#recently i cut my hair and i looked in the mirror and i looked just like him

[makedamnsvre]

there are things abt me that i dont talk about not because im being secretive i either just forget to mention it or think no one wants to hear about it but i think it gives like important context to whats wrong with me 💖

[fingertipsmp3]

I think the weirdest lie I’ve been told by a pathological liar was when this friend I had in secondary school told us all she got kicked out of her house and was living in like a random shed and didn’t have access to a bathroom or electricity, and everyone was somehow believing her, and I was just looking at her like.. your hair is straightened, teeth brushed, you washed your face and you smell of soap

[ame-to-ame]

making a note here for myself to draw my bandsona w/ the mv of gbtru bc it fits so well rahhh Once i have The Time

[talkorsomething]

... i think i actually liked my middle part / weird sort of mullety thing i had goin on for a little while there, until it started growing out more...

...

I dunno.

I keep seeing myself in the mirror and i don't really ... recognize it. Like my mental image of myself is just ... gone?

I thought i'd like this, but really my hair just does not do what i want it to (not sure what that even is)

Point for going on t? Maybe. Could also be a point against it...

[slu7formen]

MDNI. luke x fem!reader

you and Luke end up stuck in the same motel room on a mission, but as he tries his best to stay as far away from you as possible, he ends up with you sitting on his lap and moaning his name.

warnings: enemies to lovers (?, reader’s godly parent is not mentioned, CLASSIC share-the-same-bed prompt, cussing, clothed s3x, pet names, teasing, kinda virgin!luke, dom!luke for a sec, luke sees reader in her underwear

reminder: english’s not my first language so I apologize for any spelling mistakes

₊˚⊹♡

The groan of the rusty –stolen– car door echoed in the woods like a death knell. You slammed it shut with a wince, the throbbing ache in your shoulder protesting the movement as you placed your bag on it. The vehicle now lay crumpled against a giant redwood, a testament to the gigantic beast you'd just barely managed to outrun before Percy took take of it with Anaklusmos.

And him, ever the optimist, managed a weak attempt at sarcasm. "Well, that went great, don´t you think?" he muttered to you, his voice laced with exhaustion. A fresh cut adorned his cheek, a reminder of his near-death experience, from their recent encounter.

Luke, face dirty and torso sweaty, slammed the trunk shut with a finality that mirrored the exhaustion etched on his face. Dirt smudged his usually perfect features, and sweat plastered his black hair to his forehead, a sight that would have sent shivers down the spine of any other girl at camp. On you, however, it just fueled the simmering fire inside you that made you want to punch his face.

He slung his worn backpack over one shoulder, the weight of responsibility and fatigue pulling him down.

"Remind me not to let you drive again. Ever." he said to you, his voice laced with a mocking lilt.

You rolled your eyes, the familiar irritation sparking within you. "Oh, give me a break" you spat back, hands on your hips. "I'm the only one with a license here, genius."

"Is your license useful when it comes to a stolen car, genius?" he replied, voice lowering to match his mockery and a punchable smirk playing on his lips. He really knew how to push your buttons, even when you were both staring down the barrel of another night on the run, another night without a decent meal or a good night's sleep.

"At least I can drive" you countered, ignoring the prickle of annoyance that ran down your spine. "Besides, who else would have gotten us this far? You?" You gestured towards the flickering neon sign of a ramshackle motel in the distance, a beacon of hope in the gathering darkness.

"Enough" Annabeth said, her voice firm despite the tiredness in her tone. "You two can fight later, but right now, we need to find somewhere to stay. I am not spending another night sleeping on a tree"

With a determined stomp, she marched towards the side of the road. You and Luke both took a step forward at the same time, then stopped, locked in a silent battle of who would yield. You mockingly straightened your arm towards Annabeth's path. "Ladies first" you said to him.

He squinted his eyes playfully as he walked past you. “Very mature” he muttered.

The flickering neon sign cut through the twilight like a neon lifeline as you walked. ‘The Sun n' Sands Motel’ proclaimed in faded glory, the letters crooked and the sun sporting a single, sad-looking ray. It wasn't the exactly luxury, but after days on the run, a crumpled car, and a near-death encounter with a creature straight out of your worst nightmares, this place looked like a five-star resort.

"Finally" you sighed, relief washing over you in waves. You could practically smell the promise of clean sheets and a bed that didn't groan ominously with every movement. And a shower. Gods, you craved that.

Pushing open the glass door, you were greeted with a musty scent that hung in the air like a forgotten memory. The lobby was small and poorly decorated, the faded floral wallpaper clashing horrendously with the worn brown carpeting. Behind a chipped counter sat a woman whose age defied easy categorization. Her hair, the color of tarnished silver, was pulled back in a tight bun, emphasizing the deep lines etched around her eyes. She sat engrossed in a beauty magazine, oblivious to the four weary demigods who had just entered.

With a sigh that condensed the exhaustion of your entire journey, you approached the counter. Slamming a wad of crumpled bills onto the counter, you declared, "Rooms for four, please."

Percy shuffled behind you, his eyes flitting around the room with a mix of curiosity and apprehension. Annabeth scanned the lobby for any signs of potential danger, her hand instinctively resting on the hilt of her dagger.

The woman finally looked up, her gaze lingering on you for too long before flickering to the rest of your group. A slow smile played on her lips, a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "One room, two beds?" she drawled, her voice thick with a southern twang that seemed to grate on your already frayed nerves.

"Two rooms" you corrected, forcing a smile that felt more like a grimace. Sharing a room with Luke Castellan, a roof, again, even in this desolate outpost, was an idea so abhorrent you couldn't entertain it for a second.

As if sensing your objection, the woman tapped away at a dusty computer terminal. A smirk played on her lips. "Couple's getaway, huh?" she asked, her eyes darting from Luke, back to you.

Percy and Annabeth exchanged a surprised and disgusted look. "What?" you demanded, your irritation bubbling over.

But before you could react, you felt Luke´s heavy arm slunging casually around your shoulder, his voice dripping with mock sincerity. "Looks like we're gonna have to get a little bit cozy, don't you think, baby?" he drawled playfully.

You gritted your teeth, biting down on the inside of your cheek to keep from exploding. You knew perfectly well he was just trying to get under your skin, and the worst part was, it was working. The thought of sharing a room with him was bad enough, but the idea of him calling you "baby" sent shivers down your spine – not of pleasure, but of pure, unadulterated annoyance.

Faking a sickly sweet smile, you leaned in and delivered a sharp elbow jab directly to his stomach. He doubled over with a groan, clutching his center for a moment. "Call me 'baby' again," you hissed, your voice low and dangerous, "and I'll punch way lower than that."

“Got it, muscles” he wheezed.

The receptionist, clearly enjoying the spectacle, leaned back in her chair and tapped away at the computer again. "Right now, we have one room with a double bed, and another one with two single beds" she explained.

You glanced back at Annabeth, a silent question hanging in the air. She nodded in understanding. Two single beds might not be ideal, but it was infinitely preferable to sharing a room with Luke.

"We'll take them" you declared.

The woman expertly counted the money, her lips pursed in concentration. "Rooms thirteen and fifteen." she announced, handing you two keys. "No smoking inside, and do not break anything, or you'll be charged double" the lady continued, her voice laced with a warning that was clearly aimed at you and Luke.

As you all four walked towards the stairs, you tossed the key to room fifteen at Luke. He snatched it reflexively in the air, a hint of confussion in his face. “Boys, you´ll share a room” you declare.

Luke scoffed behind your back. "What are we? Eleven?" he asked.

"It was a nightmare to drive a car with you in it" you retorted, "can't imagine what it would be like to share a room."

Later, after some questionable inspectioning around the room and re-organizing your bag for when you leave tomorrow morning, you finally had a little time to yourself.

The cool water splashed against your face, washing away the grime and exhaustion of the day. You glanced over at Annabeth, who was meticulously placing her most important things on the floor to clean and organize her bag; her dagger, her cap, a rope, a squished water bottle, and a few maps. Despite the cramped confines of the motel room, a sense of peace settled over you. Even with Luke's irritating presence hanging over your head, it was a welcome change from the constant fear and adrenaline that had fueled your journey.

A sharp rapping on the door snapped you out of your reverie. "Coming!" Annabeth called out. She opened the door just a crack as you peeked your head out of the tiny bathroom door. You were greeted by the sight of a very smug-looking Percy. His cheeks were puffed out, and he was clutching a brown paper bag that seemed precariously close to bursting.

"Uh, hey" he mumbled, his voice muffled through a mouthful of something chocolatey. "I raided the vending machine downstairs” he simply explained.

Annabeth turned towards you. “Dinner?” she asked.

The offer of a snack, however meager, was enough to send your stomach grumbling in protest. The idea of a proper meal sounded heavinly, the food from camp, the meat, the mashed potatoes. Gods, you really wanted to be back. But right now, even the greasiest bag of chips could be enough for you.

Percy shoved his way past Annabeth and into the room. He disgorged his loot onto the small bedside table that sat between your beds. Annabeth, with her usual organizational skills, started to create a semblance of order from the chaotic pile of snacks.

Across the room, you noticed Luke still leaning against the doorway. He had shed his usual polished exterior for a pair of worn sweatpants and a plain t-shirt, a sight that momentarily threw you off balance. He took you in with a lazy glance, his eyes lingering on your tired face and messy hair. "Looking good" he called, a smirk playing on his lips.

One of your eyes twitched in irritation. Grabbing the wet towel you'd been using, you flung it at him with a growl. He managed to snag it out of the air just before it connected with his face.

"Hilarious" he remarked.

Annabeth jumped in before the playful hostility could escalate further. "How about a movie?" she suggested, her voice laced with a hint of forced cheer.

The idea wasn't exactly appealing, but the prospect of some semblance of downtime outweighed the absurdity of watching television in a dingy motel room. You and Luke exchanged a glance, a silent agreement passing between you. You didn't know how much peace you could get in the middle of a mission, or for how long, but the idea of just sitting down and eating calmly while watching a movie was undeniably tempting. Even with the dubious snacks and the cramped quarters, it felt like a small oasis in the storm of your current situation.

The movie selection on the ancient TV was limited, to say the least. After a series of disgruntled grumbles and channel surfing, they settled on a cheesy romance movie with a plot that could have been predicted by a hyperactive squirrel. The acting was atrocious, the dialogue predictable, and the special effects looked like they were created by a bored teenager with basic editing software. Yet, despite the movie's inherent ridiculousness, a strange sense of camaraderie filled the room. Laughter, albeit tinged with exhaustion, erupted at the predictable plot twists and overly dramatic dialogue.

As the minutes ticked by, Percy and Annabeth succumbed to the fatigue of the day. Annabeth curled up by your side on her bed, but her eyelids eventually fluttered shut and her head lolled back against your shoulder. Percy managed to stay up for a little longer with Luke, but his snorting could easily be heard just ten minutes after.

Silence stretched between you and Luke, punctuated only by the rhythmic snores of Percy and the occasional sigh from Annabeth in her sleep. You glanced over at your friend, her head resting peacefully against your shoulder. Despite the discomfort of the shared bed and the dubious snacks, a sliver of normalcy felt oddly comforting.

Across from you, Luke mirrored your posture, leaning back against the headboard with his arms crossed. His gaze was fixed on the flickering television screen, but you knew his attention wasn't on the atrocious movie. He was lost in thought, a furrow etched between his brows.

There was tension in the air, a constant undercurrent simmering between you two. You didn't like each other, that much was certain. He was arrogant, self-serving, and his loyalty always seemed to have a price tag attached. Yet, a grudging respect had grown between you over the years. You both understood the weight of your responsibilities, the burden of protecting those younger, more innocent.

He cleared his throat, the sound sharp in the quiet room. "Hey, Per—" he began, his voice a low murmur.

“Hey” you called. Luke´s head snapped towards your direction. "He's been out for more than half an hour" you interjected softly, your voice barely above a whisper. "Don't wake him up."

Luke's head tilted to the side. Confusion flickered across his brown eyes before settling on a scowl. "What?" he hissed, barely louder than a whisper.

"Think about it" you countered, your voice a low murmur that wouldn't disturb the sleeping teens. "Percy's been snoring like a miniature thunderstorm for at least ten minutes. Annabeth wouldn't wake up even if a centaur stepped next to her right now. Waking them up would just cause a monster of a different kind."

You knew Luke understood. You weren't just talking about Percy's physical exhaustion. You were both keenly aware of the burden these young demigods carried. They craved normalcy as much as anyone, and these stolen moments of peaceful sleep, however fleeting, were a precious commodity. Watching them, so vulnerable and carefree in their slumber, filled you with a fierce protectiveness. The last thing you wanted to do was disrupt that.

Luke didn't reply, but his gaze mirrored your sentiments. A flicker of something akin to respect softened the harsh lines of his face. You weren't friends, not by any stretch of the imagination. Yet, you shared a common enemy and a common purpose – to protect those who couldn't protect themselves.

The silence stretched for a momento before he cleared his throat again, the sound sharp in the cramped room. "So," he drawled, his voice laced with a hint of resignation, "what do we do then?"

You sighed, frustration creeping into your voice. "Guess we're stuck sharing a room after all" you muttered, throwing your hands up in defeat. The idea was far from appealing.

Luke's face contorted in horror. He let out a theatrical whine that would rival any crying toddler. "Oh come on" he whined, stretching the word into several syllables. "Sharing a room with you? Talk about cruelty and punishment."

“Oh, just shut up” you whispered-yelled at him. “Trust me, I don´t wanna sleep next to you either. I´ll build up a wall of pillows before you can even start snoring”

There was a certain absurdity to the situation, being forced to share a room with your least favorite person. But beneath the surface, you both acknowledged the unspoken truth – the safety and well-being of Percy and Annabeth took precedence over any personal discomfort.

You both rose from your beds, a tense air crackling around you. Picking up your backpack, you hoisted it over your shoulder with a sigh. "Alright" you declared, marching towards the door. "Let's get this over with."

Luke followed, his movements mirroring yours. The walk down the cramped hallway was filled with an tension. Neither of you dared to speak. Reaching his door, Luke fumbled for the key, his irritation evident in his clumsiness. Finally, with a click, the door swung open, revealing a room identical to yours – basic, cramped, and thoroughly unappealing.

Stepping inside, you couldn't help but let out a groan. A single, double bed dominated the room, leaving absolutely no room for separate sleeping arrangements. God, why did Percy have to fall asleep? Why didn´t you and Annabeth pick this room earlier? Everything was going the wrong way for you. You exchanged a look with Luke, the message clear in your burning eyes.

"Snort or drool" Luke began, his voice a low growl as he pointed a finger at you "and I swear I'll throw you out the window"

"Hm, how charming" you replied sarcastically, stepping past him and into the room.

The bed loomed before you, a battleground for an uncomfortable night's sleep. With a sigh, you dropped your backpack onto the nearest chair. Luke began building a formidable fortress of pillows in the center of the bed. You rolled your eyes at the sight. This was so ridiculous.

A glance at your watch confirmed your suspicions. It was not too late to hop on quick shower. Percy and Luke walked down to the vending machine so quickly earlier that you didn´t even have time to wash yourself before they came to your room with the so called dinner. Your clothes clung to you uncomfortably, the grime of the day begging to be washed away. You looked for a clean shirt you were sure you packed before leaving camp days ago. The possibilites of a shower were low in missions like these, but you never knew.

Leaving your backpack open on the chair, you made your way to the bathroom door, silently pushing it open. Luke watched your movements for a fleeting moment, but quickly went back to his pillow fortification once your figure disappeared inside the small bathroom. He didn't think much of it at first. You were just getting ready for the night, whatever your methods.

Inside the bathroom, you began stripping off your clothes, the cool air a welcome sensation against your heated skin. In your state of exhaustion, you neglected to fully close the bathroom door. A foolish mistake, perhaps, but in your defense, the room was tiny and the it wouldn't be winning any awards for spaciousness. Right now, all you craved was a chance to scrub away the road dust and find a clean shirt for the —uncomfortable— night ahead.

A few seconds later, a muffled curse broke the silence on Luke´s side. Luke, realizing he'd left his toothbrush in the bathroom, stopped himself from the pillows task and approached the bathroom door. He was expecting it to be shut. A polite knock, a request for his forgotten toothbrush – that was the plan. But as he drew closer, his steps faltered. The door wasn't shut.

“Seriously!?”

There you stood, completely devoid of clothes except for your underwear, taking off your camp´s necklace and your earrings. The warm glow from the bathroom light accentuated the smooth lines of your shoulders and the curve of your back. Time seemed to freeze for a beat. Luke's breath hitched in his throat.

You whirled around, startled. A small laugh escaped your lips as you saw Luke's flustered expression. His cheeks were flushed a deep crimson, and his brown eyes darted around the room as if searching for an escape route.

"Didn't think you'd be so shy, Luke" It was a playful jab, a way to lighten the sudden tension that had filled the small space.

Luke sputtered, his voice barely even a regular tone. "Shy? I'm not-, I mean-…” he kept cutting himself off. “This-, don´t you know what privacy is!?"

His indignation was adorable, you couldn't help but think to yourself. You'd never seen him so flustered, so utterly out of sorts. A mischievous glint sparked in your eyes.

"Oh, come on" you countered, a playful smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "Don't tell me you've never seen a girl in this state before."

The question just didn´t have an asnwer. Luke's mouth clamped shut. His eyes widened for a moment, then darted back down to the floor, avoiding your gaze. There was a flicker of something in his eyes – a memory, perhaps, or a realization – but it vanished as quickly as it appeared.

The silence stretched, thick and awkward. You realized you had hit a nerve, a part of Luke you hadn't expected to expose, not in front of you. A pang of unexpected curiosity pricked at your insides. Just what kind of experiences had this arrogant, self-assured perfect golden boy had?

You opened your mouth to speak, to maybe apologize for your teasing, but Luke beat you to it.

"Just shower and get dressed, okay?" he mumbled, his voice tight with suppressed frustration. "I want to sleep."

He didn't wait for a reply, simply turning on his heel and retreating back to his pillow fort. You watched him go, a smile playing on your lips. The encounter had been unexpected, to say the least, but it had definitely shaken things up.

A low chuckle escaped your lips. "You'll wait for me?" you called out playfully, knowing full well he wouldn't answer.

"Shut up!" came his muffled reply from behind the pillows.

The silence in the cramped room was thick enough to spread. You emerged from the bathroom, a clean shirt clinging to your damp form and a towel wrapped around your head like a makeshift turban. You caught sight of Luke burrowed deep beneath the barricade of pillows, a picture of forced nonchalance. His eyes were resolutely fixed on the ceiling, but you could practically feel the heat radiating off him.

A mischievous glint flickered in your eyes. He might have gotten away with a verbal escape route earlier, but you weren't done yet. "Well, aren't you going to say something?" you queried, amusement dancing in your voice. "Speechless, Castellan? That's a first."

Luke remained stubbornly silent, his jaw clenched tight. He could feel the blush creeping back up his neck, a burning reminder of his moment of weakness. How was he supposed to act normal after seeing...well, after seeing more of you than he ever bargained for? The image of your smooth skin and the graceful curve of your back was burned into his memory, a stark contrast to the sarcastic warrior he knew.

You flopped down onto the bed, the makeshift wall of pillows separating you from Luke. You turned off the bedside lamp in silence before removing the towel off your hair, gently brushing it. The silence stretched on, broken only by the soft rustle of your brush. Just as you thought Luke had successfully retreated into a silent sulk, his voice broke through the tension.

"Look" he muttered, whispering "it was an accident. Just forget it, alright?"

You couldn't help but let out a soft chuckle. "Oh, come on" you teased, leaning back against the pillows. "Didn’t expect that seeing a little skin was such a big deal for someone like you."

Luke shot you a glare, but it lacked its usual bite. Someone like him? What the hell did you mean by that? Maybe it was the unexpectedness of it all, or maybe it was the way the dim light had cast your figure in a different light, one he hadn't noticed before. Whatever it was, it had thrown him completely off balance.

A sudden, and quite unwelcome, thought struck him. Just what kind of experiences had you had? He knew you weren't naive, or dumb. But the thought of you with someone else… the possessiveness that flared up within him surprised him. It wasn't jealousy, not exactly, but a strange sense he couldn't quite explain.

He pushed the thought aside, focusing on calming his racing heart. He needed sleep, not a philosophical debate about his feelings for his least favorite demigod. Just as he was about to drift off, your voice sliced through the silence, sharper than any blade.

"Are you a virgin, Luke?"

The question hung in the air, a verbal bombshell that shattered the fragile peace. Luke's eyes snapped open, wide with disbelief. Gods, you were bold. He stared at you in the dark, lifiting his head up just enough to peak from the pillows in between your boides, his mind struggling to process your words.

"What?" he finally managed, his voice husky with disbelief.

A faint blush crept up your cheeks, a stark contrast to the playful glint in your eyes. "You heard me" you countered.

Luke felt a surge of annoyance mixed with a strange vulnerability. He wasn't used to being caught off guard, especially not by you. He opened his mouth to retort, to deflect the question with his usual sarcastic wit, but the words wouldn't come.

His gaze drifted towards the wall, a silent battle raging within him. Should he answer your question honestly? The thought of revealing such a personal detail to you, his nemesis, was unappealing. But then again, a small part of him, the part he kept hidden away, craved a different kind of connection with you.

He took a deep breath, the decision made. "Does it matter?" he finally replied, his voice a low murmur.

You turned on your side, facing him across the wall of pillows, getting rid of some of them, dropping them to the carpeted floor. The moonlight filtering through the window cast an ethereal glow on your face, making your eyes seem to sparkle with mischief.

"Maybe it does" you said, your voice soft and laced with an undercurrent of something else - intrigue? Even in the darkness, you could see the way your words affected him, the way his dark eyes seemed to flicker with a mixture of emotions.

Luke opened his mouth to respond, but before he could get a word out, you cut him off with a laugh that seemed tinged with nervousness.

"Forget it" you said, shaking your head slightly. "Just... hormonal thoughts." The explanation felt flimsy, even to your own ears. This wasn't just idle curiosity; it was something deeper, something you couldn't quite explain yet.

Luke remained silent for a moment, your sudden change in direction throwing him off. Part of him was relieved you weren't pressing the issue, but another part, the part he usually kept suppressed, felt a flicker of disappointment. He wouldn't admit it, not even to himself, but he'd be lying if he said he hadn't found your boldness, your honesty, even your sudden vulnerability, strangely appealing.

"Hormonal thoughts, huh?" he finally echoed, his voice husky. "Does that mean you wanna have sex with me?" He dared to voice the possibility that you might be attracted to him. He must´ve been out of his mind.

The thought was simply impossible. Yet, the way your eyes sparkled in the moonlight, the way you'd turned towards him, discarding some of the pillows as if to bridge the gap…

"No!" you blurted out, as if reading his mind. The defensiveness in your voice surprised you both. "It's not that at all. It's just... I don't know." Frustration laced your words. This whole conversation was turning into a confusing mess. “Just… how far have you reached with a girl?”

Luke stared at you, dumbfounded. This night had taken a turn he hadn't anticipated. Why were you even talking about this? Why were you asking these questions? Why, despite the initial irritation, was he finding himself answering?

Heaving a sigh, he sat up against the headboard, exhaustion finally catching up to him. "Not too far, actually" he mumbled, the words laced with a weariness that surprised him. The words felt strange coming out of his mouth, a confession he wouldn't have made to anyone else. He hadn't meant to dwell on past experiences, especially not with you. He hadn't realized how much he'd carried on his shoulders, the weight of overlooked desires he never truly got to satisfy. Suddenly, the frustration in your voice clicked into place. Was that why you'd asked? Was it because you felt the same way, burdened by an unfulfilled yearning?

But as you shifted in your bed, suddenly sitting up on your knees, he couldn't help but notice the way your silhouette was illuminated by the moonlight. And then he saw it — the lack of shorts beneath your t-shirt, a detail he'd managed to conveniently overlook in the heat of the moment, which didn´t make sense at all.

"What are you—?" he began, the question dying on his lips as you moved closer. You began to dismantle the remaining wall of pillows, clearing the way between you.

His heart hammered against his ribs as you sat down on his lap, one leg on each side of him. You were close, closer than you'd ever been before. A mix of confusion and arousal that left him speechless. You stared at him, your eyes reflecting the soft moonlight, as your hands reached for his.

"Have you ever done this?" you asked, your voice gentle, devoid of the usual sarcasm you wielded like a weapon. You weren't mocking him, weren't trying to pry. This was a genuine question, a moment of surprising intimacy that neither of you could have predicted.

Luke stared at you, his mind reeling. His hands, usually quick and confident, felt heavy and clumsy under your touch. You guided them to hold steady of your thighs, even though you were not moving, not yet.

Luke had never been more confused in his life. His mind raced, searching for a coherent response, an appropriate action. Was this a trap? A test? 'What the hell?' his mind raced.

But as he looked into your eyes, searching for an explanation, all he saw was a reflection of his own thunderstorm. You were just as confused as he was, caught in a moment of unexpected intimacy.

Neither of you knew what to say, what to do next. This wasn't part of the plan. You were supposed to be enemies, rivals forced to share a cramped motel room.

You know, the classic shit.

But this wasn’t it. This was something strange that even though he hated to admit it, he didn’t want it to end yet.

So he trailed his hands higher. Higher, higher, higher. Then placed his hands on your hips. He was breathless, and a sudden feeling of dumbness filled his insides as he stared at you, reading you like a book; you were waiting. And he had no idea what to do.

But you surely did. A slight sway of your hips was all he needed to breath out the amount of air his chest was holding. Then another one, and another; each movement pressed deliciously against his cock, already hardened.

He let out a deep groan, teeth tightening and head falling back slightly.

You placed your hands around his shoulders, pulling him closer to you, almost chest to chest. Your hips kept rolling over him. If this felt good to him, it must’ve feel like heaven to you, due to your lack of lower clothes.

“You’re big, Luke” you whispered, a tiny smirk smudged along your lips. There it was. You again.

He thanked the darkness for hiding his red cheeks, but his state was not going to make him vulnerable again. He gripped your hips tighter, pulling at the top of your ass towards him over and over. “Fuck, just shut up for five minutes” he breathed out.

You didn’t answer. Your mouth hang open over his own. Your lips were dangerously close to touching, to kissing. But it was not gonna happen. As your hips rolled at a fast pace his breath tangled with yours, his moans, his groans, everything was swallowed by your own sounds.

He should feel embarrassed of behaving like this, not only because it is you but because he’s supposed to be in the middle of a mission. But come on, he knew this would happen soon or later.

All those years in which he secretly saved his feeling for himself. He had to hide the fact that whenever he touched your skin, whenever he felt your warm body against his hands, even the slightest and most teasing touch, a bolt of lighting went from the tip of his toes to his head.

He felt drunk in you in just a second and what, because he accidentally saw you almost naked?

He had to thank the gods for his luck.

“Oh, Luke” you moaned, head tilting back as you squeezed your eyes shut. Oh, he liked that.

He audibly chucked, laughed at you. “Who would’ve known?” he asked. “Who would’ve known you’d be so dirty, baby?”

Your eyes sparkled with fire, piercing Luke’s insides as the scar on his face twitched like every time he smiled. Despite the look on your face, your hips kept rolling over his; you couldn’t stop. It felt too good, too hot, too wet, even under Luke’s sweatpants.

“Don’t call me baby” you managed to blurt out, but the sound coming out of your mouth just made the whole sentence something pornographic. Luke didn’t complain.

You removed your hands from his neck. He was convinced you were gonna climb off of him and he would have to apologize repeatedly so he could finally get to cum with you on top of him; but instead, your hands travelled down his torso, and hid under his white shirt, pressing your palms onto his abs, pushing your own body harder against his.

“What should I call you then?” he whispered against your mouth, hands gripping impossibly tighter, finally gripping to your asscheeks. He had to hide a groan from the very back of his throat. “Bunny? ‘Cause you can’t deny you wanna hop on my cock?”

Now that was new.

If you were shocked, your face wouldn’t show it, but your body surely did. Your movements became sloppy, tired, and your chest moved up and down faster than ever. Luke rolled his own hips into yours, moaning uncontrollably at the feeling of his cock being constantly rubbed under your clothes pussy, and at the sight of the small wet patch you had on your underwear.

“Luke. I wanna cum” you moaned out. He liked that you didn’t warn you were going to, but you wanted to. As if you were asking for his permission.

“You won’t get off me until I cum, get it?”

He was a possessed man all of a sudden. His groans, growing deeper with every movement, his hands holding onto you for dear life and his breath twirling with yours as if you were the oxygen he needed to stay alive.

The tight feeling on your belly snapped as fast as you started to feel it. Yet you were obedient, so you kept moving.

The overstimulation was too much already, but when was gonna be the last time you would get to almost fuck Luke Castellan? Probably this time, you wouldn’t want to screw it up.

In fact, you wanted to do so much more. To suck his dick, to gag on it. To let him play with your body as much as he pleased and craved for. To let him take you anywhere and anytime he liked.

It didn’t take Luke long enough to hit his climax too, thankfully. His hips twitched against yours repeatedly as he placed his forehead on your chest. His breath was heavy as if he had run a million miles, his forehead sweaty.

Your hand reached his curls, smoothly running them down the back of his neck as if you were comforting him from the worst experience he had ever had. Little did you know this was his best so far.

“Do we-,” he cut himself off to swallow thickly. He didn’t realize how dry his throat was until he tried to speak. “Do we get to share rooms again?”

“What do you think?”

part two <3

[reidmotif]

Dialing up for Trouble

Summary: Reader and Spencer were fuck-buddies, until Spencer cuts her off quite suddenly. A party and some risque images may be enough to get them back to their old routine.

Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader

Category: Smut

Content Warning: semi-public sex, sexting, mentions of nude images and descriptions of generic lingerie, masturbation (f!receiving), penetrative sex, semi-dom!spencer

Word Count: 3.5 k

Masterlist

Clich��s bothered me. There was no other way to put it. I’d grown up hating the likes of love triangles, meet-cutes, chosen ones, and right now, I was being reminded more than ever of that hatred because, what the fuck? 

“Too much of a good thing” was the reasoning Spencer had cited when he proposed we stop sleeping together casually, and return to our previous relationship of  “just coworkers”. I’d let him know how ridiculous I found his sentiment, and attempted every possible method to continue our secret rendezvous, but he was absolutely dead-set on his decision, it seemed.

 No more sex. No more late-night calls. None of it. It was all over. All because of a cliche. 

We seemed to agree on one thing, and that was, yes. The sex was fantastic. It really was that good. While I’d never wish weariness on Spencer Reid, I couldn’t deny that in the aftermath of stress and frustration from whatever life had chosen for him, the way he’d deal with that was absolutely electrifying for me.

I’d find myself constantly breathless, pulled into hotel rooms, storage closets- anything resembling the barest hint of privacy, and allow him to use me as he saw fit. I gave him complete trust and control over my body, and in turn, he rewarded me with some incredibly life-changing orgasms. And for what it’s worth, he seemed to get an equal amount of satisfaction out of our hidden trysts, which only made his recent decision that more devastating.  

It’d been roughly a month since we’d had sex, or anything resembling the sort, and I found myself absolutely deprived. When the FBI gave out invitations to its semi-annual gala, I imagined the festivities would be enough to distract me, but I was completely in error for assuming so. Amidst drinks and conversations, there was the occasional lull where I couldn’t help but absentmindedly imagine the feel of his hands over my skin, squeezing the fat of my hips. His lips trailing up and down my neck, focusing on spots only he knew about. The way his hair would tickle against my thighs when he’d bury his head-

“Hey.” 

The voice breaks me out of my thoughts, and I have to remind myself not to choke on my beverage. There he was. The current subject of my thoughts, standing in front of me, live and in the flesh. Spencer Reid. 

“Hey.” I mirror back, taking a sip of my drink, acting as lax as I could, given the circumstances. “Enjoying yourself?” I ask, gesturing to the party in front of us, the general ambience. 

“You know me.” He replies, pausing for a second, keeping his gaze trained on mine. “Not my scene but.. doable.” 

I chuckle for a moment, understanding perfectly. Spencer wasn’t exactly the most social guy out there. I was honestly surprised he’d chosen to come to this thing at all in the first place. 

“You look nice.” He says, suddenly. “Your dress. It’s nice.” He rushes out the words, as if he’s scared to say them in the first place. 

I smooth down the fabric instinctively, nodding. I try not to let the compliment affect me so much, keeping my head down for a split second to hide the creeping heat emanating from my cheeks. 

 “Thank you. I appreciate it.” 

I surprise myself with my own answer. The silence for that tick is horrible. I appreciate it? Jesus. I couldn’t think of the right words anymore. The correct and witty response that would allow this conversation to flow smoothly. 

 I truly wanted to fuck this man so bad, it made me look stupid. 

And stupid I was, because yet again, I attempted to test the current parameters of our relationship he’d put us on. I swallow my pride, lifting my head to meet his eyes with mine. 

“If you like it so much, you could- you know. Take it off.” I say, biting my lip. There’s a light tease in my voice, but it’s obvious I’m being as forthcoming as I possibly could. No games. No jokes. I didn’t want to dance around it, and I hoped my boldness would reward me as it did previously in the past. 

But no, it seems that fortune does not favor the bold, because Spencer’s immediate response was to shake his head, lowering his voice. He pulled on my arm to decrease our proximity, to the point where it was ensured no passer-bys could possibly hear our conversation. 

“Come on.” He pleads, almost looking desperate.  “I told you we should stop- hasn’t that worked out? We can be coworkers. This works.”

I roll my eyes, letting my displeasure show plainly over my face. “This works?” I say, and the sarcasm is clear in my voice. “Sex worked too, you know.” 

“I know it did!” He says, in a hushed whisper. “But- we can’t. No. It’s not right. Too much of a-” 

“If you finish that sentence, I swear to god.” I say, my expression turning much more volatile. I forcibly shrug his arm off me. “This is stupid.” I continue, trying not to let my voice rise. “I see the way you look at me. I know it was good for both of us. I know you’re thinking about it just as much as I am, so why not!” There’s a hint of hurt in my voice as well. Underneath all the sex, I’d grown to miss the interactions after. The giggles under covers and the feel of his hair in my fingers. I missed him. All of him. 

There’s a miserable pause on his end, and I hold my breath waiting for his next words. Spencer sputters, looking absolutely defeated. “Because- because we just can’t, okay?” He replies, helplessly, stepping back from me, as I’d done with him. “Look. I’m just going to enjoy the rest of the party, okay? Take care of yourself, yeah?” 

Before I can get in another word, demanding a real explanation from the man, he leaves me alone, replaying the words of his confusing outburst in my mind. 

I take a short time to myself, electing to go use the restroom and take a breather from the party, a bit on edge after our exchange. Was it possible he was completely fine with what the loss of our arrangement had done to us? Was I the only one absolutely losing my mind? Any attempt to diverge my attention from the topic proved futile, and  I remained in the closed room, mindlessly adjusting myself in the mirror with no real rhyme or reason. There’s an eventual use of my phone, focusing the camera directly on my face to make sure nothing had smudged or looked off on my face in the time I’d last checked my makeup. In the use of the device, I remembered the pictures I’d taken before coming here. 

The pictures weren’t meant to serve any true purpose. I’d bought new lingerie for this dress, as my previous bras weren’t suited to the cut and shape of the specific piece of clothing, and decided to take a few pictures for myself. It was lacy, and pretty, but nothing truly special. The bra had a slight push-up effect, and the panties were a bit cheekier than my normal, day-to-day undergarments.  The actual lingerie was innocent- harmless, even. Looking at the images right now, though, a salacious idea creeped into my head. 

Under the right circumstances, these could be exactly the catalyst to finally receiving what I wanted. 

I open the messaging app on my phone, finding Spencer’s contact, and beginning to type out a simple message. 

hey. 

The response is immediate. 

What’s up? 

You good? 

Where’d you go? 

I laugh a little. I imagined him scanning the crowd for me, trying to figure out where I’d gone off to. 

all good, don’t worry

so we’re still sticking to the no sex thing? 

I see his typing bubble pop up, then pause. Then starts up again. 

Yes. 

Trust me, it’s for the better. 

I groan internally. Of course he thinks that. Always thinks he knows what’s good for everyone. 

trust me 

if you knew what i had planned for us

you wouldn’t say that

I feel my phone vibrate in my hand, indicating he was now calling me? I hadn’t planned for this. 

“Spencer?” I remark, waiting for his voice on the line. 

“What do you mean?” He says, quickly. I can no longer hear the bustle of the party in the background, so it’s only reasonable to assume he’s moved somewhere quieter. Still, I ask. 

“Are you around other people?” I murmur, keeping my voice low. 

“No. Alone. What did you mean by your last message?” He repeats, quickly. 

There’s my in. I respond, feigning an unmistakable innocence in my voice. “Mind if I show you?” 

“Show me?” The confusion in his voice is palpable. 

“Show you.” I reply, more definitively.  “Check your messages.” 

I bring my phone away from my ear, electing to send the first picture I saw in my camera roll,  which prominently featured my breasts- a feature of mine I knew Spencer was quite interested in. I return to the call, my heart pounding wildly. 

“Did you see?” I ask, hesitantly, when all I can hear is his breathing on the other line. 

The response is a choked out, breathy mess of a sentence. “Yeah- I did. Jesus.” 

“Want more?” I murmur, biting my lip as the realization dawned on me that this possibly had a chance of working. 

There’s a delay in his words on the line, before I finally hear:

“Yes. God, yes.” 

I grin ear-to-ear, beginning to send an assortment of pictures I’d taken previously in the day. Knowing this was having an effect on him, that somewhere in this party Spencer was sitting alone, his gaze trained on his phone intently, did something to me. He was behaving this way because of my body, because of what I could do to him. 

It was hard not to get wet at the thought. 

“You look so good.” He breathes out, and the desire in his voice is unmistakable. 

“Yeah?” I mumble to the speaker. “You think so?” 

“Mhm.” He murmurs. “You’re wearing this right now?” He asks, seemingly needing that confirmation at this moment.  

“In all its glory.” I try not to giggle before murmuring teasingly, “What, you wanna see?” 

“Where are you?” He asks, suddenly seeming very determined. I can hear the shuffling on the other line, indicating he was now starting to move from where he was currently situated. He was completely, and utterly serious about this. 

“Bathroom, on the left corridor of the entrance.” I say, feeling exhilarated at the thought of him meeting me here. This was happening. 

Finally. 

“Stay.” He replies, and the call cuts. 

There’s an impatient itch that creeps up on me during the two-minute wait for him, before I hear a solid knock on the door, and my name being whispered through the door, belonging to a voice I’d grown so accustomed to and fond of. 

My fingers undo the lock, opening it just enough so that he could squeeze through without drawing too much attention to ourselves right now. 

And as soon as he’s managed in, he’s practically on me, devouring me with a kiss with a passion I’d never felt from him before. My hands go to wrap around his neck, pressing our bodies flush against each other, every ragged breath of his shooting directly to my core, which was now throbbing with need. 

“Fuck. Missed this so much.” He breathes out, gasping for air in between our kisses. I couldn’t so much as get a whimper out, before he’d dive right in again. It’s like he wanted to eat me alive. 

And I’d let him. 

I moan softly into his mouth, starved for more contact between us. It’s as if he can read my mind, because in an instant,  he guides us from the center of the bathroom, towards a wall, slotting his thigh between my legs. He takes a momentary break from ravishing me with his lips, now adopting a slower, more sensual pace as he works down my neck, each soft kiss leaving me craving him even more.  

His hands drift down to my hips, keeping me pinned against the wall as he murmured soft praises. My legs felt wobbly, absolutely taken aback by how quickly I could go weak for this man. 

“You like this, mm?” He mumbles, letting his teeth nip over the lobe of my ear, before switching to a more neglected side of my neck. “Like me that much, mm?” 

I don’t care about the cockiness in his tone. I don’t care how smug I render him. I just need him to continue this, for as long as I can have him. 

“Yes.” I breathe out, my voice higher-pitched than it normally would be. “God. Love this so much.” 

There’s a flash of hesitance from him, as he pulls his face away from my neck, staring at my eyes with his own. I can’t dwell on the pause, because for once, I’m finally seeing him. His hair was absolutely ruined, sticking up wildly in different directions. His cheeks were a light pink, serving to make his features even prettier and doe-like than before. But what got me were his eyes. His pupils were blown out, the normal honey-hazel I’d seen on a daily basis replaced with an absolute abyss of black. The darkness served to cause a surge within me, practically launching forward to meet his lips with mine. 

There are no words required for what happens next, as I feel his hand creep up my back, pulling me away from the wall and towards the closest surface, which happened to be the sink. He guides me to bend over, and I do so with no resistance.

 He could have me, whichever way he wanted, whenever he wanted. All I needed was his touch. 

I can feel him crouch to his knees, slowly reaching under my dress to hook his fingers around my panties, slowly pulling them down. I can feel a string of my arousal clinging to the fabric, and it seems Spencer can too, because he practically moans as he drags the soiled piece of lingerie down my thighs. I step out of them quickly, and turn my head back, fast enough to see him stuff the proof of our debauchery down his suit pocket. 

“Eyes ahead.” He whispers, leaning down close to my ear to nip at the sensitive flesh again. 

“Okay.” I murmur, slipping into a more submissive version of myself that he seemed to bring out in me. There’s a sense of relaxation and excitement all at the same time, and I’m absolutely wracked with lust for him. 

His fingers stroke my clit for a moment, applying pressure in just the right way. The movements are practiced, precise and guaranteed to hurl me off the edge if he continues this way. 

“You’re soaked, sweetheart.” He murmurs, almost amazed,  letting his fingers slip away. “All this for me?” 

I can barely respond, whimpering and nodding. “Yes. Please- Spencer.” I beg, needily. 

“I know, I know.” He replies, and I can hear how pleased he is. There’s a certain delight he derives from my submission, and while in any other circumstance, the smugness he displays would turn me off, right now it only served to further my hunger. 

I can feel him start to work on his belt, sliding the coarse material of his dress pants just enough, so that his cock could spring free. I can’t see it, but I can feel it, his tip sliding through my folds, and I clench at the thought of him finally being inside of me. 

Just when I believed his teasing to be done, there’s a knock at the door, and we both freeze. Spencer swallows, and quickly raises his voice. “Occupied!” 

There’s silence, and that previous sense of lust and content drifts back into our bodies, Spencer’s fingers trace up to my face, and he lets his finger slip into my mouth. I can taste my arousal on his fingers, and there’s a genuine struggle on my end to stay upright. How could I, when the man behind me rendered me so indisposed? 

He draws his fingers out of my mouth. “Good girl.” He whispers.

It seems the universe has other plans though, because yet again- a knock sounds at the door. I can hear Spencer’s groan, and watch through the mirror as he attempts to come up with a response that would give us the seclusion we required. 

My patience however, had worn thin. His cock was right there, and I’d be damned if I was forced to wait any longer. I turn my head towards the door, complacency and submission gone from my voice. 

“Do you mind? I’m trying to fuck him in here!” I say, snarking out the words. 

There’s a silence, and a murmur of mortification on the other side of the door. Footsteps. And then at last, silence. 

Spencer quickly leans down to kiss my cheek, mumbling out an “I love you.” 

Before I can even comprehend the words, he’s guiding himself into me, sliding his cock through my walls, and I have to bite my lip to keep a scream in. He feels so fucking good inside of me, stretching me out in ways no man ever could. I can feel the underside of his cock hitting that spongy spot deep inside of me, and my breathing turns rapid in mere seconds. 

“There we go, relax for me baby, yeah?” He mumbles. “Nice and slow.” 

I moan out my affirmative, gripping onto the sink as I let my jaw drop, eyes squeezing in absolute ecstasy. “So good for me.” He murmurs. “So warm and wet, Jesus.” 

And with that, he starts a pace that works for both of us. It’s hard and fast, but I wouldn’t have it any other way. The feel of his cock gliding through my puffy walls is intoxicating, and I can only wonder how I went so long without feeling it. 

It seems Spencer’s having similar  thoughts, because through my moans and his occasional groans, I can feel his grip on my hips get more bruising by the second, marking me as his own. I can hear occasional fragments of words through his noises. 

“Never letting you go. Oh fuck. Fuck.” He mumbles, and despite the overwhelming amount of arousal shooting through me, my heart swells. 

“Me too.” I whimper out, gripping the sink even harder. I can feel my wetness seeping all around us, splashing against my thighs with every movement he drives into me. “Need you so badly.” 

“Rub your clit for me.” He demands, whispering out the words. “Need to see you come on my cock first, pretty girl.” The words are strained, and I can tell he’s doing everything to keep from spilling inside of me prematurely. 

There’s no reason to temporize, and my fingers make their way down to the sensitive bundle of nerves, and the effect is almost immediate. It takes roughly a minute of my incessant rubbing and the feel of him inside me before I’m coming with a soft shout, growing limp against the sink as my muscles twitch and fill me with a deep sense of relief and satisfaction. 

Spencer isn’t far behind me, humping into me a few more times before coming inside of me, the release signified with a loud moan and a sense of warmth flooding my deepest point. He slumps against my back, pressing a few, soft kisses to my neck. 

As we both come down from our highs, I recall the words Spencer mumbled in my ear previously. I let out a self-satisfied giggle, which Spencer smiles at. 

“Mm. What’s that about?” He murmurs. 

“You love me?” I ask, softly. 

A pause. 

“A little.” He responds, voice equally as soft. 

“Is that why you stopped having sex with me?” I mumble out, gently. 

He presses another kiss to the nape of my neck. “Mhm. Please don’t be mad.” 

I let out a soft chuckle. “Not mad. The opposite, really.” 

He pulls me up, causing us both to look at each other. “You feel the same way?” 

I nod, biting my lip. “We could try this out, I think. I want to, Spencer.” 

I stop, and decide I do need to tease him a bit, especially after the sex-less agony he put me through for a month. 

“Though, I do recall someone telling me too much of a good thing can go bad..” 

His lips part in confusion, before he picks up the teasing nature of my words and leans in for a soft, simple kiss. He keeps his forehead on mind, his eyes staring into mine with a gentle reverence. 

“Let’s indulge just this once.” 

holy shit has it been a long time since i've written a fic!! i'm so sorry?! i've been dealing with life and other assorted things and writing sort of took a backseat in that period of time <3 i hope this was okay. as usual any feedback, likes, comments, reblogs are so so greatly appreciated. i love writing for spencer, and i hope you guys like that writing too <3 i'm sorry that the two previous fics i promised seem to be delayed, i swear i'm gonna write those next, but inspiration sort of just struck on my end f or this, and i hope it was good <3 but yeah!! thank you so much for reading and interacting with this in any way you choose!! i appreciate it greatly!!

[roosterforme]

Aim for the Sky Part 23 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley is hoping a new role with the Navy will give him the opportunity to spend more time at home with his family. You offer up the ultimate gift for his birthday. 

Warnings: Fluff, angst, adult language, lactation kink, body image, oral sex, mentions anal, DILF Roo

Length: 4500 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Aim for the Sky masterlist. This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order.

"What should we do for Daddy's birthday?" you asked your daughter while she nursed. Bradley was working late again. If he didn't actually get this new position at Top Gun when the time arrived, you weren't sure how he was going to take it. He was working so hard right now to try to cut his deployments down by training younger recruits to fly missions instead of actually flying all of them himself. He wanted to be home more, and you wanted him to spend as much time with Rose as he could.

In the meantime, he always felt like a ticking time bomb. Like at any moment he would be taken away again. His most recent special mission ended months ago while you were still pregnant, and it felt surreal at times that he hadn't been called away again.

"We'll do something special," you whispered to Rose. "Daddy always makes my birthday special. He'll always make yours special, too."

Her eyes were bright and alert as she released herself from your breast to yawn while you ran the pad of your thumb gently along her cheek. She had the softest skin and most adorable features. She was going to look just like Bradley, you could already tell. And you had to agree with him when he said he thought she was whip-smart. She always looked around for Tramp and seemed to point to him when she wanted to be licked.

"You're absolutely perfect," you told her, planting a soft kiss on her forehead. Rose's yawns were coming more frequently as you changed her diaper and placed her in her crib. "I'll send Daddy in to say goodnight when he gets home," you promised. Once her sound machine was playing a lullaby, you crept out of the nursery and went to clean up the meager dinner you made for yourself.

Looking in the mirror was still currently your least favorite activity. You were tired, and it was reflected on your face. Your body still seemed to belong to Rose, and you felt a little helpless by the width of your hips and the size of your butt. Your belly was riddled with stretch marks, and every time Bradley saw you in any manner of undress, you couldn't understand how he could get turned on. When you and he had sex, it was almost like he tricked you into believing he was excited to be with you.

The front door shut and you jumped, spinning on the spot to see your husband heading your way. "What a fucking day," he groaned, boots squeaking on the floor. He was still in his flight suit, messy hair threaded with a bit of gray. "I didn't think I would be this late."

He didn't stop until you were wrapped up in his arms. "Why are you still in your boots and flight suit?"

"Wanted to get home faster," he murmured. "I missed you."

The way he ran his big hand down the middle of your back and gave your butt a little squeeze while he kissed you left you breathless. Then he knocked the air clean out of your lungs as he nibbled gently on your lips before whispering, "I'm late for my husband and daddy duties. Is the Nugget already asleep?"

"I think so," you told him, melting into his touch. He was already the best dad in the world for Rose, and his hands up the back of his ratty UVA shirt that you were wearing reminded you how good he was at those husband duties, too. "She seemed tired after I fed her."

Bradley's brown eyes flicked down toward your chest as his stomach growled.

"I can feed you, too," you said with a laugh. "All I had for dinner was some toast and jelly, but I can make you something else."

You didn't even mention the part where you were trying to cut calories so you could lose weight, because he was looking at you like he always did. And his hands were warm on your skin like they always were.

"Don't worry about me. I'll get something after I give Rose a good night kiss and we take a shower together."

You raised one eyebrow. "We're taking a shower together?"

He nodded slowly. "We are, Baby Girl. I'm so worn out, it's probably the only thing that's going to make me feel better." 

His right hand strayed to your breast, and your lips parted on a soft sound as his rough fingers found your nipple beneath the shirt. You forgot to feel self conscious as you let your hands slide up his chest until your arms were draped over his shoulders. Your lips were on his like a magnet, and you whimpered at the feel of his rough mustache. Then his tongue was in your mouth, and you were ready to climb him like a tree.

Somehow, you worked him up. It didn't make any sense. He was literally touching your stretch marks now as he rutted against you and grunted your name. "Oh, fuck," he said between kisses. You felt overstimulated, and your breasts were leaking onto your shirt, but it just made his cock harder. "Go get in the shower? I need to take a little peek at Rose, and then I'll be in to do absolutely anything you want. Anything." He started to pull your shirt over your head. "Just let me taste you."

"Jesus Christ, Roo," you moaned, pushing him away. "Hurry up. I'll be in the bathroom."

--------------------------------

Bradley ducked his head inside the baby's nursery. Her music was playing softly, and she was clearly sound asleep in her crib with Tramp snoozing on the floor. He had to take a few deep breaths when he heard the shower turn on across the hallway, and he ran his hand over his face.

"Rosie, I'll be back in a little bit to check on you, okay?" he whispered. "I need Mommy for a few minutes."

He was already unzipping his flight suit and wrenching it down his arms as he walked through the bedroom and into the bathroom. It smelled like your body wash, and he could practically taste your breast milk as he watched you climb in the shower. He was tired, like actually exhausted. There was so much to learn from Maverick and the admirals. There was paperwork and guidelines and things to memorize. There was so much more going on behind the scenes than he realized, and it took all of his focus to keep up. But he wanted a job where he'd be home more and on a carrier less. That way he could see your silhouette through the foggy glass shower door every night.

"Sweetheart." His voice was deep and needy, and you turned to face him.

"What was fast." Your voice echoed beautifully in the enclosed space as he bent to undo his boot laces. 

"I'll sneak back in later to see Rose," he rasped, climbing in and closing the door behind him. "I can't wait another minute for you."

He was serious, but you looked a little hesitant and maybe unconvinced as you stood with your back against the tile wall, water hitting your legs and feet. You were rounder in places now, and your body felt like heaven in the palms of his hand. When he considered whether or not an obnoxiously long, hard day of work was worth it, all he had to do was look at your face or hear your voice, and he was convinced it was. But getting to have you like this? It didn't even seem fair.

"My god, you are absolutely fucking perfect."

Maybe you were going to say something to him as you parted your lips, but he leaned in to kiss you before you could. Your warmth and your fingers in his hair could fix any problem he had, he was certain. And he always wanted to be that way for you, too. He wanted to be the reason you knew you had something better to look forward to at the end of the day.

"Bradley," you whined when his cock pressed against your soft belly. Your fingers made their way down to his biceps, and your thumb traced his new tattoo as you looked up at him with wide eyes.

The level of intimacy he felt with you was unparalleled, whether it was sex or just being around you. But he couldn't help but want everything right now when your milk was beading up on your nipples and sliding down the undersides of your tits.

"Will you let me taste you?"

The feral noise you made had him bending slightly to get his mouth on you. None of this should be wasted right now. It was too sweet. You were too fucking warm. Even the steamy air and the water hitting his calves couldn't compete with your breasts. He got down on his knees for better access.

"I'm not going to lie, Roo," you whispered, pushing his hair back from his forehead, "watching you do that is so hot."

He looked up at you as he ran his tongue lazily back and forth. "Watching you do anything is hot, Sweetheart." You whimpered, and he could feel you squeeze your thighs together. "Just be patient. I'll take care of it. I just can't let this go to waste."

You grabbed at his hair and his shoulders as he licked and sucked you dry. Your nipples were furled tight, no longer dripping with that beautiful milk before he stopped. Every time you made a noise, you were rubbing your pussy against him, and Bradley knew he made you wait long enough. 

His cock was aching as he sat down and ran his nose along the length of your slit, coaxing your thighs apart with the softest touch. You didn't disappoint, letting him see and smell and taste you to his heart's content. He sucked on your clit before moving his lips to your rooster tattoo, smiling as you moaned impatiently while he kissed you there.

"Please, Bradley." Your voice took on a tone of overstimulation, nipples still tight peaks as you wiggled your hips. "I need it."

He let you have his mouth all over your pussy. Every soaking wet, silky inch if you. He worked his tongue in circles just how he knew you liked it, and he listened to every cue you gave him with your voice. The louder you got, the harder he sucked until your legs shook. Then he backed off and enjoyed the keening sound of your orgasm as you rode his face.

"Please," he begged softly, getting to his feet while you were still coming for him. But you nodded and turned to face the wall, letting him fuck you from behind with both of his hands planted on the tiles. "Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck, Sweetheart!"

Barely a dozen good thrusts, and he came as he watched you kiss his hand. He was out of breath and yet still over excited as he nuzzled your neck. "My wife is actually perfect," he whispered.

Even cleaning you up was fun. Every time he ran his hand between your legs, your eyes fluttered closed, and you bit your lip. Then you washed his hair which always turned him into an even bigger mess for you. By the time you turned off the water, he was so sated and still needy for your attention, he followed you everywhere.

Bradley watched you get changed into pajamas before pulling you into bed with him. "I still need to make you dinner," you whispered as he peppered your nose with kisses. 

"I can find something myself," he promised. "It's pretty late, and I want you to get enough sleep. I need to go check on the Nugget anyway." He paused when your stomach growled loudly. "What do you want? I'll make something for both of us."

"I already had dinner."

"You had toast. That's not dinner. What do you want?"

You looked up at him and whispered, "A sandwich."

"Done." He kissed your lips and climbed out of bed, pulling on clean boxer briefs. "Give me a five minute head start so I can kiss Rosie, and I'll meet you in the kitchen."

Bradley had to fight the urge to wake his daughter up just to watch her be adorable while he held her, because he felt like he missed the entire day with her. "Still better than being deployed," he whispered, making Tramp leave the nursery with him. 

He sent the dog out to the backyard as he tried not to worry about when his next mission might come. Then he made two identical sandwiches and opened a bag of potato chips and a can of beer. And then you were there with him again.

"What do you want to do for your birthday on Friday?" you asked, tucking yourself against his body as you reached for one of the sandwiches. "And don't you dare say you want to spend a day with just the three of us and try to bail to get another tattoo."

He kissed your temple and said, "Nothing else is important enough for me to want to get it tattooed besides you and Rosie, so what I'm about to say is the absolute truth. As soon as we get out of work on Friday, all I want to do is spend the evening with my girls."

"Well, I was thinking...." you started, nibbling at your sandwich. "You know how for my birthday, you reserved the lounge where we went to the silent disco? But then I fell at work and kind of killed that plan?"

"How could I forget?" he replied, downing the rest of his beer. "Reenacting our first date is never going to not be fun for me. Music and hot sauce and falling the fuck in love."

You smiled up at him. "What if I call the bar and see if they'll let us have a little silent disco with Rosie on Friday night? To make up for the one we missed?"

Bradley swore his heart skipped a beat. "I would love that, Baby Girl."

"Then I'll try to make it happen."

--------------------------

Bradley woke up on Friday morning with your hand wrapped around his cock and your giggling lips next to his ear. "Happy birthday, Roo," you whispered. Your breath was warm and tickled him as he opened his eyes and grunted.

"It's already pretty happy."

He pulled down the covers and watched you jerk him off while your bare breasts were mashed against him. There was a pretty droplet of your milk in his chest hair, and you were telling him all the things you wanted to do to him later. Even when you really gripped him, your fingers didn't quite reach all the way around his cock, and he tucked his arm behind his head to get a better view.

"I was thinking," you whispered, lips brushing his ear, "we could do what we did last year on your birthday. If you want."

Instantly he envisioned the way you let him fuck you in the ass, and he gasped. "Anal?" he asked softly, holding his breath for the answer as you dragged your hand up to the tip of his cock and squeezed.

"Yes."

He instantly came all over himself, white ribbons coating his abs as you kissed his neck. "Fuuuuck," he croaked, already excited for later tonight.

"Damn, Roo. You couldn't even wait until I got my mouth down there?"

He tucked his other arm behind his head as well and watched you kiss your way down his body. "You just promised me your ass, Sweetheart. I don't know what you expected." He went silent again as you ran your tongue around his belly button and started lapping up his cum. You had him on your lips, dragging your tongue through the mess when Rose started crying in her nursery. "Hang on, Nugget! Daddy's enjoying his birthday!"

You smiled up at him and kissed his hip before nudging him toward the edge of the bed. "Go get her ready, and I'll be in shortly."

He leaned down and kissed you before pulling on his underwear and heading to the nursery. He actually loved it when Rose started wailing like this, because he got to enjoy the way she immediately calmed down when he picked her up and gave her a little snuggle.

"You're loud today. Are you saying happy birthday?" he asked, tickling her tummy before changing her wet diaper. She was three months old and absolutely perfect. She could hold her head up on her own, and her eyes seemed to be a slightly different color every day. Bradley was fascinated by his daughter and would have gladly spent the entire day hanging out with her instead of going to work.

He was bouncing her gently in his arms, turning her hunger cries into little giggles when you joined them. "Is she ready for the silent disco tonight?" you asked, settling into the glider chair with your tits on display. He couldn't wait to get you in bed again later, but he was just as excited about going to Del Mar.

"I think so," he crooned, covering his daughter's face in kisses before handing her over so she could eat. "I love you both." Then he kissed her fuzzy hair and your lips before heading back down the hallway to get dressed for work.

Dropping Rose off at the daycare on base every day was still hard, but at least she was with Jeremiah. And Bradley was planning on skipping out early today to take her home and get ready to go out. Not only had you talked the rooftop bar into an hour-long private silent disco, you also made a reservation at the hot sauce restaurant. He was convinced Rose would love both places as much as he did.

As soon as he walked out onto the tarmac, he felt an arm around his shoulders. "Happy birthday, Soul Sister. I can't believe you're forty-eight."

"I'm thirty-eight, Nat."

"Whatever. Still old as fuck."

"I love you, too."

She smirked. "Are you enjoying your new job? All locked away with the admirals up in the tower like you're Rapunzel or something?"

Bradley stopped and swiped a hand along his back. "Did someone tape a sign on me that says It's my birthday, please pick on me?"

"Nah," she replied. "Doesn't need to be your birthday for that. Happy to do it any day of the year."

He followed along at her side again. "I don't actually have a new position yet," he muttered. "I'm just... I don't like being away from them now. It was bad enough before, but I think if someone gave me deployment papers today, I'd probably throw up."

"You're such a dad," his best friend replied, reaching for his hand and giving him a squeeze. "I completely understand why you want to turn into Rapunzel in the tower, Rooster. I probably would as well if I had a daughter. Speaking of, let me know when I can stop by with all the new toys and outfits I got for my goddaughter."

Bradley's imagination drifted to the bedroom activity he was looking forward to later this evening. "Uh, maybe tomorrow or Sunday? Not tonight."

"You got it."

-----------------------------------

The ride to Del Mar was familiar now. Bradley's Motown playlist filled the interior of the blue Bronco along with his voice while he drove and played with your wedding rings. The late June sunlight was bright and warm even as it approached 6:30, and you could tell by how relaxed your husband was that he was having a good day.

"I can't believe you're thirty-eight years old."

He gave you side eye. "Listen, Sweetheart, I've still got all the moves, okay? I was just excited this morning, that's all."

You burst into laughter. "That's not what I meant!"

With a playful glare, he parallel parked in front of the hot sauce restaurant. "I feel like you're contractually obligated to be nice to me today, especially after how much Nat picked on me."

You kissed his cheek and whispered, "I'm letting you have my ass. How much nicer could I possibly get."

"Great. Now I have to get my erection under control," he groaned, killing the engine and letting his head tip back. But he was smiling. "I actually think that makes you the nicest."

Honestly, you were a bit nervous. Last year, he barely thrusted before he came, and it still felt like you were being stretched to your limit. More than anything, you wanted him to still find pleasure in your body, but you didn't want him to hurt you.

As if you'd spoken your thoughts out loud, he whispered in your ear, "I'll make it feel good for you, too." Then he was out on the sidewalk, lifting Rose in her car carrier out of the backseat like the most attentive father in the world. She was wearing a little dress covered in flowers. You were also wearing a dress with your boat shoes. "Just look at my beautiful girls," he crooned, draping his right arm over your shoulders and carrying the car seat like it was nothing.

"I can't wait until she's old enough to enjoy some hot sauce," you mused.

"Her first solid food can be a chili pepper."

You snorted. "Rose, I will not let that happen."

You spent dinner coating your food in a rainbow of different hot sauces while Bradley stole bites of your meal and offered up some of his own. Rose kept trying to reach for the bottles with all of the pretty labels, and you watched her cry until Bradley let her play with a plastic one that was brand new and still sealed up tight. 

"She's your fucking kid, alright. Won't leave the restaurant without some hot sauce," he told you, signaling for the waiter to add it onto the bill at the end of the meal.

"Stop swearing in front of the baby." You were unable to contain your laughter as you added, "She picked out a good one, too. Excellent taste."

Bradley reached for your hand. "Now to determine if she has good taste in music, too."

After stopping back at the Bronco so Bradley could strap Rose in her carrier against his chest, the three of you walked at a leisurely pace along the main street toward the beachfront lounge. When you approached the pier where you spent plenty of time getting to know each other on your first date, Bradley turned so Rose could look at the setting sun.

"You see that long fishing pier, Nugget?" he murmured, smiling at you. "I took Mommy on the best date of her life, and we made out on that pier until I was on the verge of embarrassing myself."

"Accurate," you added immediately. "It was the best date of my life, but there was nothing you could have done to embarrass yourself."

"I beg to differ. I could have told you I loved you. On our first date."

His eyes were sincere. You knew he fell in love with you fast. He'd already told you as much. But hearing him say the words while he had his big hand wrapped around yours and Rose cradled to his chest left you breathless. "When you tell me now that you were already in love with me on our first date, it's just romantic, Roo."

His smile grew, and you thought all about how much had changed in the past three years as you led him toward the lounge which was lit with string lights. You rode the elevator to the rooftop with your head resting on his shoulder, face to face with your sleepy daughter. She had her little fist up next to her face, rubbing her eye.

"She's going to fall asleep, Roo."

"Nah, she'll last for a few songs. I want a picture of her wearing the headphones."

You forgot how pretty the rooftop was with all the lights and the bar. This time, instead of two sets of headphones, you were handed three, and the woman who was working made a fuss over how cute Rose was.

"I swear she looks just like my wife," Bradley said, showing her off proudly.

The other woman smiled and said, "You have an hour before we open to the public for the night. The DJ will start playing as soon as you're ready."

"Perfect," you told her, and then she was gone, and your husband was giving the DJ a thumbs up. You slid your headphones into place and turned them on to the pink channel. Once Bradley had his on, you changed his channel to match yours and laughed when one of his Motown songs came on.

"Yes," he said with a grin, lowering the volume all the way on the third pair before putting them on Rose. They were of course huge, and he had to hold them in place with one hand, but she smiled when she heard the song. "She likes it!"

"Of course she does. She's your daughter," you said over the music.

Bradley's lips landed on yours, and his free hand gently wrapped around the back of your neck. You stayed like that with Rose between you, getting kiss after kiss from your husband as you danced, occasionally changing the channel on your headphones to blue or green.

The DJ seemed to know what Bradley was going to like best, his face lighting up for almost every song like he was delighted to get to hear it. Rose, on the other hand, was asleep after ten minutes with her cheek squished against him. At least you managed to take one selfie of the three of you before her eyes closed, but now she was napping while you danced and lip synced with Bradley until the music came to a stop. The hour was too short. You wanted it to last longer.

Carefully, you removed Rose's headphones and then your own, handing them over on your way back to the elevator. "Time to go home and get your cake and birthday presents," you whispered as you were taken back down to the first level.

His hand settled on your lower back before drifting down a few inches more. His expression was completely serious as he said, "Baby Girl, I thought this cake was my birthday present."

"If you play your cards right, you can have two kinds of cake tonight."

------------------------------

Bradley is so ridiculously spoiled. Sweet Rosie already likes hot sauce. BG is struggling so much and can't quite see herself the way her husband does. Stay tuned. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 24

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[7seas-of-ryy]

I Need You | Part 5

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8

Author’s Note: *F/C = your fav color* I'm enjoying writing this so much that I've been writing in ALL of my free time!! :) Have more parts started already so hopefully I won't keep you all waiting too long!

Summary: Maybe if you pretend to be alright, then it will be?

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Warnings: angst, mentions scars, let me know if I need to add any others :)

The next morning you woke up determined. You would prove to everyone that you were ok. But first, you would need to get out of bed, bathe, and then get dressed... all on your own.

You slowly dragged yourself out of bed, your bones creaking from the lack of movement for so long. Madja may have healed you but you could still feel a lot of the pain. And there were large welts over your body where the deepest cuts had been. You would have some pretty nasty scars soon.

It took way too long to get up and walk towards the bath. You might never make it down to the group if you don't get dressed and go right now. So opting out of bathing, which may have not been the best idea, you grabbed some clothes instead. You got dressed in what you would normally wear. Because you needed everything to be normal.

You slipped a nice F/C dress on, brushed down your hair and braided it back. You walked over to the mirror in your room to check yourself over and that's when you really saw the marks covering your arms.

You gasped and ran your fingers over each mark. Air seems to vanish from your lungs and tears sprang to your eyes. No. You grabbed a hold of that feeling and shoved it deep down inside of you. You would not break.

You heard a creak and whipped your head around to see the shadowsinger standing there. You don't know how long he was there but you knew he made the noise on purpose to make himself known. You watched as his eyes moved along your arms, surely he was disgusted with you.

"Y/N-" He started

"Stop" You interrupted him

He cleared his throat, then waited a minute, "I uh came to see if you needed anything, I can bring you some food" the male gently spoke

"No thank you, I'll be joining you all today. I'll be down in a minute" you gave him a smile, hoping he would buy it.

He eyed you suspiciously but didn't push any further and left your room.

Grabbing a sweater to cover up as many of the marks as you could, you began downstairs. The stairs were just another challenge you needed to get through. You managed to make it down one deep breath at a time.

Before you entered the kitchen, you forced a smile on your face. Walking to grab some coffee, you could feel all eyes on you. Azriel, Cassian, Rhys, Feyre, Mor, Nesta, Elain, Amren, and even Lucien were all watching your every move.

"You got yourself dressed and came down on your own." Rhys stated simply

"I am not a child. I know how to clothe myself," You snapped at him, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean it... I just..."

"Y/N I found the most interesting book on the history of the Day Court but it appears to be in one of their old languages. I was wondering if you could help me translate it?" Lucien asked

You felt grateful to the male for changing the subject.

"Yes, I would love to help" you were happy to have something to focus on

You didn't notice Azriel looking between you and Lucien, softly glaring at the male.

As you went to sit at the table, you stumbled slightly, a sharp pain shooting up your leg. Everyone jumped up to help you.

"I'm fine, just tripped on my dress. Seriously, I promise" you gave a small smile to them all as you sat at the table.

You could feel a small shadow wrapping around your ankle and climbing your leg exactly where the pain had been. You smiled softly at the comfort, then remembered that you didn't mean enough to him for him to even show up. A scowl quickly overtook your face and you shooed the shadow away.

Conversation started amongst everyone. You were sat next to Nesta, who started telling you about her most recent smutty book she had read. At least she was treating you like everything was normal.

Besides the fact that you could barely look at Az, you wanted to forgive him. You wanted to take his guilt away but that was a lot harder than it seemed. Avoiding him seemed to be the best option for now.

Eventually everyone started heading off to whatever work they had to accomplish that day. Azriel took off in search of any answers. You, Rhy, Cass, and Lucien were left at the table.

"Until we can figure out why this happened to you, we think its best you stay here, where you're safe" Rhys said

"I will stay with you and we can do research from the house so you'll still be helping" Lucien added

You were about to reluctantly agree, knowing your limits, when Azriel's shadows started to appear and their master not too far behind.

"Eris is here" he said coldly

"Bring him in and be nice. He's the reason y/n is alive." Rhys replied

The spymaster returned quickly with Eris.

"Y/n I had no idea that was going to happen, I need you all to believe that." Eris started out

"Why have you been ignoring our requests to meet?" Rhys countered

"I was trying to figure out what was going on, just like you. These past few days have been rough. I couldn't just go around asking questions, it would raise suspicion... But, I figured out why they attacked and kidnapped her." the autumn court male stated

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[frankenstein-ate-my-left-shoe]

@steddie-spooktober day 24: pumpkin | G | 655

“Ope, here he comes,” Robin says, glancing up out the front window of Family Video.

“Wonder what it’s gonna be this time.” Steve sighs, stacking one last tape on the counter before abandoning the task to focus on the incoming metalhead.

“What’s what gonna be?” Dustin asks, looking between the two older teens.

“Eddie’s taken it upon himself to give us a greeting every time he comes in recently.” Robin explains, watching Eddie’s attempts to fix his atrocious parking job.

“Okay, and?”

“It’s been getting more and more ridiculous each time.”

“...Okay…?”

Robin starts to explain, telling Dustin about a couple of notable visits Eddie’s made since the world almost ended.

-

“Merrily met, Lord and Lady Buckley of the great town of Famally Vidu!”

“...I’m ‘Lord’, I call it.”

“You can’t be Lord!”

“I can be whatever I want to be, It’s my last name!”

-

“Hey Stevie, what’s a beauty like you doing in a place like this all alone?”

Steve had just blinked at him, “I work here.”

“And he’s not alone!” Robin calls from where she was crouched behind a nearby shelf.

-

“Good morning Pumpkin,” (“He said this directly to Steve, mind you.” Robin says.)

“Eddie, it’s 3 in the afternoon.”

-

“Hola Querido, Querid-ess.”

“What does that even mean?”

“Eddie, that’s not how Spanish works.”

“‘S how it does in my household, Bobin.”

“Someone tell me what queer-eedo means!”

“It means asshole.” Eddie says quickly, face tinging pink.

-

Steve thinks back on all these, and from what he can remember about that last one (and the shade of red Eddie’s face had turned), he doesn’t think Querido means what Eddie said it did.

“I think he’s been flirting with me.” Steve says, cutting between their conversation, still staring at Eddie in his van. He’s checking his teeth in the rear-view mirror now.

“Yeah, okay, Eddie was flirting with you.” Dustin scoffs.

“No, he was.” Robin says, leaning back on the counter.

“Steve, just ‘cause you had good hair in high school doesn’t mean that everyone’s always flirting with you. And no he wasn’t.” he says, directing this last at Robin.

“Would it be so horrible if he was?” Steve turns around to face him, “If he was flirting with me, that is.”

“No, of course not, he can flirt with whoever he wants.”

“Just not me?” 

“Well duh.” he says as if it’s obvious, “You guys are basically like my brothers, it’d be weird. Plus, you’re not even into guys, it wouldn’t be fair to Eddie.”

“Wait, you know about Eddie?” Robin says, rounding on him, shocked. There’s a dull thud from behind them. Eddie must’ve finally gotten out of his van.

“You know about Eddie?”

The bell jingles merrily above the door, and they turn to look at him.

Eddie takes them in, then says “Hello to everyone except Steve.” he leans forward on the counter nearest him, eyes boring into Steve, “And a special ‘Hello’ to everyone else.”

There’s a two second silence, then, “Oh my god that was horrible.” Robin laughs.

Dustin gags, “Ugh, ew, I think you’re right Steve.” 

Steve, however, is just staring back at Eddie. 

Eddie, who’s visibly getting more uncomfortable the longer it’s taking Steve to respond.

Steve, whose face blazes red a second later, “You’ve been flirting with me this whole time.”

Eddie straightens up, flushing a bit as he rubs the back of his neck. “Uh.. yeah, I have. That okay?”

“Yeah.. yeah, it’s good.” Steve laughs, a little breathless. Then, throwing all caution to the wind, “Hey, wanna go see a movie on Friday?”

This question seems to genuinely shock Eddie, he stands there, frozen, only unfreezing when Steve continues on with “As friends if you want, but I was thinking that since you’ve been flirting with me for the last six months…” 

“No! I mean, yes. Yeah, yep. Absolutely I do. Want to go on a date with you.”

Steve grins, “Cool.”

and then they go see Trick or Treat bc it opened that friday (Oct. 24th 1986) and bc it sounded like a halloween movie, only for it to be the best/worst b-list horror movie about a bullied metalhead named eddie and the ghost of his fave rockstar

rip eddie munson, you would've loved trick or treat

dividers from @saradika-graphics

[anadiasmount]

we’re pretending? - jude bellingham x reader.

quick sum: no date to an upcoming wedding, you use your best friend as last resort. what happens when your best friend isn’t playing pretend anymore and you’re left conflicted with these unusual feelings…

wc: 4.6 k | masterlist | jude’s masterlist

psa 🗣️: i used my og ‘glory box’ fic to get some inspo while writing this fic ngl!! 😣 this was so fun to write not only by the trope but the DRAMAAAA!! like always, hope you enjoy! 🤍

“yes mom, i know. i picked my dress up yesterday, and my flight is booked as well,” you sighed and rolled your eyes knowing she wouldn’t be able to see you through the phone. she knew how important this wedding was but she kept putting the pressure on you. it was the last thing you needed especially after you told her you’d bring someone along.

that someone was now you’re ex-boyfriend. you had less than 48 hours to come up with an excuse or show up alone.

"are you still bringing your plus one?" she asked, the line going silent for a few seconds before she spoke up again. "y/n? are you there?" you should've just lied or said the truth, all you could think of was how happy and super excited she was when you told her you'd met someone and began dating.

"yes mom... we both will be there," you closed your eyes, disappointment in yourself filling the void in your head. you could hear her squeal in the background, telling a voice there with her about the good news. you chewed on your lip anxiously, wanting to cut the call or else you'd break down.

"listen mom, i have t-to go okay? ill call you tomorrow. try not to stress so much," you smiled weakly hearing an "i love you", ending the call after gifting your goodbye. there was no avoiding the mistake you had committed. you wanted to slap some common sense into yourself, because where the hell were you about to find someone?

you clearly remembered the day telling your mom you'd met someone at uni. she was over the moon and wanted to tell everyone but you dismissed the idea, not wanting to rush since you had recently met. you would call her and tell her about him, and she listened so attentively, just like in the movies.

you couldn't bring yourself to tell her when you and max had broken up. your whole life has always been surrounded by being told you needed to be more like your older sister, the pressure of being a golden child laid on you. for once you had something, but that had to get ruined as well.

the scolding, the perfect grades, friends, hell even family. you had to be so careful and live up to their expectations. you loved them, you did, but at times you just felt like moving away was the best idea. and you did just that, the first to move out to a new country, breaking records at uni, and even finding a suitable job.

your boss loved you, and coworkers admired you for the passion and dedication you carried. so why did it have to go all wrong with max? you had an image of him in your head that he was madly in love with you, though you'd later be proven wrong when you found out he was sleeping with his boss. finding them in the act on your 6th month anniversary.

you still can recall the feeling of being unable to breathe, their screams and his pleading going quiet as you could just stare into the room, not once being able to see his eyes. disgust, and rage, but mostly sadness, a heavy heart, and the lump in your throat. he hurt you terribly and you would forever resent that.

after the call, you sat quietly on the couch, hands in your hair as you thought about everything. looking around seeing your bags packed, the blue dress hanging by your room, pictures everywhere. you hated to admit but you were living in a hell, life messy and a disaster. your buzz ringed, seeing through the tiny camera your best friend jude in the frame.

you allowed him in, walking over to the large mirror and wiping away the dry tears, making yourself look more presentable. you looked worn out, eyes droopy and low, lips slightly chapped, and to make matters worse a zit on your chin. you exhaled a breath, keys jiggling as jude came in.

he set his training bag down, took his shoes off, and walked to you, giving you a small hug. "you look terrible," you gave him a warning look, "but lucky you, i brought us food," he spoke cheerfully, the mood inside you going from gloomy to content. "it's raining like crazy, i almost fell coming up. also i brought some packages and your mail," jude continued.

"thank you, i haven't had the time to go down and pick them up! i've been so busy packing and planning last-minute stuff," you groaned, going to the kitchen and washing your hands. "watch, in the next few minutes i'm going to get a call," you theorized. jude pulled out the food and served it into your plates as you grabbed a water for him and a soda for yourself.

"how was training?"

jude shrugged unimpressed, "same old. didn't really have to go in, but they needed me for a small campaign shoot, so i had no choice. also cama and tchou send their hello's."

you and jude spoke amongst yourself. just about each other's days and catching up from the last time you guys were together. you teased him about losing a bet with his little brother, jude whining about how he cheated. new music that came out, and a pop up store that opened lower in downtown.

"so what's got your head in a twist?" jude sipped on his last few ounces of water, leaning his head on his propped-up arm and hand. you awkwardly scratch the back of your neck, pick up the dirty dishes, and walk to the sink. "okay don't make fun of me-"

"you're basically asking me too... also no promises since you just made fun of me for losing against jobe," jude chuckled.

"jude."

"oh it's serious then... what did you do?" he saw the serious look on your face, a small worry constructing in his chest because he rarely saw you like this. you close your eyes, feeling the anxiety build in you once again, "i told my mom i was still bringing max..."

jude scoffed in denial, or trying to cope with the confusion, "y/n, you what?"

"i know! i know! i should've just confessed and coughed up the truth but i- i couldn't! she was so excited jude! i feel terrible for lying believe me i do, but after telling her about him and filling her with hope to break her heart, i just c-c-couldn't," you ramble, dishes clattering as you freaked out.

in your head it didn't seem as bad, but fully saying it out loud to jude, seemed even worse. jude grimaced, knowing you had messed up bad especially since the wedding was right around the corner. "i'm just embarrassed... i know they will start something and just talk down on me if i showed up alone."

jude knew how heavy-handed your family could be, often wanting to resent them because he cared for you so much. he saw how physically and mentally they could rain you even with the smallest sentence. they seemed so worried with their lives instead of the ones they should most value and care for.

jude gave you a concerned face, "what?" chuckling nervously when you gasped out, almost being able to see the lit-up light bulb on top of your head. "jude, I'm a genius!"

"well i beg to differ-"

"shut up," you pat your finger against your chin, a mischievous smile on your lip taunting jude's concern even more. "i don't know why i didn't think of this sooner! why don't you pretend to be my boyfriend? just for the wedding that's it!"

jude shook his head, hands coming up to back out of the idea. it was one thing you lying, but now asking you to play pretend was something totally different. "that's not a good idea y/n..." jude clenched his teeth forcing a smile. "oh cmon why not?"

"well, first of all, that's an even bigger lie to your mom. second, pretending would seem impossible. third, i don't want the first time meeting your parents to be a lie because of what happened," jude defended and stated his case.

"it's a huge favor but you'd save my life jude! one weekend and that's it! you have plenty of suits, you're also off this weekend, and they would never suspect a thing! please jude! i wouldn't be asking if i wasn't so desperate," you begged, seeing the hesitation in his eyes.

"it seems like a bad idea... you don't know what you're asking for y/n... were pretending to be a couple when were not! we have to make it believable even under the pressure of the wedding. a theatrical play, a stunt!" jude exclaimed standing up from his chair.

"jude please, please, please! it might feel weird but it's for the night only! after that, we go back to the good old y/n and jude," you followed him as he paced in your living room thinking of his answer. would it be back to normal even if he continued to feel the same for you? the unknown loving feeling he had for you?

the pretending would be hard when all he could hardly think of was you. how he felt recently and how nervous he got around you. he would do anything for you in a heartbeat, but this would break jude further than now. he couldn't fake pretend holding your hand, or kissing your cheek when he meant and wanted to do that with you currently.

as bad as the idea was, here he was hugging you as you cheerfully yelped when he agreed. time moved slowly for him, the sensation of regret and curiosity as what was yet to come from both of you. all he cared for was to make sure you were happy, and if faking being your boyfriend would help you, he was willing to do it, no matter the consequences.

as jude was fixing his hair, you finished setting your makeup with some powder and setting spray. nerves bubbling in you after the first test you encountered last night after your arrival. you let out a laugh at the tiny bed you had to share with jude. seeing his uneasy face even after he offered to sleep on the couch.

"we're running on schedule," you spoke, finishing clasping your jewelry around your hands and rings. jude came behind you, his shirt unbuttoned and abs in full view, as he finished zipping his pants. best friend or not, there was no denying how incredibly sexy jude was. the name should speak for itself, but with the looks and personality he had, it was too good to be true.

"need some help?" he asked seeing you nod slowly and looking down at your feet. he took the necklace, your skin on fire as his fingertips grazed your skin accidentally, almost jumping on the spot, goosebumps grazing your body. he clasped the necklace, grabbing the pendent and fixing it so it laid in the middle. "perfect," he cockliy smirked.

"thank you."

"are you almost ready?" he looked at you as he buttoned up his shirt, you almost stuttered but regained consciousness, "yes, just need to put my dress and shoes on," you turned back quickly furrowing your brows, wanting to slap yourself for allowing yourself to get carried away, or maybe at the uneasy desire in you when seeing jude.

you went to the bathroom, grabbing the lacy undergarments and the blue dress. the color was to die for, the perfect length even with your heels on, the opened back with the front just showing the perfect amount of cleavage, and the whole dress just accentuating your body even more.

you felt the need to throw some water in your face though you couldn't or else it would ruin your makeup. you settled with fanning yourself with your hand, the tense in your chest getting to you as it was becoming real now. you were just pretending with jude. nothing more right?

you looked in the huge light-up mirror, and suddenly the confidence you had dripped away as you thought of jude in the next room over. why did all of a sudden everything feel like it wasn't before? as in, things changed drastically since the night at your apartment? you've never felt this clumsy or as edgy around him.

when you woke up this morning, with jude on top of you laying peacefully, you couldn't help but feel overjoyed, as if it was a natural state and you've done it before. in your own world where the only thing that mattered was him and you. since then you were slightly freaked out, butterflies in your chest when he left or walk into the room.

jude double taked a look as you walked into the room again. the tiny room that felt like a joke to him after walking in hand to hand last night. his eyes roamed you, lips slightly separated as he admired your beauty, heart hammering in his chest. he watched as you grabbed your cheeks, immediately offering to help.

he leaned down, gently grabbing your foot and placing the white jeweled heel on you. your hands were clamped around the small bench cushions, jude looking up then and there to make sure they felt comfortable. once again, his touch felt like fire, playing with your head even more.

when he finished clasping the heel, he extended his hand helping you up. "you look absolutely gorgeous y/n... this dress was made for you," jude croaked, hearing you laugh shakily. "thank you jude. likewise," jude smiled at your reaction, "i mean as in you look super handsome with the suit, not a dress!" you explained.

"i think i got what you meant..." he joked, his eyes roaming uo and down again at you. "good. good. shall we head out?" you swallowed heavily, grabbing your purse, phone, and other stuff you needed for the night. you were in a rush, wanting to get some fresh air or you would explode in the room with jude inside. "lead the way y/n."

jude helped you in an out of the cab, his hand on your bare back as he guided you to the double doors leading into the reception. "how are you feeling? any nerves?" you spoke quietly to him, looking around as people were taking their seats or had their own conversations.

"some but not too many. like you said, it's just for today," he whispered along your ear, gently giving your shoulder a kiss as his hands went to your hips and walked you forward. your mom and aunt gasped, grabbing their dresses and walking towards you, almost sprinting. "here goes nothing," you say.

"oh my god! so you are real!" your mom yelped, making you give her a glare and eyes pleading not to make a scene. "i was starting to think my sweet y/n was lying to me about this boyfriend she had," you almost choked on your saliva, clearing your throat at her words. "i am y/n's mom, what is your name?"

"i'm jude. it's a pleasure to finally meet you ma'am," jude shook her hand and leaned down to kiss her cheeks in a greeting manner, the same with your aunt. jude's hand interlocked with yours, the happiness in your mother's eyes never leaving, almost tearing up at the sight of you with your "boyfriend."

"i can't believe it! it's a miracle, my daughter finally has her first boyfriend," she clapped her hands making you wretched at her choice of wording. you did everything to have her at least praise you once in life, and all it took was to have a boyfriend? you brushed away the glum feeling, jude kissing your hand, distracting you from the small burn in your eyes.

"oh my! look at them! they make such a beautiful pair," your aunt gleamed. "we do, don't we?" jude teased them, "took her a while to say yes to me, but i'm very fortunate to be here," jude resumed. "we're very pleased to have you here, anything you need don't hesitate to ask."

after saying hello to other family friends and cousins, you sat for the ceremony. jude wiped a small tear away after your old school friend finished her vows, slapping his shoulder when he made a small joke about your mascara running. "its not funny! the vows were so beautiful," you said.

"it's like we are watching me before you again," he said making you gasp. "jude what are talking about? you literally cried with me?" you recalled laughing, jude looking around scared if someone was hearing you. "please don't remind me... in my defense, i didn't see that ending at all."

after the ceremony, you and jude greeted other families, and most importantly congratulated the bride and groom. their faces ushered with happiness, overall content with how their day was turning out. you had to excuse yourself from jude at one point, your mom dragging you away for your help. jude was left behind with your dad.

"since she was little, she always hated getting thrown or dragged around," your father spoke, taking a sip of his whiskey. "seems like nothing had changed?" jude asked carefully with a playful smile. "oh not even close! it's my wife doing," he winked.

"jude right?"

"yes sir," jude nodded, presenting the dad talk coming up. "I'm gonna save the unnecessary talk and get straight to the point. it's so weird to see my baby girl all grown up, with the lusting and loving eyes she gives you. you love her very much and i can see that which is why i'm not worried about you hurting or losing her trust."

hell if jude didn't feel guilty before, he did now. he gripped the glass harder, nodding to your dad who looked upset. "she may have told you some stuff about us, but at the end of the day, she's my daughter and i love her the way she is... please just take good care of her for me... she been through enough as it is..."

"i only have good intentions and i promise you i won't ever break her heart," jude promised to your dad, but also himself. he would never be able to forgive himself if he ever did break your heart or make you lose the trust you had. max did it once and jude would never do it. even if it meant keeping away these long feelings for you.

when you returned you saw them laughing and chatting away, your heart full of emotions at them getting along. jude was so mature for his age, and it didn't come to a surprise when he got along with your dad so fast. his hand would naturally lay on your back or on your hip.

the next few hours were filled with more people dancing or chatting away. jude insisting you sat on his lap for a picture when the photographer passed, smiling wide, looking like a happy couple. it seemed so natural to you, being this close and intimate you were getting scared at how fast everything was being thrown at you.

"i had to see it for myself! y/n bagging a footballer? never saw that coming," your cousin approached you giving you a high as he dabbed up jude. "jude meet my cousin adrian, he's a huge fan of you, and just successfully signed with a small club," you introduced them to each other, with a huge grin on your face.

jude’s hand snuck around your waist, his thumb drawing shapes as his full attention was with your cousin who spoke about sports. you listened then and there, but your feet began to ache, switching your weight back and forth uncomfortably.

jude was quick to notice, leaving down to your level and asking if you were okay. “i’m fine i promise, these shoes are killing me that’s all,” you reassured with a smile, jude nodding before cutting the conversation after a few minutes. “i’m going to get her a chair and drinks for us,” you froze when he kissed your temple, “i’ll see you around later,” jude said his goodbyes dragging you along slowly.

like before, your chest beat faster, if he stared, smiled, even touched or got near you, you’d get nervous immediately. the familiar string of falling for someone filling the empty space left behind inside you. he was super good at pretending and it didn’t feel like that anymore.

it felt real. was he just pretending? or was he actually taking this fake relationship seriously and real?

all you could do was stare at his face, mostly his gorgeous brown eyes as he helped you get seated and served you some water, making sure you were fully okay. he sat next to you, his hand interlocking with his, and placing it on his lap as he paid attention to his surroundings. you become quiet, so into your head and questioning his every move now.

“jude?” you spoke softly, a confused smile on your face as he immediately turned to you with a soften gaze. you inhaled a breath, unable to look away from him, his ínstese state causing you to feel intimidated. “is everything okay?” he asked, leaning slightly over to you, pushing a small string of hair back. “is it supposed to feel like this?”

“what is?” jude shook his head not understanding.

“us? why am i getting the idea we’re no longer pretending…”

jude tore his gaze from yours, the panic growing more intense when he wouldn't reply back. "jude please... don't push me away. are we just pretending or has something changed?" you persisted, your hand gliding against his back to get his attention. jude debated, afraid of losing you right here and now, or having the possibility to maybe hear you feel the same way.

"come with me," jude demanded, helping your and dragging you to the dance floor where no one could really see you besides the other happy couples. his hands circled your waist, as yours went to his shoulders, unable to look away from him. "tell me i'm not the only one who feels it..."

"tell me what you feel y/n... what your head is begging to scream out..."

"i can't, i don't know jude. i'm afraid yet so confused? since we got here yesterday things feel different between us. it happened again when we had breakfast, when you put my necklace on, my heels! all of this is giving me mixed signals jude... i haven't felt this in so long.." you confess, a shaky breath escaping your lips when he pulls you closer and kisses your head.

"like now. i can't if you just did that out of pretending or because it came naturally to you. i've never had to worry about what you think till recently... it feels strange... yet ican't help but get hope that it means real," you rest your forehead on his shoulder blinking away the tears that slowly begin to let out.

jude could see how this was affecting you, holding your lower body with one hand and the other smoothing down your spine, feeling how you immediately let loose and relaxed by his praise and touch. jude could also feel the heavy weight beginning to feel heavier if he kept his true hidden feelings away. it was a sign, and there was no going back.

jude's hand cradled your chin, forcing you to look up at his, his brown eyes gazing over your teary face. he was truly amazed and so in love with you it made his head feel cloudy, almost dizzy, at how perfect and pure you were. his tummy fluttering at his gorgeous girl who was confused at how she felt... but in this moment jude knew you were in deep as well.

"tell me something, when you see me, does it make your heart race, like i'm the only person standing there?" you nod, "does your head tell you one thing but your gut tells you another when you see me?" you nod again, this time blowing the air out of jude's lungs. "my head tells me i shouldn't, but my gut tells me i waited so long that maybe it's now to late for us..."

"why would it be too late y/n...?" you shrug your shoulders. "because i don't you feel the same way i'm feeling." jude smiled weakly, his thumb brushing along your jaw, hearing your hum in delight, "how can you know when you haven't asked me?"

your eyes search his for any sign but you don't find any, "what are you feel in this moment jude?"

"that i'm the luckiest man to be here with you tonight," he says proudly, "that i don't think we've wasted any time, rather i feel we're barely getting started on this new branch of our lives... i can't pretend when i'm with you... because pretending to hide how i feel has been so hard, when all i want is you. all of you y/n..."

"i had to see you go through that idiot max, how he hurt you? when you were hurt i was even more devastated because i couldn't protect you. i'd do anything to make you happy or laugh because it's what i want to do. i want to be the only one who gets to do that. i promised your dad but myself also, ask me what the promise is..." jude insisted.

"what's your promise jude?"

"that i'd never break your heart or give you a reason to doubt me. that from this day forward, i completely will give you my all to care and relish our love once and for all. i'm tired of waiting and holding back of what should've existed and started when i first met you."

"jude-"

"i want to give you my all, to be devoted and in love with you forever. you have no idea what you make me feel, think! i wake up longing for you, at work, at my own home. you're the only girl i want and need in my life y/n," jude confessed, the weight finally lifted of his shoulders, now being able to feel like a free man.

you closed your eyes, breathing out a happy chuckle in relief. you sniffled, "you've ruined me jude, completely ruined me with your words, your confession! look at me, i'm worse than when we finished watching the vow!" you joked, hand nestling on the nape of his next, stroking his soft skin.

"you love me jude?"

"more than what you think."

"i need you to know i'm giving you my all as well. I've always sensed how different what we had was, and come to find out, i was just scared and felt the need to push away because you didn't feel the same way. what i feel for you never happened with who shall not be named..." jude chuckles, closing his eyes and swallowing a heavy gulp like you.

"i'm so hopelessly in love with you jude bellingham... so in love, i want to grow old with you, make every promise we said out loud come true. i knew i loved you as soon as we laid eyes, and you stumbled over your words," jude squinted his eyes, shaking his head embarrassed. "kiss me jude."

jude kissed you exactly how he dreamed. your lips soft and sweet as he imagined, even better. cradling your chin to tilt and pulling the kiss deeper. it felt so right, so amazing, so passionate. he was lost, his tongue entering your parted lips when you let out a small gasp and whimper. there was no more pretending, this was more real than ever.

"could get lost in how you taste. how you feel. i love you so much angel."

[lanabuckybarnes]

I love bucky and princess 🥰 could you maybe do something where he’s punishing her and then gets really annoyed when she’s not answering his questions after they’ve been going a while…he thinks she’s being bratty but it’s because she’s in sub space and can’t really hear him and is feeling vulnerable?

Confessions.

18+ MINORS DNI

Princess has been off all day; a lingering feeling deep within her, running through her veins and it’s driving her insane. It’s not she’s around Bucky she realises just what it was. Bucky realises something too.

Pairing: Bodyguard!Bucky x Bratty!Reader (Princess)

Warnings: Princess screaming at poor workers again, Dom Bucky, Brat Taming, Spanking (with a belt), Hair Pulling, Subspace Princess, Very Guilty Bucky, Praising, Kinda Sweet, Confessions, the L word bleugh — any more warnings please let me know!!

Word Count: 2.6k

Note: thank you to my bbg @buckys-wintersoldier for reading over this and making sure I didn’t just straight up delete it lol and for helping me decide what to do with it. I love ya

Princess has been feeling off all day. A sensation lurking deep in her bones that just doesn’t feel normal and when something doesn’t feel right with Princess she tends to freak out—letting her recently sweet behaviour around Bucky slip as she nose dives into something she feels comfortable in, something that she can wrap around her like a defensive shell.

Usually, in times like this, she’d use Bucky’s still aura to her advantage, letting his calmness embrace her until she felt right again but he wasn’t here—of course the day she felt herself slip Bucky was dealing with other business.

Lost in her trance she fails to notice the maid turning the corner; she blasts right into her, sending the tray the woman was carrying reeling to the floor, the red wine and olives staining the rug instantly. But it wasn’t the rug Princess cared for, the wine had splattered all over her stark white dress, red pooling on the train at her feet—it was brand new and more expensive than a small car.

Before she could stop herself the uneasy feeling creeped into her veins, boiling alongside the anger she felt and exploding into rage.

“Are you FUCKING STUPID!” She spat, the maid instantly flinching and cowering into herself.

“I swear to fucking good no one here is actually good at their job, I mean how hard is it to watch where you're walking…look at that” Her hands grabbed at the dress, shaking the train, her eyes trained on the maid as she looked at the fabric in sheer terror.

“I-I'm really sorry miss I didn’t see you-“Princess snarled, cutting off the woman’s pleading words.

But before anything else could fall from her mouth that she would regret his voice entered the house. She sucked on her bottom lip as his loafers clicked against the floor until she could smell his cologne— usually the scent was enough to have her hanging her head in submission but she was furious, she wouldn’t go down that easy.

Bucky jutted his chin to the side behind Princess, signalling to the maid that she could scurry off and out of the penthouse for at least a little bit. The staff that frequented the house had grown accustomed to the fact that Bucky’s entry meant their departure and the maid couldn’t have been more thankful that he’d chosen to show up just there.

“Princess?” He spoke, authority dripping from the name as he tilted his head ever so slightly. When she turned to face him all his questions were answered. Bucky had years to master his impeccable poker face, standing in front of a mirror for hours at a time had taught him to remain completely unreadable but, it had also taught him how to read others like open books and the girl standing in front of him had all cover open and pages lain bare for him to study.

“Fucking bitch spilt shit on me” She was still angry but his body close to her was slowly sucking the rage from her bones, replacing it with the submission she was so used to—but that feeling remained, heavy in the pit of her stomach and pumping around her bloodstream.

“Did you shout at her?” He asked, fingers curling around her jaw and raising her head until she was gazing at his steel blue eyes. For some unknown reason, Bucky had the innate ability to sense when Princess lied to him, so she never did.

“Mhmm” she nodded against his tight hold, averting her gaze to his dark-coloured tie.

“And you remember what happens when we shout at people right?” He questioned, fingers digging into the fat of her cheeks until her lips parted just enough for his thumb to slip in.

-

Princess yelped as the leather cracked down on her ass again, right in the spot he’d struck before. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she fisted the sheets below her; her chest heaving as she took stuttered breath after stuttered breath. She’d lost count of the spanks, choosing instead to focus on not screaming out—Bucky growled as he brought the leather down two more times.

“You gonna fucking keep forgetting our rules huh? Little slut…maybe you wanted fucking spanked, is that it is that why you're Not. Fucking. Answering. Me. Brat.” He enunciated each word with a heavy chop of his belt against the backs of her thighs before leaning forward grabbing a fist full of her hair and pulling her up against his clothed front.

He chuckled at the unabashed moan that fell from her lips as the dark leather ran over the swell of her tit, tapping against her nipple “Maybe I gotta hurt these a little for you to listen, what do you think of that princess?” And for the first time since shoving her onto his bed he looked at her face. His grip loosened in realisation as he noticed the fogged expression over her eyes—lips parted and swollen, her face red and puffy with tear tracks running down till they slipped over her jaw and down her neck. He knew straight away exactly what was going on.

He sucked in a breath as he guided her down gently, unwrapping his hand from the belt and tossing it off to the side.

“Angel?” He whispered, slotting himself between her spread legs and running a thumb over her cheekbone; she mustered a small nod in response.

“Ohhh babygirl you feeling extra subby today huh? Should’ve told me baby and I wouldn’t have hurt you so bad” he flinched at the hiss she let out as his finger smoothed over the welted skin on her ass.

Since the first whack of his belt against her rear that feeling that festered in her body had finally begun to take over; starting from her heart to her sweet little mind, clouding it over until all she could hear was the rushing of her blood and her soft little whimpers as Bucky punished her, spanking her again and again for being so bratty and ignoring him. When she finally reached out, pulling herself to the forefront of her mind, Bucky was leaning over her, swiping away at her tears tenderly while his other hand held up his weight.

He smiled sweetly as some of the fog lifted from her eyes, her wide-coloured orbs watching him like he was the centre of her world—right now he very much was.

“Good girl that’s it, you took your punishment so well princess…just wish you told me you were feeling like this” On the outside Bucky fronted a tenderness he reserved for only her but his brain growled at him for being such an idiot.

How had he not noticed the signs? They were glaring right at him the whole time yet he brushed them off, assuming that she’d just been her bratty self—he was scared she would cower away from him, that he’d pushed her too far and she was too deep in her subspace to say no. He’d hurt her bad.

For the first time since being around Bucky she could read his expression, he was in pain, upset, guilty.

Princess hated seeing his face contorted in such a way.

With a shaky hand she cupped Bucky’s stubbled face and brought his lips down onto hers; sucking up any insecurity he felt into her hot mouth and swallowing it greedily.

When he pulled away to catch his breath, much to her dismay, she let out a desperate whine “Want you Bucky” Her eyes swirled with lust as she begged the man for something he wasn’t sure he could give her—not without hurting her again.

“But I hurt you angel” his voice trembled as he replied, his right hand splayed out on the sheets beside her head, holding up his weight as his left fingers caressed her cheek.

She shakes her head animatedly at his words; he could never hurt her, ever. “Mm mm Buck you didn’t hurt me, I just wanna be your good girl”.

“You’re always my good girl princess” he whispered, lips pecking the tip of her nose.

“Then show me”.

Her hands ran down his built body, fingers expertly undoing the buttons of his shirt as they went; her mouth parts as her eyes followed the opening of his shirt, rock solid abs decorated with a soft happy trail, his muscle under his pecs stretching and tensing as he pulled the shirt from his body. She’d never seen him without his typical suit but gazing up at his body now had her questioning if she should make the dress code in her house nothing but tight black briefs just so she could be blessed with the sight of Bucky’s body over and over again.

“You’ll catch flies princess” he chuckled as she shut her mouth obediently, swallowing down the pool of saliva that had gathered there. His brain was working hard to kill the guilty thoughts still looming menacingly and she must’ve noticed too.

“You are gorgeous, amazing and you couldn’t—you wouldn’t ever hurt me, Buck. I know that and you do too” She kissed down his neck, fingers fiddling with the his pants, a smile blossoming on her mouth at the sound of his zipper purring.

He growled as she sucked a dark mark under his jaw, it would be easily visible to anyone including your father but he’d make up some silly excuse about needing to let off steam—only princess and he would know the truth and his cock twitched against her pussy in response.

As her thumbs hook into the material of his pants he grips onto her wrists, heavy wanton breaths fall from his mouth as he moved his head to rest on hers, his deep blue eyes boring into hers.

“You take them off princess and I won’t be able to hold myself back”

But she just smiles, pecking the tip of his nose before pulling the fabric down over his ass; her pussy aches at the sound of his hiss as the waistband of his dark briefs catches on to his aching tip. As soon as the material is at his ankles he snaps, his thick fingers gripping at her, pulling her closer to him until her bare chest rubbed against his deliciously.

“I’m gonna make a fucking mess of you princess, make you feel how bad I’ve been wanting you—you want that?” He groaned into her ear. His fingers dipped down to circle over her aching pearl, his teeth sinking into his lip at the soft keens and whines she let out—all for him.

“Mmhmm Buck I want it so bad, want you to make me your good girl…wanna be your best girl” she heaves as she reaches behind her, fingers securing themselves around his length and sliding it through her slick folds before resting his thick tip at her entrance.

“You’ll always be my best girl princess” he moans deeply in tandem with her breathy one as he sinks her onto his length. She’d never felt stretched like this in her life, the sting bringing more pleasure to her than she admits, her brain fogging as everything became overwhelmingly clear—she loved him, she loved Bucky so much.

“Aww fuck baby so fucking tight” Bucky was trying his best not to cum on the spot, his balls twitching as he held off on painting her hot cavern. He wanted this to be perfect and him coming after mere seconds of being inside her was not his idea of perfect.

He gripped onto her hips, rocking her softly until she began to bounce herself; she was so close, as she had been since he’d started spanking her.

“Fuck Buck so good” she whimpered, fingers gripping at his short locks as she moaned into his mouth, his tongue tasting each high-pitched whine greedily.

“Come when you want princess, need you to gush around my cock…then I’ll keep fucking you, yeah you’d like that-“ he laughed airly as her cunt clenched around him “god that pussy is fucking suffocating me, baby, gonna make you cum again and again then I’m gonna fucking fill you so much”

His words pushed her over that edge she’d been dangling on for so long. Her cunt fluttered as she moaned his name like a prayer, her hands pressing crescent-shaped dents into his built back.

“Ohhh fuck Buck” she sobbed into the crook of his neck. He shushed her softly, plump lips kissing over the shell of her ear, grounding her from her high. When she calmed, he rocked into her at a steady pace, his feet planted onto the floor as his hips bucked quickly into her.

“Come on princess one more for me—oh fuck—yesss god fucking pussy I can’t get enough ohh angel I’m going crazy” he snarled, flipping them suddenly without ever pulling out or even losing his pace, her loud moans mixing with his like music to his ears. He sucked on his thumb before thrumming it over her sensitive bud, his chest rumbling with a deep desperate groan as she clamped down on him again.

“Mmm fuck I’m gonna cum baby, you want my come baby? You want it inside that pretty princess pussy? Oh hurry baby come again oh shit I’m gonna come—oh fuck princess I love you” his eyes rolled into the back of his head as his cock spasmed with release, pushing squirt after squirt of his seed into her cunt. His warm nut hitting her cervix had her coming again.

“Oh, shit princess—hah—such a good fucking girl, the best” Bucky praised as he slipped his cock from her spent cunt, resisting the urge to push it right back in when his milky essence spilt erotically from her pretty little pussy. In his pleasured stupor he’d neglected to acknowledge those three little words that had fallen from his mouth, the ones he’d been trying so hard to hide ever since that first day, but it only festered as he spent days and nights with you.

Princess was on a completely different planet; her body was roaring with joy and fulfilment—Bucky has finally fucked her, and made her feel like the prettiest girl in the world with his words.

When she finally sailed back to planet Earth Bucky was just returning with a wet cloth, his cock bouncing between his legs as he walked over to the edge of the bed and sat to clean her off, god this man was so hot, and he loved her.

“You-“ she began, words catching in her throat at the first swipe of the cloth over her sensitive folds. He gazed up at her, blue eyes urging her to continue “You love me?” webs of fear, vulnerability and self-consciousness coated the words.

Bucky’s heart fell to his stomach, he’d hoped that she hadn’t heard him, not because he didn’t love her—fuck he really did—but he couldn’t, his job and her status prevented it, her father would have his head on a spike if he found out any of this.

But her wide eyes, her soft giggles in the morning when she’d make his coffee wrong on purpose, the time she’d found his helmet and just had to put it on and then the times she truly showed her vulnerability to him—fuck he loved her and he wasn’t going to lose her.

“Mhmm, love you so much Princess” he wanted to say more but it all died on his tongue, especially when she reached up, her hand cupping his face, her thumb running over the high point of his cheek before pulling him down to meet her mouth in a soft, tender kiss.

“I love you too”.

-

EEEE idk how I feel about this one tbh but I sure do hope you enjoy it. Are Bucky and Princess finally going to stop being little idiots and just date? Who knows because her daddy is ruthless

I have one more lil fic to post that’ll be set before this then I’m gonna take a break from Buck and Princess to focus on some juicy fics and ideas that are calling out for me

Likes, Reblogs and Asks are always appreciated ❤️

[jenneyquinn]

𝐢 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐢𝐧 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐮𝐧𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞

in which the pine tree and llama are the epitome of soulmates w/c: 11.2k words (not proofread) masterpost

“in case if you have forgotten, pacifica northwest is the worst.”

well, near the end of their first summer in gravity falls, worst would be the cumulative word to describe pacifica—in the view of dipper pines, that is. and how could he not? so far, all he’s seen of her was a spoiled, rich, mean girl who was nothing but awful to his sister. a product of a family consistent with fraudulence and an unwavering desire to be at the top—

“pacifica’s rich, she’s cheating at life”

“nathaniel northwest didn’t found gravity falls and your whole family’s a sham”

—dipper could describe pacifica in many words that would paint her in a negative light, but there could be only much to say about her that is justified by his character. he doesn’t hold a lot of money to his name, or his family for that matter, but he lived life honestly. to find the truth in all things.

and considering pacifica northwest was cruel enough to make his sister feel bad about herself? what more truth was there in calling her the worst?

amongst the roars and cheers of the audience in the telepathy tent, there was a pair of starry eyes that were completely struck in awe, and maybe... admiration?

but how could she not? from the flashing lights to the glowing cerulean bolo ties that match their eyes (which also managed to glow?)—pacifica southeast was hooked on the gleeful twins, especially the male counterpart of the pair; as revealed by the faint blush on her cheeks.

her cousin, gideon pines, begged to differ. though knowing him, pacifica knew that the chubby little nerd is hard to impress—hard enough that he might as well be dubbed the "fun police".

gideon just doesn't get it, she thought, if those dreamy blue eyes were in front of him, alluring as he is mysterious...

she then gets lost in the image that occurred just a moment ago: the gentle look of dipper gleeful's eyes boring right into hers, taking her warm hand in his cold one as he brings it to his lips, barely grazing the surface; all the while looking directly at her, the smallest hint of a grin gracing his face right after.

despite how cold he felt, how cold his aura was—pacifica couldn't have felt any hotter that summer night.

“i went from undergrad to phd three years ahead of schedule, wrote a thesis that was nationally ranked and was awarded an enormous grant for my own scientific research! but what to study…?”

after being rejected from his dream school, dipper pines worked twice as hard from his time at backupsmore uni to reap success similar to what he would’ve achieved had he made it into west coast tech.

one day, dipper pushes his hair back when he looks at himself in the mirror, pondering over his constellation-looking birthmark…

then suddenly, click!

in the blink of an eye, he finds himself in the middle of nowhere in gravity falls, oregon, obviously needing a place to stay.

that's when dipper goes to northwest realty, where he meets up-and-coming realtor, pacifica northwest.

"so, you wanna buy this lot?" she asks, unclear if she heard the guy right. "are you sure you wouldn't like to reconsider and opt for an alternative location? i mean—given this lot has been a preserved environmental space, and you'll be ways away from the town—you'd be funneling a lot of money just to get this lot and build a home here."

"oh, it's alright, miss—"

"just call me pacifica." she interrupts, but smiles.

"sorry—pacifica, i can assure you that money is no issue to me. i've recently received quite the grant to pursue an independent study, and this would be the perfect location to conduct my research."

"i see, but mister pines—"

"it's dipper," he cuts off, returning her smile from a moment ago.

she chuckles before continuing: "if it's researching your business here, i can gladly show you a place close to the local library—or the museum? our town archives?? surely this would be a more efficient use of your money."

"heh, you're not like the other northwests," dipper replies, reflecting on his own knowledge of the northwest family, "aren't you supposed to be like, bleeding me dry? i'm practically helping you more than myself here."

pacifica gasps, looking offended: "excuse me?"

suddenly, dipper realizes he's messed up. sometimes that mouth of his is too smart for his own good. he didn't mean to insult her, it was meant to be playful teasing that's all!

so he stammers, trying to undo the damage.

"i-i'm so sorry! i didn't mean it—to be insulting, that is! i s-swear it was only meant to be a lighthearted joke! you smell r-really pretty—"

amidst his ramblings, pacifica breaks into a fit of laughter.

"you're something, dipper pines. you know what, let me sell you the lot, and i'll pay a lumberjack to build your new home for you. don't worry, you seem to know a thing or two about my family anyways, so it's no big deal."

"really?" he asks, dumbfounded. "you'd do that? but why?? surely i have some money to spare after getting the lot—"

"i do have one condition, though."

dipper breaks into a sweat—though, he thought he's already gotten past that phase from his adolescent years.

pacifica takes out a small, square pad of yellow sticky notes from the front pocket of her orchid-purple blazer, puts it on her clipboard, taking a pen and writes on the pad. when she finishes, pacifica peels the sticky note from its pad and promptly hands it to the brunette.

"when that house of yours is built, how about i drop by for dinner? that better be some study if it's taking you away from civilization."

“call me crazy, but maybe she’s not so bad after all…”

dipper thinks aloud, surprised by the sudden change in his opinion. besides, how does one go from being the worst to not so bad?

perhaps he was crazy, or maybe it was the faint smell of champagne and flowers in those probably-fake blonde locks of hers... could there be something more to pacifica northwest that goes deeper than the surface? or something deeper between them??

impossible! come on, this is pacifica he's talking about. pacifica northwest! the greatest link in the world's worst chain—but that's like picking out a fresh apple from a basket filled with mouldy fruit.

so, as soon as he let his vulnerability scrawl across the journal page through his pen, dipper just as quickly crosses it out.

the picture can stay, though. after all, his artistic ability does a great job capturing the likeness of her beauty—

okay, i've got to stop that!

pacifica, on the other hand, could not have slept any better.

sure, she had to endure a grounding by her parents and a nightmare traumatizing enough to keep a tapestry of a one-eyed triangle demon locked in her closet so it would no longer bore through her eyes and into her soul.

but she also couldn't deny that it was a humbling experience for herself. pacifica had to face the music and realize that the pines twins were far from her problems... in fact, they might have been the first real friends she has ever had in gravity falls—and she's lived here forever.

the pines twins were the first to show pacifica northwest the truth—about her heritage, about what her family has really done to others, about the kind of person she's come from and whether she wants to maintain that legacy or not.

when she refused to shake that stony, moss-riddled hand, something clicked in pacifica. something that said her integrity was worth more than a dollar sign, that the price of morality could actually mean more than money; and she would have never come to that epiphany if it weren't for dipper and mabel.

after all, them being here has to mean something, knowing that she could sleep in peace, with dipper pines only a call away.

as the morning newspaper plopped on their doorstep, gideon was the resident of the mystery shack who picked it up off the planked stoop. what once was a facial expression of exhaustion immediately turned to one of shock and possibly disgust?

of course, when you read a headline talking about gravity falls’ most dangerous guy dating your cousin, those sort of things will do that to you…

GLEEFUL’S NEW GIRLFRIEND? LADIES STEP ASIDE!

gideon doesn’t bother reading the article himself, but he could tell from the pictures of his mortal enemy and his best friend-slash-cousin being dangerously close to each other—there is something calculated about gleeful’s smile… it’s clearly there for the paps, cameras and flashing lights and all, but there’s something more sinister to that small, suble, charismatic grin.

and that something sinister says: screw you, gideon pines.

“PACIFICAAA!”

despite the local news jolting him wide awake, nothing could’ve prepared gideon for the wolf-pitched squeals filling the shack, all coming from the small southeast.

“no! there is no EEE-ing about this, pazzy!” he bursts, all red in the face and pouty, to which pacifica couldn’t help but laugh to; it was a sight for sure.

it doesn’t take long for them to have yet another conversation about dipper gleeful being too dangeous for pacifica to date—let alone be in close proximity with—but she knows, deeper than the dark side dipper does have, that he is a good person.

but when you see the good in everything, rationality and skepticism won’t budge—which exactly is making the subject between the pines-southeast duo a million times rockier than it needs to be.

i should really get that mirror dusted… dipper thinks to himself as he adjusts his tie using his apparently dusty reflection in the mirror.

embarrassing. the man is already in his twenties, and you think that growing up properly-dressed, the least he could do is put on a tie correctly…

a ding-dong from the front of the shack pulls him out of his concentration, causing dipper to groan and throw his hands up in frustration. he was so sure he was going to get it right this time.

but a final tired, defeated glance at his reflection said otherwise.

nevertheless, dipper goes to answer the front door, where he sees his date looking… why is she wearing sunglasses, a shapeless trenchcoat, and a big hat? is she wearing a disguise??

is she embarrassed to come out here to see me?

letting herself in, pacifica removes the big hat and sunglasses, her platinum blonde hair cascading on her shoulders and down her coat, diamond eyes and strawberry-pink lips giggling at her dorky-looking date.

she approaches him already, which makes dipper more red-faced and sweaty. they couldn’t have their first kiss already?! not when their first date barely began!

he’s all the more ashamed when he puckers his lips only to meet air—cracking one eye open to look down at the woman adjusting his tie, smiling fondly.

when she finishes, she tip-toes to meet his height, giving a single peck on his red-hot cheek and chuckles.

“glad to see you, too.”

if there was anything that mabel has brought to the people of gravity falls, it would be her natural talent for matchmaking.

it’s already one thing that your enemy has stopped being your enemy, and another thing that your twin brother is finally starting to get over his one-sided crush, but for both your ex-enemy and twin brother to have a spark and potentially experience an epic enemies-to-lovers romance?!

it wasn’t the match she ask for, but love works in mysterious ways…

and if this match needs to be made, it shall be made!

it all started with the party at northwest manor…

while mabel had made up with candy and grenda, done with eye candy for the night, she just wanted to have fun and appreciate her girlfriends for a night—after all, it was their dream to party inside of northwest manor than camping out by the main gates like the rest of the townsfolk…

but then… from the corner of her eye, had she spotted her brother… smiling? and having fun?? with another girl???

if mabel has to be honest, she wasn’t exactly thrilled to find out said girl was pacifica northwest, but hey—if dip had to get over wendy, he had to start somewhere…

it didn’t help that she was laying in bed, wide awake in the dead of night, trying to figure out what was going on between the unlikely pair. it got more frustratingly confusing the more mabel paid mind to it, and can someone stuff a sock in her snoring brother’s mouth’s already!

but for a guy who rarely gets any sleep, mabel’s grateful that pacifica was able to entertain dipper enough that he practically went out like a light as soon as his body hit the mattress…

‘though not before sneaking in another quick entry in his journal,’ mabel notes in her head as her tired eyes spot the open journal laying atop dipper’s chest; rising and falling with it.

her eyes squint, trying to make out the drawing of the creature in his journal (not to mention, she’s trying to figure that image out in the dark)

when she catches a glance of the side profile, puffed dress sleeves, and voluminous hair, mabel’s hands join together as her eyes sparkle and a smile spreads across her face.

a scheming smile, that is.

roses are red, pacifica's blood is blue i read what you crossed out i'm onto you!

then, before she signs off her short, yet beautiful poem, mabel takes a final look at dipper's sleeping state; squinting her eyes and chewing the tip of her gel pen.

"start combing your hair, bro-bro..."

although pacifica southeast has barely cried in her lifetime, given that seldom events and things have caused her to be in such a miserable state, nothing could have possibly prepared her for the worst forms of sadness.

betrayal, deceit, heartbreak.

she knew she should've seen it coming, deep down in her heart she knew the true nature of the boy who instantly caught her eye... but it didn't stop pacifica from ignoring all of her cousin's warnings and looking on the bright side, as she typically did.

but maybe this time, there was no silver lining.

she looks back at the polaroid pictures in her summer memories scrapbook, a memorabilia she compiled of her first vacation in gravity falls and the first moments she would share with her family and new friends.

thinking that she would look back at these times in the future and see heartfelt memories, pacifica could only see the polaroid picture where she looked her happiest with dipper gleeful, as a tear drops between where the pair are shown.

he broke her heart, made her cry, but after some tears were shed and noses were blown, pacifica southeast was left with a heart done wrong and justice to be served.

if the gleefuls thought they would get away with this, they were dead wrong.

walking up to the doorstep of her boyfriend’s place, pacifica holds a small gift bag on one hand as she uses her free one to knock on the front door.

excitement is spread throughout her face as she smiles from cheek to cheek, unable to maintain her patience with each passing moment.

though, she wasn’t prepared for her smile to drop the instant when another woman opens the door, greeting pacifica with a single smile before swiftly exiting dipper’s home.

“oh, hey paz!” he greets his girlfriend, smiling. as if some other woman didn’t just leave his place—a woman pacifica clearly had no idea about.

she looks indifferent, refusing to give the guy any sort of response as she enters the shack, bumping her shoulder against his as she walks in.

noticing her sour mood, dipper tries to sweeten it up by using up his nerd charm. i mean, it was how he got to date her from the start.

“c’mon, northwest, no ‘hey four-eyes’?” he asks playfully, dropping his arms to her waist, “no ‘hi dip-head’?”

pacifica pulls away from his arms before he got the chance to pull her in any closer, turning her nose up and away from him as she closes her eyes and huffs.

“hey…” hurt starts to rise in dipper’s voice as she pushes him away, “are you okay? if i did something wrong, you need to tell me. you know i’d never hurt you, right? paz…”

“do i, pines?” she retorts, sounding frustrated. “do i know anything about you? because i know nothing about that girl who just left your house in a good mood, i know nothing about your family, i don’t even know what the heck you research or why you’re in gravity falls!”

“pacifica…”

she sobs as more tears stream down her face: “is it because you don’t think i’m smart enough for you? that i’m nothing more than a pretty face and sort of walking, breathing trust fund you hold onto so when you’re short on money, i’ll be the one saving your butt??”

the blonde turns away from him, not wanting him to see her so vulnerable. dipper, on the other hand, refuses to take this. was this what his girlfriend really thought of their relationship… of herself?

in that moment, dipper curses preston and priscilla northwest for causing their daughter to possibly think so low of herself.

“pacifica,” he speaks up, bringing a hand to her chin and getting her to face him, “the reason why we’re dating isn’t only because of your looks… surely, you must know that?”

he looks into his girlfriend’s tear-filled eyes, his heart breaking at the sight of her miserable state: “you’re so much more that what your parents make you out to be. i date you because i have fun whenever we’re together… you absolutely destroy me in fight fighters and show me that there are other ways to have a good time than books…”

he blushes, internally recalling their shared moments, “the truth is, i get scared. a gorgeous woman like you, inside and out, going out with a nerd like me? it’s like a dream i don’t want us to wake up from… but what if one day, you do wake up? i have nothing much to give to you, pacifica. i don’t have much money to my name, and my research is… laughable to a lot. what if you laughed at me too? you’d think i’m just some loser that’s wasting his time and grant money on weird stuff…”

“dipper pines…” she looks into his eyes intently “do you trust me?”

a silence fills the room for a moment, until he replies.

“of course i trust you, pacifica.”

taking a deep breath before she continues, pacifica continues to look into his eyes through those big glasses of his: “maybe i don’t understand what you research… maybe i never will… but, your work makes you happy."

she smiles at him, her diamond-blue eyes still hot with tears: "i like when i see you happy, dipper. it's... cute? i never felt this way about anybody else before, but i like feeling like this. i like when you geek out about weird stuff—it's when you're really yourself, and i like that you don't let what other people think change that about you."

now, dipper begins to tear up, but trying his best to compose himself—wondering how he got so lucky to be dating such a person.

finally back in her good mood, pacifica hands the gift bag to her boyfriend.

"i got this for our one-month anniversary, it's not much, but i thought i'd get you some more 'thinking pens' for your research... and a pack of chewing gum because i don't want to date someone with braces... or worse—toothless."

after sharing a laugh together, dipper takes pacifica by the hand, leading her to his lab.

"maybe now would be the perfect time to show you what i've been studying since i've moved to gravity falls."

mabel knew that summer's end was fast approaching, but it doesn't mean that there would be no time for romance!

besides, she knew that the plan she was about to concoct wasn't something to be done overnight... sure, making a match for robbie stacy valentino took a couple days to work out—along with the consequences of her social circle—but this project? compared to robbie, he was a piece of cake!

this was her brother. and her former enemy.

the seeds still needed to be sown.

it wasn't completely hopeless though. at least, after the events of the northwest's party and dipper's journal entry, there was potential to be explored. and if dipper pines singlehandedly had the ability to spark a change of heart in pacifica...

if only mabel knew how pacifica northwest felt for her brother...

then, just like a prayer answered, a 'ping' goes off on mabel's phone, revealing a text from an unknown number...

hey, dipper... so about that hug...

hug?! what hug?! she had all wendy's, candy's, and grenda's numbers in her contacts, so who could've possibly wanted to text her brother about some hug that they wanted to forget—

suddenly, as mabel gasped, it was totally clear who it was.

now, there was many ways she could approach this. so many possibilities. does she pretend to be dipper and try to hook him up? does she try to be a supportive friend and be honest with pacifica??

actually, come to think of it... after all the times she's been embarrassed by the hands of that northwest, she's been overdue for a bit of humiliation herself.

a mischievous smile spreads across mabel's face. matchmaking can wait, anyways.

“it’s over, southeast!”

cornerned by the two terrorizing twin-bots, pacifica is left out of options as the gleeful twins have captured gideon, his tiny body restrained by the big metal grip of the mabel-bot.

“you’ve been had,” mabel continues, “the only way for boys to be interested in you was by pretending—which is exactly what my dear brother had just done."

as pacifica turns from mabel to dipper, he turns his head; refusing to look back at her. whether he actually felt a twinge of guilt or didn't care enough to return her gaze was irrelevant—pacifica's heart broke all the same.

"now, we’ve won! with gideon possessing the first and third journals, the gleefuls can finally take over gravity falls… heck—we can take over the galaxy!”

as she laughs maniacally, the turns to gideon, still in her steel grip: “with you as my lil’ king!”

“a-hem,” dipper calls from behind—his robotic hips on one side, metallic arms folded over each other, and a foot tapping against the forest floor; probably scarring away any woodlen creatures nearby.

“you heard me, diphead. there’s only room for one pair of rulers here—but hey! you and will have made decent sidekicks in the past. if all goes well, i’ll make sure there’s room for the both of you in my court—ha!”

with that, mabel’s robot violently shoves dipper’s with one hand as she keeps gideon the other; her grip still tight on the poor child.

“AHH!”

dipper screams as he falls out from the robot’s head, his eyes shut as he braces his demise… if only he still had his amulet.

pacifica gasps, watching dipper in the sky.

“dipper!”

pulling out her grappling hook, she shoots it without a second thought, praying to whatever force out there that it latches onto some sort of strong branch, and leaps forward; the recoil pulling her towards the endangered gleeful twin.

then, before he had any idea, dipper doesn’t feel the weight of the wind and gravity pushing him down anymore. instead, he feels the warmth of something… or rather yet, someone, holding onto him.

he cracks one eye open to see that, pacifica southeast, the girl he’s been deceiving for the past month, glaring at the mabel-bot.

“pacifica?”

“shut up, gleeful. the only reason you’re alive is because you’re helping me get gideon back.”

TACK!—TACK!—TACK!

the stones that hit against the glass of pacifica's bedroom window were enough to annoy her awake. she hoped that her parents weren't bothered by the sound as well, despite her doubts.

"chiu?!" she exclaimed in a hush voice, "the heck are you doing out here? it's three in the morning!"

"pacifica!" the ravenette in the lab coat calls out to the northwest, fiddling with her hands, jerking her head from side to side; as if somebody was watching her. "y-you need to talk to dipper! he doesn't g-get it! wh-what's coming—"

"whoa, candy, hold on," pacifica interrupts, rubbing her temples, "chill. breathe. slow down. what doesn't dipper get? what do you mean 'what's coming'?"

"i'm not crazy, pacifica!" candy panics. "something's coming. something bad. but dipper's too stubborn to stop his work! if you don't stop him, this could be the end of gravity falls!"

"c'mon, talk sense. this is dipper, we're talking about. he wouldn't hurt a fly."

"i don't think we're talking about the same dipper."

with that, candy makes a hasty leave from the grounds of northwest manor, leaving pacifica in a mixed state of exhaustion and confusion.

candy doesn't know what she's talking about, the blonde tries to convince herself, dipper's stubborn, but not stupid.

she sleeps with some difficulty that night, but come morning, she goes to her boyfriend's place to visit; clearly concerned about candy's warning from the night before.

when the door opens, pacifica greets dipper with a big smile, to which he reciprocates, but then asks about the reason of her visit.

"can't i just visit my boyfriend? c'mon, let's go to the lake—your skin's getting pale, dip."

"look, pacifica," dipper speaks as he takes her hand, leading her down to his lab, "i need your help. you've got to take this journal, get as far away as you can from me, and bury it where nobody can ever hope to find it."

as he gives his instructions, dipper shoves a journal into his girlfriend's hands; on the cover is a blue pine tree with the number '2' printed on it.

candy was right. why would dipper need her to go away from him? what did that dummy do??

"wait, you can't just tell me to do whatever you want—especially getting away from you. why do you need me to do this?"

he opens his mouth, but pauses before answering: "i don't think i can tell you that."

she scoffs, "you're kidding. you can't tell me or you won't?"

"i'm serious, i'm not going to risk you knowing too much."

"that's a whole load and you know it. what about candy?" she asks, pointing a finger at him, "she's clearly capable of knowing more than me."

dipper sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose, "don't make this a whole ego thing, pacifica—"

"an ego thing?! i thought we were a team, dipper. i thought you trusted me! or was that nothing more than a bunch of words filled with empty promises?"

she angrily waves the journal, now pointing to it accusingly: "recently, you've been doing nothing but coop yourself down here and write in these dumb books of yours! i swear, these journals have probably gotten more action with your face than i have for the past few weeks. and after finally getting to see you in person for so long—you want to tell me to get away from you? sending me off like some sort of blind dog?!"

"it's not dumb, pacifica—it's dangerous!" dipper exclaims, losing patience with the blonde, "don't ever talk down on my research—"

"well, it must be so lame if you never want it to be seen again. in fact, i'm going to walk to the city dump right now—"

"pacifica, don't!"

as she walks away, dipper goes up to her, trying to tear the book from her hands.

"my life's work!"

as he hastily snatches the book from her grip, dipper gives her a single push of his hand while protecting the journal with the other.

pacifica yelps, losing her balance as she is forced backwards. the side of her head makes an impact with one of dipper's many machines, cutting into her skin before meeting the ground.

"oh my god, pacifica! i'm so sorry, i didn't mean—"

"stuff it, pines." she spats back, dismissing him with her hand. pacifica tries to recollect herself by getting herself off the ground and dusts her clothes.

she then looks directly into his eyes with pure disgust.

"if your work matters more than our relationship, if you don't even trust me enough to let me help you or even tell me what's going on, i'm done."

pacifica turns away from him again, but dipper calls out to her.

"pacifica, wait."

she only turns her head: "do you trust me, dipper?"

just like before, the room is filled with silence. only this time, pacifica doesn't get any reply.

so, she leaves his house for the final time, leaving dipper by himself.

hey mabel, um... is it okay if i could text dipper for a bit? need to ask him something real quick

summer is almost over, her thirteenth birthday is fast approaching, but it already seems like mabel pines' wishes are already coming true.

"DIPPER! PACIFICA'S ASKING FOR YOU! I THINK SHE WANTS TO GO ON A DATE!"

"WHAT?!"

dipper didn't find mabel's exaggeration amusing in the slightest. "it's not a date mabel, she just wants to hang at the lake—as friends."

"okay, so maybe i should join you guys. after all, we're all friends, right?" she shoots back, taunting him.

"no!" dipper objects, his voice squeaking; to which mabel smirk grows. going red in the face, he clears his throat before continuing: "i mean, since paz only asked for me—"

"i'm gonna ignore the fact that you're on pet-name terms now, but you do realize she only asked for you because she—i don't know—might be totally into you!"

his blush deepens at his sister’s accusation.

“c-c’mon! this is pacifica we’re talking about! she only just stopped hating our guts like, less than a couple weeks ago?”

“fine, but you’re still gonna hang with her today, right? she still needs a friend, bro-bro.”

dipper knew mabel was right, and even if she wasn’t as encouraging, a part of him deep down was genuinely looking forward to hang with pacifica one more time before his birthday and leaving gravity falls.

before summer ended and heading back into the unknown.

“help us, will! don’t forget i’m still your master!”

“don’t listen to him, you moldy nacho! i’m your master, not dipstick’s! obey me!”

“ENOUGH!”

the sound of will’s voice booms throughout the forest, bringing the town of gravity falls to a standstill. apart from the triangular demon, only the gleeful twins, pacifica, and gideon remained unfrozen

"i've had just enough of you two brats! generations of torment... well i'm sick of it. no longer is will cipher going to be a slave to the gleeful family! from now on—you guys are on your own! good luck taking over gravity falls without me, you weak flesh-sacks!"

the four children gasp, in shock at the enslaved demon's outrage. with a single snap, the mabel-bot goes powerless, causing it to go limp and tip over.

dipper and mabel clutch onto pacifica for dear life as the latter panics; trying to find a way to get to gideon as he is loosened from the metal grip, freefalling to his demise.

BOOM!

an electric, smoky bubble of blue bursts upon the mabel-bot’s impact on the ground, a ripple spreads throughout the town; bringing a gust of wind to the to the townsfolk.

because of the robot’s explosion, the people of gravity falls gather towards the source of the damage, where they don’t find bodies.

instead, they spot pacifica, mid-air, her hold on the grappling hook breaking her fall. dipper and gideon cling on to each of the blonde’s sides, with mabel’s arms wrapped over her brother’s shoulders from behind; nearly choking the gleeful twin.

as officers powers and trigger catch sight of the gleeful twins, they rush even closer to their aid.

"mabel! dipper! what happened?" trigger cries.

already pulling out the waterworks, mabel puts on her mask again: "it was southeast and pines! they tried to attack us and blew up our statues with dynamite! arrest them!"

dipper simply rolls his eyes as powers gets the handcuffs ready; gideon and pacifica gasp.

"officers, she's lying!" gideon exclaims.

"sorry kids," powers apologizes, "but we trust the gleefuls. and there's nothing short of a miracle that could ever—"

"okay, i'm getting tired of this," dipper deadpans, cutting off the officers. "pacifica southeast and the pines kid are innocent. we were the ones responsible behind the—"

"mason pines you shut your mouth right now!" mabel snaps, momentarily breaking through her façade, before realizing her slight error and giggles it off.

"heh, what i mean to say officers, is that my poor brother must be concussed and clearly has no idea what he's saying—heh—right, dipper?"

"hmm..." he hums, tapping his chin in thought, "i don't think so, i remember someone shoving me... causing me to fall from seventy feet high..."

staring at mabel, dipper gives a smirk her way before swiftly referring to the hand in his front pocket, revealing only a sliver of a small, black, flash drive.

then he leans close, whispering to his sister: "now wouldn't exactly be the best time to put our enemies incarcerated, mabel. don't forget who saved your butt from meeting death just a moment ago."

mabel growls for a moment, then takes a deep breath before she speaks again.

"as a matter of fact... it was all a misunderstanding, officers. gideon and pacifica were saving us," mabel explains, pulling gideon close to her for a peck on the cheek: "my heroes!"

it has been weeks since pacifica had left dipper's place for the last time, and obviously, the heartbroken blonde hadn't heard from the four-eyed dork.

good riddance, she thought bitterly. as if it was any surprise.

but as the days turn from weeks to months, pacifica knew she needed to leave the house. the fluorescent lights and chandeliers in her family mansion wasn't doing much to help her tan... but what to do...

she starts by walking to dusk2dawn, the same darn convenience store where she met her ex-boyfriend.

yeah, smart move there, northwest.

as pacifica reaches for the smile dip, mainly to take a closer look at it, she can't help but to overhear some commotion going on by the register.

"i've heard some strange stories about that old shack, strange and spooky experiments..."

"gosh, i'd pay anything to see what sort of shenanigans you've got going down in there."

no... could it be?

when the curious blonde sets down the smile dip and heads to the front, she couldn't believe her eyes on what's happening before her.

it was a woman. she looked like her ex-boyfriend. similar build, similar facial features. her appearance could easily mistake anybody for dipper, but the fact that this was clearly a woman kept pacifica's mind focused.

what is this lady doing here in gravity falls? why does she look like dipper pines?? and why is she claiming to live where he lives???

"what is your name, you madam of mystery?"

"uh ma—" the woman takes a brief pause, "mason pines. parents thought i would come out a boy, so you can call me dipper."

pacifica gasps, but covers her mouth to avoid drawing attention. she stumbles back, then rushes out of the store.

dipper, where are you?

"when are you going to start opening your gifts? i broke a nail wrapping mine."

as pacifica holds up her taped-up hands with an amused smirk, the pines twins laugh along, picking up their gifts—though none of them were from pacifica.

not that she minded. in fact, she hoped that no one else would watch as dipper got to opening her present. she didn't think it was much special, so it must've been embarrassing in comparison to the other gifts the twins will receive, especially after losing northwest manor to preserve their fortune—but she did put a lot of thought into them.

after selling her parents' yacht and her last pony, she hoped that the presents she prepared for both dipper and mabel would be enough. more than enough, ideally.

"oh, pacifica! i think this one is from you!"

dipper's voice pulls her out from her thoughts. he gives her a big smile as he holds up the gift box, which is evidently, poorly wrapped. everyone else sees this, all of them giving her looks.

unable to take all this attention, pacifica's cheeks flush red, rushing towards dipper before pulling him over to the side of the mystery shack.

"whoa, sorry! i didn't mean to make you feel embarrassed," he immediately apologizes to her, reassuring her that it was never his intention, "if it makes you feel any better, i did so much worse my very first time gift-wrapping."

the two share a laugh, followed by a single nudge from pacifica.

"just open it, dork."

"you don't have to tell me twice."

so, dipper rips his gift open, revealing a book with a written note placed on top of the cover.

something to go with that new journal mabel got for you - paz :)

"you got me a revised, updated copy of anomalous phenomena!? anomalous phenomena was one of the books grunkle ford studied after university! how did you get a hold of one of these?!"

"i'd be lying if i said i didn't ask around for help," pacifica answers, looking a bit bashful, "mabel suggested i talk to ford, and he told me about the book. apparently, fewer and fewer copies of the book get made with every revised edition, so i called in some favours. it did cost me my last pony and my parents' yacht, but after everything you've done for me—i mean, the town—it's worth it."

"pacifica..."

she really has changed, he thought. and to think, this was the same girl who bought her way to keep up her family's fraudulent past, who actively tried to humiliate his sister every chance she got.

it can't be, not since he can't see her that way anymore.

so, dropping the gifts to the ground, pacifica lets out a small yelp as she is caught off guard by dipper's arms wrapping around her; pulling her in for an embrace.

"thanks, paz. i couldn't have asked for a better birthday gift."

returning the hug, she rests her head on his shoulder. "don't mention it, dork."

i'm watching you

at the gleeful manor, dipper and mabel haven't been getting any sleep. not since they've brought will to the edge and emancipated himself from their family.

where will has been tortured day-by-day, he has generously returned the favour to the gleeful twins nightly.

but today, mabel isn't having it.

"ugh! how the hack can we defend ourselves against will if we only have the second journal?! everything we know, will has a way to counter-act it!"

"you know, if you keep pacing like that, you're going to burn a hole into the ground."

mabel stops pacing at her brother's words, noticing how much she actually had been pacing. she groans in frustration, all while dipper smiles into his phone.

"you know, instead of being completely useless, you could help me—considering will's going to be after you, too?"

"i could..." dipper chimes back, "but where's the fun in that?"

"are you implying that staring at those not-so-secret creepy photos you take of the southeast girl is more fun than helping me? your own sister??"

"pacifica saved our lives, mabel."

"you heard her—she's done with you. why don’t you just move on like the rest of the human race?"

but if there is anything to know about the gleefuls, it's that they are indeed stubborn.

“how could i have moved on when i’ve never been infatuated at all?”

as if the timing couldn't have been any more perfect, mabel's phone buzzes.

"besides, i suppose your recovery in getting over gideon has been going spendidly, is that correct?"

“you better watch that mouth of yours since will’s not around to protect it anymore,” mabel threatens, turning away from her twin and picks up her phone.

“looks like my widdle giddy-widdy’s going golfing with—” she shivers before finishing, “pacifica.”

dipper sighs, putting his phone down.

“i’ll call soos to bring the car up front.”

"thanks for visiting the mystery shack! come back soon!"

as dipper waves off the last customer of the day, she goes back inside to close the front door; turning the sign from 'OPEN' to 'CLOSED'.

what she didn't notice, however, was that there was a stranger out in the woods nearby... hiding in the bushes...

wait, it was not just any stranger...

"alright, you con-artist..."

pacifica mumbles to herself as she observes the shop owner as closely as she can, though the windows prove themselves a difficult task for the blonde.

"i don't know what you've done with my—i mean—the real dipper pines..."

the merchant remains on the sales floor, adjusting, tidying, and restocking product. it looks like... she has even more knick-knacks to display, and...

oh god, that does not look fashionable at all...

pacifica shakes her head, getting her focus back.

"i don't even know who you are... but i know you're not good news..."

she looks down at the notebook before her, filled with notes and sketches of some sort...

maybe you're not such a dummy after all... she thinks to herself, reminiscing her former partner, hopefully these parts of your research will be enough to find you...

pacifica reflects on one of her many dates with dipper, this one taking place in her room at northwest manor...

"whatcha working on there, dummy?"

pacifica's question pulls dipper out of his thoughts, turning away from the open notebook before him to face her. he chuckles before answering her.

"you'll see..." he replies as he concludes his notes, "... and there!"

upon finishing, dipper tucks his pen back in his pocket, closes the notebook shut, before handing it to his girlfriend.

"what... is this? you know i can't understand all this anomaly junk like you do..." she says, chuckling afterwards.

"you're selling yourself short, paz," he speaks as he places a hand on top of hers; which is on the notebook. "you're smarter than you realize. when you put your mind into things, you excel at them..."

he then looks back at her, making direct eye contact with his partner.

"... this isn't to say that i want you to get into this life with me... i could never force you to do what you are not interested in... but i have a feeling, paz. a gut feeling... that i may be getting in too deep, that i'm about to discover some truths that will come with dark consequences..."

"dipper... don't scare me like this..."

"sorry, pacifica. i didn't mean to... but it's the truth. this research of mine—i have a feeling that someday, i won't be as careful as i usually am... so when that happens..."

he looks back down at the notebook, causing pacifica to look down as well.

"let this notebook help you. it may not be as detailed as the journals—but this information is still important. i'm going to need someone that i can trust and count on to help me if i get myself in trouble."

she's silent for a moment, taking in her boyfriend's words: "... but you're gonna be safe, right? if this is very serious, maybe candy would be a better—"

"it has to be you, pacifica. i trust you."

as she finished her reminiscence, she looks back up from the notebook to the newly-opened 'mystery shack'—catching the right moment that dipper inputs some sort of code into the vending machine, creating a secret passage for her to enter through.

"i'm going to save you, dipper. i promise."

"so this is it... you're really leaving, huh?"

dipper is in shock to see pacifica northwest standing at the front door of the mystery shack as he is about to leave it for the final time this summer.

she looks at his bags, then back at him as she makes her comment: "i guess gravity falls is about to have two less dorks once again... heh, g-good riddance."

her voice trembles a bit toward the end of her words, clearly saddened by the twins' upcoming departure.

yet, dipper gives pacifica a soft smile in reassurance.

"it was bound to happen sooner or later... but you did it. you finally got rid of us, right?"

she sniffles, but gives a chuckle, "right."

"hey... it's not like we'll never talk again. we have each others' numbers—well, you have mabel's and we have yours. we'll always be a call away from each other."

pacifica's eyes begin to water, trying to keep up her act up: "ha! l-like i'd ever miss you or your weird sister..."

she crosses her arms, turning her head away, but he sees right through her.

pulling her in for a hug, he whispers in her ear.

"i'll miss you too, pacifica."

as a crowd gathers around pacifica, at the final hole, she gets her golf club ready; a determined look written across her face.

from afar, the gleeful twins and observe with two wildly different facial reactions: mabel's being of digust and unimpressed, while dipper looks rather bemused and intrigued.

as the golf ball makes it way through the final hole, it becomes merely inches away from a hole-in-one, which draws further attention from the gleefuls.

so close... so, so close... is it going to—

but right as dipper thinks about it, the ball misses the hole by some centimetres, swerving around it and landing in a muddy puddle.

"pathetic, isn't it, diphead?" mabel taunts, "anyways, it's about time to show that loser how a real golfer plays, right?"

dipper scoffs, "whatever."

with that, the gleeful twins make their appearance known to gideon and pacifica: mabel sucks up to gideon as usual, but he rejects her advances and reacts uncomfortably.

dipper goes back to his antics, as well. he steps closer to pacifica, taking a bow, as well as her hand. however, this time, she quickly pulls her hand back and gives him the cold shoulder.

"what gives, sunshine? c'mon, let me see that contagious, cute smile of yours, huh?"

pacifica doesn't say anything back, but only frowns deeper.

"can't you guys just leave us alone?" gideon asks, breaking the silence, "you two have been enough trouble for us this summer!"

then pacifica finally speaks up, only looking back at mabel: "and apparently now we can't even play golf without you two stereotypical horror-movie murderous magical twins lurking over us!"

mabel gasps in disgust, but dipper is dumbfounded... maybe even impressed?

"oh, it's so on."

oh, dipper... what have you done?

as he wakes up, dipper finds himself in... he can't even begin to describe his surroundings. though, to sum it all up in one word: unnatural. yeah, that's the word.

even though he could try to pin all the blame on her, deep down, dipper knew he had no one else to blame but himself for putting himself where he is right now.

"bill! you lied to me! where does that portal really lead?!"

"oh-ho! looks like mister brainiac finally got smart! let's just say, when that portal's complete—your dimension's gonna know how to party!"

"no, i'll stop you! i'll shut it down!"

"a deal's a deal, pine tree! you can't stop the bridge between our world from coming, but it would be fun to watch you try! cute even!"

good going, dipper! he berates himself in thought, internally facepalming, if you didn't build that dumb portal, you wouldn't even be in this mess!

after lamenting his current situation, dipper thinks of his loved ones, those that he's come to realize—he's just left behind.

pacifica... oh, god—pacifica...and █████... take care of yourselves, please.

in the first month since they've returned home in piedmont, dipper and mabel were stuck in a loop between sleeping and hour-long calls to friends back in gravity falls while bringing their parents into the loop of their family lore as well as going back to school.

sadly, they couldn't make time to talk to their grunkles as much as the likes of wendy and soos, but, given that the stan brothers needed time for themselves to catch up with each other, the mystery twins weren't bothered in the slightest.

in fact, there was so much that was happening—with melody permanently moving in with soos and his abuela to assist her boyfriend's new promotion in the mystery shack, wendy working less hours as she faces another year of hell— high school along with the rest of the group, and the friends of the twins who were closer in age also preparing their return to school.

"so..."

"you can stop smirking, dipstick, we both know i'm not enjoying this."

pacifica orders as she looks at her phone screen, currently on a video call with dipper... on mabel's phone, that is.

"c'mon, public school isn't as gross as you think it is, paz..."

"it's not just that... i just— i don't know how people will treat me... after, yunno..."

"hey," dipper smiles empathetically, trying to reassure her, "we've been over this. candy and grenda promised they'd take care of you and have your back."

"i know, i know..." she waves it off, knowing all that worry to be a waste of energy, "it's all too surreal though... like i'm trying to wrap my head around it. after all, a lot has changed for the northwests since we've had to sell the mansion."

"well, at least you can take this fresh start with a sense of pride, right? you could change what it means to be a northwest. make something honest of yourself and bring truth to your heritage. you were the chosen one!"

pacifica giggles at dipper's clichéd humour, "speaking of... lazy suzan said she'd be glad to take me in. something about needing an extra set of hands at the diner—another pretty girl to reel in some empty stomachs with full wallets."

"she's not getting any younger, right?" he asks.

"more like, she could only handle so many customers at a time."

"you'd make a pretty cute waitress, greasy's won't know what hit 'em."

heat instantly rises in pacifica's cheeks at dipper's sudden comment, immediately taken aback by his words.

although it looks as if dipper didn't fully register what he was saying either, as his facial reaction practically mirrored pacifica's as soon as the words left his mouth.

"you're getting too clever at sucking up for your own good... before you know it, i'll be hearing about a new girlfriend by the time you come back to gravity falls, huh?"

pacifica tucks a lock of her blonde hair behind her ear, revealing more of her face along with her signature purple hoop earring; to which dipper's blush intensifies.

"maybe... it's not a bad thing, right?"

"i will sue you! i will sue you and i will own you!"

gideon, pacifica, and dipper share a victorious look as mabel threatens the lilliputtians from the outside of the gold course. though, those looks were wiped off their faces as soon as the latter turns back to look at them.

"look, i don't have any idea what just happened right now," mabel speaks, pointing a finger at pacifica, "but if you think—"

the guilt-ridden blonde cuts off the angry mage, handing her a turquoise-colored sticker with bubbly text which reads 'i a-paw-logize', featuring a mini illustration of a small—yet adorable—puppy.

"i'm sorry mabel," pacifica apologizes, rubbing her arm in shame, "i should've let you beat me fair-and-square."

mabel looks down at the sticker in her hand, inspecting it with a look of indifference as she raises her eyebrow. then, after a small moment, she looks back up at her arch-rival; reverting back to her casual behaviour, but visibly calmer.

she replies as she pats the sticker on her teal polo, "you're just lucky this sticker looks good on me."

pacifica smiles, a sense of hope and the idea of finally leaving this feud between them in the past. although mabel isn't as joyous, a hint of a grin graces her face, showing that the feeling is mutual.

then, a tap on the former's shoulder along with the sound of someone clearing their throat causes pacifica to turn around, finding the other gleeful twin holding a rose, looking more shy and sympathetic than he's ever been in his life.

"i believe i owe you an apology as well, sunshine," dipper says nervously, "it wasn't right to toy with someone's feelings, especially somebody who's kindhearted as you—"

"can it, gleeful." pacifica cuts off coldly, which is rather out of character for the bubbly blonde.

"you've got to try harder if you think i'm trusting you again."

twenty years have passed...

twenty years since dipper had mysteriously disappeared... the real dipper pines, that is...

and as much as pacifica hated to admit it... the search for her former partner is getting more and more difficult with each passing day.

when she looks at herself in the mirror first thing in the morning, she doesn't even recognize herself anymore, but it wasn't her looks she was thinking about... in fact, she aged gracefully and managed to stay as radiant as ever.

though, as someone who's been self-absorbed in their personal vanity throughout their whole life, pacifica doesn't see the point anymore. what's a couple wrinkles compared to losing someone who actually meant something to her?

so instead of the natural blonde that remains in her hair, or her designer top, pacifica looks into her eyes and sees someone who's stopped living twenty years ago.

in her reflection, pacifica sees nothing more than a shell of who she used to be.

however, today, she decides to try something different. since she's heard word of the new twins that have come to town, descendants of 'dipper' that are staying in gravity falls for the summer.

especially the six-fingered child. something about him reminds pacifica of the man she once dated—but she can't put her finger on it...

she goes to her walk-in closet, rummaging through the deepest corners to pull out... a-ha!

it wasn't anything special, no name to it, unlike her designer top, but the worn-out, slightly oversized cotton orange shirt brought some warmth to pacifica's cheeks as well as a heartfelt smile.

so, she replaces her slim-fitting lavender top with the worn-out shirt. seriously, it's a miracle how this shirt hasn't managed to get any moth holes in it or gradually fall apart after multiple washes...

then again, as long as that shirt's in pacifica's care, she can take care of that shirt for as long as she's willing to.

she has to—because it means that one day, he'll come back, and who knows if he needs something decent to wear.

after a few more months pass since the young pines twins have returned home, christmas has come to both piedmont and gravity falls—and though the feeling is supposed to be merry all around, it's not exactly the case for either dipper and mabel this holiday season.

with the possibility of their parents' separation being more and more of a reality each day, it's also becoming more and more difficult to keep spirits up—even for the shooting star.

but not all hope is lost—because today, the pines family has gone out to do their christmas shopping, and mabel was obviously looking forward to restocking on yarn for more sweaters to knit for her friends and family back in oregon.

dipper on the other hand, was stuck. not only did he not have the slightest clue on what to get for the others, but his mind was simply too pre-occupied with his parents' situation to even distract himself by consumerist indulgence.

"hel-lo! earth to dipper!"

the sound of mabel's voice was enough to pull her brother from his thoughts.

"c'mon bro-bro, i'm all stocked on yarn but you haven't touched anything yet... what gives?"

he sighs, clearly not interested in talking about their current familial situation, "i just... don't know what to get anyone. stan and ford are practically neck-deep with treasure, soos and melody are more interested in raising funds to improve the shack, wendy and her family are visiting relatives out-of-town, and pacifica—"

"ooh, pacifica~" mabel teases in a singsongy tone, smirking.

dipper blushes, but continues: "pacifica has everything. well, she lost all her ponies and the yacht after weirdmaggedon, but what do you get someone who has the money to get anything?"

as he crosses his arms, dipper leans back against a nearby wall and sinks down to the ground; bowing his head into his arms as if suggesting defeat.

so, mabel sits down as well, placing a hand on his shoulder: "dipper, you're the smart one here. if i was the one upset about being unable to find the right gift, what would you say?"

he raises his head slightly, giving only a peek at his sister: "i dunno, something about how christmas shouldn't be about gifts, but the people you care about?"

"ding-ding-ding!" she cheers, smiling proudly.

"okay, but it doesn't change anything. stan and ford are probably still out in the middle of the atlantic or pacific ocean or whatever, wendy's not even in town, and everyone else is with their own families. so what does that solve?"

the once bright, encouraging grin on mabel's face begins to falter, disheartened by dipper's sadness.

however, he catches sight of this, beginning to feel worse by his own actions. after all, his sister was only trying to lift his spirits and make him feel better. he told her what had been going on between their parents before they left for gravity falls in the beginning of the summer, and she's been trying to look at the bright side even more than usual.

this christmas might've not been perfect, but mabel was trying to make the most of it... maybe dipper should as well.

"i'm sorry, mabel. i've been too much of a buzzkill. the holidays have just been sucky this year... we've never known our family outside of california, but now that we do, i guess i wish we could've gotten together this year. things haven't been great since mom and dad... yunno... and things aren't getting better..."

"i know, dipper." mabel says, a mix of bitterness and disappointment in her voice.

"—but we have each other. we've had each other our whole lives, so at least there's one thing that can save this christmas from completely being the worst."

mabel sniffles, holding back her tears as she smiles at her brother.

"let's go home, bro-bro... i have a feeling that it'll feel better being there than at the mall."

so, the pines family leave the mall, returning home to rest before dinner. while mabel is beginning to knit sweaters for candy and grenda with the help of waddles, dipper plays dungeons, dungeons, and more dungeons with their father; leaving their mother to cook dinner for the family.

however, beknownst to her children, mrs. pines prepares a dinner that is definitely much more than four stomachs to fill.

as the family is occupied with their own activities, the ring of the doorbell along with a knock at the front door gets the attention of everyone in the household.

"dipper, mabel, could one of you please get the door?" their mother asks, remaining at the stove.

"not it!"

"not it—augh."

mr. pines smiles at his son amusedly, nudging his head towards the door.

"maybe next time, dip."

getting up from the floor, dipper walks towards the front door.

who could it be? he asks in thought, it wouldn't make sense if it was a food delivery, especially when's mom's already cooking.

nevertheless, dipper turns the doorknob, to which he's met with—

"MERRY CHRISTMAS!"

he couldn't believe it.

"grunkle stan?! grunkle ford?! soos?! melody?!"

as their names take mabel away from her knitting, she dashes towards the front; squealing and jumping into the arms of her grunkles.

"you've made it! you really made it!"

dipper, taken aback by his sister's words, asks, "mabel, what are you talking about? they never told us they were coming."

"correction, bro-bro: they never told you they were coming," mabel says, "but actually, they didn't tell me they were coming—not if i was the one to invite them over!"

"what?! what about mom and dad?"

"why do you think mom's been cooking a lot since we got back home?"

the sound of their dad's voice causes dipper to turn around. jaw dropping, his shock intensifies as he realizes that their parents were in it too.

"we totally got you dude!" soos exclaims, laughing with melody, "just look at the look on your face!"

"what about candy? grenda?? wendy???" mabel asks excitedly, tugging on stan's dress-shirt.

"sorry, pumpkin," stan apologies nervously, rubbing the back of his neck, "of course they wanted to come over, but they have their own families to spend the holidays with. i hope you're not too upset, honey."

"besides, you still have one friend who'd rather drop dead than spend christmas with her own family, anyways."

as the four visitors step aside, another familiar face is revealed to be in their company.

same old blonde bangs and bouffant, same atlantic eyes, but in place of her signature purple eyeshadow, she wears silver with a subtle red to frame her eyelids paired with a slightly-muted matte red lipstick. instead of her diamond-shaped earrings, are diamond-encrusted snowflakes, her classic purple outfit replaced with a lake foam green chiffon dress stopping at the knee with a fur wrap that is white as snow, finally completing the look with a pair of pumped-up silver louboutins (remember, pacifica is less rich, not flat-out broke).

"pacifica?" dipper says, his cheeks turning into a very faint pink.

"lied to my parents that i was going to the bahamas with tiffany, alexis, and tiffany's parents—thank god they make good alibis."

mabel's squeals cut off the blonde as she rushes over to her old enemy-turned-frenemy-turned-friend; the former pulling the latter into a crushing hug.

"AHH! PACIFICA!!" mabel screams in excitement. "i'm so glad you're here with us for christmas!"

"so, you must be the pacifica our mabel and dipper have been telling us about," mrs. pines approaches, rubbing her hands off on a kitchen towel, "i've heard a lot of things about you."

the child's eyes widen, immediately turning bashful: "um, more good things than bad, right?"

"of course," mr. pines answers, "we knew mabel would take a liking to you, but dipper? well, i—"

"okay!" dipper intervenes, laughing rather too loudly for comfort. he takes pacifica's hand, leading her into their home. "i think that's enough of that! everyone, come in!"

pacifica giggles at the boy's awkwardness, her cheeks growing a tad warm.

"glad to see you too, nerd."

"my wittle giddy-widdy! i need your help—"

"you're the worst."

and with that, gideon shuts the door, already heading back to the armchair before he hears the same pounding on the front door a second time.

"mabel?! let me answer!" pacifica beams in excitement, causing gideon to shrug and continue to make his way back to the television.

"go nuts," he deadpans.

"hey, mabel!" pacifica waves, smiling brightly, "what brings you here?"

"oh, hey pacifica," mabel replies, instantly losing her enthusiasm, "there's something haunting gleeful manor—"

"it's true, sunshine," dipper says, smiling at her, "if your cousin can't help us, our party could be ruined."

"okay, first of all, you're the worst." pacifica narrows her eyes, glaring daggers at the gleeful brother before turning back to his twin, "the party? you mean the same party your family throws at gleeful manor every year?!"

"yes, this party," mabel answers indifferently.

"hmm..." the blonde hums, tapping her chin in false thought, "i suppose i can convince gideon to help you guys."

"really?!" mabel asks, suddenly beaming.

"i guess..." pacifica draws out in response, "but in exchange, he's going to need three extra tickets to the party."

"what?!"

gideon's attention breaks away from the television once more, returning to the front door to clarify what he just heard. he tugs his cousin's arm, pulling her aside to speak to her in private.

"pazzy, these are the gleefuls! the same pair of twins who tried to kill us earlier this summer?!" he says in a hushed voice.

"but it's tiffany and alexis' dream!" she explains.

the two then turn to pacifica's friends, still by the television.

"DREAM~"

gideon then sighs in defeat, turning back to dipper and mabel.

"you heard her, it's three tickets or nothing."

"aah! i don't understand—what could i have possibly done to warrant this much arrest?!"

today's the day. after twenty years, pacifica had finally done it. she had caught that imposter; resolving the last piece in the puzzle to bring back dipper pines.

stepping outside of the government-owned vehicle, she joins agents lee rianda and nate menville, smiling victoriously as an officer pins the person identifying as 'dipper pines' onto the hood of the car, placing handcuffs onto her wrists.

agent menville takes out a tablet, displaying it in front of the felon, revealing footage of a government waste facility.

"at 0400 hours last night, we've noticed footage of an unknown party stealing three hundred gallons of hazardous waste."

"that's not me!"

pacifica, having just about enough of this con-artist's cover-up, steps up, raising a finger, pushing dipper's chin up.

"don't play dumb, pines. we all know it's you. you're as guilty as stealing that nuclear waste just as much as you're guilty for committing identity theft and causing a disappearance!"

the northwest was by no means, as smart as her ex-partner, but she used her strengths where they were needed.

she had connections. people she knew who specialized in genealogy, the kind of people who could scientifically prove that the apprehended woman before everyone wasn't really the person she claimed to be.

because of this, the evidence made the poor woman all the more incriminating to the government agents; fueling the grounds on which she were to be arrested for.

"miss northwest, you're making a mistake! sure, grauntie dipper might shoplift the occasional sticker sheet here and there, but she wouldn't make herself a threat to national security."

feeling guilty for the confusion and childlike naïvety that the young stanley pines was experiencing, she walks over to him, squatting down to his level and placing a empathetic hand on his shoulder.

"look, hon, these guys may have been watching your grauntie all summer—but i've known about her ever since i've moved here. i know i've been nothing but civil to you ever since you boys have come to town, but what you need to know is that your grauntie is not what she seems."

"you're lying!" stan accuses, pointing a finger up at her. "a-are you?"

"i wish i was... but the truth is... uglier than i'd like to talk about."

A/N: that's the end of the first part! if you want more, don't worry! i have a lot more coming! unfortunately, i reached the limit of 30 photos per post, so i'm going to have to make this a two-parter! basically, what i wanted to do here is work on three arcs in one! the thing that i really love about gravity falls, really comes down the endless possibilities! i've heard so much about the reverse falls au, but the relativity falls au is also brand-new to me. also, when it comes down to it, i really am just a sucker for multiverses (one of my first gravity falls fanfics was a crossover between this show and rick and morty—it was for a creative writing class in high school). i'm not sure if i'm 100% certain if i'm going to post the second part, because if anything, this was mainly me yapping about how i see dipcifica becoming official in not just the canon universe, but also the other au's i've included here. but if this turns out to be interesting for you guys, i might as well try to finish it.

in the meantime—please please please tell me what you think of this! i wanna know about your guys' interpretations of dipcifica in both canon+other au's! or maybe just other au's in general, since there are slightly different interpretations in both relative and relativity falls... i noticed that i've had more fun writing relativity falls, probably because that au is more new to me than reverse falls...

now that i'm yapping here, i gotta cut this short and get into the next part of this... fic?

and if you actually read through all this and got to this part—thank you so much :') it's been fun writing this so far, especially since this has heavily distracted me from the pain of my wisdom teeth extractions.

[cranberryjuice-posts]

Hi!!!!!

I need some more protective Clarisse kind of angst in my life. Maybe something when it’s not an established relationship, but it’s obvious Clarisse wants R. But since Clarisse isn’t doing anything about it R just goes on oblivious. Until one of Clarisses brothers starts hitting on R doing the bonfire. Clarisse comes up angrily and stills R away but then reader is mad. Anger confession core pls. Feel free to make it your own. I love your writing!

- my flower -

Pairings - Clarisse La Rue x Fem! Reader

An - im struggling so fucking much writing fics rn 😭😭 my recent works haven’t really been the best and I’m sorry abt that I’m just having major writers block rn

Beauty was an important thing at camp. Being beautiful brought all sorts of things, from an extra s’more at the bonfire to having charmed guys around camp to do your bidding.

Charming guys wasn’t just the limit however: which is how clarisse found herself in your cabin watching you model different cut up camp shirts.

“What do You think of this one?” You asked wearing a shirt you had cut into a halter top. Posing yourself in-front of a mirror you hadn’t realized the daughter of ares over looking your curves and chest in the top.

“I think it looks just as fine as all the other shirts you showed me” she rolled her eyes leaning back on your bunk. You shot her a dirty look while mumbling something under your breath.

Taking the shirt off you tossed it in clarisses general direction. “You are the worst person to ask for clothing advice I swear” 

“First of all I know a lot about clothing”

“You wear camo military pants”

After a moment clarisse threw your shirt back at you causing you to laugh. Rummaging around through a pile of cut up shirts you eventually grabbed one that was off the shoulders.

Throwing it on and looking at it critically you just shrugged your shoulders. “This is Fine i guess”

“Thank god�� Clarisse complained (much to your dismay) standing up, placing a hand around your waist she gestured her hand to the door. “Now can we please go to dinner”

You shook your head following her out. Breaking free from clarisse once you arrived to the dining hall, she kept her eyes on you.

Everyone knew she liked you, everyone also knew she wouldn’t do shit to ask you out but would beat down anyone else who tried to.

——

“Clarisse” silena tilted her head while rolling her fingers on the table beside the curly haired girl. Receiving a harsh stare the daughter of Aphrodite just smiled.

Sitting down beside clarisse , she took a moment to observe how the ares kids behaved. Half the table was arguing while the other half was debating up coming camp events and how to win them, though Henry a newer member to the cabin was over at your table. Sitting beside you and well to put it bluntly, flirting with you.

Silena looked back at clarisse. Having to resist laughing as she gave a hateful glare to her brother. “Who the hell does he think he is” she muttered under her breath. “I mean honestly how does he think he even stands a chance with her” sitting up straighter clarisse scoffed.

“Maybe he’s just trying to find a relationship here at camp” silena softly teased.

“He should already know that she’s off limits though”

“Is she though? You’re not dating her”

Silena had a point. You weren’t dating but still she didn’t want anyone else to be with you. As much as clarisse wanted to love you she couldn’t, take a look at her. She was known as the camp bully, arrogant and with the amount of pressure she received from her father clarisse knew she couldn’t contain her anger well and would ultimately lash out on.. clarisse didn’t want to think about that.

“I don’t need your smart ass mouth silena” pushing her plate forwards clarisse quickly mad her way out of the table.

——

It made her sick how causally you flirted with Henry. Crossing her arms she didn’t even bother paying attention to the bonfire, rather clarisse was more focused on you.

Your laugh, your hair, you. All things she knew Henry didn’t or couldn’t appreciate like her.

Once she saw him leading you away towards the woods most likely to make out. That was her final straw.

Making her way over to where you were clarisse grabbed Henry by his shoulder and shoved him back. “For fucks sake clarisse— what’s wrong with you”

“I could ask you the same question who do you think you are flirting with my girl”

“Your Girl? Pfft as if clarisse you wish she was yours”

Quickly stepping between the siblings you tried to deescalate the situation. Placing a hand on clarisses chest with the other on Henry’s arm you were starting to tell that the woman before you wasn’t going to back down anytime soon.

The two continued their argument, throwing petty insults at eachother. You let out an aggravated sigh before grabbing clarisses Hand dragging her away.

—

Quickly finding the ares cabin, you threw the door open before forcing clarisse in. Taking a moment to collect yourself you let out a deep breath.

Finally facing clarisse you held your hand up before she could speak. “What.. the fuck is wrong with you”

“Henry was being a creep”

“Not every guy I go off with is a perv!”

“Yeah but if their from my cabin they sure as hell are!”

The argument continued to grow louder and louder. Clarisse was determined to prove she was right and you the same.

“Why do You Care if I want to make out with someone? Every time I show Interest in someone you are always on my ass”

“Because nobody actually deserves someone like you!” She moved some your way. She tried to make her stance show that she was innocent, that she was right, and it pissed you off even more

“What is that even supposed to mean” scoffing you shook your head looking away. “And why in what situation did you think it was ok to call me your girl?! We’re not dating clarisse”

“But we could be!” She shouted back. The room went quiet.

You furrowed your eyebrows confused, now realizing how close both you and clarisse were it flustered you. “Clarisse do you like me” you mumbled.

She just nodded, huffing you wrapped your arms around her. Hugging her tight you spoke into her neck. “You’re the stupidest person at the camp I swear”

Pulling back and placing a hand over her mouth to keep her from responding; you tilted your head up softly kissing your hand. “I’m going back to my cabin. And tomorrow morning I expect you to be at the door ready to ask me out got it”

She nodded her head once again. “Good” you pulled your hand back but not before patting her cheek. Leaving the ares cabin clarisse walked to her bunk in shock, with how fast everything had moved it didn’t click in her mind that she now had a girlfriend.

———

Clarisse - so do You want to go out with me

YN - no

Clarisse - oh.. I Just thoug—

Yn - yes Dummy I want to go out with you 😭😭

[msnmnt]

Whispers Of Regret

Notes: this is my first time attempting to write angst, I hope it’s okay. Mason is a little bit of an arse 🫣 but all ends well, I promise 🥰 Feedback is welcomed as always 🤍

You ran your hands through your hair, sighing at the way your curls already fell flat. You slipped your shoes on before tugging down at the bottom of your simple black dress, internally criticising everything you saw in the reflection that mirrored back at you. It was your trusty go-to outfit that cinched you in at all the right places and cut off high enough to show off your legs, but not even that could make you feel good about yourself tonight.

You had practically ransacked your wardrobe and your hair that you had spent so long curling had taken the brunt of your many outfit changes, having flattened due to you pulling on and off an endless amount of dresses. Three different shades of lipstick had been applied and wiped off, and when the clapse of your favourite necklace broke in your hand, you wanted nothing more than to just get into your pyjamas and head to bed.

But you couldn't. You had promised Mason you would join him for Ashley’s birthday, one of the trainers at the club who Mason had became friendly with recently. You didn’t want to let him down so with that in mind, you took a deep breath and tried your best to compose yourself.

It had been a rubbish day at uni. Hell, it had been a rubbish week. You had lost track of how many assignments you had started and were yet to complete, you seemed to have more classes than ever and before you were feeling mega stressed about it all.

And to top it off, you had came home to find your boyfriend in an even worse mood than you.

You sympathised with him, of course. The past few weeks Mason had spent more time at the training ground than he had at home in an attempt to get his fitness back up, and he was very obviously shattered. You hadn't seem him much during the whole week, so when you came home to find his car in the driveway you were looking forward to a good cuddle before you had to head out. For him to ask how your day had been. Maybe even a little kiss for the first time that week. Anything.

But when he had uttered the quietest "Hi" when you walked into your longue, making no attempt to even look up at you, you knew he was in another one of his moods.

The pair of you had got ready in silence, tension thick in the air. You tried to put on a fake smile, attempting to look on the bright side. If Mason was going to be in a foul mood at least you could spend the evening with your girls. You had become close with Ashley’s girlfriend, Daisy, and you were looking forward to meeting some of her friends and hopefully being able to drink your crap week away.

You headed out of your en-suite and into the bedroom to find Mason led on your shared bed, tapping away on his phone, clearly engrossed with something that was far more exciting than you. He was dressed nicely in his jeans, a smart top and a big oversized shirt jacket, but his trainers on the crisp white duvet cover that you had only changed last night made you roll your eyes.

Right on queue, Mason finally pried his gaze away from his phone to catch you looking unamused at him. Even after being together for years, Mason’s compliments were always sure to give you a little boost, no matter how rubbish you felt. You had a tiny bit of hope that he might compliment you, but your heart twinged when he looked back down to his phone as it pinged.

“Think you could drop the attitude at some point this evening?”

Your heart sunk to your tummy at his words and a lump formed in your throat. Your eyes stung as you tried to fight back the tears that were threatening to spill, blinking them away.

“What?” You asked, voice small and quiet, asking him to repeat himself to make sure you had heard him right.

You hadn't been strangers to a few arguments over the years; just usual bickering between couples. But the worst Mason normally did was give you the silent treatment, short and blunt replies, taking himself to your home gym to let out some stress.

He had never spoken to you like that before.

“I said, are you going to drop the attitude? I don’t appreciate it and I certainly don’t think my friends are going to enjoy you scowling at them like you’ve been doing to me for the past hour.”

You were in complete disbelief at the words that left his mouth, and even more so the way he seemed so unphased by it. He locked his phone and got up off the bed, heading to leave the room.

You just stood there still in shook and Mason turned around to look back at you.

“Well? Are you just going to stand there or are you coming?” He checked his watch, mumbling under his breath. “You’ve already made me late, as usual.”

You wanted to give him attitude back. You wanted to tell him where to shove it. But you didn’t have the energy to argue any more, so instead you just followed him over to the door as you headed out of your house without saying another word to each other.

-

You hadn’t seen Mason since the moment you arrived at the club. He had wandered off as soon as he saw some of the boys, and luckily the girls had came over to you, not even having a chance to pick up on the tension between the two of you before a drink was in your hand.

The earlier events stayed in the back of your head, but you actually managed to let your hair down a little, enjoying yourself as you got to know Daisy's girlfriends before gladly joining them all on the dancefloor and momentarily forgetting about your troubles.

"Do you want another drink, y/n?" Daisy asked and you looked down to your glass that you hadn't even noticed was empty.

"That's okay, I'll get these!" You shouted over the music, taking the pair of your empty glasses to the bar before ordering another round of drinks.

The barman took your order and was fixing your drinks up when out the corner of your eye you saw Mason strolling up to the bar. You turned your body to the side slightly, as if that may prevent him from realising it was you.

No luck, you jumped back around when Mason clanged his empty bottle down onto the bar.

“Are you going to ignore me all evening?”

You finally faced Mason, but he was just looking straight ahead, not interested in paying you too much attention.

“I could say the same to you.” You replied, making Mason scoff.

“You couldn’t wait to get away from me as soon as you got here.”

“Could you blame me?!” You huffed. “You didn’t even tell me I looked nice tonight."

You practically heard him roll his eyes and he shook his head. “I tell you how beautiful you look all the time, y/n.”

“I’ve been lucky if I’ve got a hello off you this week, Mason!” You exclaimed over the booming of the music, completely snapping now. “I know things are tough for you at the moment but I’ve not exactly had the best week either.” You tried to level with him, but he just shook his head.

“It’s not quite the same though, is it?” He regretted the words as soon as they left his mouth, not meaning for them to come out how they did.

“Of course. My menial life and my pathetic problems are far too normal to ever compare to yours, right?” You asked sarcastically.

“Y/n, you know that’s not what I meant and if you’re going to twist my words-“

“I’m not twisting anything!”

“Look, forget it. Just go back to scowling me from across the dance floor and ranting to the girls about what a horrible boyfriend I am."

You stood there totally gobsmacked as Mason walked away, not even bothering to wait for his drink.

-

The girls had gone for a rest from dancing and had gathered together in a booth. You tried your best to slip yourself in without causing a fuss, but Daisy noticed there was something wrong straight away.

"Hun, are you alright?" She said hushed, not wanting to draw attention to you.

You gave her a smile but she could tell from how it didn't quite meet your eyes that something was up.

"Where's our drinks?" She questioned, not really concerned about the whereabouts of her drink but rather what had happened to clearly upset you.

You were no longer in the mood to party or even let off any steam. You were exhausted from your shit week and arguing with your boyfriend, so much so you just wanted to go home, curl up in bed and be on your own.

“I’m actually not feeling too good - I think I’m just a little run down from uni.” You tried to cover up the best you could when you noticed the other girls all listening in.

“Yeah, you sound a bit sniffly, babe.” Eva, one of Daisy's friends replied and you gave her a sympathetic smile, pleased to have played it off.

“I think I’m just going to head home.”

“You can’t go on your own at this time. I’ll come with you.” Daisy interrupted.

You shook your head. “No, I don’t want to ruin your evening.” You smiled, trying to make the girls not feel bad. “I’ll be safe, I’ll call Mason’s driver to come pick me up.”

After double and triple checking you were sure you’d be okay on your own, the girls waited till you had got in the car that they recognised before they headed back into the club, and you headed on your way home.

-

You sighed to yourself as you entered your house, your heels clipping against the wooden floor as you turned the heating on, cursing yourself for not having left it on before you went out.

You took your time getting unready, using your expensive cleansers and creams that you saved for best to try and give yourself a bit of a pamper to make yourself feel better.

After stripping off your dress, you changed into some pyjama bottoms before you begrudgingly slipped on one of Mason’s hoodies, opting for warmth.

Feeling marginally better, you hummed to yourself as you headed back downstairs, deciding to fill your hot water bottle up to have with you in bed to help you stay warm. You doubted Mason would be back anytime soon, anyway.

Once the kettle was boiled, you unscrewed the cap and begun to pour the hot water in. What you weren’t expecting was for the front door to slam, creating an almighty thud and causing you to jump, the hot water spilling straight from the kettle and onto the skin of your hand.

You yelped, dropping the kettle as the sting became more and more intense.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” You yelped, knocking the cold tap on and quickly sticking your hand under it.

As the burning sensation took over, you couldn’t hold yourself together anymore, bursting into tears as you struggled to hold yourself up at the sink, the burn causing jolts of pain to shoot up your hand.

Unbeknownst to you, Mason had came storming through the hallway, checking in the living room where there was no sign of you. He heard the water running so he headed into the kitchen, his brows furrowing at the noise he could hear till he could make out it was you crying.

He rushed to find you, practically running into the kitchen where he saw you stood there, tears streaming down your face as you sobbed your heart out, the cold tap still pouring water as it cascaded all down your hand which was now red.

“Baby, shit, what’s happened?” Mason rushed over, stopping infront of you to try and release what had happened before he touched you.

“B-burnt my h-hand.” You managed to mumble out between sobs, finally letting yourself go as you full on sobbed, feeling majorly sorry for yourself.

Mason’s gaze turned to your hand, guiltily swallowing as he spotted your blistering skin. His tummy flipped as he spotted the fluffy hot water bottle that he had bought you at Christmas on the worktop.

“Oh, y/n. Oh, baby.” He cooed. “Are you unwell?”

You shook your head. “I was just c-cold and I assumed you wouldn’t be coming home anytime soon.”

Mason felt physically sick at the thought of you being upset and in your big king sized bed all by yourself, just your hot water bottle to keep you warm. The fact you were wrapped up in his hoodie only made him feel worse.

You pulled your hand away from the water, wincing in pain as you attempted to wriggle your fingers.

“Hey, you need to keep it under here for a bit longer.” Mason’s voice was low and stern, his hand gently wrapping around your wrist and slowly guiding yours back under the tap. You groaned in pain as the freezing water hit your skin once more, sobbing as you reluctantly kept it there. Mason’s thumb gently stroked over your wrist as he held your hand in place. Once he was convinced you weren’t going to move your hand he let go, his brown eyes now soft as they took in how much of a mess you were. His demeanour was a stark difference to how it had been earlier, his shoulders relaxed, his eyebrows knitted together slightly and his bottom lip sticking out slightly at seeing his baby in pain.

“I’m so sorry, y/n.”

You sniffled, attempting to stop crying. “It’s not your fault I’m clumsy.” Technically it was his fault for slamming the door, but he wasn’t to know and you couldn’t bear to bicker with him anymore.

“Was it from me slamming the door?” Mason asked, guilt settling in. “Did I scare you?”

“No.” You lied, finally facing Mason and the look on his face told you he knew you were lying. “It just scared me a bit, okay? Made me jump.”

“Oh, darling.” Mason ran his hand through his hair. “I’m so sorry, I’ve been such a dick…”

“It’s fine, Mase.” You replied, not having the energy to fight any more.

“It’s not fine, it’s not fine at all, y/n. I shouldn’t have taken it out on you, I shouldn’t have spoke to you how I did. It’s not fair and I’m so, so sorry, baby.”

You offered him a small smile, briefly taking your hand away from the water to try and straighten it out from how stiff it had got in the cold, before putting it back under when Mason gave you a stern look.

“I haven’t exactly been in a good mood either.” You offered to try to in attempt to make him feel a little better but he just shook his head.

“That doesn’t matter. You’re my princess and I should be treating you like it.” His honey eyes started welling up with water as he thought about how he had spoken to you earlier. “I'm so fucking sorry, baby. I've been the worst boyfriend in the world recently and I’ll make it up to you, angel. I promise.”

“I’ll hold you to that.” You tried to joke, relieving some of the tension.

Once Mason was satisfied that you had left the burn under the water for long enough (and you could no longer feel your fingers from how cold the water was), he helped you carefully dab your hand dry before scooping you up in his arms, making you squeal in surprise.

"Mason!” You giggled as he carefully moved your arms to look around his neck, forcing you to look up at him. His face was full of worry still and you could tell how awful he felt. "What're you doing?"

"I told you, treating you like a princess." He begun to head up to your bedroom, effortlessly carrying you in his arms. "And I don't think princesses should have to walk, should they?"

You couldn't help by grin as Mason carried you to your bed, carefully placing you down onto your kingsize bed and pulling back the covers.

You settled yourself down into bed, attempting to get comfy. "Do princesses deserve food bought to them in bed?"

You felt relieved when you finally saw Mason not looking so tense anymore, allowing himself to chuckle. "You really are going to milk this for all it's worth aren't you?"

"Uh hmm." You smirked. "I think I would like… a cheeseburger."

Mason raised his eyebrows as if to ask if you were serious, but when you begun to pout, he soon got his phone out.

"Cheeseburger will be on its way soon." He said and you giggled contently watching him tap away on his phone, trying to find somewhere to deliver to you at such a late hour.

True to his word, it wasn’t long before Mason was coming back up the stairs with a brown bag full of greasy food.

The pair of you ate and Mason wouldn't stop apologising no matter how many times you told him to stop.

When he noticed you yawning, he pulled the duvet back and you repositioned yourselves to get comfy. Mason had slipped his clothes off so he was left in just his boxers, and when he patted his bare chest you couldn't resist as you tucked your body into his side and snuggled up into him.

"I'm glad you came home, you're much warmer than my hot water bottle." You cuddled even closer to him, your nose grazing up against his chest hair.

Mason's heart broke at the thought of you thinking he wouldn't come home to you. No matter how bad an argument you had, he would never let you go to bed without making up, and he was upset you thought otherwise.

You hear him sniffle and he moved one of his arms from holding your body, and you were completely taken aback when you saw him quickly wiping away a tear.

"Mase what's wrong?" You attempted to sit up but Mason just shook his head and returned his arms to their position, holding you even tighter to him.

"I know I keep saying it but I really am so fucking sorry, y/n." His voice was torn as he whispered out yet another apology.

"I know, Mase. I know." You replied. "I'm sorry too, but we're okay now, yeah?" You tried to comfort him but you could tell he was still beating himself up about it all.

"You actually thought I wasn't going to come home?" He asked, his voice quiet and full of vulnerability.

"Well... yeah." You mumbled out, unsure if it was the right thing to say. "I thought you might've stayed at Ashley's or something."

"God I really have behaved like an asshole." Mason cursed to himself, so you held his face in your hands, his big glossy eyes looking into yours.

"Listen to me, Mase. I know you didn't mean it, couples argue babe, we're fine now." You offered him a smile, attempting to comfort him.

"I never want to lose you, y/n." Mason said, emotion thick in his voice.

"And you won't." You told him sincerely. "Let's just agree to talk more, okay? No more giving each other silent treatment and making snide comments, not talking about our emotions. Just being more open and honest, okay?" You raised your pinky and he managed to smile as he looped his with yours.

"Promise."

"Anyway, I’m wuite looking forward to breakfast in bed in the morning." You tried to break the tension with your cheeky comment.

"Who's bringing you that then, darling?" Mason asked pretending to have no clue.

"My wonderful boyfriend who was persistent he was going to make up being a dickhead to me." You replied, trying to make light of the situation.

"Anything for you, my princess."

[hazelfoureyes]

A Doe in Fall (Part 3)

⟢HumanAlastor x FemaleBurlesquerReader - A Doe in Fall

Part 1 - Pretty in Red smut💦 Part 2 - Liar smut💦 Part 3 - A Tragedy smut💦 Part 4 - Enough Part 5 - Too Much Part 6 - Learning smut💦 Part 7 - Recognition smut💦 Part 8 - Trust sexual 🥵 Part 9 - Shiny Things Part 10 - Good Deeds Part 11 - Caught Part 12 - Eddie

Part 3 A tragedy 

So enraptured with Alastor, you forgot how you left work on Saturday. Tommy didn’t forget. And he made sure you remembered. Unfortunately for him, and fortunately for you, your paramour made a habit of helping quicken karma’s balancing act.

「warnings/promises: immediate physical assault (let’s be up front about that), allusions to sexual assaults having happened in the past to non-reader characters, HumanAlastor x FemReader, penetrative sex, Protective Alastor, bruises, somewhat graphic descriptions of murder, mentions to coerced prostitution, sex near a corpse (words that have the FBI watching me), stabbing, knife, bad burlesque names, gambling, my own new HC for the Radio Demon’s origins, another deer reference thanks to @n-after-me , chin quivering, Tommy doesn’t know French and it shows, posted early for @jazzmasternot, wrath」

Minors DNI 🤺

You walked into the theatre for rehearsals with a pep in your step, body still humming. It was like the usual adrenaline rush Alastor brought couldn't fade this time.

But it did, when Tommy grabbed you by the hair out of your makeup chair and threw you into the wall. 

You couldn’t react, head ringing after it left a small indent in the drywall. Unlike before, you didn’t try to stand. Make him work for his second hit. And he did. Leaning down he yanked you off the ground by your arm and dragged you to your feet. 

“Do you think you’re funny?” He shook you, you were sure you could feel your brain jostle. It was rhetorical, but you replied anyway.

“No, Tommy.”

“No. Exactly.” He backed you up onto the make up table, head pressed into the mirror. “Mr. Wilson was not happy. He pulled his contribution. I know you don’t have that kind of money. Do you know what you’re gonna do?”

His fingers dug into your cheeks, “No.” You genuinely didn’t. He was talking to you like you had been in the loop on whatever it was he had been doing on the side. All of this was as shocking to you as your actions were, apparently, to him. 

“You’re gonna take whatever meetings I make until that money is back.” He let go of you and turned to leave but changed his mind. Coming back, he swung his fist and clocked you on the left side of your face.

You didn’t see it, but you heard the other girls running and pulling Tommy off of you, yelling and pleading for him to calm down.

“I worked really hard for you!” He shouted, jerking his shoulders out from under the hands of the other performers. What was he talking about? You hadn’t discussed any of this, asked for any thing from him. “I waited for a high roller for you. Real classy guy. Just wanted a private show! That was it!” He spit, “No, every Tom, Dick, and Harry is welcome now to ask for your time.”

You just held your face, unsure if you had the right makeup to hide the bruise before stage call. 

“Well?! Say you’re sorry.”

You considered not saying anything. No response. When you looked at him, you could see the half a dozen other girls staring back at you, just say it. We have to rehearse.

“I’m sorry.” Eyes cast to the floor.

“For what?”

It hurt when you rolled your eyes, “For being ungrateful?” 

He shoulder checked a few girls on the way out. A couple came to you.

“He’s got some gambling debt, he’s just using us to get ahead.”

“I have some stuff to cover that up for tonight.”

“He usually cuts us in.”

Tears stung your eyes, you were angry and humiliated. You could work elsewhere, with a little luck. Take a job at a diner out of the area where no regulars would stir up trouble. Maybe leave until Tommy got his debts paid off or whatever was motivating this recent streak of cruelty. But you didn’t want to run away. No one applauded waitresses. Maybe if you made yourself as unattractive as possible, no one would request you. Dirty your teeth, talk about other men, speak crudely. 

“What exactly was he talking about?” you asked no one in particular. The girls were quiet for a beat.

“Well ya know, private shows for clients who can afford it.” High pitched and nasal, Florence spoke as she searched her make up station.

“That’s it?” Incredulous.

“Sometimes. You know how it is… woman left alone in a room with a man who has too much money or ego or drink. Doesn’t always stop at a dance.” Minnie had much more experience than you, “It isn’t our jobs. It isn’t normal. But, well, ya heard about New York right? They’re trying to make burlesque outright illegal…”

“Gotta enjoy the art while it’s just misunderstood.” Florence wiped down your mirror before setting her supplies down for you. “Come on, let’s get you fixed up.”

By the time patrons began to stream in, you had blood staining the white of your left eye. Nothing you could do, but maybe at a distance it wouldn’t be noticeable. The bruise under your eye from his fist was easy enough to cover. The contusion from where your right cheek hit the wall was a little harder. 

Luckily, the stage offered a buffer of space and the rest of the room was dark. 

During your show, you tried to keep your eyes moving so the red sclera never stayed in one place too long. For the first time, the cheers did nothing for you. You felt your chin quiver, fighting back tears. You wanted to scream, to tell them to hate you and leave. Stop fucking clapping.

Ruth was naturally the first to come to you after your performance, “Want me to do the tour with you? Arm in arm around the hall.”

You took her up on the offer. It lightened the load, her taking charge of the conversation when people approached or bought you drinks. Luckily the bartender always poured the performers weak cocktails and watered down liquor to keep their heads on straight. 

Ruth’s companionship afforded you precious time to plan, to consider how quickly you could find new work or at least a way out of this.

“What a treat. Two for one. Can I buy you both a drink?” 

Ruth turned first to greet the customer, “Ooh yes sir! Gin and tonic, please and thank you. Autumn?” Your stage name drew your attention back to the world, turning finally.

“Alastor.” It fell from your mouth like a lead balloon.

He smiled down at you, his hand offering a little wave, “Hello. Surprise.” 

Your face fell, a frown pulling down your chin. It took you too long to recover, batting your eyelashes and turning the corners of your lips up unnaturally. 

“So you do have a beau!” Ruth slapped your arm, “I’m Skye, Skye Scraper. Pleasure to meet you, Alastor.” She extended her hand, Alastor planting a kiss on the back of it, concealing his smile at the name.

You tried to keep your eyes on the floor, head turned slightly away from him to obscure the neon sign of an eye shouting, ‘Weak!’

Unfortunately for you, Alastor wasn’t an oblivious man. Unless he was dancing or drunk. “May I have a moment alone with her?” Alastor asked Ruth. Ruth looked to you for your okay, and you just nodded. She gave a little nod of her own to Alastor and slinked away. 

“Are you unhappy to see me, dear? Did I overstep by coming by unannounced?” You hadn’t heard him worried before, it pained you. 

“No, no! I am… so happy to see you. I just had a long day.” You scanned the room for the darkest area to bring him. A booth would be best, you could keep him on one side of you. You gestured with a nod of your head.

“Ah, I kept you out too late.” Alastor didn’t move.

“Not at all, come on let’s sit down.” You reached back for his hand without looking at him, but when you pulled he still didn’t move. He remembered the way you pulled at the hand of that man in the alley the first night you met. Desperate to escape somewhere. 

“Is there a reason you won’t look at me?”

Lie. 

“Uh, no, I’m just embarrassed about this heavy stage makeup.” 

Alastor paused, hand slipping from yours to adjust his sleeves. It was a nervous action, an attempt to self soothe, but you didn’t know that. “I should have asked before coming.”

“Alastor, it’s not…,” you kept your eyes down at your hands.

“Then look at me.”

Would he think you were incapable of protecting yourself? His pity would kill you. Perhaps he would decide a second rate burlesquer wasn’t worth making time for anymore.

You could intentionally wound him, say you don’t want to see him so he leaves. But that sword was double edged and you weren’t sure you’d survive that either. You weren’t making it out of this.

You finally looked at him. He leaned in, “What happened to your eye?” A slender finger gently tilting your chin upward.

Lie. 

You thought too long for an answer. Why were you getting worse at lying? It used to be one of your best shields and swords but now you were so slow on the draw you were left defenseless. Vulnerable. His hand took yours, gently pulling you into the lobby and through the glass doors of the theatre.

Under the bright lights of the marquee and the street lamps, Alastor inspected your face. He reached into his pocket for his handkerchief, wetting it in his mouth before wiping the makeup off of your under eye.

“Alastor, people are staring.” 

His eyes fell down, soft hands lifting your arm where a bruise was already formed. You hadn’t noticed that one.

“What happened?” He wasn't looking at you when he said it, instead cautiously wiping the makeup off your cheeks in search of more marks.

“The truth or wh-“

“Always. Never give me anything else.”

You sighed, and explained, “Tommy, the manager, he’s been shifting tactics for bringing in money because he owes some big bads a lot of debt. Private shows with performers that sometimes get hands on…,” his hands stopped moving but his eyes didn’t meet yours, “I never asked to be included in it. I wouldn’t do it. I was rude to a man Tommy introduced me to and I ran off Saturday. Yada Yada. He got me as soon as I got to work.”

Alastor didn’t reply, just turned on his heels and marched back into the theater. You chased after him, “I don’t need you to fight my battles!” You tried to get in front of him but he walked right past you.

“Not about what you need, dear, it's about what he deserves.” 

Alastor asked the bartender for Tommy, who pointed to the short but stocky man talking to a group of guests. Alastor approached so quickly Tommy didn’t have time to greet him, instead just backing up until he fell ass first into a booth. Alastor boxed him in, one hand on the wall and one on the table, towering over Tommy as he sat.

“I hear you sell dancers by the night.”

You paced the lobby nervously. Would you be fired? What would Alastor say? Would Tommy hit him, too?

He re-emerged, “Come to my car, please.” He didn't stop walking as he said it. 

You followed a few blocks down to his car, parked on the street. He opened the passenger door for you and closed it behind you. You wanted to ask if you were going somewhere, but thought better of it. A tight u-turn, he pulled the car into the side street where you’d first met each other.

Wordlessly he got out of the car, you opening your door before he could. Popping the trunk, he set the folded canvas inside a paper bag. Checking first, he placed it inside one of the tin trash cans. 

You stood, waiting for an explanation.

Finally he stopped and made eye contact with you. “You have a date tomorrow, with me. Bring this to the apartment above the theater before Tommy and I arrive.” Opening your mouth to speak, he didn’t stop to let you add anything. “Preferably near the bed.” He closed the trunk, “Wear red, please.”

You searched his face for some kind of discernible emotion but found none. Those constricted pupils again, an animal staring back at you from behind a pair of glasses. There was no reason to ask him, it was obvious what was going to happen. Did you want to stop it? 

Did you want to see it? Alastor at work?

“Okay. On all the points.” You looked back at the trashcan, “Canvas hidden near the bed. Wear red.”

“The extra clothes can go anywhere out of sight.” He leaned down, kissing your forehead, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Your voice cracked a little, “Wait, you’re leaving already?”

He nodded, “I can’t stay here.” Before getting into his car he turned and added, “Don’t cover the bruises tomorrow. He should see them.”

You nodded in return, “Are you doing this for me?” So quiet you almost hoped he didn’t hear it.

He paused, one leg already in the car and his back to you, “No. I’m doing it for everyone.”

You watched his car light up and leave the alley.

It’s not that you felt abandoned, you felt…. Stranded. You had to go back in there, alone, and put on the normal act but under abnormal conditions. 

So it was happening. You hadn’t seen the first time. Just felt it. You didn’t see the second. You were going to actually see a man die. Not just a man, someone you knew. Someone you used to consider a friend of sorts. Before he got into whatever trouble was driving him to act like a flesh peddler. Could you do it? Could you watch a man be killed? Was that even what Alastor had planned?

Tommy found you the second you were back in the room, hand pressing too hard on the bruises he left on your arm. “You have a meeting tomorrow after your show. If you don’t show up,” he yanked you close, putrid breath of dead teeth you’d never been bothered by before this moment and bad booze assaulting your senses, “I will fucking kill you.”

You almost started laughing, bringing your hand to your mouth to hide your smile. “Okay Tommy.” 

Fuck it. He was going to die anyway, might as well make it a date. 

Ruth saddled up beside you as soon as Tommy was out of earshot, “Look at that smile. Quickie in the alley?”

Disgust, “Jesus, Skye, I was gone like, 5 minutes.” She shrugged. “Why does everyone think — is everyone fucking their daddies* in the side street?” She nodded. “Well, I’m not.”

“Prude.” She joshed before linking your arm in hers again, “We’ve got at least another hour of schmoozing. Tits up!”

Your smile came effortlessly that night, a thrum of excitement keeping you light on your feet. Not excitement for death, but for the very concept of being closer to Alastor. Would you see it happen, in front of you? Or would he have you leave? Either way, you were an active participant with a task list.

He trusted you, even if in a small way. Trust was so rarely given from the people who mattered. Men trusted you often; to be sweet when they tell you they were embarrassed about something, to lie when they ask if you orgasmed, to not steal their cash when they blacked out with their pants still on. Pulling it from strangers was one of your greatest pleasures. But it was easy. You were skilled. 

Yet again, like so often now, Alastor was the exception. He didn’t toss himself at your feet. He stood tall in front of you and on his own terms offered you the things you wanted. You didn’t have to pretend to be demure, you didn’t have sit on his lap in silence and nod and laugh. Just yourself, as much as you could allow yourself to exist in the world. No tricks. If his trust was presented wrapped in a bloodied bow, well, you would thank him dearly and wear the ribbon round your neck like a trophy.

Many men spoke to you, but luckily your participation in conversation wasn’t something they really cared about. As they spoke, your eyes were looking past them and into the future. 

However there was a sense of dread when you lied in bed that night. The excitement of getting closer to Alastor had melted into the fear there was no going back from this. 

Something in your chest stung, a thorn growing from somewhere unknown. Three encounters (that he knew of) and already it seemed your thoughts were more Alastor than yourself. No person had ever made such an impression before. You didn’t like it, but it made you happy. Which is why you didn’t like it. Tying your happiness to another person was a reckless thing to do. You’d seen your mother and half sister both use a man’s attention as a replacement for being happy with themselves and it made them brittle and hollow.

Thinking of what would happen the following night, oddly, you were reminded of losing your virginity. You were a “late bloomer” and were terrified you’d never be you again after. Like something would be taken from you. You fell asleep to that thought, of what you’d lose.

Then you woke, uncharacteristically early, feeling none the bit rested. No dreams. No nightmares. A few seconds of darkness and suddenly it was morning. With the extra time you had you wandered into a department store before going to the theater.

When a sales woman approached you, asking what you were looking for, you were too tired lie.

“A red dress.” You didn’t have the makeup at home to cover your marks, and gave up being worried about it. 

Unfortunately, it seemed it wasn’t so odd of a sight; a woman with a black eye.

“What’s the occasion? Apology dinner?” The woman fidgeted with the hangers while looking at you.

You grimaced, “No, a murder.”

She howled, “You are a hoot! Don’t we wish, huh? Let me pull you some options.”

You put the dress on the top of the paper bag, having hidden it under your make up table the previous night. Your fingers were trembling, applying your makeup needing deep breaths and concentration.

“Ruth, can you do my lips?” You turned and handed her the brush. 

“The eye looks better.” She took your chin in her hand and painted your mouth a pretty shade of red.

“Thank you.” You offered her a smile but she didn't let go, “What?”

“You ever seen a cornered raccoon? Like one got in the house and your mom boxed it into a corner with a broom?”

A nod, yes, actually, you had.

“Who’s got the broom?” She asked. You knitted your brow, not understanding. “Who’s got you in a corner? Is it Tommy?”

You took your chin back, deep breaths. “No brooms. No corners. Just rattled still from last night.” Not a lie, surprisingly. “You thought of a raccoon? Really? Is it because of the eye?”

When you took your bow for the evening and turned to escape the stage lights for the darkness of backstage, you found Tommy leaning just outside the dressing room.

“Get changed, doors unlocked upstairs. Room 504.” 

Grabbing the paper bag you ran through your mental checklist. Wear red, take off your make up, hide the canvas by the bed. An odd to-do list for murder.

The theater had two floors of modest apartments above it, the owners keeping two of the open for the theater’s use. One was for the owners should they ever visit New Orleans, and the other was multi use. Storage and a crash pad for performers or Tommy when he worked late.

The bag crinkled as you hugged it, looking over the small apartment. Boxes, decorations, a modest kitchen and a bed. The bathroom was quite large, a tub and shower head. Was this where the other performers went?  

Why hadn’t anyone said anything sooner? Why didn’t anyone leave yet?

Taking a second, you got to work. You opened the canvas and slid it under the bed, the smallest bit of edge sticking out for easy retrieval. Dizzy with the quickly settling reality of what you were doing, you sat on the floor for a moment. Trying to calm your breathing, you closed your eyes.

The fear of the unknown was suffocating you. There was a possibility Alastor failed and ended up hurt. Or, that he changed his mind and Tommy left you two to just hold hands on the bed for a sex-appropriate amount of time.

You patted your thighs and stood up. No time now for a panic attack. Alastor had a change of clothes in the bag, neatly folded and tied in twine. They were set onto the shelf above the closet.

And finally, yourself. Your dress was on and you stopped to wipe the make up off your face in the bathroom mirror. Still bruised, still nasty. The dress was nice though, carrying some of the weight for your battered mug. Red cotton, sailor neck and little gold buttons down the front. Flashy, brighter than the dark number you usually wore.

Would he like it? Most men looked for how a dress accentuated your curves (or hid them) but you had a feeling Alastor didn’t care so much about that.

You took your seat at the edge of the bed, thin mattress sagging from your weight.

The clock ticked, until finally the door opened and you saw something you hadn’t seen before and knew you’d never see again. Tommy and Alastor.

“Here she is. Autumn, this is Mr. Cerf. He's asked I stay in the apartment, apparently word of your attitude already spread among the upperclass.” Tommy wagged his finger at you in a playful way that was entirely out of place.

“Look at her. Pouting. Not very excited, is she?” Alastor smiled at you, softly. You felt for a second that maybe you entirely misunderstood. He looked calm, normal. Even peaceful.

“It’s always nice when they fight a little. But she won’t cause you any trouble.” Tommy patted Alastor’s back, who immediately shirked away.

“Do you like it when women try to fight you off, Tommy?”

A dry laugh, “Ya know how it is. They gotta act like they don’t like it so people still respect ‘em.”

A hum. Alastor’s smile falling entirely. A shadow settled over his face. “I see. That does make things easier.” He slipped on his short black gloves. “I always tell her she looks lovely in red. She rarely listens to me, but I’m happy to see she did tonight. It’s a special occasion.” 

Once, you thought. You didn’t listen once. 

Tommy nervously chuckled, looking from Alastor then to you, “What?” Alastor grabbed him by the back of the neck, pushing him to the ground and onto his knees. Hand fisted in his hair, knife pressing across his throat. 

Alastor dug his knee into the small of Tommy’s back, “Tommy, I think you owe the lady an apology.” You let your feet find the edge of the canvas and slid it out with a kick. It glided across the wood and stopped where his knees met the floor. 

“I’m sorry! Fuck, I’m sorry.” Tommy was staring at the waxed fabric in front of him. 

You felt your eyes sting with tears, a smile breaking out against your will. “For what?”

“I—,” his eyes searched the room for an answer, your words bringing a pulse of Deja Vu, “It’s about yesterday?” He seemed to relax a little, “Come on. I said sorry. ” Looking back to Alastor. “I didn’t know she had a guy.”

Alastor yanked his head back to look him squarely in his eyes, “Wrong answer.” He pushed him down onto his stomach, “Come on Tommy. I like when my victims fight a little, too.” Sensing the taller man towering over him with the knife, Tommy scrambled onto his back to look at Alastor. Tommy started shouting, “Hey!! Someone!” But there was no one to hear him. That was the beauty of the space he always brought his dates to; it was too loud to hear anyone scream. 

Funny how that works both ways.

Alastor shrugged, “Well that didn’t last long.” As Tommy backed up, trying to get traction on the slippery canvas and failing, Alastor straddled him. Tommy’s hands came up, one pushing against Alastor’s face, the other against the arm holding the knife. Alastor put both hands onto the knife’s handle, staring down into Tommy’s eyes as he inched closer to the man’s neck. “You look scared, Tommy. Are you scared?” 

The other man shouted, eyes trembling as he watched the knife come down.

Alastor pushed through, metal sinking into Tommy’s throat. No pause, he withdrew and sank it again and again. Tommy’s hands fell from Alastor’s face, flailing slightly at his neck before slumping down. He was frenzied, stabbing at his chest and upward with wide eyes. You recognized those constricted pupils. They made sense in this setting. Alastor was panting, taking a second to split the skin from ear to ear in the middle of his melee. 

You brought your knees to your chest, watching the crime unfold. Was this anger for you or truly for everyone? No one ever got so angry for you before, if you could be so conceited as to say this was for you. Your mouth opened and you spoke without thinking, no filter. “You look like an angry God. A jazz demon of wrath.” You smiled, the morbidity not lost on you.

Alastor stopped, frozen as he stared at you. For a second, he had forgotten you were there. He was always alone during these hobbies of his. Until recently. You looked like an angel in red and gold. Had he dyed your heavenly robes crimson? Or had you been made that way?

He dropped the knife, peeling his gloves off and stepping over Tommy’s decimated torso before kicking off his shoes.

You scooted back onto the bed and opened your arms, welcoming a strange after-kill cuddle. Your reward.

Alastor took off his bowtie, then his shirt. It took you a second, not realizing what was happening until he began to unbuckle his belt. “Now?!” 

He nodded, “Yeah.”

“What the fuc— okay,” your hands flew to unclasp your stockings and roll down your panties. You mumbled to yourself, “Jesus Christ.”

As he crawled over you, warm gloveless hands tracing along your legs, hips, waist, you looked at up him with your now dilated pupils, “It’s murder? You need murder?”

He laughed, embarrassing you a little, “No it isn’t that.” His face nuzzled into your neck, “You’d go to hell? For me?” 

You froze, you hadn’t really seen it like that.

“You’d damn your eternal soul,” his hips pressed into you, an unfamiliar hardness there that made you gulp, “just to spend time with me?”

How were you so heated over an erection? A dime a dozen, men practically threw them at women who offered them the slightest smile. Yet feeling him so hard against you, something you had been practically praying for, made you weak. A trembling virgin all over again. 

Don’t lie, he always told you to be honest so you decided to try it out even if it made you feel at risk of harm. Your hands slid up and into his hair, gripping gently, enough to elicit a groan from him, “Well I was worried heaven wouldn’t have jazz, so… yeah.” You had to always say something a little in jest, to hide from the vulnerability of honesty, “This seemed like a better option.” The truth was, if you had to state it plainly, you would dive head first into hell in exchange for his smile. To hear his laugh. To feel his breath over your mouth. You were quite sure hell was more your scene, anyway.

“I’ll be sure to fill your afterlife with jazz every day, dear.” 

How could he make hell sound so sweet?

“It’s a deal.” Fingers playing with his hair, basking in the warmth of skin on skin. 

He leaned up, eyes scanning your face as he always seemed to do in these intimate moments. The feeling spreading down his chest was one wholly foreign to him, one he was struggling to put into his own words. You hadn’t run away. You opened your arms for him even still, welcoming your own damnation in exchange for… affection? Attention? Him? The reason didn’t matter, not to Alastor, and not now to his growing need. You didn’t even push him for more than he wanted to give, not yet needled him for details, secrets, sex. Could you really just be there for Alastor? Take him for what he was and what he wasn’t?

His mouth was salivating at the thought you’d give him anything. Reality was, you already had. His finger caressed the purple welt on your cheek. You were given pain and he returned it ten fold to its owner. A demon of wrath. He felt his cock twitching, underwear tented around him. 

You smiled up at him, wiping a little streak of blood from his jawline, “You look quite pretty in red yourself.”

His head came to rest on your collarbone with a shaky sigh.

Had you said something wrong? 

“Please, you’re already pushing me to my limit.”

Making a show of it, you zipped your mouth and pretended to toss the key. You wanted to reach down and pull off his remaining bit of clothing, to rub yourself against his manhood. But, you weren’t sure if that was something he would appreciate. You didn’t want to ruin his experience, to make him regret offering you something he so clearly didn’t need to give.

He removed his underwear, watching you unbutton your dress and pulling your arms free. Your bra, garter, and stockings were still on. Somehow he found it more scandalous than if you were completely naked.

Your breath was shaking, uneven as the excitement took control of you. There was a not totally unfounded fear you'd black out from hyperventilating.

Alastor lined himself up with your heat and pressed in, making a hard to decipher face as his brow knit up and he bit his lip. You were already so wet, not a hand or mouth needed from him. He wondered if you shared more than an acceptance of justified homicide; your body so relaxed and welcoming to him. 

With a few shallow thrusts, he was fully sunk into you. You may have let out a cry. An emptiness you hadn’t clocked was suddenly gone. Was this what Zeus meant when he said the two souled humans were too powerful and tore them apart to weaken them? 

Was this sex, or love? The word made you nervous. But—- if he offered it to you in both palms, you’d suffocate yourself in his hands.

He began to move in earnest, thrusting in and out slowly. You had expected the frantic moves of a horny virgin. Instead he was moving with control, hips rolling into you like waves gentle and steady where the lake met land, not slamming like many men before him. 

Had it been any other dick, you’d whine and begin moving yourself against it for that needed speed. This was Alastor. Dripping pleasure into your open mouth like a drought-breaking summer shower.

You didn’t recognize your own sounds, already panting and moaning as a warmth spread from the place where his cock was sliding around inside you.

Alastor tried to keep calm. Even when his body was sensitive, he wasn’t used to the mental work needed to fight off his orgasm. Usually he had the opposite issue, struggling to stay focused enough to finish. Mind wandering to more productive chores. 

But you were so wet, so accepting in body and mind. He watched your eyes close, one hand gently clawing at the blankets, the other reaching down to touch his lower stomach every time he thrust back in. For the first time in a very long time you really truly wanted to remember who was at the other end of the dick you were enjoying.

Languid moves. Swollen cockhead hitting the bottom of your walls, the top, the end, pushing still a little further.

“I’m sorry,” Alastor leaned down over you, kissing at your jawline, “For making you wait so long for so little.”

His rhythm picked up then, burying himself deeper into your sopping cunt and dragging out enough to pull back that quiver of his release.

You shook your head, lips tingling. “Nothing little here.”

He attempted a laugh, losing his breath. He wanted to last longer, to make the experience worth your while but he could feel you dripping down his balls and it weakened him with alarming efficiency. Finally the frenzied speed you witnessed earlier was turned to you, you brought your legs up, holding at his sides. “Darling I need to-,” he moaned into your ear.

“Please stay.” You clung to his neck, nails grazing at his shoulders.

Alastor’s voice was soft and sweet, a small moan and a gentle grunt. His legs spread more, trying to get every centimeter of himself into you. Hips now grinding in a small circle, but not losing any of the comfort of your warmth. You felt him still pumping that welcomed heat into you, and you tightened around him, drawing out your own moan. He hissed, “Sensitive.” Your legs were shaking like leaves in a storm, no orgasm but the pleasure nonetheless intoxicating.

The front of your brain felt like static, perhaps from the lack of oxygen as you had uncharacteristically lost your breath under Alastor. 

Like losing your virginity, after the fear faded and you were able to find a moment for introspection, you found yourself larger than before. The edges of your canvas expanded out, new parts of yourself unfurling for you to explore. Nothing had been lost, only gained.

Alastor kissed at the dark circle under your eye, at the bruise of your cheek, he lifted your arm and kissed gently at the purple and blue spots there too. He had lied, and he wasn’t sure why, but maybe he’d find the will to admit it to you someday.

He had left yesterday to keep from strangling Tommy in the center of the theater, finding himself in a rage. He rarely felt anger. His killings always about retribution, about karma, about righting the scales. He needed to leave to keep from losing his composure.

He lied to you in the alley, unable to look you in the eye when he did it for fear you’d see it. You always seemed to see him with a clarity others didn’t despite such a short time together. He struggled to hide from you and it was as exciting as it was frightening. A testament to your similarities.

He hadn’t done it for everyone. No. His personal moral code fell to pieces when he saw your bloodied eye and bruised skin. He would have killed Tommy even if he had been a good man, even if you’d been the instigator. None of his murderous rules mattered. And it scared him. 

(Next Part Next Week, orz)

*slang for boyfriend, often a rich one

༻Masterlist༺

∰ Summoning the Horny Little Deer Cult (general tag list):

@cxrsedwxrlds , @nonetheartist , @tsunaki , @janchei , @wettiny-in-smutland , @moonmark98 , @hoebihoeshi , @pansexual-opera-house , @polytheatrix , @lorddiabigmommymilkers , @backinthefkingbuildingagain , @harley2223-blog , @coffee-colored-hopeless-romantic , @poinappel , @midnightnoiserose , @spookieroz , @missmidorima , @ivebeenthearchersstuff , @downbadforfictionalppl , @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx , @sleepylittledemon , @aether-th3-enby , @dontfuckbutimfab , @breathlessaura , @aperfectidiot , @certainlygay , @jth12 , @star-kujo-platinum ,

@ivebeenthearchersstuffn, @rubyninja1 , @simphornies , @alleystore , @readergirlstuff , @berry-demon , @chirimeimei , @fairyv-ice , @olive-frog , @thonethatflies620 , @tiredkiwiii , @ilikemyteawithmilk , @whateverlololo , @psipies , @howabouticallyou , @roxxie-wolf , @ive-no-idea-what-to-call-this , @fizzled-phoenix , @fjorjestertealeaf , @phobophobular , @surusurusuru , @mariaclarade-la-cruz1 , @whateverlololo , @simplyonehellofanotaku , @xixflower , @i-am-nonbinary-bean-deal-with-it , @roxxie-wolf , @a-case-of-attachment , @multifandomfanatic02 , @watereddownmilk , @raynerrold , @crazii-saber-wolf , @valkyrie-expeditions , @bontensbabygirl , @sillyb0nez , @oo0lady-mad0oo , @jazzmasternot , @pseudobun , @fraugwinska✨, @alitaar , @straows , @alastorssimp , @angelicwillows , @b-o-n-e-daddy , @one-and-only-tay /

🏹Alastor stalkers: @celestial-vomit , @amurtan ,@valkyrie-expeditions

[kjupchurch-xx]

💋 Sexiest Man Alive 💋

November 19th, 2008

                    New York City, New York

              

✨ Author's Note: In this one shot, for story purposes, Hugh is not married. We'll say he divorced from Deb recently to keep the flow of the story.

I double checked my appearance in the mirror before heading out. Today is the day I will be interviewing Hugh Jackman for his People magazine's Sexiest Man Alive crowning. The interview will be filmed and broadcasted live on national television. I decided to go business casual, wearing black capri slacks, a white and pink flowered cami tank top with black 6-inch heels. My dark brown hair was shoulder length and wavy. My makeup was flawless. To say nervous would be an understatement whenever you're interviewing someone that's been named the sexiest man alive.

Everything seemed perfect, so I rushed out to my 2008 Ford Mustang and sped off to our studio in downtown NYC. Traffic was hectic, but I managed to get there with 25 minutes to spare to go over the interview questions before our guest of honor arrives. One question in particular stood out to me, it was a question pertaining to his sexuality due to circulating rumors that he's gay. I'm normally shameless, but this would be an awkward thing to ask him.

"You ready?" My co-worker/camera man Justin asked, stepping in front of me.

I nodded, "As I'll ever be! Just going over some of the questions. 'How do you feel about the circulating rumors of you being gay?', 'What turns the sexiest man alive on?', Justin, what the hell are these questions?" I asked with a humorous horrified look spreading across my face.

He failed to contain his laughter, "I didn't write 'em, I just control the cameras."

I shuffled the cards, "This is going to be the weirdest interview. This dude is probably going to leave the set mid interview." I laughed.

Justin shook his head, "Hugh is a pretty good sport. He should take it in a humorous way. You should be good. He'll be here any minute, so get ready."

I nodded, "Alright."

I stood to double check the set and make sure the props were in their correct location, making sure the set was clean and presentable before sitting back down in my chair. I stood back up, hearing an Australian accent coming from the hallway, that must be Mr. Jackman.

"Glad to be here, mate. Thanks for havin' me." He said, shaking hands with our producer Mack, while walking into my view.

Mack smiled and pointed in my direction while walking Hugh up to me, "Mr. Jackman, this is Kaitlyn. She'll be doing your interview."

I smiled, extending my hand out to Hugh, "Hi, nice to meet you. I'm a huge fan and honored to be doing your interview today, Mr. Jackman."

He gave me a smile, shaking my hand, "Call me Hugh. Nice to meet ya, Sweetheart."

I can see why he was voted sexiest man alive now. No photoshop or CGI needed. This man was cut. He had the most beautiful smile I'd ever seen and did not look a day over 28 despite just turning 40 last month. He was wearing dark colored blue jeans with a white t-shirt adorned with a black blazer that made his biceps pop. I could swear the temperature in the room went up at least 20 degrees since he'd walked in.

As we sat down, I noticed him smiling at me and looking me up and down as if he were checking me out. I smiled back while grabbing the cue cards with the questions for the interview and looked towards Justin, who gave me a slight nod to let me know we were rolling,

I smiled from ear to ear as the camera zoomed in on only me, "Good afternoon, New York! Today's guest was just crowned People magazine's Sexiest Man Alive of the year. You can purchase his edition today in stores. Please allow me to welcome Mr. Hugh Jackman!"

The camera zoomed out showing Hugh and I both sitting in the chairs at the small table separating us. I looked over smiling in his direction, allowing him to speak.

He gave a huge smile towards the camera and then towards me, "Thank you for having me! How're you doing today?" He asked.

I smiled, "I'm great. How are you? How have things been since being named People's Sexiest Man Alive?"

"They've been quite interesting. I was told Brad Pitt wasn't available this year." He said with a cheeky laugh.

I failed to contain my laughter, "I believe a lot of people feel that you've earned the title, especially given your portrayal of Wolverine in Marvel's X-Men."

I could see him blushing, "Honestly, things have been great. I just finished up a movie with Nicole Kidman called Australia, which comes out next week. We're pretty pumped for that."

I shifted in my seat, "How was filming that with Nicole?"

He got serious for a moment, "It was great. She's a good friend of my ex wife's, so it was a bit awkward at first, but overall a great experience. Shooting the film back home in Australia was exciting."

I nodded, "We'll be sure to check that out next week once it premiers." I felt a slight smirk appear on my lips, "Okay, now for the good stuff you all have been waiting for. Juicy questions for the sexiest man alive. Are you ready for this, Hugh?" I asked with as much confidence as I could possibly muster.

He giggled, "Baby, I'm always ready. Let's go."

I took a dramatic deep breath for dramatic effect, "Alright, so given you're now the sexiest man alive, what are some of your turn-ons? What's something you find sexy in a woman?"

He chuckled, giving me a smirk, "Oh, getting a bit cheeky, are we? You waste no time." He noticed me trying to keep a straight face and continued, "What turns me on? I'd have to say confidence, a strong woman that can sometimes put me in my place. I also love a woman in summer clothing. I'm from Australia, I love the outdoors, I love the water. I feel like a woman comfortable in her own skin, enjoying herself on the beach is very attractive to me."

I smiled with a nod, shuffling the cards in my hands, "Good answer."

He smirked at me, shifting in his seat, "I have a question for you. When are we heading to the beach?"

I looked a bit flustered, "I didn't know we were! But I'm happy to go with you any time!" I said with a small laugh.

He chuckled, "Dually noted." He tapped his forehead as if he were retaining the information.

This man was gorgeous. I'm sure he's just being funny for the camera, but I'm still enjoying this.

Attempting to stop chuckling, I went with the next question, "So Hugh, what do you make of the circulating rumors of your sexuality?"

He shrugged, "I think they're funny. They don't really bother me."

I nodded, "What did your friends and family say after you broke the news of being the sexiest man of 2008?"

He laughed, "My mates found it funny. My kids think it's funny but also gross their father is being called sexy. My family also, but they were proud of the accomplishment."

"Given your recent divorce, the ladies would like to know, is Hugh Jackman on the market?" I asked curiously, with a slight giggle.

He looked at the camera, "Hugh Jackman is on the market, ladies." He turned to me, "Is my interviewer also on the market?"

I failed to hide the red blush appearing on my cheeks, "Is Hugh Jackman hitting on me?" I said to the camera acting as if I were in shock with a tilt of my head.

He laughed, "You didn't answer my question."

I smirked, "I'm the interviewer. I ask the questions."

He shook his head, "Feisty, are we?"

I chuckled, "Mr. Jackman, do you have a secret talent?"

He smiled, "I'm very well trained. Not toilet trained, but I'm trained in other things. Barbara Walters told me I give phenomenal lap dances."

I laughed, "Did she? Barb is a great judge, so I trust her judgment."

He immediately stepped up from his chair, looking towards Justin, "Do we have music? I'm going to demonstrate." Looking back towards me he continued, "I have to showcase my talent for you."

This has definitely been the most interesting interview of my two year career.

I looked at Justin as music began playing, "Oh? I'm getting a lap dance too?" I asked playfully throwing the cue cards across the room. "Forget the script."

Justin failing miserably to contain his laughter watched on as Hugh began swaying his hips, removing his blazer and stepping to me. I sat not knowing how to react or if this was some odd dream I was having. He was in front of me with both of my legs between his, while still swaying his hips in a seductive motion.

His voice now seductive shook me from the thought, "How're you feeling, love? Isn't this your best interview yet? C'mon, look at me, baby." His finger grasping my chin pulling it upwards to look at him with the cheekiest, sexiest smile on his face.

I nervously laughed, blushing, "Oh my god." Was all I could manage to say. His other hand gripping my shoulder as he moved closer, almost putting his crotch 2 feet from my face.

He immediately began dying laughing as he sank to the floor, placing both hands on my knees. "How was that?" He asked.

I shook my head with a smile, "That was... I mean, I've never had an interview leave me speechless."

I could hear the film crew failing to contain their laughter as Hugh reached up and hugged me, straddling my lap. This must be every woman's wet dream. His laughter piercing my ears as he hugged me.

"Job well done then." He said cockily. "Turn off those cameras. We're headed backstage." He managed to say through his laughter.

I squealed, dying of laughter, "And that concludes our interview with Mr. Hugh Jackman, ladies and gentlemen! Go pick up your issue of People's magazine's Sexiest Man Alive-" I struggled to grab the magazine but finally reaching it, holding it up towards the camera, "Today!"

The cameras immediately cut and Hugh hopped off of me, laughing at the crew's reaction as their laughter grew louder now that they didn't have to worry about the rolling cameras.

"Best interview of your life?" Hugh asked me with a knowing smile.

I laughed, shaking my head, "Definitely. I was not expecting my day at work to end with a lap dance from Wolverine."

He pulled me in for another hug, "Next interview I'll be giving you another lap dance."

I playfully rolled my eyes, hugging him back, "I'll be sure to remind you."

He got serious for a moment, "Would you like to grab lunch with me? I've got a bit before my next press."

I nodded, "Sure. I'd love to."

He gave me a smile, "Seriously though, are you on the market and when are we gonna go to the beach?"

I looked at him nervously, "I am on the market, and I'm available anytime after 3."

He grabbed my hand, leading me towards the hallway. "Great. All I needed to know. I'm looking forward to that next lap dance, beautiful."  He said with a smirk.