, as though the comm wasn’t picking up everything he said.

“Done,” Jason said. “But I still got here first so stop trying to claim shotgun.”

“Hmmm, nope. I called it as soon as the Batmobile was in view. Them’s the rules, little brother.”

Jason snarled. “I’m taller than you! I need the extra leg space more!”

“You are barely taller than me, and not enough to really matter for leg space.”

Batman carefully put Tim down so he was stretched out along the length of the backseat and climbed in the driver's seat. “How is it,” he began, “that Red Robin, your younger brother, is acting more mature than both of you.”

Jason and Dick both stared at Bruce in utter betrayal. Then Jason looked back at Dick. “Go share the backseat with Red, you’re the oldest. He’s in pain. He needs his big brother to tell him it’s okay.”

“God no,” Tim muttered. He did not want Dick’s smothering right now.

Dick gasped, head snapping to stare at Tim. “Holy shit, I didn’t even think about that! Red, does it hurt a lot? You need a hug.”

Plans for revenge were already forming in Tim’s mind as Dick climbed in the backseat with him, letting Tim lean back against him. Dick’s arms wrapped around Tim in what some considered a hug and others considered an inescapable hold. A hand was already carding through his hair and his oldest brother reassured him that they’d be back at the Cave soon. Jason was snickering from the passenger seat.

Dick needed a distraction.

“Hey, O?” Tim asked, “Can you connect to the Batmobile? You probably already know what I’m thinking.”

“Sure thing Red,” Barbara smirked. He knew she did – he could hear it. Through the speakers in the car, “Hips Don’t Lie” started playing, again.

Tim didn’t miss Bruce’s hands tightening on the steering wheel, probably refraining from sighing again. Of course, now that he knew they were actively trying to antagonize him, it was going to be a lot harder.

As Tim expected, with Shakira blaring out of the speakers, Dick and Jason joined in on the singing. Loudly and off-key. A grin stretched across his face. Normally, he’d join in, but the pain was a bit too much for him to do that. That was fine, Bruce was getting twitchy enough as it was.

There was still no sigh yet, though. No matter how terribly Dick and Jason sang along, even going so far as to be off-beat, Bruce only twitched. At least, until the Spanish came.

“You know Spanish,” Bruce whispered, pained, as Jason sang English words that sounded just similar enough. Dick was doing the same, but without coordination, they were singing different words, creating the sound of pure chaos. “Why are you doing this to me?”

“You only have yourself to blame,” Tim snickered.

The fifth Heavy Sigh of Exasperated Dad cut the awful singing off so Dick and Jason could scream their victory. Tim regretted nothing as he slammed his head back into Dick’s chin.

“Ow! Reeed, whyyyy?” Dick whined, leaning his head back away from Tim.

Tim would have twisted around to glare at him if that didn’t seem like a Bad Plan. “You yelled in my fucking ear! What the fuck is wrong with you?!”

“We’re here,” Bruce called desperately, dragging himself out of the car. “Please, boys, please. Just… stop. It’s been a long night. Take pity on your old man.”

“Eh, I’m gonna go the fuck to sleep anyway,” Jason shrugged as he climbed out. “We succeeded in our goal. Have fun with the broken hip, Timmers! Night!” Tim watched him go, incredulous. A broken hip wasn’t what he’d call “fun” – despite the jokes and references that could be made.

Dick helped Bruce get him out of the car, and then smirked. “Your new ringtone is ‘Hips Don’t Lie’, just so you know. Night, Timmy!”

Tim watched his brothers leave, beginning to twitch himself. “I’m never going to live this down, am I?”

“You’ll never be hip again,” deadpanned Bruce.

[spikeymarshmallows]

alright bitches, saddle up. it’s headcanon-ing time.

inspired by this post.

Specifically this section:

The standard urban fantasy female protagonist dating a werewolf who is not an alpha. Bonus points for it being a cute beta werewolfess who thinks her girlfriend’s perpetual posturing as the ‘baddest bitch on the block’™ is the most adorable thing ever. Extra bonus points for fuzzy baby werewolves and adopted babies. (Because actual wolf packs? Exist to raise children. They’re family units, focused around rearing cubs.)

#werewolves #queer wolves #werewolves as the foster parents of the supernatural world #if there’s a kid so much as sniffling in their general vicinity they’re going to get adopted #the fae discovered that they could straight-up hand off changlings to werewolf packs #no deception needed #magic using children of mundane parents who can’t handle it? #every pack has a dozen of them #fic ideas

okay this is one of the cutest reblogs I’ve gotten. imagine it werewolves just going YES FAMILY GOOD and adopting everyone and making sure they get attention and food and understand that it’s fine to be who you are and that you’re not alone, you’re pack now

Okay, I tried to do the Tumblr aesthetic thing, but it turns out, it takes more effort for me *not* to use capital letters, so fuck that.

Okay, but just imagine. The kids are all 13. Five has not yet fucked off into ye olde apocalypse. Reginald has caught Klaus wearing eyeliner and dancing around in one of Vanya’s skirts, because Allison rumoured him into doing 300 pushups last time he was caught in hers, and Vanya has no spine. So Reggie’s just shoved Klaus in the mausoleum, and as soon as he’s been let go, a sobbing Klaus sneaks out of the house.

He’s hiding in the alley outside the house, one of many probably, and is crouched on the ground, sniffing wetly and wiping furiously at his eyes. The eyeliner is long since smudged, but it’s stuck around because, hey, it’s not waterproof but it’s that shitty 90′s eyeliner that takes an insane amount of effort to get off. And he’s rolling a joint, but his hands are shaking.

And this queer werewolf couple happen to be walking by, and super-hearing etc etc, hear a kid crying.

And one of them is all “CHILD. CRYING. MUST PROTECT”.

“Maggie, ffs, you can’t just walk up to strange children and adopt them” “WATCH ME”.

And so this lovely werewolf couple, who are young, and haven’t been able to have kids of their own yet (but have a lovely pack back home) go and talk to a crying Klaus.

And Reginald has taught the kids loads of useless shit, but teaching them stranger danger? Nahhhh son. Sure, Klaus could put up a good fight, but why would he want to fight this nice couple?

And so, through tears, Klaus talks to them, and Maggie is like, looking up at her partner, Sofia, with these big earnest eyes. Because Sofia was like this, trapped with a shitty family who wouldn’t accept her for who she was. And Maggie is like “CAN WE ADOPT HIM” and Sofia is “...you can’t just take a kid off the street and adopt him” except Maggie basically did it to Sofia when they were both seventeen, so it’s not an effective argument.

And Klaus is crouched there, still in his damn skirt, his knees all bruised and filthy from being in the mausoleum, and his hands are grimy and a little bloody, and he can’t fucking roll this joint, and Sofia is just “he’s thirteen and smoking weed? THIS CAN NOT GO ON. MUST. PROTECT.”

And god, it does not at all take much convincing to come home with them except--

“I can’t leave without my favourite brothers 🥺“

Cue Klaus racing inside, trying to grab Ben and Diego to drag them off to his new family. And honestly, they’re not that hard to convince to leave either although they wonder if Klaus has lost the fucking plot, because he’s rambling and raving and not entirely making sense and he’s filthy and--well, he’s Klaus.

But Luther is very “No, we cannot split the team up >:(” and Klaus is just “Okay. Come with us, dipshit.”

And where Luther goes, Allison follows. That said, Allison had been listening from her room and is intrigued at the idea of an adventure.

And Five, who thinks they’re all a bunch of idiots, is just... “Ugh, I’m coming with because it’s me who will need to get you out of trouble when you inevitably land in it”.

And Five (and Ben) don’t like to leave Vanya out, so as soon as she’s back from her violin practice, they sneak her out too.

And that’s the story of how this lovely queer werewolf couple went on an afternoon stroll and adopted seven kids.

Because, hear me out if you’ve made it this far....

It’s initially a bit weird. The kids are used to competing for love and attention, for any skeric of a compliment. There are tiffs, really fucking fast. And Mom’s are like “Kids, this isn’t good pack behaviour”.

Luther’s ears pricking up because... “...does... does this mean we get to do Pack Bonding????”

Yes it does.

There’s no competitions here! Not any more than friendly ones, anyway. No competing for attention or love. It’s just lavished upon them because there’s a pack! Lots of parents!

Imagine one of pack members taking Luther outside to study the night sky, and teaching him all about moon cycles, and different stars and constellations. Some of these werewolves are as strong as him too, and he can spar without having to hold back!

Imagine some pack members saying “hey, Diego, let’s see who’s the fastest!” and Diego just *heavy breathing*. And of course, they let him win, but not in an obvious way. Just slowly building this kids confidence up, piece by piece. They don’t care about his stutter, and they show him love in loads of cuddles, and he learns to howl at the moon.

Allison is just... sisters. She’s always liked being the centre of attention, and so it’s an adjustment to be here with so many others. But she still gets attention. She’s shown that she doesn’t need to hold the limelight to be loved and valued and cared about. She doesn’t need to Rumour anyone because her opinions are actually allowed to be listened to. Why Rumour someone when she can just state why she wants to do something, and it’ll probably be allowed.

And they got to Klaus before his addiction spiralled out of control. They take him through graveyards during the day, not to make him control his powers, but to show him that he's never alone when facing his demons. Maybe they take him to a family crypt or something and introduce him to great grandmas and shit like that. It's hard to be scared of the dark and of demons when your parents run through the forests and howl at the moon and you have friendly ghosts on your team to talk to you when things get hard.

Some pack members are super smart, and for the first time, Five isn’t the smartest in the room. He weirdly relishes it. His thoughts and opinions and desires are listened to as well, and whenever he’s told no, he actually listens to why that is. Instead of treating him like a little asshole, they encourage his love of learning.

And then there’s Ben... Werewolf Parents: Now, Ben, we all have difficult things inside of us to control. Let's work on that and, also, on loving that beast inside us. 😌 Ben learns to control the Horror and it becomes like a giant swing and like, all the pack kids wanna be swung around by the Horror.... Cue pictures of the Horror with little ribbons wrapped around its tips or some bizarre and soft shit like that.

And finally, Vanya. Vanya, who is still Ordinary, at least at first. The Pack doesn’t mind her being on her meds, and don’t mind that she’s quiet and ordinary. There are other humans in the pack too! And they all love listening to Vanya play... Even when she’s just practicing, she usually ends up with a few people sitting there, delightedly listening in. And as time goes on, she thinks “hmm, maybe I don’t need these things for my nerves anymore... Maybe... Maybe I will be okay without them?” and Mom’s are like “well, there’s no problem if you need to go back on them, but if you want to try, we support you : )” And RUH ROH, there are powers??? HOLY SHIT. She’s mad as fuck, but instead of it being disastrous, she has loads of love and support. Like Ben, like al of the siblings, she has people there to help her learn how to manage her powers, and her emotions.

The kids are just totally loved upon and cherished and have someone there for them all the time.

And let’s not even get started on pack cuddles. actually, no, let’s.

Reggie used to be a real cunt about the kids and their need for contact. I mean, sure, they still tried to sneak into each others rooms for platonic cuddles all the time, but they sure as hell paid for it. And now?? Now, they can cuddle as much as they fucking want. Oh, Ben, Diego and Klaus wanna snuggle together every night? No worries, kids! We’re just gonna get you all a bigger bed and we can turn one of the bedrooms into a study or something. And slowly, there are just... entire pack cuddles. Allison has a bad day, and Klaus tugs her into the pile. And Luther sees and... Snuggles up behind her. Vanya, who is getting better at not being left out, who is more confident in herself, doesn’t fight when Allison brings her in. And Five? Five pretends he’s only there for Vanya, but they all know it’s a lie.

But they don’t call him on it.

Anyway. I’m just very here for a nice pack of werewolves adopting my babies, and them growing up happy and well-adjusted, and loved, and-----*record screeches to a halt*

DIEGO LOVES HIS NEW MOMS. BUT HE MISSES GRACE SO MUCH T.T

....So the Umbrella Academy band together for one final mission: to Mom-nap Grace.

It’s all very dramatic. I haven’t seen Spy Kids since I was, what, 13, but I’m gonna pretend it’s like that. They Mom-nap Mom, and she goes happily because she’s missed her babies and she gets to join the snuggle pile too. She loves helping out her new family too! And she learns new recipes and shares some of her own! Mom is happy too because LET GRACE BE HAPPY.

Anyway, they grow up happy, and well-adjusted.

And still as incestuous as fuck.

Like, that still happens in every universe.

And the wolf pack are like *chinhands* because like. Whatever.

/END