#that awkward moment when I reblogged from the wrong page

[alsofoundinpeas]

No One's Ever Had Me (Not Like You)

Summary: After JJ's insensitive remarks toward Spencer become too much to ignore, Y/N steps in to comfort him, igniting a friendship that rapidly grows into something more. Though Y/N falls for him first, Spencer soon finds himself falling even harder, realizing no one has ever cared for him the way she does—and he's ready to return it in full.

CONTENT WARNINGS: 18+ MDNI!! This fic is intended for adult audiences. Oral/Facesitting (f!receiving), dirty talk, praise kink (if you squint), masturbating (m!only), fingering (f!receiving), unprotected sex/PinV sex (wrap it before you tap it lovelies pls), c** swallowing (I don't know how else to put that HAHAHA), slight overstim (for both parties), slightly ooc!JJ (for the plot), one brief argument scene between the reader and JJ. Fluff and smut. Coworkers to friends to lovers.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!BAU!reader/afab!reader

A/N: I love a little "she fell first, he fell harder" trope, so I'm hoping you guys enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it. :) I am once again pleading my case that I am NOT a JJ hater!! I just saw a clip of this scene from season 3 and was inspired because I too have been in Spencer's shoes and honestly it hurts, so I wanted to change up the outcome a little bit. The title comes from Taylor Swift's "So High School" but the fic isn't necessarily based around the song if that makes sense. As always, please tell me what you think! If you enjoy it, please like, reblog, and share it with your friends. <3 Thank you and I love you all!! :)

Y/N had never been particularly fond of JJ. They worked well together, of course—professionalism came first—but there was something about JJ that rubbed her the wrong way. It felt so high school to say, but Y/N had always seen her as a bit of a "mean girl."

Y/N had joined the BAU a year after Spencer, and she’d witnessed firsthand the awkwardness when Spencer, shy and eager, had asked JJ to go to a football game with him as a date after Gideon had given him tickets. A sweet, innocent gesture, only for JJ to show up with Penelope in tow, turning the evening into a humiliating disaster for Spencer. That was just one of the many moments Y/N had found herself bristling at JJ's treatment of him. Despite JJ’s consistent indifference and occasional cruelty, Spencer’s feelings for her had never wavered. 

Until today.

Spencer sat across from JJ on the jet, eager to share his excitement about the book he was reading and its similarities with Pinocchio, his voice bubbling with enthusiasm as he rambled on. He barely noticed the lack of interest in JJ's eyes, her eyebrows raised in a near-sarcastic expression as she muttered a disinterested "Wow" in the middle of his sentence. She tossed the case file onto the table without a second glance and stood. "Interesting. Coffee?" she asked, her voice dripping with faux sweetness, her smile a brittle, saccharine mask. 

Spencer froze, his words dying in his throat as she swiftly walked away. He felt a sinking sensation in his chest—an awkward mix of humiliation and disappointment. Was he that annoying? His hands trembled slightly as he glanced down at the book in his lap, the pages now feeling heavier than they had moments ago. He cleared his throat, but the discomfort lingered, thick in the air.

Y/N had been watching the whole exchange from her spot on the couch, her eyes narrowing as she watched JJ throw her head back in a loud laugh at something Morgan had said about “escaping the robot” from across the jet. That was the breaking point. Y/N's stomach twisted with frustration. She was tired—so tired—of watching JJ repeatedly gut the sweet boy simply because he had a hopeless crush on her, one that JJ clearly saw as beneath her.  

Swinging her legs from where they were tucked underneath her, Y/N stood and made her way to the seat JJ had previously been occupying, sliding into it abruptly.

Spencer’s head jerked up as she quickly filled the seat, blinking hard as confusion washed over his features. “Oh! Uh, hey Y/N… was there something you needed?” he asked softly, his gaze dropping back to the table, hoping she wouldn’t notice the wounded look in his eyes.

“I was listening to your conversation earlier and wanted to ask if you would continue. Please.”

Spencer’s mouth parted in surprise, unsure if he’d heard her correctly. She… wanted to listen to him? He swallowed, his brows furrowing slightly as he hesitated before speaking. “You... you don’t have to do that just to make me feel better, you know.”

Y/N shook her head firmly, her hands coming together on the table as she leaned in slightly, her eyes never leaving his. “Spencer,” she said softly, her voice steady. “I’m not asking you to continue because I feel sorry for you. I’m asking because I actually want to hear what you have to say.” Her tone was gentle yet sincere, and there was no mistaking the genuine interest in her words.

Spencer’s heart raced as he stared at her, his mind struggling to catch up with the moment before he finally opened his mouth, stumbling over the words to continue his excited rant from earlier. Spencer felt something shift inside him with every hum of acknowledgment, nod, and occasional question or light joke. It hit him all at once—this was how she always spoke to him: fully engaged, genuinely curious. She didn’t see him as the genius or the outcast. She saw him as... just Spencer. A person. Not a curiosity. Not a burden. Just him.

And for the rest of the flight, Y/N encouraged Spencer to spill every single thought that came to mind, entranced by the sweet boy in front of her for the entire time.

It was late when they finally landed, the team worn out and eager to get home. With quick goodbyes and Hotch’s promise of a day off tomorrow, the group trickled out of the office, one by one. When Spencer was left alone in the bullpen, he let out a deep sigh, running a hand through his hair as he sat at his desk under the guise of needing to look for something before leaving. His thoughts kept drifting back to the interaction with Y/N on the jet. He couldn’t shake it. And for the life of him, he couldn’t understand why.

It wasn’t like they weren’t already friends—talking to her was nothing out of the ordinary. But something about their interaction today felt different. Maybe it was how quickly she’d stepped in when she saw he was hurt? Then again, the more Spencer thought about it, the more he realized that wasn’t all that unusual either. He’d often felt out of place—whether it was the team’s teasing that sometimes went too far, JJ’s backhanded compliments that left him more bewildered than flattered, or the officers who looked past him because of his age or appearance.

And every time, without fail, Y/N had been there. She was always the one picking up the pieces of his bruised confidence, offering him quiet support with nothing more than a kind word or a warm smile, never asking for anything in return.

“Spencer?” 

Spencer jumped, the unexpected voice pulling him out of his thoughts. He spun around in his seat, heart racing, to find Y/N standing there, her hands raised in a placating gesture. He’d thought she’d already left with the rest of the team, but apparently, he’d been wrong.  

“Whoa, take it easy—it's just me. Are you okay?” Y/N approached slowly, her expression softening with concern as Spencer took slow, deep breaths, trying to steady his racing heart.

“Uh, yeah! I-I’m fine,” Spencer stammered, wincing as his voice cracked. “I just… I thought everyone had already left.”

“Oh, sorry,” she said with a chuckle, flashing a sheepish grin. “I told Hotch I’d drop everything off in evidence before heading out, but I kind of took my time.” She shrugged, then glanced at him. “What about you? Why are you still here?”

Spencer hesitated, his brow furrowing as he thought about her question. What was he still doing here, other than overthinking a simple conversation on the jet? He cleared his throat and stood up from his desk. “I thought I left a certain book here, but... it turns out it’s actually at home.” The weak excuse was followed by a nervous laugh as Spencer fidgeted with his fingers, silently hoping she wouldn’t question him further. 

It seemed luck was on his side, as she nodded slowly—her disbelief clear, but deciding not to press. Instead, she offered a soft smile and tilted her head toward the elevator. “Well, if you're heading out now, would you like to walk with me to my car?” Y/N asked, her voice laced with a hint of hope. “I can give you a ride so you don’t have to take the metro so late.”

Spencer was momentarily surprised by the offer, but before he could overanalyze it, he found himself nodding. She’d offered him rides before, and he’d always turned her down, worried he’d be inconveniencing her or that she was just being polite. But tonight, after the grueling case, he felt too drained to talk himself out of it. Honestly, he wasn’t opposed to spending a little more time with her—just the two of them.

“Um… that would be really nice, actually. Thank you.” 

Y/N waved it off with a playful grin. “It’s really no big deal, Spencer. I honestly wish you'd take me up on it more often. I worry about you on those late trains, and I live just five minutes from you. It’d be nice to have some company on the way home.” 

They continued their light conversation the entire way to the parking garage, pausing only when they got to her car. Y/N fumbled with her keys, unlocking the doors quickly before they slid inside.

The first thing Spencer noticed was the sweet fragrance of her perfume, filling the small space around them. He hadn’t really noticed it before, but now he found himself trying hard not to breathe in too deeply, captivated by the scent and wanting more of it. The smell of her shampoo blended with the fragrance, intensifying as she turned her head to back out of her parking spot. Spencer hadn’t even realized the car had started until that moment.

The next thing he noticed was the sticker on her dash reading Amor Fati. A faint smile curled at his lips as he shifted his gaze to her. He watched her silently for a moment as she focused on the road.

“Lover of fate, huh?”

“Hm?” Y/N frowned in confusion, shooting him a quick sideways glance as she stopped at a red light. It took a moment before she realized what he was referring to. “Oh, yeah. What about it, doc?” She chuckled, her voice light and teasing.

Spencer hummed, a sly grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Oh, nothing… But, did you know that Friedrich Nietzsche built most of his philosophy around that phrase?”

They plunged into a lively conversation, exchanging thoughts on various philosophers and their personal interpretations of the phrase. Spencer was captivated. The only other person who had ever indulged him in such “nerdy” discussions was Penelope (mostly about Doctor Who, of course). It was oddly refreshing, but at the same time, it only added fuel to the fire of his overthinking.

What was it that kept him so hopelessly fixated on JJ? She could be a good friend at times—he wouldn’t deny that—but there were moments when he felt like nothing more than a charity case. Like that kid who clings to someone at school, oblivious to the fact that they don’t actually want to talk to them. She was beautiful, of course—anyone could see that. But they didn’t share much in common, and their hobbies barely aligned. So why did he always end up seeking her out, when there were so many other people he could spend time with?

After the incident on the jet, Spencer had made a decision. He was done pouring so much energy into the blonde liaison and instead would focus on building a genuine friendship with Y/N. Not just the casual co-worker relationship they had, but something real. Maybe that’s why her sudden attention on the jet had caught him off guard. Maybe it wasn’t a crush forming, but rather a deep-rooted loneliness, a subconscious desire for a true friend. That had to be it.

The drive to his apartment seemed to fly by, and as Spencer stepped out of the car, he was surprised by the sense of reluctance that settled over him. He murmured his thanks and goodnight to Y/N, offering a shy smile, his thoughts lingering on the brief but unexpected moment of connection.

"Hey, Spencer?" Y/N called just as he was about to close the door. He paused, and she went on, her tone genuine. "I meant what I said. If you ever want to skip the metro and ride with me instead, I’d love the company. Honestly, I enjoyed our drive so much more than the usual Top 40 hits on the radio."

Spencer’s smile grew, a hesitant nod accompanying the soft bite of his lower lip. This was the opportunity to build something real with her, and for once, he decided not to second-guess it. “I’d really like that, actually.”

Y/N’s heart skipped a beat, a blend of relief and excitement bubbling up inside her. A smile spread across her face as she let out a soft breath. "Great. I’m looking forward to it," she said, her voice warm. "Goodnight, Spencer. Enjoy your day off tomorrow."

The first week of Spencer’s newfound behavior had Y/N feeling… disoriented, for lack of a better term. It wasn’t a bad feeling, not at all. She was genuinely thrilled by the extra attention, but she couldn’t quite figure out what had caused the sudden shift in their dynamic.

Spencer had begun riding home with her after work, both of them quickly growing fond of the newfound companionship. Throughout the day, he found himself gravitating toward her desk more often, offering to help with paperwork or providing a second opinion when she second guessed something. As they spent more time together, their conversations became easier—what had started as awkward exchanges soon evolved into Spencer initiating talks, no longer waiting for her to take the lead.

The irritated huff that escaped JJ’s lips as she stormed past everyone and into her office after Spencer politely declined her offer to sit with her and sort through case files, made it clear—Y/N wasn’t the only one noticing the change.

The next notable shift came when the BAU was called to California for a case. As everyone filed onto the jet and took their usual seats, there was one exception: Spencer Reid. When Y/N settled onto the couch, she was greeted by a soft, uncertain voice.

“Can I join you?” Spencer asked, his fingers nervously tugging at the end of his cardigan sleeves as he blinked at her with those sweet, vulnerable brown eyes.

The entire team glanced up in surprise, caught off guard by Spencer's decision not to take his usual spot across from JJ. Y/N, both puzzled and pleased, quickly moved to make space, patting the seat beside her with an encouraging smile.

"Of course, Spence. Go right ahead."

Spencer let out a quiet sigh, his shoulders drooping in relief as he settled into the seat next to Y/N, the tension he hadn’t realized he was carrying easing from his body. Ignoring the gawking from the others, he leaned in slightly, feeling more at ease in her presence. As Y/N opened the case file, he glanced at her with a small smile, ready to dive into the work with her by his side.

Morgan chuckled from across the jet, looking at JJ with raised brows as she scoffed to herself. "What'd you do to piss off the kid?"

“I didn’t do anything! And when did she start calling him ‘Spence’?” JJ grumbled, her arms crossed defensively as she narrowed her eyes at the two of them.

“Whoa,” Morgan muttered, his smile dropping into a frown. “Didn’t realize I was hitting a sore spot. What’s it matter what she calls him, anyway?”

JJ stiffened, her words catching in her throat as she struggled to respond. Morgan was right—she wasn’t the only one who could give Spencer a nickname. But that was her name for him, and it stung a little more now, given the distance that had been growing between them.

"It’s nothing," JJ replied quickly, forcing a casual shrug. "I was just surprised, that’s all." But even as she spoke, she couldn’t shake the unease lingering in her chest, unsure why it bothered her so much.

The remainder of the flight was spent with the team discussing the case, Hotch assigning tasks for when they touched down. Once they had gone over everything they could, the conversation tapered off, and silence settled over the cabin. Each team member retreated into their own thoughts, but Y/N and Spencer remained deep in discussion, quietly exchanging ideas about the unsub.

As they leaned in to continue their conversation, they unknowingly inched closer, drawn together by the ease of their shared focus. And when Spencer felt Y/N's knee brush against his, he kept his leg still, savoring the contact in silence—his secret to keep.

It took Spencer just over two months to finally gather the courage to ask Y/N to hang out outside of work or their shared car rides—something he had started contributing to so he could get more comfortable with driving. She’d quickly climbed the ranks of people he favored and felt comfortable with, but the fear of rejection still held him back. He didn’t want to jeopardize the connection they’d built, especially when it felt so important to him.

Spencer’s fear dissolved when he asked Y/N to come over and watch a film he’d picked up at an antique shop. Her excited smile and enthusiastic "Duh, I'd love to!" made him realize that she’d likely been waiting for him to take the first step all along.

He was grateful for how Y/N allowed him to move at his own pace, understanding that his accelerated path through high school and college had made it difficult for him to form connections. She never rushed him, giving him the space to open up when he was ready and letting their relationship develop naturally.

Y/N arrived at Spencer’s apartment, her arms loaded with snacks and dressed in cozy clothes, her excitement palpable. She enjoyed their car rides, of course, but an hour together hardly seemed enough compared to the time she truly longed to spend with him.

Y/N had been captivated by Spencer for years, but the more time they spent together, the harder her heart beat for him—every smile, every laugh, every conversation only added to her growing feelings. She told herself she was content with just being friends, that having him in her life, even in the smallest way, was enough. But deep down, she knew the truth—her heart yearned for something more, something that seemed just out of reach.

"Y/N! Hi, welcome in!"

The door swung open to reveal Spencer, his grin wide with excitement as he motioned for her to step inside. The sight of him—beaming with an almost childlike enthusiasm—made her smile in return. His apartment matched her expectations in the best way possible: shelves overflowing with books and quirky knick-knacks, soft, ambient light spilling from lamps that cast a cozy glow across the room, and a desk strewn with an organized mess of case files and open journals. It was a perfect reflection of Spencer—intellectually chaotic, but with an undeniable charm and warmth.

Spencer's heart skipped a beat as she entered the living room, and for a moment, he lost track of everything around him. He had always seen her dressed up for work—polished, professional, a perfect image of control. But now, in her casual clothes, with her hair down and no hint of the usual makeup, she looked entirely different.

She was still stunning, but it was a softer kind of beauty, one that crept up on him and left him breathless before he even realized it. It was subtle, almost unnoticeable at first glance, but once he took her in, he couldn’t seem to pull his focus away. Spencer had always thought he knew Y/N, but this version of her… this version felt like a secret he wasn’t ready to discover yet.

"Where would you like these?" Y/N asked, lifting her arms up with the snacks.

The sound of her voice broke Spencer from his daze, and he quickly moved to help, grabbing a few items to set them down on the coffee table. "Oh, uh, you didn’t have to bring snacks," he stammered, his hands fumbling with the food as he awkwardly rearranged it. "I was just going to order takeout or something. You’re the guest," he added, his words tumbling out in a nervous rush. His mind was racing, still caught in the subtle sweetness of her perfume that lingered in the air as he leaned in to grab the bags, making it hard to focus.

Y/N shrugged, a small grin playing on her lips as she set the snacks down. "I didn’t have to, but I wanted to. And if you’re still craving takeout later, I won't stop you from ordering it. Sound good?"

He nodded, his nose twitching as he grinned, feeling his tension ease. It was just Y/N, he reminded himself. There was no reason to feel this flustered.

An hour later, with the movie playing and a bag of gummy bears between them, Spencer quickly realized he'd been wrong. He had plenty of reasons to feel flustered.

The film, which had subtitles, was riddled with translation errors. Each time a jumbled sentence appeared, Y/N would lean in close, her breath warm against his ear causing shivers up and down his spine as she whispered, "What does that one mean?" Her thigh brushed against his, neither of them making any effort to break the contact. Spencer felt an almost electric warmth spread through him from the slight touch, his body aching for more. Was he really that starved for affection?

That night seemed to crack something deep inside him, like a dam giving way to a flood of longing for touch.

Spencer—who had always been wary of physical contact—now found himself drawn to Y/N in ways he hadn’t anticipated. Every time they handed each other papers or worked on case files together, he’d make sure their fingers brushed. As he passed by her desk, he’d let his fingers trace along her shoulder blades, offering her a quiet smile that she always returned. After particularly exhausting days, he’d seek her out, leaning into her embrace, letting her arms offer him comfort and grounding. And during their hangouts, Spencer no longer hesitated to inch closer, letting his side press against hers, or allowing her to stretch her legs over his lap. The proximity felt natural, and he couldn’t help but crave it more.

It only got worse as time went on. He couldn't keep his hands off of her. It wasn't just casual touches anymore—it was almost as if every opportunity to be near her was a chance to close the distance between them. Y/N couldn't get enough of it. And the team? They definitely noticed. JJ, in particular, seemed to pick up on it right away.

JJ had attempted to confront Spencer about his growing closeness with Y/N before, but each time, he waved her off, insisting that he and Y/N had simply discovered they had more in common than he'd realized and that he just wanted to be her friend. JJ wasn’t convinced—not for a second. It was obvious to her that Spencer was falling for Y/N, and for reasons she couldn’t fully explain, it left a bad taste in her mouth. It wasn’t that she harbored romantic feelings for him, but she had grown accustomed to his attention. As much as she hated to admit it, she missed being the one to receive it.

The tension finally boiled over when the team was dispatched to a case in Oregon.

It had been six months since the incident on the jet, and Y/N and Spencer had become almost inseparable. Garcia and Morgan, delighted by their closeness, often teased them and playfully begged them to just admit they were dating—though both vehemently insisted that their relationship was purely platonic. Rossi and Emily often exchanged knowing looks on the jet, with Emily even going so far as to snap a picture of Y/N and Spencer sleeping on the couch after a case—a cute picture featuring Spencer’s head resting on Y/N’s and her face tucked into his shoulder as they peacefully dozed together. Even Hotch seemed to approve, having reviewed the Bureau’s internal fraternization policies just in case Strauss raised an issue. The only person who didn’t seem thrilled about it was JJ.

Two days in Oregon, and the team was already facing an uphill battle. They’d been working non-stop to build a profile for the unsub, but so far, nothing had gone right. There were no witnesses who could provide a description, a local officer had already compromised key evidence from the first crime scene, and the victims seemed to have no clear link to one another. Frustration was mounting for everyone, but for JJ it was mounting for an entirely separate reason.

Spencer had been managing his frustration through subtle touches with Y/N—brief brushes of his hand against her lower back as he passed, pressing his head into her shoulder with a frustrated groan after combing through their limited information for hours... But the moment that pushed JJ to her breaking point was when Spencer, noticing an officer staring at Y/N, pulled her possessively into him, his hand firmly gripping her waist until that officer left the room.

"Y/N?"

JJ's voice was tight as she stepped into the conference room the local officers had set up for the BAU to use during their case, spotting Y/N standing in front of the pinned-up map of the area as she studied the locations where the victims had been found. Spencer had just left, going to start more coffee for them since they were running low. The rest of the team was out in the field, reinvestigating the crime scenes for anything that may have been missed initially.

Y/N looked up, her brow furrowing as JJ closed the door. They weren’t close on a personal level, and Y/N couldn’t think of any reason, related to the case or otherwise, for JJ to want to speak with her alone.

"...Yes?"

JJ lingered near the end of the table, her arms crossed across her chest as she leveled Y/N with a look that immediately had her on edge. "I’m not trying to pry, but as his best friend, I have to ask… what’s going on between you and Spencer?" Her face was twisted in a scowl, her head tilting as she waited for a response.

Y/N's eyebrows nearly shot up into her hairline at that, a scoffed laugh leaving her lips before she could stop it. His best friend. Was she serious?

"Excuse me?"

"What's going on with you and Spencer?" JJ repeated, her voice deliberate. "Everyone’s noticed how he’s been acting—the constant touching, for one, is a bit much, don’t you think? He never wants to hang out with me anymore. It’s like he's all about you now. So, are you two seeing each other or what?"

Y/N turned to face JJ fully, her lips tightening into a thin line as she took a steadying breath. Her audacity was astounding, truly. The last thing she wanted today was to argue with this fucking—

"That's hilarious, Jennifer. Really," Y/N chuckled lowly, shaking her head. "Have you ever considered that maybe—just maybe—Spencer is an adult who can make his own decisions? I’m not the reason he doesn't want to spend time with you."

JJ stiffened at the mention of her name, scoffing in response. "Oh, clearly you have something to do with it. Before you started driving him home, he followed me around like a lost puppy. Now he barely even wants to be around me!"

That struck a nerve in Y/N, like a live wire finally sparked to life. A lost puppy? Was that truly how little she thought of him? Y/N's head tilted, her voice dropping to a low, dangerous tone as she spoke again.

"Don't you ever talk about Spencer like that again. He's not your fucking pet, Jennifer!"

Her voice was menacing as she stepped forward, grim satisfaction coursing through her as JJ stumbled backward.

"Spencer is a brilliant, capable man who’s never deserved the way you or anyone else have made him feel less than that. We’re not dating. But if we were, I wouldn’t be ashamed of him. Unlike you, who found the idea of a man like him adoring you repulsive instead of seeing it for the gift it was. Spencer Reid is a fucking treasure, and it’s entirely your fault you never realized how lucky you were to have his attention."

Y/N's face was flushed red with anger, her chest heaving as she seethed.

"So again, I have nothing to do with him not wanting to spend time with you anymore. Maybe he finally realized that you're just not as great of a person as you pretend to be."

Rather than waiting for the teary-eyed, speechless blonde to reply, Y/N grabbed her things and stormed out, heading out to take an early lunch. But as she swung the door open, she was met with Spencer standing right there, and before she could react, she collided with his chest. His hands immediately flew to her waist, steadying her as she looked up sheepishly.

"Shit! I’m sorry, Spence," Y/N muttered, still fuming from her conversation with JJ. Her face turned even redder when she realized he might have heard some of it, but she didn’t regret a word of what she’d said.

He hadn't just heard some of it... He'd heard all of it. When he’d left earlier, he’d turned back, intending to ask if she wanted to take a break from the map. Instead, he had been met with the sight of JJ closing the door, and he curiously (shamefully) pressed up against it to know what was going on.

Admittedly, it stung to hear JJ talk about him like that, even though he already knew she'd taken advantage of his past crush on her. But Y/N's words and how she defended him hit him harder than expected. It became clear in that instant—no one had ever been there for him the way she always had been, and somewhere along the way, he'd fallen deeply in love with her.

"Hey, hey, it’s alright," Spencer said quietly, his hands smoothing over her waist before resting gently on her shoulders. "Go take your lunch. You’ve earned a break. I’ll keep working on the geographical profile until you return."

Y/N offered a weary but grateful smile before walking away, leaving Spencer alone to process the revelation weighing on him.

That night, Spencer paced his hotel room, caught between waiting until they were home to tell Y/N how he felt or just saying it now. He felt like an idiot for not recognizing it sooner, for convincing himself his feelings for her were purely platonic. But now that he knew, it consumed him. He wanted to shout it to the heavens, to tell the world he was in love with her.

Spencer knew what he had to do. He realized that confessing his feelings in the middle of a case wasn’t ideal, but the thought of waiting any longer to let her know how much she meant to him was unbearable. That’s why, before he could talk himself out of it, he found himself standing outside her door at midnight, knocking softly.

"Spence? You okay?"

Her sleepy voice tugged at his heart as she opened the door, rubbing her eyes and letting out a soft yawn. She smiled faintly, gesturing for him to come in. The room was cloaked in darkness, but the moonlight spilling through the curtains illuminated the crumpled sheets, evidence of her restless sleep.

His heart hammered in his chest as he breathed in unsteadily, lowering himself onto the edge of her bed. She crawled back to the middle, flicking on the bedside lamp, the soft light casting a warm glow between them. His courage started to falter, but the gentle concern in her eyes anchored him. He remembered why he was here—because with her, he felt safe enough to face this, no matter how vulnerable he felt.

"Y/N, I—" Spencer began, his voice catching for a moment, but he continued anyway. "I heard what happened with JJ earlier, and it made me realize something I should’ve recognized a long time ago. I was so caught up in denial that it didn’t hit me until now. And I’m so sorry for that…"

Oh, fuck. He was starting to ramble. This isn't how he wanted this to go at all—

"Y/N... I'm in love with you. I am so, so in love with you that it aches. You are, without a doubt, the most beautiful person I’ve ever known. And it’s not just the way you look, though I could spend hours talking about how stunning you are. It’s who you are, the goodness that radiates from you. You make me want to be better, to wake up every day and try to be at least half the person you are. You care for everyone around you like it’s your purpose, and I want to be the one who takes care of you for once because you truly deserve that. I’ve never felt anything like this, and if you don’t feel the same way, that’s okay. But I just—I needed you to know."

Y/N’s jaw dropped as Spencer’s confession filled the air, her eyes welling with tears as the words she had longed for spilled from him. She moved swiftly, sitting up from the pillows and crawling toward him, a tear dripping down her cheek as she rested her hands on his shoulders.

"I love you too, Spencer Reid," she breathed, her voice trembling with sincerity. "I love you with everything I am."

Spencer’s lungs burned as he released a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. He returned her watery smile, his heart overflowing with love for the woman before him. Carefully, he cupped her face, his thumb following the line of her cheeks, his eyes filled with a quiet mix of wonder and adoration.

“Can I kiss you? Please?”

Her lips were on his the second he uttered the last syllable.

The kiss was both gentle and intense, their lips meeting with a deliberate slowness as if savoring every moment of crossing the line from friendship into something more. There was a hunger beneath the tenderness, an unspoken yearning finally being released. Their lips parted for only a second, allowing them to suck in a quick breath before they were back on each other. Each kiss was a quiet revelation, better than they had ever dreamed.

What started as an innocent declaration of their feelings for each other quickly evolved into something more ravenous as Spencer’s tongue prodded at the seam of her lips. The soft exhale Y/N released as their tongues brushed together had Spencer groaning, one of his hands sliding to cradle the back of her head as he savored the taste of her and the feeling of her lips against his. His other hand gingerly slid down her body, settling on her hip as he leaned forward, guiding her to rest against the pillows.

Y/N’s thighs parted eagerly to make room for him between them, her hands lacing through his hair as she tugged him impossibly closer. His elbows dug into the mattress beside her body as he hovered above her, swallowing the moan that slipped from her lips when their hips pressed together. He chased her lips when she tipped her head back, kissing her with an intensity that made her dizzy and had her whining into his mouth.

"I-I want— Spence, please—"

Y/N pleaded as his lips trailed down the side of her neck to suck a mark into her collarbone, though she wasn't even sure what she was begging for. She just knew she needed him. Her body felt like it was aflame, ignited by the spark that was Spencer's tongue soothing the possessive bruise now blooming across her skin. She needed him so desperately that her mind became a blur, consumed by an endless craving, unable to focus on anything but the overwhelming desire for more—more of him, more of this, more of everything he offered.

The thin fabric of their pajamas did little to conceal the feeling of his stiff cock grinding against her in subtle rocks of his hips as his hands began to roam her body, only adding to the overwhelming need she felt coursing through her. Spencer hushed her with a gentle peck, his lips lingering against hers for a brief, sweet moment before he moved to kiss her nose, her cheeks, and finally her forehead. With each gentle kiss, she couldn't help but giggle softly, her laughter melting into the space between them.

"I know, pretty girl. You're already so worked up and all I've done is kiss you," he cooed, the words taking her by surprise. He wasn't wrong. A wet patch had started seeping through the cotton of her pants, something his fingers had taken an interest in as he began to lightly skim up and down her clit with his knuckles over the damp fabric. "No one ever takes care of you, do they, baby? Let me be the one to take care of you, Y/N. Please?" He paused, gently lifting her chin so he could meet her gaze.

Spencer’s words quieted the storm raging inside her, and she took a deep breath, her body finally relaxing. She couldn’t recall the last time she’d felt such a strong desire to let go, to stop carrying the weight of everything alone. To finally surrender and let someone take care of her. So she did exactly that.

"Yes. God, yes. Please, Spencer," Y/N whispered, her eyes searching his, full of need and trust.

It was as if a switch flipped the moment Spencer got the confirmation he needed.

His lips were back on hers in an instant, devouring her as though she'd melt away if he stopped touching her for even a second. He rolled them over, breaking the kiss to glide his hands underneath the rumpled t-shirt Y/N had on for bed and lifting it over her head in one swift motion. Ignoring her soft squeal of surprise, he brought his hands down to her hips, massaging the skin there before sliding his hands under the waistband of her pajama pants to grip her ass.

"Look at you… You're nothing short of incredible. Absolutely breathtaking," Spencer murmured, staring up at her in awe. The soft brown of his eyes had faded, overtaken by the dark void of his dilated pupils, as if a veil had been drawn across them. "I can't even begin to express how lucky I am to have you... how beautiful you are."

Y/N’s cheeks flushed under his gaze, her teeth gently catching her lower lip as she placed her hands beside his head for support. She shivered as her nipples brushed against the fabric of his shirt, hardened by the cool air of the hotel room and the desire she felt coursing through her. She answered with a hum and ducked her head shyly, mouthing at the sensitive skin underneath his jaw as she wriggled impatiently in his hold.

Spencer chuckled breathlessly, squeezing her ass again before retracting his hands. His fingers danced along the waistband of her pants teasingly before he began to tug them down, dragging her panties with them. His heart raced as she wiggled out of them, hammering against his chest with a rhythm that felt almost deafening. He couldn’t comprehend what he’d done to deserve someone like her, but he would spend a lifetime making sure she knew just how precious she was to him.

"It's your turn to strip," Y/N mumbled as she sat up, straddling his waist as her hands found their way under his shirt. "I feel so... exposed."

Spencer’s brows quirked in amusement, a quiet laugh slipping out before he could stop it as she shoved the shirt up and over his head. She slithered down his body, grinning up at him before placing a kiss on his hip bone. His pants soon joined the growing pile of clothes on the ground, followed shortly after by his boxers.

"There. Is that better, sweetheart?" Spencer teased, but the words went completely unheard as she gawked at him.

Y/N kneeled between his spread legs, her hands planted firmly on his thighs as she took in the sight of him. He lay before her like something straight out of her most vivid dreams, more stunning than she’d ever imagined. He was effortlessly handsome—his hair tousled, lips slightly swollen from their kisses, and freckles and scars scattered across his shoulders and chest like a map of his past. His muscles were lean and toned, and the sparse hair trailing down beneath his belly button was far more enticing than it should've been. His cock was as pretty as he was, the flushed head of his more than impressive arousal matching the pink of his cheeks.

She couldn’t tear her eyes away.

"C'mere. I'm supposed to be taking care of you," Spencer grinned, motioning for Y/N to crawl back over him.

Instead of letting her settle with her thighs around his hips like she had previously been, he tugged insistently, her brows furrowing in confusion as she wobbled above him.

"Spencer, what—"

"Get up here," Spencer crooned, finally managing to maneuver her forward so her pussy hovered over his mouth. "And sit down."

Y/N's jaw dropped, her hands flying out to catch herself as she gripped the headboard. She was taken aback, utterly speechless. Here she was, being manhandled by Spencer Reid. The same quiet, awkward genius who rambled endlessly about statistics and couldn’t sit still for more than a minute was man-handling her and demanding she sit on his face. Was she dreaming?

"Are you— are you sure?" Y/N squeaked, staring down at him with wide eyes. "You really don't have to—"

Spencer turned his head so he could pepper open-mouthed kisses up and down her inner thigh, coaxing a soft moan from her as his warm breath fanned across her soaked folds.

"Stop all that worrying, pretty girl. I told you I'd take care of you—let me keep my word."

Before she could protest, Spencer gripped her hips, pulling her down at the same time he tilted his head up to lap his tongue over her core. Any hesitation Y/N had left evaporated from her body as a guttural moan ripped its way from her throat, her eyes fluttering shut as Spencer dragged his tongue over her clit. His movements were languid but hungry as he reveled in the taste of her, relishing her essence as though it was the very thing he needed to fuel his existence.

The air was filled with a mixture of moans and the slick sound of Spencer's mouth working between her legs, only amplifying the intense pleasure swimming through her body. Once Spencer was sure Y/N would stay put, he let one of his hands fall away from her hips, tracing it down his body until it wrapped around his cock. The breathy sounds she was letting out had him painfully hard, his thumb spreading the bead of precum spilling from the tip down the length of him as he began to pump himself.

"Oh, fuck—" Y/N whined as she forced her eyes open, turning to look over her shoulder at the sound of Spencer touching himself. The sight had her thighs trembling, a low groan rumbling in her throat as she turned her gaze down to look at him underneath her.

His eyes were squeezed shut, his brows pinched together in pleasure as his hand began to move faster. It was downright sinful. She'd never seen anything more beautiful.

Spencer alternated between fucking his tongue into her and sucking gently at her clit, the combination hurtling her toward her orgasm at a speed she never thought was possible. Y/N's hips rocked against his face, frantic whimpers slipping from her lips as her face began to scrunch in pleasure. The needy moans he was letting out against her skin pushed her over the edge as a sharp gasp broke free into the air, followed by a loud cry as her hands dropped from the headboard to tangle into his hair while she came.

Spencer whimpered as he let go of himself, instead using his hands to anchor her down while he gently worked her through her climax. He pressed a small kiss to her clit before she squirmed away, falling onto the bed beside him as her chest heaved. A look of adoration lingered on his face as he stroked her side and hair, pressing his lips to her forehead while she caught her breath.

Y/N flashed a small grin, rolling her eyes at his proud expression. A comforting heaviness settled in her limbs, pulling her deeper into the bed as she released a soft sigh. It took her a few moments to push herself up on her elbow, shifting to face him instead of lying flat on her back.

"How am I ever supposed to get anything done again now that I know you can do that?" Y/N murmured with a hint of exasperation, tilting her head to nuzzle her nose against his.

Spencer’s breath hitched as she draped her leg across his waist, hissing quietly as the head of his cock brushed against her warmth. He hummed, feigning thought before shrugging with a playful grin. "Could be a reward for a job well done," he teased, brushing a lingering kiss across her lips as his hand rubbed up and down her thigh.

"Yeah?" Y/N's hips began to slowly rock back and forth, the friction from his cock pressing between her folds making her head spin. "Well, can I reward you for a job well done then?"

Spencer's fingers flexed against her thigh, a low noise escaping him as he fought to keep his eyes on hers.

It made sense to him now why sailors would plummet into icy waters at the sound of a siren's call. If that call was anything as alluring as the sound of her voice, he'd happily do the same. She could demand the most heinous things of him right now and he'd do them simply because she asked.

But tonight was about her.

So instead of caving and begging for her touch, he shook his head, his lips quirking up at the pout forming on her lips. "As much as I would love to take you up on that offer, I'm supposed to be taking care of you, sweetheart. Not the other way around."

"Okay... so then take care of me by fucking me. Please?"

Spencer's resolve broke at her words. How could he possibly deny her? He'd be an absolute fool not to give her whatever her heart wished for.

His lips met hers in a fervent kiss as he moved to hover over her once more. Two of his fingers found her soaked pussy and sank inside of her with little resistance, a smug grin finding its way to his face as she gasped loudly into his mouth. He broke the kiss, trailing his lips along her jaw before he whispered into her ear.

"Are you sure that's what you want?"

Y/N bucked her hips up into his touch, writhing underneath him as she nodded frantically. There wasn't a thing in this world that she wanted more. "Yes, Spence, please. Please fuck me. I need it—"

Spencer groaned, latching his lips onto the side of her neck as he inhaled sharply through his nose before he sat back on his heels. His fingers slipped out of her, her eyes widening as he brought the digits to his mouth and sucked them clean with a satisfied hum.

"Flip over."

Y/N followed his command without hesitation, the rush of anticipation making her feel almost detached, as though she were on autopilot, waiting to see what he would do next. Her breath caught in her throat as his lips pressed a gentle kiss to her shoulder before he reached for a pillow, tucking it underneath her hips to prop her up. A low whine emitted from her chest as she felt the flushed head of his arousal bump against her entrance, her hips canting back in an attempt to get him to push forward as he leaned forward, his chest brushing her back as he planted his hands into the mattress beside her.

"Do you want it like this, sweetheart? No condom? Because I can go find one..." Spencer murmured into her ear, his breathing labored as he teased her opening.

"Please— Wanna feel you, Spence," She whined into the pillow, arching her hips into his touch, though he remained just out of reach.

Spencer's eyes squeezed shut as a pang of arousal shot through him, taking a shuddering breath to mentally prepare himself not to blow his load before he even fucked her. With a kiss to the back of her head, Spencer began to press forward, easing into her inch by inch.

Y/N's mouth gaped open against the pillow she'd tugged underneath her head in a silent moan, the sensation of him finally filling her more intense than she'd expected. Her fingers gripped the sheets as he bottomed out, a pitiful whimper slipping free as she wiggled her hips in an attempt to adjust to the feeling. Her walls clenched around him instinctively as she adjusted, causing a broken moan to fall from his lips as his head rested against her shoulder, his breath puffing across her skin in warm bursts.

His right arm kept him braced above her while his left arm made its way under her chest, pulling her close as his hand began to grope at her breasts. His fingertips pinched one of her nipples, reveling in the soft moan she let out. "Are you ready for me to move, pretty girl?" He breathed, peppering kisses along the side of her face as he waited for her to relax.

At her nod, Spencer began to move, his thrusts slow but powerful as he repeatedly drove into her. He shifted up onto his knees, pulling her hips back into his languid thrusts as she moaned beneath him. The angle allowed him to brush her G-spot with every stroke, causing her toes to curl with each pang of pleasure that wracked her body. His hands squeezed the flesh of her ass, a low whine bubbling in his throat as he took in the sight of his cock sliding in and out of her.

It was downright erotic, the sight of her arousal coating the wiry curls at the base of him driving him insane. She was so fucking wet for him. The knowledge that he was making her feel this good made his head spin. He couldn't keep it to himself anymore. He needed to show her how deeply this was affecting him, to make her understand the intensity of the way she made him feel.

Everyone knew Spencer liked to run his mouth. It wasn't a surprise that this remained true during sex. What surprised Y/N, however, was how absolutely filthy of a mouth the man had. Spencer, the same Spencer who had barely uttered a curse in all the years she'd known him, was now stringing together words that would make even the most foul-mouthed person blush.

His pace increased with each word he murmured, small "ah, ah, ah's" spilling from her lips as he began to really pound into her.

"Does that feel good? Huh? Finally being taken care of the way you deserve?"

"Fuck— look at you, baby. Taking my cock so well. Do you like that? You like feeling me stretch you open?"

"Such a perfect pussy, sweetheart. So fucking good for me. So tight. My beautiful girl."

Every vulgar word he breathed into the space between them had her mind reeling, her body teetering on the edge of release as her walls fluttered around him. Desperate moans began to spill from her as she took everything he had to offer, her teeth digging into her lower lip to try to stifle the noises in an attempt not to wake everyone on that floor of the hotel. Spencer's gaze was locked on the way her ass rippled with each thrust, a look of pure ecstasy on his face as his brows pinched together and his mouth hung open.

"S-Spence— I'm so close—" Y/N whimpered, burying her face into the pillow beneath her as she moaned helplessly.

He dragged one of his hands away from where it was squeezing her hip, shoving it between her hips and the pillow propping her up as he began to stroke her clit in time with his thrusts. "Let go, sweet girl. Cum around my cock. Show me how good I make you feel."

She cried out at that, thrashing underneath him as the tension coiling in her lower belly finally snapped. Spencer's hips stuttered, a guttural moan wrenching its way from his throat as she squeezed around him, her legs trembling as one of the most powerful orgasms she'd ever experienced washed over her in waves.

"God— fuck, I'm about to cum," Spencer grunted, his eyes squeezing shut briefly as he swallowed hard, his chest heaving with exertion as he fucked her through it. "Where do you want it, pretty girl?"

"Wanna taste you... Spence, please—" Y/N slurred beneath him, weakly pushing up on her elbows to turn and look at him over her shoulder. Her bottom lip was swollen and lightly bruised from how hard she'd been biting at it, and her eyes were watery with unshed tears as the pleasure began to overwhelm her.

The sight of her looking so ruined almost had him spilling inside of her, and with a muffled curse he pulled out of her, fisting his cock as she rolled onto her back and stuck her tongue out patiently. He shuffled up her body, bracing himself with one hand against the headboard as he gazed down at her reverently. The amusement he felt from the brief feeling of deja vu from having her in a similar position earlier that night was short-lived as his head tipped back, a strained whimper filling the air as her tongue brushed against the head of his cock.

It only took a few pumps for him to cum, his eyes rolling back into his head when she sat up to take him further into her mouth as rope after rope of his essence flooded her throat. Y/N sucked gently, working him through his orgasm until his hips were jerking and he was whining, pulling off of his softening cock with a slick 'pop'. He crumpled onto the bed next to her, his heart pounding almost painfully against his ribcage as he struggled to catch his breath.

Spencer wrapped her tightly in his arms, his lips brushing against the top of her head with soft, repeated kisses. Between each tender touch, he murmured how incredible she made him feel, how he couldn’t believe he was lucky enough to share this life with her, let alone love her the way he did. Y/N whispered back, her voice soft but full of conviction, telling him how deeply she cherished him and how every part of her was filled with love for him.

Her fingers idly traced patterns across the flushed skin of his chest until he caught her hand, pressing tender kisses to her knuckles before quietly slipping out of bed. She groaned petulantly as he pulled her to her feet, ushering her towards the bathroom with a pat to her butt and a mumbled but passionate lecture on the timeframe after sex in which she needed to pee to avoid getting a UTI. Even though she knew he was right, she still rolled her eyes as she trudged into the bathroom. She decided to brush her teeth while she was there as well, giggling to herself at the thought of kissing Spencer with the taste of him still in her mouth.

When she stepped out, Spencer had changed the sheets and set a bottle of water on the nightstand, flashing a drowsy grin as she slipped into bed next to him and turned the lamp out. "What's all this about?" she teased, her smile breaking into a yawn.

"I'm taking care of you, just like I said I would."

It didn’t take long for exhaustion to settle in, both of them murmuring good nights between soft kisses. As they drifted off together, Y/N felt certain he would be taking care of her for the rest of his life—and she was just as sure that she would do the same for him.

Continued A/N's: Happy (late) start to December!! I really hope you guys enjoy this :') I plan on doing a little something (maybe, possibly ;) ) for Christmas, so stay tuned for updates on what that little something may be. Also, a loving reminder that my requests are open! :) <3 K

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[gvtted-ratz]

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Would You Like Some Help?

Norman Bates x M!Reader

Last Edited: April 1, 2021 5:40 PM

TW: past abuse, past manipulation

Requested: No.

Word Count: 1,192

AO3 LINK -> HERE

You park the car right next to the hotel and step out. You feel very nervous, afraid that he might somehow know who you are and why you’re running. Back home, you had a very nice girlfriend. Well, very nice to look at. Her personality was like a rotten apple. She ordered you around, threw things at you, but she mostly hurt you emotionally and mentally. You wanted out the moment you saw who she truly was. In the beginning, she was very sweet and kind. She had always been praising you for the work you did and how you always treated her right. Then, after she moved in, everything changed. She would scream and holler at you for doing the simplest things wrong. She would always beat down your confidence and just generally make you feel bad.

At the time, you didn’t know what to do so you endured it. As it got worse, you had finally had enough. When she was asleep, you packed all your necessities before throwing your suitcase in your car. After that, you just drove until you came to the Bates Motel. And here you are, standing right by the lobby door, unsure on whether or not to go in. “Oh! H-Hello!” You hear someone say. You look to where the voice came from, seeing a man approach you from a large home.

“Hello,” You say, trying to keep everything short and sweet.

“I’m, uh, sorry I-I wasn’t here. I was ten-tending to my mother,” He says, beckoning you to follow him into the lobby.

“It’s not a problem, Mr. Bates,” You tell him as you stand in front of the counter. He reaches underneath the counter and pulls out a book. He places it in front of you and opens it to a page with a few names on it.

“Just write down yo-your name and where you’re from,” He says, handing you a pen. You write down your name and hesitate one here your from before deciding to put Phoenix.

“How much for a few nights?” You ask, digging around your pockets for your wallet. 

“Oh! Ho-how long are you sta-staying?” He asks, his gaze holds warmth and nervousness.

“A few nights. Maybe four I guess? I’m not really sure, just a few nights is all,” You tell him, shrugging since you’re not sure how long you plan on staying.

“Oh, well, then is th-that cash or a check? What are you pa-paying with?” He asks. You take out your wallet and pull out a few bills. You hand him the bills, watching his reaction. He gives you a small smile and nods. “This is enough f-for a week’s stay.”

“That’s good enough,” You tell him, fidgeting with your hands and fingers.

“W-Well, I’m one for nu-numerical order so you get cabin one. There were twe-twelve vacancies and n-now we have e-el-eleven,” He tells you with a smile. The smile seems kind but also nervous. Maybe he’s just as awkward as you. He grabs one of the keys that’s hanging on the hooks; the key happens to be the one underneath the number one for cabin one.

He hands you your room key, his fingers barely touching your own. You give him a small smile as you take the key from him. “Do you need to show me where the room is?” You ask him, unsure if you can go find it yourself.

“I can show you!” He says quickly, his smile seeming to be a little less nervous. He moves in front of you and takes the lead. He still seems nervous, but not as nervous as he previously was. He leads you to cabin one and gestures for you to open the door. You place the key in the lock and turn it, opening the door. He goes into the room first, you tagging along right behind him.

“Looks comfy,” You say, looking around the room. On the wall, you see two pictures of some type of small bird hanging up. It honestly doesn’t look too bad with the small vanity, bed, closet, and drawers by the door.

“Yes, it is. Th-the bed is, um, pretty soft and the she-sheet are clean. I clean th-them every day. Ju-just a habit,” He tells you, fidgeting in his spot near the bathroom.

“Well… Thank you for showing me to my room, Mr. Bates,” You say, trying to be as kind as possible. You don’t want to be rude to him since it is his hotel and he doesn’t seem to be a bad guy.

“I should g-get back to work…” He says, trailing off.

“ Would You Like Some Help? ” You ask him, not really ready to be alone.

“You don’t have to. I-I’ve taken care of the motel f-for so long…” He seems hesitant about letting you help him, but not against the idea. “I…” He shakes his head. “N-no. Yo-your a customer and shouldn’t do my work.”

“I was just offering is all. If you want help, feel free to ask me, I don’t mind,” You tell him, ignoring his stuttering. You’ve noticed it but you really don’t mind it too much. He gives you a small smile as a thanks before leaving you to your room. You look around the room some more before Norman comes back with your items.

“I di-didn’t mean to forget your stuff,” He says, setting your suitcase down by your bed.

“It’s fine. I forgot about it until you brought it in so no worries,” You dismiss his worries, not really caring. You would have gotten it at some point but now that he brought it in, you didn’t have to worry about going out to get it and getting caught up in the rain. It has just started to rain, it isn’t raining very hard though, just a light sprinkle.

“We-Well, have a good night,” Norman bids you farewell and leaves you alone with yourself, the room, and your stuff. You let out a large sigh, ready to get some much-needed sleep. You start to go through your suitcase and unpack everything. You hang up your clothes and place your journal and a pen on the vanity. You didn’t have very much so unpacking it all didn’t take much time. You pull out a tank top and a pair of pajama pants and start to strip out of your clothes.

You feel eyes on you, making you look around the room, holding your shirt in one hand. When you see nothing out of the ordinary, you throw your dirty shirt into your suitcase and throw on the tank top. You finish putting on your pajama pants when the feeling of being watched returns. You ignore it for now and let your body fall onto the bed. Honestly, it felt better than your bad back at your old home. You wrap yourself in the soft blankets, happy to finally get a break. The feeling of being watched doesn’t leave, even as you fall asleep you can feel it. It didn’t bother you too much and with that, you let your conscious drift away into the dream world.

[surrik-i]

Hi there! Welcome to my blog, it’s nice to meet you! 🫶🏻

Minors pls do not interact, some of the stuff I do reblog are nsfw, sometimes includes gore, violence, etc. (even if it was sfw I still don’t want minors interacting with my page cause it’s be very awkward for me) and it’d make me very uncomfortable if no one really respected my boundaries or stuff like that. I’m not well with wording serious stuff like this, but hopefully you guys understand where I’m coming from when I say that I don’t want minors to really read some of the stuff I reblog, etc.

This is my first time really doing something like this, so if it seems awkward or anything I’m sorry 😭

I’m not trying to be rude or anything of the sort, I just want to make sure that everyone knows/understands that my blog is specifically 18+ or whatever.

I’m gonna be honest I don’t think I’d write anything of my own (not like that, I’m not here to take anyone’s work- that sounds wrong my bad 😭), or make drabbles, headcanons, etc. mostly due to the fact that I’m insecure of the way I write, because let’s be honest if I were to write something it’d look like it was written by a pre-schooler. BUT if I were to write something like that I’d mostly practice or try to improve my writing skills, cause honestly I’m not that good of a writer 😭

Honestly I’ll say it again, this is made to be an 18+ page. Again I’m not trying to be rude or anything like that at all, I just don’t know how I’d feel if anyone underage were to read something I reblogged iykwim. I mostly just wanted to get my point across:p

About me (or some stuff about me, lmao)

My name is Taylor, I am 18, I’m gonna be 19 on August of the 24th 🫶🏻❤️ you can call me whatever you want, just not anything disrespectful but I don’t think you guys would do that lmao (I hope- 🫢😗)

Enhypen, ZB1, Stray Kids, NCT (all subunits, including WayV), BTS, KISS OF LIFE, BABYMONSTER, TXT, Boy next door, P1 Harmony, ATEEZ, SVT, Purple Kiss, CLC, EXO, etc. I love all. Mostly TXT, Enhypen, SKZ, KOL, Bby Monster, SVT, NCT are the ones I listen to at the moment. I’M SORRY THAT WAS A LOT-

But right now Enhypen are the only group I listen to on a daily basis, some of TXT’s songs included. (Along with a few KOL songs as well)

I love the people I follow (especially their work), including the ones that follow me ofc! 😘😘😘❤️❤️❤️

I don’t know what else to write- do I write my likes and dislikes? LMAO I’VE NEVER DONE THIS BEFORE 😭 (I’m just gonna do that)

I love cheesecake, strawberries, Takis, ENHYPEN AND ALL OF THE GROUPS I STAN- Chicken Tendies, Watermelon and fruit (like grapes, apples, plums, etc.) I love my dog Allie, she’s a cutie.

(Not a recent pick but this is the only thing I could find where she was looking at the camera-)

I don’t want to get too personal, but I hate narcissistic people, or people that are just mean for no reason or people that overstep boundaries. 👀👀 sounds specific- but it’s happened to me and it irks me sm lmao

Yeah, I’d go on on my dislikes but this would be literally a whole entire paragraph/essay, so-

LOVE YA! ❤️❤️❤️❤️

[onlymingyus]

hi mars,,, i feel lowk awk putting in a request but i do love your writing so much!! i hope i don’t stress you out, but i am having such a terrible week, one of those weeks where everything feels wrong and goes bad and i was wondering if you had any super sweet vernon thoughts (possibly praising,,, absolutely-terribly-in-love type of thots,,) as of late? if this makes you uncomfy or awk i get it and i’m very sorry !!!! thank u either way angel <33

Hi baby! There is nothing awkward about this at all. You can always send me things like this ♥ I desperately hope your week has gotten better.

cw; chwe vernon x reader, smut (minor dni), fluff, praising, pet names, unprotected sex, just gentle moments with vernon -- lots of confessions of love

Vernon's lips brush over the back of your neck while his fingers link with yours bringing your hand with his over your thigh. His breath warm causing goosebumps to pop up across your flesh while his hips slowly press against you. His length buried so deeply inside of you that you see stars each time his hips meet your thighs making you moan his name on a breath.

"Baby...oh my god, you are perfect. Made for me, aren't you?" You nod making Vernon smile against your neck closer to your ear when you turn your head towards him trying to see him even just a bit. "I love you so much." The words linger in your chest and stomach as much as they do in your ears when he says them, your arousal only growing causing Vernon to groan low and soft into your ear.

"I love you too Vernon." You feel his smile widen before he presses his lips behind your ear, his arm moving with yours to hold you even tighter back against him while he quickens his pace only slightly. "Wanna make you feel so good darling. Like you make me feel...wanna make you cum for me."

His words mixed with how his cock was hitting you with each deep thrust was more than enough for you to give him what he wanted while he did exactly what he promised. The feeling of the coil snapping was euphoric, the sound escaping your lips so erotic that Vernon has to bite his own lip not to lose himself right then and there when you cum.

"Please Vernon..." You feel him nod, his face buried against your neck and shoulder, a breathy groan on his lips when he finally follows you into his own euphoria. The feeling of his release warm and filling causes you to moan his name. Your hand tightening in his, legs twisted around each other so that you can't tell where one of you began and the other ended.

"God, oh fuck. I love you, god I love you so much. You are so good, so perfect." You can't help but to smile at his confession and praising. His panting breaths still hot in the crook of your neck while he tries to calm down. Vernon smiles when you lean your head back against him, your hand only relaxing a bit as you circle your thumb along the back of his hand, a smile on your face.

"I love you too Vernon, more than anything."

——————————————————

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[demonpoxballad]

The Last Name - Chapter Six

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Word Count: ~1.9k

Summary: There's one more name from the past bouncing around Bucky's head. One more scribble ripped from the pages of Steve's old book. One more person to make amends with. Except this one is different: he can't remember doing anything wrong. No murdering or enabling of evil plans. No threats or political conquests. In fact, Bucky can't remember much of her at all.

Warnings: heavy violence and injuries, the Winter Soldier (assassinations), swearing

Series Masterlist

<< Chapter Five | Chapter Seven >>

Hi! If you're enjoying this series please reblog - I'm always having tag issues so I would really appreciate it <3 (love to all the people who do reblog and leave lovely comments) Also there's a bit in this inspired by this post here which made me laugh so much

New York, present-day:

The drone spoke with Fury’s voice: “I FUCKING WARNED YOU.”

Bucky threw his head back, rubbing his palm over his brow. “Ah. Shit.”

Sam tugged him under the desk, their knees knocking together as they struggled to curl up in the small space. “What the hell, Bucky?”

“I’m sorry! I - ”

The drone opened fire and the glass windows shattered. Sam shouted out a string of curses. Bucky leaned out from the desk to watch the drone slowly hover into Sam’s office, eerily quiet, nearly getting his head blown off by a single shot. “What are you doing?!” Sam whisper-screamed at him.

“Your shield,” Bucky whispered back. “I’m trying to get your shield.”

He risked another lean out, this time toppling the vibranium from where it stood against the wall. Bucky grabbed it with his left arm, wincing when a bullet ricocheted off the metal, the vibrations making his shoulder feel like it could shatter.

“Here,” he said, thrusting the shield into Sam’s arms.

Sam gritted his teeth and rolled his shoulders as best he could, sending Bucky a curt nod before standing up and launching the shield at the drone, splitting it in two. The metal became wedged in the wall opposite; the drone fell to the ground with a dull whirring sound.

“Huh,” Bucky said, standing up. “You’re really getting good at that.”

Sam smiled bashfully, walking over to yank his shield from the wall. “Thanks, old man.”

More whirring. Another drone came in and they both ducked, Bucky back below the desk, Sam behind the shield. It turned the corner and noticed Sam, heading straight for him, firing at high speed. Bucky vaulted over the table, twisting the drone until it wasn’t pointing at Sam anymore and drove it towards the ground, kneeling his whole weight against it.

“Fury, STOP.” One more drone crept up behind him and Sam broke that one in half as well.

“STOP!” Bucky shouted again.

“Why should I?” Fury’s voice sounded through the drone speaker. Two more drones lined up, pointed at each of their heads. “You ignored me, you did exactly the thing I told you not to. The two of you are interfering in things you don’t understand, like FUCKING SCHOOLBOYS.”

“Then help me to understand!” Bucky yelled, his voice breaking. “Please! I promise, I’ll be careful. I won’t do anything stupid.” He looked right into the drone camera. “I swear it!”

Fury was silent for a few moments, the drones restlessly vibrating like dogs on a leash.

“Hey, just give him a chance, Fury. Please,” Sam chipped in. Bucky felt like walking up to him and kissing him square on the cheek. “Bucky knows what it’s like to be alone and on the run. I trust him to not mess this up. I think you should too.”

“Don’t tell me what to do,” Fury snapped.

Sam held his hands up. “Okay. Sorry.”

There was an awkward pause then, Bucky and Sam both frozen in place, gazes flitting between each other and the drones still hovering.

“I don’t know much,” Fury began, putting them out of their misery. “And that’s definitely for good reason.” The red flashing lights on the drones switched off and Bucky relaxed, releasing his hold on the one still under his knee. “You were in Prague when you met. Both on missions. You – the Winter Soldier – were sent to take out a government official. From France, I think. And she was sent to take out you.” Bucky frowned, all his muscle fibres feeling weak and fragmented. “It was my last and only chance to have you killed. She was my last and only chance.”

“Wait,” Bucky interrupted him. “You sent her to kill me?”

“Can you blame me? You were a menace. You assassinated JFK.”

Sam’s eyes went wide, looking at Bucky with confusion and fear. “WHAT?”

“AS I was saying,” Fury continued. “She was my only option. It was now or never. I thought: she’s either going to nail this and save a lot of lives, or get killed in the process. She had no backup, no good tech. Just a two-way pager and some dodgy tracking equipment for surveillance. She made it work, though, of course. She was brilliant, the best I had. Too smart for her own good. Too kind, as well.

What happened - it happened because of me. I was too rigid, too inflexible. Didn’t want to adapt. But she bent over backwards to help your ass; when she didn’t even need to. I didn’t help her as much as I should have, and so you can see why . . . you can see why I feel so protective over her. Because I feel guilty.”

“This is . . . a lot to take in,” Bucky offered.

“I’ll say,” said Sam.

“I’m sorry, Bucky. I don’t know where she is now.”

Bucky sighed heavily and batted one of the drones to the ground with his metal arm. “You don’t sound very sorry.”

Fury chuckled. “I suppose that’s true. Have a little faith, though. If she wants you to find her, you will.”

“And if she doesn’t, we won’t?” Sam asked, his arms stoically crossed against his chest.

Bucky could hear Fury’s smile through the speaker. “Exactly right.”

***

“I could come with you?” Sam said from where he sat on Bucky’s bed.

“No, that’s okay Sam. I know you’re very busy and important.” Bucky had an open duffel out, and he was stuffing it full with the best tech him and Sam had been able to come up with. Along with a few extra t-shirts. “Thank you though.”

“I could lend you Redwing?”

Bucky laughed. “Only if you want him to end up in pieces again.”

“Yeah, I don’t know what I was thinking. You don’t deserve him anyway.”

Placing the last few items into his bag, a case full of bullets and his toothbrush, Bucky zipped it up and lugged it through to the kitchen.

Sam followed him. “I could . . .”

“Sam, really, I’m going to be fine. I promise. I actually feel really good about this.”

“Yeah, I know. You can call me though, if you need help. Okay?” Sam swiftly gripped Bucky’s shoulders and pulled him into a hug.

“Okay,” Bucky mumbled against Sam’s shoulder. “Thank you.”

They released each other and Bucky tried to exhibit a reassuring smile. He grabbed his phone from his back pocket to check the time. His lift was in two hours.

“I should probably go,” he said.

“Yeah. Yeah, of course.” Sam grasped Bucky’s hand briefly and backed up towards the apartment door. “Take care, man. Call me!” He mimicked a phone with his hand as he turned to leave, waggling it around next to his ear, a wide grin on his face.

Bucky stood smiling at the closed front door for a while, before grabbing a stool to sit down, checking his phone sat on the counter for the time every thirty seconds. Eventually a message came through from Joaquin, who Sam had insisted was going to Europe anyway. He’d be dropping Bucky off somewhere near Vienna, leaving him to make his own way from there. Bucky hadn’t made plans yet, he figured he’d improvise. Maybe he’d hire a fancy car and pretend his surname was Bond, drive through some mountains with the top down. Or maybe he’d just buy a fucking train ticket.

Twenty-four hours later, standing at the top of the tower, Bucky had begun to panic. He had got here fine, no worries. He liked Torres and so the plane journey was pleasant, if a little uncomfortable for the lack of seats. Getting to Prague from there was easy enough too; the train went direct from Vienna.

But he was here now, and Bucky felt like the tower must have been taller than it seemed, like maybe the high altitude was making him dizzy and confused. Because now there were memories.

Just flashes, flitting images, though even more disturbing in their brevity. His own hand slicing through a cord. A dark figure hurtling to the ground. His knife following suite.

Maybe he was wrong about all of this. Maybe he had done something bad to her, and just suppressed the memories to make himself feel better. Bucky thought that seemed a likely thing for himself to do. Maybe what happened to her twenty years ago was his fault, and she wouldn’t ever want to see or speak to him. That is, if he were ever able to find her. Maybe he should have gone home, right then, and forgotten he ever remembered her name. That would have been easier for everybody: no more screaming matches with Fury, or drones threatening to kill Sam.

Bucky thought of him then. Remembered his advice:

“Do the work.”

His stomach felt reminiscent of that moment at the top of the Cyclone, when he would fleetingly regret his time spent in the queue; when he would look down the barrel of the track, and then over to Steve’s green face, wishing they had never stepped on the ride. He felt stuck between the past and the present and the future. Can he wave a hand to the rollercoaster operator? Can the ride pause just for him? Can he clamber down the metal scaffolding? Please?

But Sam would be disappointed in Bucky, if he went home empty handed. Not because he thought Bucky wasn’t good enough, but because he believed he was. Bucky knew this because Sam had told him so, if not often through words, through honest and trusting eyes. If not through comfort, through unsentimental encouragement, impassive care, cynical inspiration. Bucky supposed that was a sentiment in and of itself, one he appreciated at that. Even if it did hurt sometimes.

He couldn’t go home yet.

“Are you okay, sir?” Bucky turned towards a hand gently tapping his shoulder. A kind looking man was stood there with a concerned smile, head endearingly tilted slightly to the side. His skin was brown and weather-beaten, and a small girl stood behind him, clutching at his trousers. Bucky turned his head back to where it was pointed before, towards the cobblestones below. He had been leaning over the edge, he realised. Heaving and whimpering in broad daylight. He felt the tears now, cooling in the breeze. Wiping his eyes with his sleeve, Bucky turned back to the man and nodded.

“Yes, sorry. I am okay.”

The man put his hand back on Bucky’s shoulder, rubbing it reassuringly. “Are you sure? Can I call someone for you?”

Bucky shook his head. Tried to smile. “No, really. I’m fine. Thank you for asking, though.”

“Okay. I’m sure it’ll be okay, whatever it is.” His daughter tugged on his trousers insistently. “You seem like you care too much to mess anything up. But hey!” He shrugged nonchalantly, gesturing indifference with his hands. “I’m just a simple farmer. What would I know?”

Bucky swallowed thickly and smiled more widely, nodding slightly. The man gave him another pat on the shoulder, a conspiratorial wink, and then turned away, smoothing the same hand over his daughter’s head as they went. Bucky let himself watch them walk, let himself feel jealous of the little girl. And then turned to go himself, down the stairs of the tower.

There was no more time for sentimental bullshit. He had a ghost to find.

<< Chapter Five | Chapter Seven >>

Tags: @mayasreadingnook @writing-for-marvel @howlermonkey69 @ginger-swag-rapunzel @cuddlycalcifer @bambamwolf87 @twinerd14 @violets-library @hallecarey1 @cjand10

[otptings]

Puzzle Piece

♡Idol: Wong Yukhei

♡Requested: Yessss Hi, I ult Lucas and love your writing, could you write a story with praising kink? A little bit of fluff too, just very cute and sexy stuff! He’s treats y/n as a goddess! Thank you and keep going with your amazing stories!

♡Word Count: 3.1k+

♡Genre: Angst, Smut mixed with Fluff

♡Warning: gossip, insecurities, mentions of weight gain, semi public sex, marking, slight breeding kink, cream pie, fingering, overstimulation, multiple orgasms (2)

♡Synopsis: Stylists noonas aren't always correct, especially when it comes to Lucas' relationship.

♡A/n : this is the fourth way that I've written this one shot, sorry that it is so late I just couldn't figure out how I wanted to do it and kept messing around with various ideas. Those other ideas might make an appearance on my page later on. Thank you for requesting, I hope you enjoyed it and if you did please like, reblog, or donate to my Ko-Fi in my bio, thank you so much for reading

Dating an idol is always an adventure, and after two years you’d think that you’d be used to everything that comes along with it. Having your picture taken while out and about, dates being interrupted by random schedules, fans recognizing one or both of you despite your masks and precautions, even being stalked by crazy saesangs. But there are still some things that you don’t think you’ll ever get used to. Fans asking for a picture of you and Lucas together, the random fan edits that will get set to your dms about your relationship, or even some of the endless praise that fans give you.

Another thing you’ll never get used to is the random VIP tickets and backstage passes gifted to you courtesy of Lucas. Bypassing the normal concert security checkpoints and being led directly to your special front row seat where WayV’s security watches over you diligently. It always gives you an adrenaline rush being able to properly see Lucas in his element in person, not just over a monitor in a cozy backstage room to keep you safe. Along with Lucas being a gigantic flirt, constantly winking at you or making sure to look in your direction while singing specifically saucy lyrics. Backstage is a whole nother story.

Being allowed backstage at certain award shows always leaves you in awe. Seeing the workers rushing around and doing all of the little things that make the concert possible in the first place, seeing all of the idols along with the boys warming up and goofing around for their vlogs. It’s a sight that made you grateful that you were ever able to go to concerts. This was only made better because Lucas always made sure that you had a place backstage during award shows while he was preparing for his performances. Winking at you while he’s getting his makeup and hair done, flirting with you while putting on his mic pack and in-ears, pulling you into a quick kiss before he’s hoarded backstage, and you’re led either to your observation or the crowd. It’s one of the things you can never get used to, even now while walking towards your observation room, Taeyong waving at you while he walks past getting ready to watch the performance himself.

“I don’t know what Lucas sees in her.” Your steps faltered as you passed by the dressing room, hearing the voices of the stylist noonas. “She’s not even that pretty and is always draping herself all over Lucas.”

“It’s so embarrassing. She’s so annoying.” You unconsciously walked closer to the door, trying to hear more of the conversation, feeling slight embarrassment run through you.

“She’s only using him for his money and fame. Like what girlfriend always asks for free VIP tickets?”

“A golddigger.”

“Exactly. I just don't understand how sweet Lucas falls for it.” Peeking around the corner you saw the two stylists giggling from where they sat on the couch.

“I mean, I’m so much prettier than her. And I’m skinnier than her, Lucas should really be dating me.”

“Plus Lucas deserves someone good for him, good for his image. She’s only bringing it down.”

“Are you okay?” You jumped feeling someone grab your shoulder, accidentally hitting the door causing the two stylists to stand up abruptly. Turning around you saw that it was only WayV’s managers, surely coming to check on you since you’ve never made it to the room. When you glanced back the stylist noonas at least had the nerve to act embarrassed while cleaning up their supplies. Nodding your head you allowed him to lead you to the observation room, checking on you once more before leaving to go backstage.

You tried to watch the performance, focusing on Lucas as he rapped and danced but their words kept flowing through your head.

Were you always clinging on to him? Sure you held his hand a lot but that’s because he was actually the clingy one. What if he was only doing it because he thought that you wanted it? Always hugging you, and kissing you only because he felt obligated to do it? Were you just using him for money and fame? Sure having fans recognize the two of you and compliment your relationship was a fun side effect but that’s not the only reason you were in a relationship. All of the concert tickets were gifts, you never purposely asked for them. You also never declined them. You may not have been as skinny as female idols but that doesn’t mean that you're fat. Right? Lucas is the one always taking you out on dates or buying you dinner and constant snacks, what if you were gaining weight. What if you were getting fat?

Shaking your head you tried to forget all of the negative thoughts and focus on the concert, Lucas didn’t try so hard convincing your manager all those months ago to allow you to come to concerts just for you to not even pay attention. But they refused to leave, the negative thoughts swirling around your mind so aggressively that you hadn’t realized the performance was over until Lucas gently knocked on the door, snapping you out of your thoughts.

“Babyyy.” Lucas’ face popped up in the opening, smiling happily at you despite the sweat dripping down his face. Weakly smiling at him you stood up reading to open your arms for him before the words of you being clingy echoed in your mind. “Did you like our performance?”

Nodding your head you gave him two thumbs up. If Lucas realized your awkwardness he didn’t let in on it, only opening the door fully and holding his hand out to you. “Are you hungry? I can find something for you to eat since we still have a couple more hours here.” Hastily shaking your head, you tried to make your smile bigger, hoping that it would distract Lucas from your strange behavior considering you never declined food.

“I’m fine Lucas, anyway don’t you need to get out of your performance clothes?” Lucas nodded his head before tossing his arm over your shoulder, leading you back towards the dressing room to put on the suit that he arrived in. Or so you thought.

Instead of taking you back to the dressing room the rest of WayV was occupying he led you into one of the single bathrooms, quickly pushing you inside and locking the door behind the both of you.

“Lucas? We don’t have time for a quickie. You need to change your clothes and meet up with the boys.” Lucas turned back around toward you, trying to resist the urge to place a kiss onto your pouty lips and get to the root of the problem.

“What’s wrong?” You opened your mouth to deny it but Lucas quickly cut you off, “Don’t tell me that it’s nothing because I know you better than that. You’re being really quiet, and not greeting me with a hug and kiss like you normally are.” Sighing you rubbed your hands up and down your arms, knowing that it was no use lying to Lucas.

“I feel like you could do better than me. Not someone who always takes your tickets and clings onto you. You'd be better off with another idol.” Staring at your feet you waited for the inevitable rejection that was to come, Lucas would realize all of the stylist noonas were correct and would leave you. Maybe he’d get with someone in Twice, they’re all gorgeous and skinny. Lucas’ hands cupped your cheeks, forcing you to look at him while fighting the urge to let out a laugh at your obscene statement.

“Do better? Why would I want to do better than the person who’s perfectly made for me?” The typical heat rising to your cheeks and urge to smile didn’t happen as usual, so focused on the negative words of the stylists. “What made you think like this? Actually, who made you think like this? The tickets to concerts are all gifts and I don’t even have to pay for them, I actually cling onto you more, and I like your affection anyway. It makes me feel special, and no one else is better for me than who. So once more, who could be better than my gorgeous baby in front of me?”

“The stylists.” You muttered, not wanting to ruin the sweet moment of Lucas always knowing the right things to say.

“Which stylists? They had no right to say any of that about you especially when it’s false.”

“Two of your stylists, the ones with the red and blonde hair.” Lucas nodded understandingly, a plan underway to make sure that they knew better than to speak about you like that.

“”Can I show you how much I love you?”

“Don’t you have to go back to the crowd soon?” Lucas only shrugged.

“I need to make sure you’re good first.” Timidly nodding your head a smile spread across Lucas’ face as he spun the two of you around and pressed you against the door. Lucas’ right hand cupped the back of your neck, keeping you in place while his lips pressed against your. His left hand slid underneath your dress, fingers toying with the lace that covered your thin panties, not wasting any time to get you aroused. You could feel the smirk on his lips when you nipped your bottom lip and sucked on it drawing out a loud moan from you. Lucas pulled away and you rolled your eyes, already knowing that teasing was going to follow.

“Can’t wait for everyone to hear all the pretty noises you make for me.”His lips reconnected with yours, this time easily parting allowing him access. Slipping his tongue into your mouth you moaned again at the taste of him, the sweet candy that he always eats before performances still coating his tongue. You’ve never been more grateful for the easy access that a dress gives you - besides when Lucas bent you over in one of the unoccupied dressing rooms during Resonance filming, a very awkward conversation ensued when Taeil accidentally walked past - when Lucas pulled your panties to the side and slid two fingers past your folds and leant down to your neck.

A fun fact that not many people don’t know is that Lucas is a great multi-tasker, and it shows in the way that his fingers skillfully worked over your clit as he sucked a bruise under your ear, much too high to be covered with the low neck of your dress. All you could do was run your fingers through his hair, biting back the whimper that wanted to come out of your throat. His fingers slipped past your folders, finally pushing in two fingers causing you to throw your head back against the door. Lucas could only lean back and admire you, the growing whimper that you were hiding finally bubbling past your lips, hickeys lining your neck showing off that you were only his.

“Do you really think I’d want anyone else? No one else is as sensitive as you, dripping all over my fingers.” Lucas’ voice paired with his fingers brushing over your g spot caused another loud moan to slip from your lips, if it wasn’t for the intense pleasure that Lucas was giving you, you might’ve had the nerve to be embarrassed over how wet you were. “You’re so perfect baby, just like this.”

“Please Xuxi.” You couldn’t help the desperation that bled into your voice, Lucas always knowing your body better than you did, knowing all of the little things that made you wet, and knowing the perfect way to use that knowledge to have you coming undone underneath of him. Even now as you looked at him, his stereotypical smirk on his face as he watched you beg him, a multiple of ‘please’ and ‘Xuxi’ leaving your mouth as his fingers continued to work on your g spot bringing your orgasm dangerously close.

“You can cum baby. But we’re still not done.” That’s all that you needed to hear before your orgasm hit you, a loud cry on your lips as his fingers continued to move, helping you ride out your orgasm until you were overstimulated and working towards another one.

“Xuxi.” Lucas couldn’t deny that he wanted to give you another orgasm on his fingers, especially as your thighs started to shake and your hands pulled his hair causing him to let out a groan, but as he felt his cock twitch he knew that he really just wanted to be inside of you. Plus, both of you did need to be out in the audience to hear the award results or else that would be just another scandal that he would have to deal with.

“What do you want, baby? Use your words, I’ll give you anything that you want.”

“Need you, please Xuxi, need you to fuck me.” Lucas cooed at you, loving just how needy you were.

“You know I can never say no to my baby girl.” You felt heat rush to your cheeks as his patronizing tone, but it soon left as he pulled his fingers from your cunt, placing them in his mouth and sucking your cum off of them. Letting out a loud exaggerated moan that caused you to weakly smack his arm.

“You’re annoying.” Lucas only smiled happily before pulling his pants, sighing from relief as his cock was finally free from the tight confine of his leather pants.

“You love it.” Gripping the back of your thighs Lucas lifted you up, causing you to squeal before wrapping your legs tightly around him. Leaning in and placing multiple pecks on your lip, a giggle leaving you as your arms slid around his neck.

“Maybe I do.” Lucas leaned back so that he could see you properly, your swollen lips parted slightly as you watched him, curious of his next move.

“You know that I love you. Right? It doesn’t matter what anyone else says about our relationship, you're perfect for me.” All of the attention from Lucas made you shy, a shocking feat after dating for two years, opting to place your head in the crook of his neck as you nodded. Lucas grabbed the base of his cock with one his free hands, lining it up with your entrance and bottoming out with one thrust. Your arms tightened around his neck and you couldn’t help the breathy moan that you let out at the feeling of his thick cock stretching your walls. Lucas was no better, squeezing your thighs tightly as he let out a low groan, the feeling of being properly inside of you with your warm walls tightening around him.

“Fuck, you’re always so tight.” Lucas slowly started to thrust inside you, a little awkward at first due to the angle but soon he had set a quick pace that had you pulling his hair harshly as his cock massaged your walls.

“You think anyone else could take me like this?” You let out a loud whine at his words, feeling the tile digging into your back from how hard he pressed you against it, his balls slapping against your ass with every brutal thrust. “No one else could take my cock as perfectly as you, fuck, no one else could even make me as hard as you.” Another loud moan as he changed the angle of his thrust, reaching deeper spots that were previously untouched by anyone else in your past, only proving his point of being made for him as his cock perfectly massaged over your a spot causing your eyes to roll back. “You’re made for my cock, and so pretty while taking it at all.” Lucas leaned back slightly, never stopping his brutal thrusts as one of his hands cupped your chin, sliding his thumb over your bottom lip, which you happily accepted and sucked on, swirling your tongue around causing Lucas to let out another loud groan.

“My pretty girl, I wouldn’t trade you for anything in the world.” Lucas’ sweet words greatly contrasted his brutal pace that had you steadily clenching around his cock, rapidly bringing you to your second orgasm at a pace that you couldn’t even warn him before it was washing you, you release coating his thighs as you let out a muffled moan around his thumb.

“Gorgeous.” Lucas took his thumb from your mouth, increasing his pace as you cried out from the overstimulation. “So close baby.” Lucas barely got his words out before he was twitching inside of you, loud groan leaving his mouth as his warm cum spurted into your tired cunt, leaking out as he continued to fuck it deeper into you, riding out both of your orgasms.

His hands slid from your thighs up to your waist, wrapping his arms around you tightly while nuzzling your neck. Both of you enjoying the comfortable silence, a moment of calm before you will be forced back out to deal with the chaos that comes with an award show. Lucas gently set you down on your shaky legs, trying to hide his laugh as you gripped the wall for support.

“This is your fucking fault. Now I’m going to walk around with cum in my panties.” Lucas only shrugged while pulling wiping your cum off of his cock, tossing away the napkin before pulling his pants up that were surprisingly not noticeably soiled.

“Nuh uh. I had to make sure my gorgeous girlfriend knew that I wanted no one else but her. Now you know there’s no one else that I would risk getting pregnant except for you.” Scoffing you tried to hit Lucas, only for him to catch your hand and pull you closer to him, his typical love sick look fading into something more serious.

“You are the only one that I want, you’re my other half, my missing puzzle piece. I don’t care what anyone else says, you are the only person for me. Okay?” Nodding your head you muttered a quiet okay, Lucas placed a quick kiss on your neck before turning you around. “And look just how pretty you are all marked up.” All embarrassment that was hidden while y’all where having sex showcased itself in that moment, your ears and cheeks heating up as you looked at yourself. Hickeys lined your neck, weirdly resembling an L in a way that you had no hopes of trying to cover it with anything more than a gigantic hood over your head. There was no way you could walk out of the bathroom like this.

“Now all the stylists know you’re mine.”

[wordsnstuff]

20 Mistakes To Avoid in Enemies To Lovers

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Weak Conflict

There should always be a strong, compelling source of tension between two people who are considered enemies. Even if their rivalry stems from external sources, such as bad blood between families or competing for a number one spot, there should always be a concrete reason why they hate each other.

Not Explaining Forgiveness

When one of these conflicts subsides, or a tense moment resolves, it should be justified. Tension and emotions shouldn’t disappear because you’re trying to stuff romantic moments in here and there. If one of your characters crosses a line and the other character chooses to forgive them, there needs to be a clear and understandable reason. It doesn’t always have to sit well with the reader. Your character can make a blatantly stupid decision, but it needs to serve the plot. 

No Tension To Be Found

If your characters have to verbally or physically assault each other to demonstrate the tension between them, you’re doing it wrong. If they have to kiss for the reader to see that they like each other, you’re doing it wrong. Tension is in the little things. It’s in the instances that most people would overlook, but your characters zero-in on because the subtext is too thick to gloss over. Tension is the most important plot device in enemies-to-lovers stories, so it requires a lot of time and attention to minute details. 

Conflict Solved Too Easily

If the rivalry between your characters is one misstep after another, with immediate forgiveness following, the tension won’t build correctly. You’re working your way up to a boiling over moment. A moment where everything comes out and then, once resolved, makes way for the romantic feelings to enter. If the conflicts don’t slowly build on each other, that boiling moment will come out of nowhere and be less satisfying to read. Don’t let your characters off that easily. Enemies aren’t constantly letting things slide. 

Characters Changing For One Another

People don’t need to be exactly the same to see attractive qualities in one another. It’s true that relationships shift your perspective and that it occasionally results in outward changes in behavior, but one or both characters shouldn’t mold their personality around their partner. 

Stupid Potion

If one of your characters has to become oblivious or avoid critical thought to maintain a relationship with that character, you haven’t made the two characters compatible enough. This is especially true when one or both of your character’s identity revolves around a higher intelligence. They should have enough in common that there doesn’t have to be a giant shift in one or both personalities to work as a couple. 

The Relationship Brings Them Down

The thing about enemies to lovers stories is that the happy endings are usually an indication of the author’s view of what is and is not forgivable in a potential partner. The acceptance of someone’s past mistakes, current flaws, and future struggles. When a love story ends with a couple that repeatedly lower each other or hurt each other, that sends a bad message, and that is your responsibility to avoid. It doesn’t need a happy ending, but it should never have a destructive one. 

Writing Abuse Instead of Rivalry

There is a big difference between writing two equals who have a rivalry slowly falling in love and putting aside their differences, and writing an abusive, predatory love interest who repeatedly hurts, manipulates, and gaslights the main character. Just because you can imagine the character forgiving them doesn’t mean they’re a good partner. Cheating, physical abuse, isolation, passive aggression, and manipulation are not character flaws. They’re not “mistakes” that the character needs to forgive in order to save their relationship. It’s abuse, and when you write a story between an abuser and a victim that has a happy ending, that has consequences. 

Revealing Feelings In A Cliché Way

This is very subjective, however, there are also a plethora of tropes to choose from and an infinite amount of alterations you can apply to make them your own. The objective, however, is to build up to it in a way that creates a satisfying payoff, and an interesting moment that serves all of the work you’ve done to build to it. There’s nothing worse than reading chapters and chapters of build up, anticipating a big moment where sparks fly, and then having all of that tension result in a sad sputter of mediocrity.

Instant Trust

Trust is difficult to build between two people, especially when they have a complicated past. Trust is earned, no matter who you are or what you’ve been through, it’s always a process. It’s never inherent. When two characters have a history of betrayal or hurt, trust is going to be even harder to develop between them, and that process is an opportunity for more tension, character development, conflict, and eventually a satisfying resolution. Trust development is a major plot device, and I recommend you take advantage of it. It’s also a huge opportunity for building romantic tension amongst the angst of trials and tribulations. 

Why Do They Hate Each Other, Though?

There’s a thin line between love and hate, and that line is infatuation; obsession. So, what put the two of them on the bad side of that line? This reason is the main conflict. The overarching plot begins with the point where that rivalry either begins or is challenged after a long while of stagnation, and it ends with the two characters crossing over that line into love. You need to make that beginning point very clear.

Rivalry Shouldn’t Just Dissolve

There needs to be a transitionary period that is tense and awkward with scattered moments that make the effort worth it to both of them. There should be a “Well, we hated each other last week and then they did some really sweet things and now I’m not so sure. Maybe we’re starting to become friends now? I feel really excited when I see them, so I must not hate them anymore, right?” period. 

Complete Opposites

Yes, opposites can attract. Yes, completely different people can fit together very well and have a happy relationship, but this is a cliché and is, in most cases, poorly thought out with little to no originality. 

Love With No Reason

Just like your characters need a reason to hate each other, they need a reason to love each other. There has to be something that makes them work. Not just a common hobby or characteristic or exterior aspect they share, but something that makes them fit together. If they love each other because... they can, your reader will feel like they’re watching two stupid, lonely people tolerate each other’s flaws in the interest of sex or companionship for 100 pages. 

No Actual Conflict Resolution

Relationships are built through conflict resolution. Communication, empathy, effort, and understanding between two people who work to make each other happy. Hollow forgiveness is not apart of that process, and if that’s all there is, you’re not developing a realistic relationship between compatible people, you’re depicting a toxic relationship that, in the case of these origins, can be abusive. 

Underusing Sexual Tension

Sexual tension is great. It’s easy to develop, it has a satisfying payoff, and it doesn’t take up a lot of space on the pages. It doesn’t have to result in x-rated material, especially if you’re writing for a young adult audience, but it’s simple and effective. 

No Awkward Transition Period

A large chunk of the plot should be awkward and uncomfortable to watch. The transition should be organic and make sense for your characters, but all organic movement contains struggle. Nobody goes from hating each other to loving each other overnight, and relationships are complicated and require hard work. Show this.

Catalogue Characters

There are enough stories out there with cardboard characters and self-insert protagonists, especially in romance. Make your protagonists unique and individual. Make your characters diverse and interesting to read about. Readers should have a bit of wiggle room for imagination, but that doesn’t mean they should be filling in the blanks like your characters are Mad Libs. Don’t close your eyes and point at character archetypes to form your cast. It’s obvious and lazy. 

Stagnant Tone

The tone of these stories often falls flat because in the interest of building tension, writers ignore purposeful tone shifting, scene-to-scene. Change it up, make it potent, and make a lasting impact during important moments. Suspense and anticipation shouldn’t just build during the climax and resolution. 

Bad Pacing

When your readers spend hours reading a story that promises a romantic payoff, they expect to see some of it. I think that a three act structure is really effective with this type of arc, with the first third being devoted to building rival tensions, the middle third being the shift from rivals to friends, and the last third building that romantic tension and ending with a happy resolution. 

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Curiosity Killed the Cat | Bucky Barnes x reader

Requested by anon / Summary: You and Bucky are best friends. You’re reading best friends to lover fanfictions about Bucky on tumblr and leave your phone open. Bucky can’t help but be nosey and wonder what you’ve been doing this entire time smiling and laughing at something you were reading on your phone. 

A/N: I hope you like it! xx 

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

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

! Warning: mention of sex and porn, but nothing in detail at all 

You didn’t really like him like that? Did you? You two were best friends but why would you be reading best friends to lover fanfiction which included him. These thoughts ran rampant in the mind of Bucky after his recent discovery. He shouldn’t have looked but curiosity held on tightly and he needed to know why you were smiling and laughing at your phone for the last hour. 

You were seated on the couch, a blanket wrapped around your legs and your face buried in your phone. He’d walked in and announced his presence to you, but still took notice of the way you jumped and held your phone against your chest like you were doing something you weren’t supposed to be doing. 

“You look like you just got caught with your hand in the cookie jar.” Bucky chuckles, taking a seat next to you. 

You let out an uncomfortable laugh, “I didn’t know anyone was home.” You sat up a little straighter and turned your body to face Bucky so he couldn’t see your phone, “You scared me.”

“Sorry,” He motions to the tv with his finger, “You mind?” 

“No course not.” You hand him the remote, “I’m not watching it.” 

He settles into the couch and begins flipping through the channels. Out of the corner of his eye he watched you turn your attention back to your phone. Then for the next hour he would see you smile and laugh every once in a while. At one point you got all giddy and excited about something. 

“What is wrong? You watching a funny video?” He knows you like to watch tiktoks, but there wasn’t any sound coming from your phone, which only made him even more confused on what you could be doing on your phone. 

“No.” You left your answer at that and it only made Bucky even more determined to find out what was on that phone. 

“Pinning to your pinterest?” 

You looked up at him, a look of surprise on your face, “You know what pinterest is?” 

He nods proudly, “I’m not that behind. I’m slowly bringing myself up to speed of the current time.” 

You laugh softly and gently nudge him with your foot, “Good for you, Buck.” He added you to the list of people who could call him Buck. You ignored the question and got off the couch with a stretch, “I need a snack. You want something?” 

“Can you make some of those.. cheese things?” He looks up at you innocently. 

“You mean mozzarella sticks?” 

He nods, “Those.” 

“Yes, I can make you those cheese things.” You pat him on the shoulder as you walk by, “You know they aren’t that hard to make. You just put them in the oven.” 

“I know but last time I made them, there wasn’t any cheese left in them. Plus, you make them the best.” You’d left your phone on the couch. Now was the time. He glances into the kitchen and you’re paying no attention to him. 

“You cooked them too long.” You entered the kitchen, still talking to Bucky, “I usually only cook them for 11 mins and turn them half way through.” 

He stopped listening once he knew you were in the kitchen and grabbed your phone. Yes, you left it open. He furrows his eyebrows at the screen. Tumblr? What is tumblr? “mmhmm, yeah I must have.” He checks on the kitchen once more; you’re standing with your back to him.

He scrolls through and at the top it says Bucky Barnes x reader. You’re reading something about him? As he makes his way down the page, it’s full of stories that are best friends to lovers. It only confuses him even more. You two were best friends. You were reading stories about him that included best friends to lovers. So, did you love him or something? 

His eyes went wide at one of the stories. It went into detail about sex, using some very provocative language. He shifts uncomfortably in the seat, but as he started reading more, his pants started to feel a little bit tighter. 

“What the hell are you doing?!” 

He jumps; now he’s the one who looks like he’s been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. His eyes are wide, “Porn.” He blurts out the first thing that comes to mind, looking up at you. 

“With my phone?!” You snatch the phone out of his hand and it’s on the page you’d been reading. You flushed with embarrassment, “This.. it’s not what it looks like.” How would you explain this to him? 

“Oh look my shows back on.” He turns his eyes toward the TV.

You stand there for a moment, quite unsure what to do. Did he know what you were reading? How much did he see? Now he’s acting like it didn’t happen, so do you do the same thing?

You push your legs to walk back to the kitchen, taking a seat at the table. How could you have been so stupid to leave your phone open next to him? You could have swore you locked it. You groaned and laid your head on the table. “Stupid, stupid.” You whisper, lifting your head and setting it back down on the table with a thump at each stupid. 

And now he’s sitting on the couch his mind running rampant with thoughts. He shouldn’t have looked, but if you’re reading those best friends to lovers, could it reflect your real feelings toward Bucky? Did you love him? He knew what his true feelings toward you were. 

You jumped as the timer on the oven went off. Standing you grabbed an oven mit from the drawer and pulled the pan of mozzarella sticks from the oven, putting them on the stovetop to cool. As soon as that pan hit the stovetop, your body was spun and you came face to face with Bucky, his face serious. 

“I don’t know what tumblr is, but you were reading best friends to lovers stories and I hope it’s a reflection of your real feelings toward me because this is about to be very awkward if it’s not.” And that’s when he grabbed your face in his hands and pressed his lips against yours. 

Your lips returned the kiss and your hands went to his hair and that was the only answer he needed. Thank god for Best Friends to Lovers Fanfiction. 

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[dreamingmanip]

“MADNESS LOVE” PART 2

*GIF NOT MINE*

You can find part 1 here.

Pairing: Jay Halstead x Reader

Warnings: None (if I need one let me know in my ask!)

Prompt: NONE

Word Count: 2,026

A/N: Hi guys! Like I said before, this is part 2 of 3 for this imagine. I loved this fic so much I could’t stop writing. I hope you liked it, like always if you like this, please like it and reblog it. This would be pin on my page so you can find it without problems.

The tears kept rolling down your face all the way home, you didn't bother to wipe them away when you met your neighbor in the lobby, asking you if you were okay. You weren't, you were holding yourself to not break down in the middle of the hallway, making a scene. 

Your keys jingled while you opened the front door, your hands trembling; you shut the door behind you. There was some light coming from outside the window but mostly it was dark,and that's how you felt, as if somebody took the light inside you leaving you blind. You leaned you back on the door, your body sliding down to the cold floor, sitting there looking at nothing. A cell phone started ringing in the distance but you didn't want to move. Your eyes fluttered trying to focus in the dark, searching in your jacket for it, the screen on the phone  glowed  and illuminated your face, Jay's name showed up, and the killing pain came back to your chest just looking at his name, so you decided to turn it off. 

God knows how long you were there until you decided to stand up and go to your room to take a shower, put on some pajamas and grabbed the bottle of wine that was in the back of your fridge taking it to your room. Jay's words echoing in your head, over and over again.

Did he commit to his job, to his Unit, that he was fine letting you go? His words were etched in your mind. Of course you understood the full situation, he was right; you were the new still, not a detective, but that wasn't what was hurting you, it was realizing how he believed you both could never say anything because your jobs were more important. 

Somehow you fell asleep before finishing the bottle of wine. The clock on your nightstand began to chime, it seemed that you had barely fallen asleep. Your room was still dark thanks to the curtains but some rays of sun could creep in. You stretched out your hand to turn off the alarm, and at the same time, your cell phone began to ring, you probably turned it on again in the middle of the night, you were a cop and sometimes you did stuff automatically; you raised it a little to be able to answer.

"Hello?"

“Hey Y/N, please don’t tell me you were still in bed.”

Your voice was a little croaky when you spoke.

“Uhm, no I wasn’t. My throat feels weird this morning, so… yeah.”

Kim’s voice was joyful even on the phone, you turned to see the clock, in a bright green color it said “8:15 AM”. You sat up immediately, moving the soft sheets wrapped on your body away while Kim was still talking.

“...So I called Kevin and we decided to bring you some donuts and your favorite coffee before the event. We’re 10 minutes away.”

“Fuck”.

You murmured getting in the bathroom. Kim looked at Kevin a little concerned.

“Sorry Kim, I spilled some water on the table but, uhm, yeah. See you in 10”.

Ending the call, you got in the shower, didn’t even wait for the warm water so you screamed a little feeling the coldness on your skin. The fastest shower you ever took in your life, leaving you with only five minutes to get dressed up and do your hair. 

You were in the final touches of your makeup when a few small knocks on the front door warned you of the arrival of Burgess and Atwater. Taking one last look at the mirror to put a smile on your face before one of them would notice something, you felt anxious and devastated and trying to hide it from officers and detectives required a lot of self control.

Both of your friends smiled when you opened the door, Kim was holding a little box with cartoon drawings of donuts on the top while Kevin was offering you a cup of your favorite coffee. All of you wearing uniforms.

“Thanks guys, I barely ate something this morning”.

You took the coffee from Kevin’s hand, taking a little sip before walking out of your apartment, closing the door behind you. The three of you were talking about random stuff all the way to the car and to the downtown, well, Kim was the one talking with Kevin, you were mentally preparing yourself to see Jay, it wasn’t working at all.

“So Y/N, Jay called me last night, which was a little weird if I have to admit, he asked me about you”.

Kim was looking at you through the view rear mirror, you blinked a couple of times without saying anything. Why did Jay call Kim to ask her for you? You had no idea and that's exactly what you said.

“Honestly, I don’t know. I was at home last night. He’s weird sometimes you know that.”

“I know, right? He asked me if you were with me last night but we were at Molly’s. Adam, Hailey, Kevin and I, we miss you by the way.”

Kevin looked at you, knowing something went wrong between you and Jay.

“We invited Halstead to celebrate but he said he was busy filling some forms for Trudy after shift.”.

“Well, I don’t know him so well. I think he prefers to be alone. Look, the press is here too”.

You passed some news cars, reporters were setting their cameras to get a better view. Jay hated this, he wasn’t comfortable seeing his face on the paper just for doing his job and also Voight taught them that when his unit was formed, and everyone did almost the same.

You got out of the car after Kevin parked near the place. Hailey was the first who noticed you, she raised her hand and started to wave it. You smiled, Kim was doing the same and started walking towards her, Kevin patted your shoulder making you go slowly.

“What happened last night? Jay called me too, he said he was worried about you”.

“Well, he doesn't have to do that anymore. We’re done”. 

“Wait, what?”

Kevin stopped for a moment, that news caught him by surprise.

“Y/N, are you sure of this? Don’t get me wrong, I’ll support any decision you make, all the way, but I know your feelings. Working together could get harder.”

You nodded your head, you knew it. It was going to get hard in every possible way, seeing him every morning not able to steal a kiss from each other at the coffee room or staying up watching a movie with your head on his chest; suddenly a bunch of memories came back to your mind, you shook your head slowly, you gave him a side smile.

“Kev, I got this. I’m gonna be fine. C’mon”.

You bumped his arm with yours while you reached out to Hailey and Kim, for a moment Hailey looked at you and nodded, Jay talked to her too. You nodded back to her.

A few moments later, Voight and Trudy joined you. In the place there were a small, but considerable, number of people but no matter how much you searched with your eyes, you could not find Jay. The coordinators asked you to take your seats, for obvious reasons the Intelligence Unit was in the front row, it wasn't until that moment that you could see Jay in his uniform, you had always liked the way he looked in it. However, he didn't seem very happy, he seemed calm but you noticed the pressure on his jaw, his straight shoulders and his gaze in front of him, but he wasn't looking at you.

He was sitting next to some superiors in the platform in front of you. The Superintendent stepped up to the microphone to start his speech, some photographers started to point their cameras to the people and then to the "big hero". 

The ceremony wasn't too long, you all met in the back while reporters were asking now questions to some people. Voight was smiling, which was rare, while Jay was walking towards the group. 

Adam was the first to talk, and like always, started to make some jokes. 

"There he is, the super cop Jay Halstead. The man of the year!"

He padded Jay's shoulder, he had a shy smile on his lips. Uncomfortable by all the attention he was receiving. 

"Thanks Ruzek, I think the cartel in Mexico didn't hear you". 

Everybody laughed, including you. Jay looked at you for a moment, actually felt more like 2 seconds. 

"Alright, let's go back to the district and back to work. We can celebrate later at Molly's". 

Voight spoke and all dismissed to the cars, you went with Kevin again, this time Kim decided to ride with Ruzek, the awkward sensation was still there so she didn't want it to push it further and make you uncomfortable. Once inside the car, you kept quiet all the way, Kevin knew you were lying but he also knew how you dealt with a broken heart. 

You went to the locker room and just arrived at the district, it was too damn warm to keep it all day, also it was used just for events like this. When you got to the door you spotted Hailey, she was putting her badge on her belt. You kept your head down, trying to avoid her, you greet her with a quiet voice. 

"Uhm Y/N, can I talk to you for a moment?" 

"Yeah, sure."

Hailey closed the door and crossed her arms on her chest, her  cautious blue eyes looking back at you. 

"Look, when Jay told me he was dating you, I told him it was stupid. Not worth it if your careers could be over just for a romance that could last just a few months". 

You knew Hailey, she was a bad ass woman and probably didn't say it to her so often but you admire her. She was serious, she didn't like to play games when it comes to her friends. 

"I'm sorry for telling you this, but that was before seeing how good you are together as partners and as a couple. I was scared for both of you because I love you and I care about you. I'm not on Jay's side or your side, left me out that but Y/N, it's not easy to Jay open his heart like he did with you. He doesn't want to lose you and I guess the only way he can control that feeling it's not letting anybody know about it. Forgive me if I was a little obtrusive". 

You didn't notice there were a few tears on your cheek, cleared your throat to be available to speak but you failed at finding the right words, it took you a few seconds to speak. 

"It's okay Hailey, but what about me? What about my feelings? I know Jay is right, we could lose our jobs but, why make me feel like his dirty secret?"

Hailey took a few steps closer, her blue eyes now looking sad.

"Of course your feelings are valid. Don't get me wrong, I have been in that position before and it's not easy. All I'm saying is, you shouldn't leave things unspoken, this stuff gets heavy later."

She hugged you tight, rubbing your back. You held her too, she knew what she was talking about, you never asked before 'cause she was very private but you believed her at anything she said. 

After changing your clothes, you came back to the bullpen, nobody was talking, you sat at your chair and looked around; it seemed like everybody was tense for no reason. Voight was in his office and the unit was on some paperwork. You felt someone looking at you, directly. There was no need to look up, you knew Jay was looking at you from time to time. You haven’t talked to each other yet, you needed to, but that wasn’t the right place.

Tagged some beautiful people ✨:

@itsdesiree86 @mrspeacem1nusone  @anotherfan07 @thestarrynightslover

[eternally-writing]

chain reaction | jjk

genre: fluff and angst

rating: PG

pairing: Jungkook x reader

theme: college!au , enemies to lovers, series

word count: 1.3k

warnings: light swearing

synopsis: A semester with your mortal enemy, Jeon Jungkook, as your lab partner was bound to be an experience to remember.

banner by me!

A/N: hey everyone! This is my first series that I’m writing and I’m so excited to share it with all of you! If you want to be tagged in future parts, reblog and mention that you want to be tagged in the caption, or you can send me an ask!

--♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡--

“You’re late”

Swinging your backpack onto the lab bench beside you, you glare at your lab partner.

“Shut up Jeon, it’s only 8:04am and our TA hasn’t even finished introducing the lab yet”.

Introduction to Organic Chemistry was all set up to be your favorite class. You were a chemistry genius in high school, your professor had amazing “rate my professor” reviews, and the class fit perfectly into your schedule, finishing right at 2:00pm so you could walk back to your dorm under the radiance of the afternoon sun.

It was all going well until you walked into your 8:00AM lab and found that due to budget cuts, all labs would now be done in pairs. And you had been paired with none other than the bane of your existence, Jeon Jungkook. As if doing an amide reduction wasn’t hard enough on its own, you had to do it alongside the biggest thorn in your side.

You couldn’t quite pinpoint exactly what it was about him that irked you so much. Maybe it was the way the girls tried to flirt with his constantly over the open flame of a Bunsen burner, or the way that he sucks up to your extremely old TA in order to get full marks on his procedural skills, or maybe it’s the fact that he somehow managed to look effortlessly put together at 8am on a Tuesday morning, while you looked (and felt) like absolute crap.

Either way, you were counting down the seconds until this semester would be over and you wouldn’t have to look at Jeon Jungkook again, but time seemed to be moving extra slow today.

“Late and spacing out today? Wow, lucky me to have you as a lab partner.”

Scoffing at him, you adjusted your protective glasses and readied your labware for today.

“180 minutes until I’m free. That’s it,” you thought to yourself.

“Technically it’s 170 minutes now, but if we don’t get started someone soon so we can hand in our product by 11am, we’re going to be here for a lot longer than that.”, snapped Jungkook next to you, already starting to mix chemicals together in a beaker.

Well, looks like your habit of accidentally saying things out loud gets worse when you’re tired.

“Let’s just try and get through this lab today without stepping on each other’s toes Jeon, okay?” you said, trying to catch up to Jungkook in the lab.

There was one part of chemistry labs you disliked the most. The waiting time. In some labs it was only 30 minutes, while in other labs it had taken almost an hour, but the constant in all of the situations was that waiting made it feel like time was passing at an infinitely slower rate. Taking out your laptop would violate lab safety protocol, and you couldn’t do any further steps in your lab until your reaction in your solution was done progressing under the fume hood. Since there were no other options, the only other thing left to do in moments like this was talk to Jeon Jungkook.

“So I was -”

“What did you -”

Yikes, add the awkwardness of starting conversation with Jeon Jungkook to the reasons you never talk to him.  You decided to pause and let him carry on with whatever he was saying, giving him a semi-pleasant smile to hopefully help distract from the embarrassment you were feeling.

“I was going to ask what you wanted to do our lab presentation on,” said Jungkook.

Your eyes widened at his statement. Looking at the whiteboard situated at the side of the room, you saw that in the 4 minutes you were late to your lab you may not have missed your TA explaining the procedure, but you did the big words on the board that said:

“FINAL LAB PRESENTATION: 3 weeks from now, worth 20% of your grade, done with your lab. 5-10 page paper and 10-15 minute oral presentation”.

Unable to contain your discontentment with the situation, you let out a groan and leaned back in your chair in frustration, almost falling off your lab stool in the process.

“Well aren’t you just little Miss Sunshine today? I’m not thrilled about this either, but I’d rather pull out my eyelashes than have to repeat this course again next semester,” scoffed Jungkook.

No morning ice coffee + Jeon Jungkook being annoying + a looming group project was more enough to make your head hurt.

“Can we just talk about this later Jeon? My brain can’t process this right now,” you pleaded as you put your head in your hands.

Leaning closer to you, Jungkook spoke at a whisper-level near your ear so nobody else would hear.

“Is your brain too busy processing my charm, sunshine? Don’t worry, I’ll try and tone down the charisma for you,” he joked with a smirk.

Your head went from being in your hands to plopping flat onto your (no longer sterile) lab counter at Jungkook’s comment.

First of all, ew. You don’t know how Jungkook was possibly picking up girls by talking like that. Second of all, charm and charisma were probably two words that you would NEVER associate with Jungkook, so his statement was definitely wrong.

A project with Jungkook meant that you would be spending a LOT more time with him, and the prospect of that happening made you wince internally. Group projects meant libraries, evenings, and , ugh, probably weekends with Jeon Jungkook.

You were snapped out of your internal despair by the sound of Jungkook’s voice.

“Hand me your phone.”

You froze. “Hm?”

“Well I don’t know what you think of me Y/N, but unless you think I can read your mind we’re  going to need to text to figure out when to meet.”

Giving in, you quickly tossed your phone into his open palm while grabbing his phone which was sitting on top of his backpack.

Glancing over his shoulder, you took a peek at your contact name.

“little miss sunshine? really Jeon?”

“Of course sunshine, i had to pick a name that encapsulated your positive and radiant energy,” he retorted, sarcasm practically dripping off of his words.

You definitely were picking your battles today, and one over a silly contact name didn’t seem to be worth it.

“You can do whatever, Jeon, but you’re sticking in my phone as “Jeon Boy” and there’s nothing you can do about it.”

“We’ll see about that Y/N,” remarked Jungkook as he opened up his lab manual to read the next steps in the procedure.

Your mom had always taught you that the word “hate” was a very strong word and was only to be used in extreme situations. To this day, there were only 3 people in your life that you truly hated in every sense of the word: your ex-boyfriend, Jimin, your ENGL 101 Professor, Dr.Lee, and your neighbor’s cat, Mr. Whiskers, who chewed up your grade 8 science project the day before it was due.

You wouldn’t say that you hate Jungkook, but you were definitely getting close.

“Yknow, I don’t like you Jeon. Actually, scratch that, I really don’t like you.”

Glancing over at the timer on your lab bench finally reaching 0:00, Jungkook began walking over to the fume hood. Turning back to you, he smirked and started to speak.

“Well, the feeling’s mutual sunshine.”

Boy, this was definitely going to be a long semester.

--♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡--

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- Emily

[eatyourchancletas]

SUMMARY |  y/n l/n; the trauma surgeon who was in the wrong place at the wrong time and is taken hostage by the terrifying mafia known as ateez. despite their situations, love arises between the doctor and san; but when an enemy comes in between the group, breaking trust and belief between the members, what will san choose to save; his newfound love or his brothers?

PAIRING | choi san x male reader

INFO/CATEGORY | mafia au, fluff, light angst

WARNINGS | violence, weapon usage/mention, foul language, lower case writing

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AUTHOR’S NOTE | woops, finally have chapter 3 here! alex wasn’t able to finish it so i (monnie) did, but alex edited it so it was a smooth process. please like and reblog!! feedback is greatly appreciated!! please excuse any mistakes!

WORD COUNT | 4.7k

TAG LIST :; @jonghoshoe​  if you’d like to be added to the list please say so in our inbox/ask box!

hongjoong had gathered everyone around, gaze settled upon his members. “this mission is very important. we’ve managed to get a good deal. he says if he manages to make a good first impression with us, he’ll be willing to work with us at a smaller price.”

everyone nodded along, understanding what he was trying to say: don’t mess this up. 

the leader continued as everyone seemed to catch the drift, “but we’re going to be very careful with this. we don’t put ourselves out there, so i don’t know how he knows our reputation enough to want to further business before we’ve even started.”

seonghwa perked up, arms tightening around himself, “that means old business is talking.” hongjoong nodded, letting him know they were both on the same page.

after a moment of silence, hongjoong sucked his teeth and looked up at y/n, eyes holding an emotion the older couldn’t read. the two held eye contact for barely 3 seconds before hongjoong spoke in yeosang’s direction. “i want you to stay here with y/n,” at those words, the younger gave a look that explained his feelings very well, y/n thought.  

yeosang thought this was bullshit, but he couldn’t speak out on it because he trusted hongjoong knew well enough. “don’t take it personal, i don’t trust y/n fully. we don’t know what can happen.”

yeosang could only nod, deciding against disobeying hongjoong’s orders. 

“alright, everyone get ready. we leave in an hour, i wanna get there early. scope out the place.”

y/n felt ashamed and angry. 

ever since the group left for the mission, almost an hour ago, yeosang has been rude and treating him like he was the cause of all his problems. he felt ashamed because yeosang’s bruteness made him feel, somewhat, small and embarrassed, like it was his fault they were in this situation.

“get out of my way,” yeosang had shoved y/n on the way to the kitchen. the older stared dumbfounded, patience wearing thin.

“a simple excuse me would’ve been nice.”

yeosang scoffed, opening the refrigerator. if there was one thing that bothered him, it was being on babysitting duty. 

“yeah, well i’m not exactly in the mood to play around and be all goody-two-shoes. so you know what would be nice?” he directed a sharp glare to y/n, not giving him a chance to answer his rhetorical question, “if you would fuck off.”

y/n bit his tongue, sizing up the smaller. his thoughts blocked his irritation, taking in the fact that yeosang was a gang member. he’s pretty sure size wouldn’t inconvenience the younger when handling a physical situation, much less a verbal one.

the doctor went to walk away as yeosang placed a plate in the microwave, until he noticed red markings on the skin of yeosang’s wrist, his shirt sleeve sliding down as his arm lifted. “are you okay?”

“last i checked, i didn’t ask for some psychological evaluation. so for the love of god-”

“no- i meant your wrist… is your wrist okay?”

a barely noticeable blush covered yeosang’s ears, “i’m fine. it’s nothing.” 

y/n’s head tilted, an unsure look on his face.“do… do you mind if i take a look at it?” 

yeosang stilled, the low hum of the microwave filling in the silence. he hesitated, but decided against it, knowing yunho had told him he needed to get it looked at because there wasn’t much he could do.

his eyes drifted to y/n, his arm slowly gravitating in the direction of y/n, a silent approval. the doctor carefully walked forward, gently grabbing yeosang’s hand and pulling the sleeve slightly. a small gasp left his mouth, the sleeve barely pulled back but the wound already looked pretty bad. “do you have a first aid kit?”

the metal lid of the small trash can clinked as it swung back and forth, ointment-clotted swabs and bandage wrappers crinkling within the confinement. “thank you,” yeosang’s voice was small, his upset mood dissipating as time went on. 

“it’s no problem,” y/n finished wrapping yeosang’s wrist, careful not to make it too tight, “that was a second degree burn though… how’d you get it?”

yeosang looked down, a blush settling on his cheeks. his head dropped and his feet swung under the medical cot he sat on. he mumbled something, biting his lip afterwards, and y/n’s eyebrows furrowed. “i’m sorry, what was that?” and yeosang mumbled once more, y/n still not hearing what he said. “huh?”

“i said i burned myself trying to help seognhwa hyung make your meals!”

y/n blinked, “oh.”

and for the next few moments, it was deadly silent, the ticking of the wall clock echoing. y/n couldn’t take the awkwardness any longer, clearing his throat, “well, next time you get hurt, please don’t be afraid to come to me. it’d give me something to do, i already feel pretty useless and lonely here, to be honest.”

yeosang looked up, his feet no longer swinging, and a confused look on his face. “you’re not useless. we wouldn’t have kept you alive if you were.”

at that moment y/n inhaled, not knowing how to respond to that. “uh, jeez, that uh… hm, that makes me feel better… i guess?” a moment passed before the two chuckled, a comedic break turning out to be a lot more comforting than they expected. 

minutes passed, their conversation dying down into light replies and subtle smiles when yeosang asked a question that threw the doctor off. “do you know anyone by the name of heeseung?”

dozens of thoughts raced through y/n’s mind; why does he want to know? is heeseung okay? did he do something he wasn’t supposed to? 

“. . . yes.” but y/n couldn’t ask any further because before he knew it, yeosang had nodded and gotten down from the cot, walking out of the infirmary area.

meanwhile, miles away the others had arrived at the meeting spot, every member cautiously looking out for anything strange. seonghwa began pulling in closer to the black van adjacent to theirs, letting hongjoong and wooyoung scout to make sure this was the man they were meeting with.

after confirmation that this was dongwoo, they holstered their weapons within the waistbands of their trousers and exited the van. 

“have you got it?” hongjoong cut to the chase; he was quite a brute person when it came to work. and dongwoo and his people wanted to make a good first impression? he’d see how well he could handle him.

“yep, got a truckload of ak-47’s, m16’s, and a couple 9mm’s. all smuggled from america.”

hongjoong pursed his lips, an impressed nod making dongwoo’s ego subtly inflate. word on the street said no one had successfully managed to smuggle weapons, specifically guns, to ateez without the korean law getting too heavily involved. the trader always got caught, and ateez always made sure to utilize their connections and silence those who they couldn’t trust to keep their mouths shut. 

hongjoong had to go to some expensive lengths just to get the glock 17’s they used now. the quality of the gun proved its worth though, they learned. however, it was rare that they resorted to guns—they didn’t rely on them unless they themselves were in danger or if someone needed to be silenced quickly.

“looks good to me,” hongjoong complimented, turning his head slightly toward wooyoung, “bring out their payment.” 

wooyoung nodded briefly, bringing his hands from behind his back, a large herbal drink-branded bag being showcased. dongwoo raised a brow, peeking over and catching a glimpse of the rolls of cash that filled the bag to the brim.

“thank you for your service,” hongjoong beckoned wooyoung to hand the bag to dongwoo, before he went to step toward his shipment.

“wait, what?”

at dongwoo’s abruptness, san stepped forward, “what do you mean ‘what’? take the deal or leav—” his words died down and he cowered back when hongjoong’s sharp glare met his eyes, immediately silencing him. 

the leader clasped his hands behind his back and made a sharp turn toward the man. “is there something wrong?” his head was tilted and a curious look was on his face, there shouldn’t have been anything wrong with this offer and if there was, there was only a problem on dongwoo’s side. call it being ignorant, but hongjoong didn’t say he never had a problem because he wanted to be cocky and egotistic. it was simply the truth. 

out of every issue he and the others had encountered with a deal, none had gone wrong on their part. it was part of the reason their group was at the top—they were efficient business partners and leaders. something only went wrong when non-mutual expectations weren’t met.

“there’s no ‘we’re looking forward to doing future business with you’?”

a small smirk had taken over hongjoong’s lips, hidden by the hanging of his head. “mr. yoo, we further business with those of the same intentions as us. do you, perhaps, know what those intentions are?”

dongwoo stood dumbfounded; of everything he heard about ateez and their leader, he didn’t think to find out just what their goal was.

“it seems you don’t know, so i’ll tell you. we, ateez, have come this far from one thing and one thing only—loyalty. when i heard your proposition of your first impression leading to cheaper traders, something was a little off,” his eyes squinted and he bought his pointer finger and thumb to barely touch, “you know a little too much, don’t you think?”

dongwoo’s eyes widened slightly but he recovered, however, it was noticeable. “what are you talking about?” 

“someone’s been talking, haven’t they? leaking information about us that they, most certainly, weren’t warranted to give, but you probably don’t know much—you’re not the loose tie that needs to be cut off,” he looked dongwoo dead in the eyes as his own narrowed, “i hope.”

his intimidating stare lasted for a few moments more before a light smile covered his face, eye lightening. “take your payment, we’ll be taking our things and leaving.”

hongjoong gave a nod of his head, him and the rest of ateez splitting up to hook the small weapon-filled-trailer to their own vehicle, dongwoo and his men pulling off once it was unattached. 

“boss, i don’t feel so good about this right now. i think we should hurry and get out of here.” yunho spoke, a hand rubbing at the hairs that stood on the back of his neck. hongjoong didn’t question further, sharing the suspenseful feeling that creeped up his spine, giving a prompt nod.

after 5 minutes were spent attaching the trailer and making sure they were ready to go, seonghwa started the engine and waited for everyone to get in. just as san and mingi were about to get in the van, the screeching of tires sounded nearby.

“get down!” and bullets went flying.

“do you like raisin bran?”

y/n gave a slight nod, folding his hands in front of him. “sure!” yeosang held the box in the air, stopping mid-grab.

“aren’t you a doctor? raisin bran has a lot of sugar…”

y/n shrugged his shoulders, standing to get bowls for the both of them, “i’m a doctor, not a dentist. besides, i’m quite the sugar addict. with the injuries i see and multiple hour surgeries i perform, i need some type of a high—so sugar high it is!”

yeosang laughed, shaking his head and setting the cereal box on the counter before grabbing the milk from the fridge. “quick question doc,” yeosang began and y/n looked at him, setting the bowls and spoons down. “milk first or cereal?”

yeosang held a laugh in when y/n had a visibly offended look on his face, a hand pressing to his chest. “yeosang, please tell me you put cereal fi—”

“shit! y/n where the fuck are you?!” someone had frantically shouted from the front of the house, yeosang and y/n giving each other a worried look before tripping over their own feet to reach the living room.

“oh my—what happened?!”

“fuck,” hongjoong let out a belligerent roar, “get him to the infirmary!”

y/n panicked, grabbing onto the injured man and hoisting him up into his arms, rushing to the infirmary. he looked down at the paled man in his arms, huffing out a breath of air, “don’t worry san, i’ve got you!”

san lies on the medical cot, eyes still and closed and chest rising and falling in a calming pattern. y/n is sitting next to him, checking his vitals every few minutes and making sure his labs are okay. after verifying everything is stable, he sat the clipboard down, closing his own eyes and lying his head in his arms on the cot, dozing off. 

it’d been about 3 hours since san was bought in like this. y/n could’ve laughed at how freaked out he was earlier—san’s injuries weren’t even the worst he’s ever seen or treated, but your emotions and professionalism change when the person lying on your operating table is someone you have a nice relationship with… and when said patient’s fellow gang members are breathing down your neck, reminding you that there’s no other option than survival for him...

“how is he?” hongjoong’s voice startled y/n out of his exhausted haze, the older jumping in his spot.

“he’s fine now. if you’d have been any later, he would have coded… and i can’t do much for coding outside a hospital.”

the leader nodded his head, his chest and shoulders dropping slightly as if he could finally breathe. y/n watched him, watched how hongjoong toed around the cot, staring san’s unconscious form down.

y/n fumbled with his fingers, running over his next words in his head before just blurting them. “is it hard?”

“what do you mean?”

he shrugged his shoulders, looking at the shorter, “being a leader… having to watch over everyone,” he held eye contact with the leader, trying to read his expression, “it must be suffocating when something happens to one of them.”

hongjoong’s tongue swiped over his teeth as he stared the taller down. the air around them was tense—hongjoong knew y/n meant good by his words, but he’s not the type of person to just get emotional with people, especially those who aren’t exactly close to him. the others may see y/n as someone more than a hostage, but to hongjoong, he was just that. a person they were taking advantage of—a person who was only cooperative because his life was on the line.

“we’re going to head back to the shooting scene and see if we can find anything that’ll lead us to dongwoo, son-of-a-bitch. wooyoung and yeosang will stay with you and san… so let them know if you or san needs anything.” y/n cleared his throat, giving a curt nod before standing up and walking toward the cabinets, desperate to escape the awkward and tense aura. 

when he heard the door to the infirmary shut, signaling hongjoong had left, he let out a sigh before starting to occupy himself again. he opened a cabinet, grabbing a roll of gauze—it was time to change san’s dressings.

as he made his way back to the cot, he noticed san was now awake and it caused him to stop in his tracks. “when did you wake up?”

“unfortunately, when it got awkward,” san watched y/n’s face fall, a look of embarrassment overtaking his tired features. he held back a teasing smile, leaning back on his arms, although hissing in pain and sitting back up when the pressure sent a stabbing pain through his side and shoulder. he watched y/n walk toward him and lift his clean shirt to start snipping at the dirtied gauze anchored around his naked shoulder.

a few moments went by of y/n re-bandaging and wrapping san’s wounds before the injured boy’s head tilted to the side. he didn’t know if it was because he was high off pain meds or if it was because he’s been so deprived of seeing an unfamiliar face… but y/n looked really handsome and flattering. even thinking about feeling that way sent a drunk feeling to san’s head, his mind getting lost and going blank in the echoing cavity of his skull. it was no secret to himself that he was rather flexible when it came to his romantic relationships and feelings, but he was still foreign to it.

he decided to push it to the back of his mind, feeling rather rushed and irrational at the moment, “y/n hyung… are you feeling better now?”

the older turned to look at him, an eyebrow raised in confusion, “i should be asking that—you’re the one who got shot in the shoulder and stomach,” he pulled san’s shirt back down, careful not to put pressure on his shoulder. he turned around for a moment before turning back and wrapping san’s arm in a sling.

“thank you,” the younger softly spoke, before continuing, “i just noticed you’re more at ease with all of...this. it’s almost a complete 180 from when we first met.”

the doctor’s hands froze against his own lap, a sigh leaving his mouth and his eyes fluttering in a blink of realization, “i guess so.”

“they’re not here—”

hongjoong sighed through his nose, looking rather composed; and the others thought it wasn’t much of a deal until the leader kicked the seat in front of him, scaring seonghwa, who was in the driver’s seat. “call yeosang.”

“been here for a while, what’s up.” said male spoke through their communicator, sounding calm and unbothered.

“can you please stop doing th—can you find anything about dongwoo’s whereabouts?”

“give me a sec,” the boy registered, the clicking of a keyboard sounding into the communication device.

“alright so while yeosang’s doing what should have been done, please tell me why there wasn’t an extensive amount of research on this client?” hongjoong was pissed. not only did their transaction end in a one-sided gunfight, it ended up with one of their own having more than one bullet wound.

wooyoung swallowed, knowing damn well the question was aimed at him. “hyung, i did do research. i made sure to look up what links he has with other businesses and everything that i could think of. i’ve never failed at doing so-”

“then why did you fail this time?”

it got heavily quiet, seonghwa looking at his boyfriend through the rear-view mirror. no one uttered a breath and looked away from a fidgeting wooyoung.

“aight i’m back.”

hongjoong ignored seonghwa’s prompting  gaze, “what did you find?”

“nothing. they’re good at covering their tracks and maybe that’s why wooyoung couldn't find much. usually, we resort to hacking, but i’ve never seen these sorts of codes before and if you want me to break the wall down it will take longer than what you’d want.”

the leader sighed once more, pinching the bridge of his nose while bouncing his right leg. “No it’s fine, we’ll just hope dongwoo and his crew don’t appear again.”

“but hyung, isn’t that a little reckless-”

“you shouldn’t be one to speak right now.” hongjoong turned to glare at wooyoung, the younger male pursing his lips and nodding. “everyone get in the car, we're going back.”

“...so i’m not going to try and hack this? aw.”

“what’s wrong?” san frowned as wooyoung sulked while sitting next to him on the cot.

“hyung’s mad with me…”

y/n had his back facing them, trying to arrange the mess that was on the counter where all the ointments and supplies were. yunho had came in earlier to apologize for not keeping it organized, his exact words being “i just clean up their wounds as best as i can, and i’m not really in here unless it’s an emergency.”

san lingered a glance at y/n as if the older would do the same. “is it because of dongwoo?”

the younger nodded with a pout, leaning on san’s side. “mhm, and he hasn’t talked to me since.”

“well you know joong-hyung, he’s…” san thought for a few seconds, and when he couldn't find the words, he bit the inside of his cheek. “ he’ll get over it, just give it time. or talk to seonghwa-hyung, he’ll know what to do, he always does.”

wooyoung whined, “i already did! and he said ‘i can’t do anything’ with that pained smile of his!”

san blinked, “what? you’re lying, hwa-hyung would never fail us-”

“no no, i was there. he talked to hongjoong-hyung before wooyoung came up to him...or at least tried. joong-hyung isn’t talking to anyone right now. that’s why hwa-hyung told you he can’t do anything.”

“yeo, i swear you’re the nosiest person ever. like, please, i’m not sure if that’s good or bad sometimes.” san grimaced after processing yeosang’s comment through the earpiece.

“as far as i know it’s done us more good than bad. plus, it’s my job to be nosy, remember? we all get paid for things, and i get paid for sticking my nose up yall’s business.”

“wait you do that 24/7?” wooyoung frowned.

“uh, no. sometimes i don’t even intend to do it, ya’ll loud as fuck so sometimes i don’t even need the communicators. and i only comment on things that mean something. and before you ask this did not mean anything, i just wanted to join in the conversation.”

san snorted, “then why didn’t you just walk in here?”

“cus i’m busy right now.”

“doing what?” wooyoung grabbed san’s hand and played with his friend’s fingers.

“doing what i was not authorized to do—hack that wall.”

“won’t you get in trouble?”

“maybe,” the sound of him smacking his lips sounded, “but at least i won’t be given the silent treatment.”

wooyoung sat up. “yah! yeosang i will come down there and kick you!” when he heard no response he jumped off the cot and walked out the room, “yeosang i warned you!”

while hearing his best friend yell down the hall, san laughed. his attention returned to y/n who had his head tilted and a confused look on his face. “what’s wrong, hyung?”

“how...were you two talking to yeosang?” 

san hummed, smiling while tapping the clear earpiece in his ear. “we have them on unless we’re showering and sleeping or something. but when we’re on duty we have them on, speaking of that, i’ll tell jongho to get you one-”

y/n shook his hands in front of him as san was about to move, “you shouldn’t move too much, you might reopen a wound. i’ll call him…” y/n’s voice died down when he realized what he was volunteering to do.

at the sudden look of horror on y/n’s face, san laughed. 

“don’t worry, jongho’s just a buff teddy bear unless in danger. but for now, i’ll call him over.” san raised his hand to his earpiece, making y/n question why he couldn’t do that before. “jongho, can you bring an earpiece for y/n?”

san nodded when the younger agreed, saying he’ll be there shortly. he lowered his hand and rested it on his lap. “have you gotten along with anyone here yet?” he tried to spark conversation with the doctor, highly interested in him and feeling the need to know more about him.

“aside from yeosang, seonghwa and you, uh, not really. maybe yunho? i mean, he’s never showed any sign of hatred towards me so i guess we get along decent too...but i haven’t really had a chance to meet the others.”

the younger nodded, “well we may look tough and all, but i promise we’re all chill. hongjoong-hyung is only tough and straightforward when he’s on the lookout. just give him some time and you’ll see how nice and caring he is.”

y/n hummed, “i guess..”

“i have arrived with the product~” jongho smiled while walking inside the room, a box in hand. “once you put it on it will send yeosang a message and he’ll grant access to it.”

san watched jongho gesture y/n to grab it, but he took it before the doctor did. “here, i’ll put it in for you.”

jongho did his best to not snort or laugh, leaning against the wall instead. he watched san help y/n with setting up the earpiece, amused at how san seemed interested in the doctor.

“ok done, yeosang should grant access soon.” san smiled at y/n, the doctor returning it with his own.

a few minutes of quiet tension passed and jongho felt the need to do something; he pressed the button on the side of his earpiece. “yeosang-hyung, are you not going to-”

“give me a second, i just kicked wooyoung out. if he goes up there with a black eye don’t question it, he’ll say what happened without you asking.”

“you didn’t actually give him a black eye did you-”

“if he did then that can easily be taken care of…” y/n commented while watching jongho roll his eyes.

“yeah i did-”

“no he didn’t.” wooyoung butted in, it sounded like he was munching on something. “it was the other way around-”

san chuckled, shaking his head at his friend's bickering. he realized y/n’s earpiece was successfully connected when he saw the older grin. 

“i bet they both have a black eye.” y/n nodded to himself.

jongho rose a brow, a grin prominent on his features. “and how much are we betting?”

y/n hummed, “thirty bucks.”

“i wanna bet too~,” san grinned, “let’s check it out then. can i move now?”

“hmm...i’d say no but you probably wouldn’t really listen to me so... as long as you don’t make sharp movements.” 

san cheered, extending his free arm to get help in getting off the cot. “let’s go then!”

“hello?” 

“mrs. l/n! how are you? it’s heeseung...lim heeseung.”

the woman on the other end of the phone gasped in what sounded like happiness, “heeseung! It’s been a while since i last heard of you, is something wrong?”

the nurse leaned back into his couch, “well i called to ask if you've seen y/n…”

“i see...well we haven’t heard of him for quite some time now. we thought it was because of work you know? but you two are close aren’t you, i assumed you would know about his whereabouts”

heeseung sighs softly, “well we were close before we broke up...i called because he hasn’t appeared at work for almost two weeks now. everyone knows y/n is a workaholic so it’s rare for him to miss days. and i wanted to ask if i can go to the police and file a report.”

“have you checked his apartment? you do know where he lives right?”

“i do...”

“well if he isn’t there then yes, go to the police station. please let us know if you find anything!”

“of course, thank you.” heeseung smiled painfully to himself, bidding farewell to y/n’s mother before hanging up. soon after he turned off his phone and sighed, he really hopes y/n is at his apartment and only took a vacation.

y/n couldn’t help but bust out laughing when the three of them walked inside the kitchen. wooyoung did indeed have a black eye and so did yeosang. 

"darn it." jongho huffed as y/n ended up winning the bet.

seonghwa stood there confused, spatula in hand as he's setting out their plates for dinner.  "and what's this about?" 

san grinned, "we made a bet to see if yeosang and wooyoung gave each other a black eye or not. and luckily y/n ended up winning." 

"would that be called a doctors intuition?" yeosang rose a brow while glaring at the plates seonghwa handed him. 

"good question." y/n chuckled while walking up to the second oldest. "need help?" 

"oh, yeah, thanks." seonghwa smiled while gesturing to the drinks. "set them on the table, everyone will serve their own drinks."

"got it. oh, and after dinner, i'll need you two to come with me so we can take care of those shiners." 

“yeah yeah...”

[watchmegetobsessed]

Serendipity - Part II. (Harry Styles)

a/n: hello lovelies! thank you so much for the likes and reblogs on the first part, i hope you are enjoying the ride so far! here is part 2 for yall and as always, i would LOVE to read your comments and feedbacks!

pairing: Harry x OC (Annalise Lloyd)

word count: 8k

SERIES MASTERPOST  ⚫️ my masterlist  ⚫️  come and talk to me about Serendipity!  

Serendipity (n.) Finding something good without looking for it.

Annalise finishes up the lasagna with shredding some cheese on the top before sliding it right into the oven, listening to Benji reading up the text from his book, struggling with some longer words, but then manages to put it together in his head at the end. The doorbell rings and she tosses the dirty dishes into the sink.

“Good job, Benji. Read that last part,” she smiles down at the boy, sitting at the kitchen island, his legs dangling, hanging down on the tall stool, arms placed on the counter, his eyes following the lines.

“…However… the rabbit… slept longer…” Benji carries on as Annalise walks to the door, already knowing who’s gonna stand on the other side.

“Hi girl!” Chloé smiles at her upon pulling her into a hug before she walks in.

“Hey, I just put the lasagna in,” she smiles back at her best friend.

“Oh, amazing! Hi Benji! How is my favorite little dude?” Chloé scruffs his light brown locks, the little boy smirking up at her as she sits on the stool next to him.

“Hi Chloé! Wanna see my new dinosaur?” he asks, excitement sparkling in his eyes.

“Well of course! You know I love dinosaurs!” she cheers and Benji is already about to climb off the stool, but she stops him.

“Hey, what about reading? Have you finished?”

The look in his eyes tells her the truth that he hasn’t reached the end yet, he sucks his lips into his mouth, trying his best not to smile slyly. She can’t help but chuckle and shake her head at him.

“Okay, you can go,” she sighs and he is fast to shut the book and jolt upstairs to get his newest toys. Annalise just stares after him with a delighted smile.

“So what’s up? I can tell something happened today,” Chloé starts, leaning on her elbows on the counter, eyes examining her friend.

“How can you tell?” she chuckles furrowing her eyebrows as she puts away the leftover ingredients.

“I can see that little shine in your eyes,” she grins pointing at her. “So spill it!”

Sighing she washes her hands and dries them on the kitchen towel before she leans against the counter, folding her arms on her chest.

“Remember the guy I met on New Year’s Eve?” Chloé’s eyes light up at the mention of the mystery guy Annalise met a while ago, but she didn’t tell much about him, just that they had a great time and he kissed her. She was also mad at her when she found out she didn’t even give him her number, but has gotten herself over it by now.

“The musician? Of course!”

“Alright, so there are two things about him,” she starts, wanting to come clear, but right as she would continue, Benji appears, holding his latest toy, a vicious looking T-Rex in his hands.

“Chloé! Look!” he beams, handing her the figure.

“Oh, wow! This looks so cool! Does it have a name?”

“I call him Reggie!” Benji proudly states, making both women smile, because only he would name a murderous dinosaur Reggie.

“Love it, Bud. I’m almost jealous!” Benji grins up at her, hugging the toy to his chest.

“Hey, Benji, why don’t you go watch the telly a little, so we can talk over here?” Annalise asks and he surely likes the idea.

“Bye!” he sings running off without a question and a few moments later they hear the telly turning on with whatever cartoon he has turned on this time. Chloé turns back to Annalise, eager to hear what she has to tell.

“So hot guy musician, go on,” she gestures as Annalise leans onto the kitchen island across her.

“Hot guy musician’s name is Harry Styles,” she mumbles, lowering her voice, as if someone else was around and could hear her say that. At the same time, Chloé’s eyes basically leave his sockets, widened to the point where Annalise thinks she completely zoned out.

“What the fuck?” she whisper-yells, careful not to let Benji hear her cursing. “Lis! That’s like a major point you left out!”

“I know! I just… I never thought I would ever see him again, so I thought I would keep it to myself.”

“Wait, so you met him?” she gasps, almost falling off the stool, making Annalise laugh.

“I ran into him at Tesco today. Totally randomly in the cereal aisle.”

“Oh my God, I think I’m gonna have a heart attack,” Chloé gasps, placing her hands on her chest, taking some deep breaths. “So what happened? Did he recognize you or what? Wait! You were with Benji?” she gasps again and Annalise nods shortly. “You said you didn’t tell him you had a kid, oh my god!”

“It was so fucking awkward, I wanted to die,” Annalise chuckles awkwardly. “He came up to me all nice and flirty and I was in full panic mode and he was telling me how I didn’t give him my number and then Benji ran up to me calling me mummy.”

“Jesus, I wish I was there to witness it,” Chloe snorts and Annalise gives her a look, though she sees why she finds it funny, she is just not there yet to laugh about it. “What did he do?”

“I sent off Benji to get something and tried to explain it, he was shocked, to say the least. But he was more upset about the fact that I didn’t tell him, rather than that I was a mother. He thought I was married and that’s why I ran off.”

“Can’t blame him, would have definitely crossed my mind too,” Chloé comments with raised eyebrows. “So what else happened?”

“He was desperate to get my number, like literally desperate. When I paid, I could see the panic in his eyes that I’ll flee before he could pay his stuff and come after me. Felt bad for him, so I waited for him.”

“Oh my! You were giving him a chance already!” she cheers and Annalise shakes her head.

“I was not! I wasn’t planning to do anything!”

“Oh but you were. You can deny it all you want, but I can see right through you,” Chloé snorts and Annalise just rolls her eyes at her. “Okay, so what happened then?”

“He convinced me to give him my number. But I told him I’m not looking to date, he said he just wants to be friends. For now.”

“The dude wants to fuck the shit out of you.”

“Chlo!” you snap at her, glancing in the way of the living room, making sure Benji didn’t hear her.

“What? It’s the truth!” she laughs, clearly enjoying the sight of you all blushed and nervous.

“Well, that’s not gonna happen. I’m not getting myself into anything.”

“You mean a nice, satisfying relationship with a clearly amazing guy who is on his knees already for you? Yeah, sounds horrible,” she scoffs, earning another hard look from Annalise.

“No one is talking about relationships. Maybe he does just want to fuck,” she answers with a shrug.

“What’s so wrong about that?”

“Chloé,” she sighs shaking her head.

“I know, I know. You are pretending to be a nun just because you have a kid. I get it.”

Annalise rolls her eyes at her, taking a glance at the oven to make sure the dinner hasn’t burned down yet. It’s clear that the two of them are not on the same page when it comes to Harry. Chloé understands her closed-up behavior when it comes to dating, but she thinks Annalise is taking it a little too far, while Annalise thinks it’s perfectly fine to shut every male out of her life.

Just as they settle in a short silence, Annalise’s phone lights up with a buzz, signaling that she got a text. They both turn in its direction immediately, Annalise’s stomach dropping before her eyes snap at her friend.

“Is that him?” she asks, urging her friend to check the sender. Annalise walks over and grabbing the phone from the counter her lips part seeing the name on the screen.

Harry: Hope you haven’t spiraled and regretted giving me your number just yet.

“What’s he saying?” Chloé asks in excitement.

“Just… asking if I’ve regretted giving him my number.”

“Tell him you want to suck his di—“

“Don’t you dare finish that,” she warns her, typing her response to the text.

Lis: I’m sorry, who is this?

Harry: … very funny!

Lis: Sorry, I had to. And no, I haven’t regretted it, though I’m close to spiraling.

Harry: Oh no, then I have to do something about that quickly!

“You cheeky slut,” Chloé murmurs right from behind her, making her jump, because she didn’t realize she was standing there.

“Fuck, don’t scare me like that!” she scolds her before returning to the text thread. “And I’m not a cheeky slut.”

“Yeah, you are. Totally flirting with him.”

“We have very different definitions of flirting then.”

Harry: When do you have lunch break tomorrow?

Lis: Usually around 12.30

Harry: text me the address, I’ll be there

“Shit, he wants to have lunch with me tomorrow,” she sucks on her breath looking up at Chloé, who read the whole thing shamelessly over her shoulder.

“So what?”

“Should I say yes?” Annalise looks at her in panic, feeling like a lost, nervous teenage girl.

“Oh my God! If you don’t say yes I’m gonna literally murder you, Lis!” she groans, her head falling back in annoyance.

“Alright, alright! No need to be so harsh!” She quickly turns her attention back to the screen and just sends the address without a comment. No reply comes, he just likes the message.

“I hope he fucks you in a restaurant toilet,” Chloé bluntly comments, making Annalise’s jaw drop.

“You are so vulgar, I shouldn’t even let you into this household with that dirty mouth of yours!”

“Oh come on, I know it took you years to stop cursing around Benji, I’m pretty sure one of his first words were fuck.”

“That is not true! I hate you, why are we even friends?” Annalise grimaces, grabbing her oven mittens to check on the lasagna.

“Because I’m fun, I’m honest and I babysit for you sometimes,” Chloé lists with a proud smile on her face as Annalise pulls the dish out of the oven, the warm smell of the fresh lasagna immediately filling the kitchen.

“Right, remind me of that more often, please.”

They set the table together and Lis calls for Benji, who abandons the couch without a word. Annalise has always been grateful for having such an unproblematic boy. Becoming a mother at such a young age, she had many doubts and fears about how things would turn out and the worst was that she would somehow ruin him, watch him turn into a deviant, low-life criminal. Though Benji is only six and a lot can happen in his life that lies ahead of him, Annalise has been feeling a sense of relief whenever she looked at him. The way he handles his everydays, doing what he is told to do right away without a second guess or throwing a fuss, it makes her think that maybe, probably… hopefully she did a good job raising him. As a single parent, having been one for years now, this is all she wishes above all the happiness in the world for her son. 

The three of them sit at the small dining table, eating dinner while Benji rambles about how excited he is about the field trip that’s coming up soon, his teacher is taking the whole class to the zoo and Benji is over the moon to see his favorite animals up close.

“Which one do you want to see the most?” Chloé questions, pointing her fork at the boy.

“Giraffes and the monkeys!” Benji cheers, bringing a smile to his mother’s face, seeing him so enthusiastic about it. She knows that Benji doesn’t just want to see the animals, but can’t wait to learn about them. He is a curious little guy, Annalise knows that already.

Chloé helps to clean up the kitchen and they hang around the living room a little longer before it’s nearing Benji’s bedtime. Annalise walks her friend out, hugging her goodbye at the front door, but before Chloé could leave, she turns back around and gives a hard look to Lis.

“I’m serious about this whole Harry situation. Please don’t close up entirely, alright? You deserve to have some fun, get to know him better. You could never know what’ll turn it out to be.”

“That’s what scares me,” she mumbles quietly, eyes fixated on her feet. “Not knowing how it’ll end.”

“Take the chance. Live a little. You haven’t since… graduation?”

Annalise keeps quiet, biting the inside of her cheeks. She hasn’t let herself completely relax since she found out she was pregnant. Being barely out of high school, having to deal with the fact that she would be a somewhat teenmom was shocking enough for her to regulate her whole life to the point where she couldn’t even remember the last time she actually enjoyed herself without a worry. That night in the pub, Harry managed to make her feel that sense of freedom. Like she could finally let go of everything that keeps her tied down into this strictness in her everydays. For one night, she had no worries, no fears, she just allowed herself to be… herself. Her old self for once.

“You deserve it, Lis. Don’t convince yourself that you don’t.”

She just nods without a word and lets Chloé embrace her in another hug before she walks down the stairs of the small townhouse and makes her way home with one last wave in her direction at the door.

Annalise’s proudest achievement is that even with a child and being a single mom, she managed to get a college degree and score a job she actually likes. No, she adores what she does. As a caretaker at a retirement home. She works from nine in the morning until four in the afternoon. Her boss let her have those one hours bunch up and get pushed back to Saturdays so she could drop Benji off at school easier on weekdays. Having to work on Saturdays weren’t a big deal, because Benji usually came with her, have the best time with the elders in the home while Annalise worked, they even helped him with homework. They would have lunch somewhere after work and have the rest of the day to themselves. 

Going to work the next day Annalise can’t push her excitement down, thinking about seeing Harry later that day. Arriving to the home she is immediately met with Eloise and Bart, one of her favorite pairs in the home. The old woman’s eyes light up the moment Annalise walks through the door and she greets her brightly.

“My Darling! Good morning!” she beams as Annalise approaches them. “How are you?”

“I’m splendid, how about you, Elly?”

“Fantastic. Bart promised me to take a walk in the park today, right Bart?”

The quiet man nods with a shy smile. They are quite the pair, Annalise always thought. Elly being a chatty, lively, social butterfly, while Bart was more the kind to stand behind and let his lady shine and Annalise always found that endearing. 

“How is Benji?” Bart questions shortly.

“He’s good, getting better with reading day by day,” she smiles.

“I can sense something on you, Darling,” Elly comments, narrowing her makeup-covered eyes at Annalise. “There’s a little sparkle in your eyes, want to share what that’s about?”

Annalise chuckles shaking her head. Nothing and no one can fool Elly, she reads people like she does with the morning paper, easily seeing through them without a fuss.

“Don’t know what you’re talking about,” she smiles, though they both know it’s a lie, but Elly lets it slip.

Annalise says goodbye to them and heads to the dressing room to get ready for the day. Though all her thoughts were about Harry in the morning, once she gets down to work she easily shifts her focus back on her tasks. The hours slip by faster than she expected, always having to do something, and before she notices, there’s only ten more minutes till the time she told Harry she’d be getting her lunch break.

She finishes up changing the sheets in one of the rooms, drops off the dirty ones at the washing room before heading back to the break room to collect herself a little before Harry arrives. She thinks it’s silly, but she feels like an excited little girl with a crush, finally seeing her favorite boy on the playground. She never bothered to lie to herself about how attracted she is to Harry, because it’s quite obvious. She’s just still not sure what she really expects from the situation on her hands.

She pulls her hair tie out of her ponytail, letting her hair fall to her shoulders in loose waves. Tapping under her eyes she gets rid of a mascara smudge, fixing up her makeup quickly before she takes one last look at herself in the mirror. She is definitely not trying to look like she wants to impress the man, but she doesn’t want to look like a mess either.

Her phone vibrates in the pocket of her light pink scrubs and fishing the device out her heart leaps upon seeing the sender of the text message.

Harry: I’m right outside.

Lis: Coming!

She pulls on her knitted sweater she wore in the morning and throws on her coat before grabbing her wallet and heading out. 

“I’m eating out today, I’ll be back soon,” she calls out at the station downstairs where some of her colleagues are seated. They all smile back at her, carrying on with their work as she walks out the double doors of the home. 

Her eyes immediately find the tall frame leaning against the little gate that separates the foregarden of the home from the street. Harry is dressed in a pair of black pants and a navy blue sweater under his black coat, a pair of sunglasses covering his intent green eyes. 

“Hi,” he greets her, his smile bringing his dimples out as he watches her walk out the small gate and stand in front of him.

“Hey. Found the place easily?” she asks with a soft smile.

“Yeah, it was all good. Ready to leave?”

“Yes, but I need to be back in an hour.”

“That’s perfectly fine,” Harry smiles and walks her over to the black Range Rover parked at the sidewalk, opening up the passenger side for her. She mumbles a quiet thank you sitting inside and once Harry is behind the wheel too, she turns to him feeling her nerves creeping up on her neck like it’s the first time they are seeing each other.

“Where are we heading?” she asks, but Harry just smiles in her way starting the car and leaving from the home.

“You’ll see.”

Harry effortlessly strikes up a conversation, asking Annalise about how long she’s been working at the home and why she chose it. She finds herself easily sharing all the information.

“I’ve been working at Golden Sunshine for about three years now. I absolutely love it, my boss is very flexible and understanding, which is kind of essential in my… situation.” 

“And why did you choose to be a caretaker?”

“I don’t know, I was always told that I’m great with taking care of others and I think I’m patient, which is great when you work with elders, especially when they have different health problems, having a hard time remembering simple things. You can’t imagine how many times I need to introduce myself to residents that’s been living there for years,” she chuckles softly. “But it’s alright. I like helping them, making these last chapters of their life as peaceful and comfortable as possible.”

Harry glances in her way with a genuine smile and he needs to push down the sudden urge to envelope her in his arms. He is fascinated by how big of a heart Annalise has and that she’s not afraid to share it.

“I bet they all love you,” he smirks, glancing at her shortly.

“I guess,” she shyly shrugs. “Though I think they love Benji more.”

Her smile fades for a moment. She can’t help but feel nervous to bring Benji up in front of Harry. She still doesn’t know for sure how he really feels about him and she is not trying to be the kind of mother who can’t talk about anything else than her kid.

Harry senses the change in her and is quick to clear the water.

“Lis, don’t feel bad about talking about Benji.”

“I just don’t know if…”

“If I want to hear about him?” he helps her out and she nods shortly. “I do. I think I made it pretty clear that I’m interested in you and that involves everything. Benji as well. I know he is a big part of your life so I wanna hear all about him. You don’t have to hold yourself back around me, alright?”

“I guess I’m just not used to… a man being interested in him.”

“I assume you had some bad dating experiences.”

“You could say that,” she chuckles bitterly.

“How did they react when they found out about him?”

Annalise doesn’t even realise that they have parked down and Harry has stopped the car. They sit there and Harry listens to her intently, genuinely interested in anything she shares.

 “Guys my age are not really ready to deal with a child. Most of them swore it wasn’t an issue, but at the end… it always was. So then I stopped talking about it, but I quickly realized that it’s not something I can just not tell.”

“Obviously,” Harry nods.

“So now I just don’t know what to do and what not to do.”

“Well, I know you’ve heard it plenty of times, but I really mean it that it’s not an issue to me in any way. From what I saw, he looks like a great little guy and though I was a little shocked last time when I met him, I’m not against seeing him again, if that’s how things turn out to be. I like kids, I really do, so don’t feel bad about talking about him. I want you to. I’m asking you to.”

Annalise is not sure how to react. She still has a lot on her heart and mind, but she genuinely believes Harry, something is just telling her that she can. Not sure what it is about him, but she is trying not to overthink it.

Moving her gaze away from him she looks out the window and sees that they are parked near a little park.

“Where are we?”

“One of my favorite places,” Harry smiles getting out of the car and Lis follows him to the trunk. 

He opens it up and there’s an old fashioned basket, one she always sees in movies when they are having a picnic. Harry grabs the basket and shuts the trunk once he has everything he needs and then the two of them start walking further into the greenery.

“I come here sometimes, just because not many people know it exists so it’s quite peaceful most of the time. Easy to stay unnoticed, ya know?”

Lis nods as they follow the graveled path that leads through the small park, squished between townhouses. It really isn’t big, she can see the other end from where they are, but there’s a lot to do and see. A nice playground takes up most of the space, but there are several benches, a little fountain a little further down the way, chess tables and even a small group of abstract monuments that’s also used as a playground by some kids. Annalise finds the place endearing and it’s like a hint of magic in the middle of the city. 

They aim for a bench, Harry sets down the picnic basket between them and opens up the lid, revealing that it’s filled with goodies.

“I wasn’t sure what you like or don’t like, so I packed a whole bunch of stuff,” he truthfully admits, making Annalise smile as she watches him roam through the basket, pulling some stuff out.

He really did think of everything. There are loads of fruits, sandwiches, all kinds with and without meat, cut vegetables, sauces, snacks, both sweet and salty. Even the worst picky eater would find something to eat in the load Harry packed for their lunch.

“You could have asked what I liked so you didn’t have to do all this,” she shyly tells him, but he just smiles at him with his head tilted.

“Wanted it to be a surprise.”

“Well, I’m surprised, so you succeeded,” she admits with a soft chuckle as Harry’s fist pumps into the air in victory, making her laugh.

Annalise chooses to eat a ham and cheese sandwich while Harry chooses one with salami in it and they have the little container filled with veggies sitting on the basket so they both can reach it.

Suddenly, she can feel the guilt crawling up her back and neck, reaching all her thoughts about how bad it was that she didn’t tell him about Benji. Even with her intentions of never seeing him again, she should have told him or at least mentioned it when she saw his interest in her. It’s been a struggle of hers for so long, wanting to protect herself and Benji, but also knowing that it’s not information you should keep to yourself for too long.

“I uhh-- I want to apologize,” she speaks up, breaking the comfortable silence between them.

“For what exactly?”

“For, um… That I didn’t tell you about Benji. I know I should have, but I--”

“You didn’t plan on seeing me ever again. I get it.” Glancing over at him, she sees that there’s no sign of anger or disappointment in his eyes, just a calm smile stretched across his face. “I’m fine to move on from this part. I understand your reasoning and I’m not mad at all. Would have been nice to know, but it’s all fine.”

“Are you really okay with it or are you just saying it because you know it’s what I want to hear?”

“I really mean it,” he tells her, looking at her with eyes that are completely open and she can read them like a book. She feels the relief coming over her.

“Okay. I just still want you to know that I’m sorry. It’s not like I’m ashamed of him or being a mother.”

“Doesn’t look like that.” Harry chews on his sandwich before speaking up again. “Can I ask… what’s the situation--I mean--”

“About the father?” she guesses and Harry nods. “Um… We started dating in tenth grade, he was my first… everything. First kiss, first boyfriend, first… love.”

Harry ignores the bitter taste in his mouth as she talks about loving this mystery man, but he chooses to stay silent as he waits for her to continue.

“I was planning my future with him, though looking back after the first year I was just desperately trying to hold onto the idea of being in a relationship, having a partner, it wasn’t healthy for sure.” She lets her hands fall to her lap, holding the remaining of her sandwich as she carries on. “So then, not long after graduation came the shocking news that I was pregnant. We barely turned eighteen, it was a proper shock for the both of us, I was terrified. We kept it to ourselves for a few days, trying to figure out what to do, but then I told my parents.”

She falls quiet for a moment and Harry doesn’t say a word, just lets her take her time, continue whenever she feels like. 

It’s been long since she told anyone about how she ended up being where she is, given the fact that her small circle consists of Chloé and her parents. She’s known Chloé since elementary school, she was there through the whole process, didn’t have to tell her the story. Outside that, she doesn’t go around and talks about getting pregnant at eighteen so she definitely needs to pull her thoughts together now.

“They were mad. Like, so fucking mad, I thought they are going to disown me,” she huffs with a bitter chuckle.

“Did they?” Harry finds himself asking.

“No. I could feel their disappointment for a while, but they said that they want to help me and be present. It never occurred to them to ever throw me out. I just had to deal with seeing it in their eyes for months.”

She scratches her neck, taking a deep breath and trying to find her words to get back to the story. To her story.

“So I figured out that I want to keep the baby and I told Austin about it.”

“Austin?”

“Oh, yeah. His name is Austin.”

Harry notices how she used present time, so he knows that the reason why he is not present is not because something happened and he died. Austin is very much alive, just chooses to be a douche and not care for his son.

“He tried to convince me to get an abortion, but I didn’t want to, so he had to accept my decision. Though he didn’t shy away from voicing his disapproval. Anyway, we tried to stay together, but it was just a whole lot. I didn’t know if I would ever be able to uni, I wanted to support myself financially and not live on my parents’ money, I just couldn’t deal with his behavior which was absolute trash.”

“Did he ever…?” Harry trails, hoping he doesn’t have to finish the sentence and she will know what he means. Luckily, she does.

“No. Austin never hit me, I think he is too chicken to do that, but he surely liked to give me all the pain through his words. Treated me like shit and I think he was trying to bully me into breaking up with him, so it wouldn’t be him who left his pregnant girlfriend.”

“Fucking asshole,” Harry mumbles, not able to hold himself back. He can feel the rage crawling up his neck, numbing his fingers, aching to bring justice. 

“Yeah,” she nods. “Well, he succeeded and I threw him out when I was in the eighth month. He tried to stay present for a while. He was there when Benji was born, though not in the room, but he was there. And he genuinely tried to get into the role of being a father, but I guess he just… couldn’t. He started coming over less and less until he barely even asked about Benji once a week, only seeing him a few times a month. And I still don’t know if I should have tried to reach out and help him connect with Benji and just the idea of being a dad, but… I didn’t. I just watched him break all contact with us and disappear into thin air. By the time Benji turned two, I couldn’t even tell if Austin still lived in our town or not. Haven’t heard from him in about three years,” she finishes and Harry is left at a loss of words. He can only imagine what it was like to go through all of this at such a young age.

“Though it seems like everything turned shit, I still think that I managed to bring the best out of it. A year later than my peers but I started uni, my school offered a chance for people like me to have a special timetable, manage my courses more losely than others, so I had only two days when I had to go in and I could bring Benji with me if I wanted. My teachers were super helpful so I got my degree and moved up to London when I got the job at Golden Sunshine.”

“Weren’t you afraid of moving out from your parents? I assume they helped you a lot in the beginning.”

“Oh, I was,” she chuckles softly, bringing a smile to his lips too. “I couldn’t have done it without them, and I’m very thankful for them. The moment they saw Benji I could feel them shift, I didn’t see the disappointment anymore, just the endless love and caring for him. They are in love with being a grandparent and maybe I could have stayed longer with them, but I wanted to find my own place, start my own life and not depend on them forever.”

“That’s very respectable,” Harry nods in awe. Not many would have thought that same way as she did in her situation. 

“I’m not saying it was easy at the beginning, because I had very little support system here in London. Luckily, my best friend, Chloé was already living here and she was always happy to help me with anything. She still is. But if I’m being honest I thought about moving back home a few times. Though I’m glad I didn’t. I think I needed to face this and I’m happy I didn’t try to push it too much, I forced myself to make the change before I could get too comfortable at home. Now I feel home here as well and I think Benji does too. I like to think that I’m doing a good job raising him, but I can only hope,” she chuckles lightly before bringing her sandwich back up to his mouth and she starts eating again. 

Silence comes over them, but it’s much needed and appreciated. It lets Annalise have a breather after everything she just shared, think about her words, while Harry is trying his best to process all the information he just learned. 

He thought he got to know her pretty well that evening when they met, having to talk to her for hours on end, but this just put her in a whole different lighting and though he wasn’t mad at her for not telling him about Benji before, he couldn’t have been now after hearing everything. Annalise went through more in just a few years than most people experience over a decade probably. And on top of everything, she nailed it all like not many could have. Harry envies her bravery and strength, her ability to start over after being thrown to the ground several times. He could have never done the same.

Harry feels the need to voice his appreciation.

“I know that you will probably doubt the validity of my words, but I just want to say that I think you are an amazing person. Everything you did, for yourself and Benji, it’s a miracle and it’s all thanks to you. If I can say that… I’m proud of you.”

Annalise is at a loss of words. She can’t remember the last time someone told her they were proud of her and she definitely did not expect to hear it from Harry, but here they were, sitting on a bench in a park, eating lunch together, seeing each other for only the third time ever. Though she was stubborn not to let her walls down too fast and easily, she can now feel them trembling. A lot. 

“Thank you,” she breathes out, feeling too shy to look him in the eyes, so she keeps her gaze fixated on her hands. 

Following the quite serious topic they just discussed, Harry manages to ease the mood a little, starting a conversation about things that are much lighter. He is pleased to see that they are able to pick up where they left on New Year’s Eve, talking and joking about basically anything without taboos. This is what has drawn him so forcefully to her right in the beginning. She is unapologetically herself regardless of who she is talking to or what she is talking about and it encourages him to be the same. He can so easily leave his ties back he usually feels on him most of the time in life. But not with Annalise. She can easily make Harry forget about the existence of any other human being on the planet and he is desperately trying to keep this feeling close to his heart. 

However that short hour is nearing its end quite soon and they are forced to head back to her workplace so she can make it back in time. Harry saw today solemnly as a chance to be her friend and strengthen her trust in him, but when they are sitting in his car heading back to the retirement home he finds himself having a hard time thinking about her in a friendly way. He wishes he could just easily switch it in his brain, but Annalise messed it all up so easily and gracefully that he can’t even be mad. However, he feels too weak to stand the tempting urge and not give in. 

As they are nearing Golden Sunshine Harry is chewing on the inside of his cheeks, gripping the wheel a little tighter than usually, trying to figure out what to do once they arrive. While right next to him, Annalise is having a somewhat similar fight with herself, because she genuinely enjoyed her time with Harry and though her strict side is telling her to keep her distance, her heart is screaming at her to let him get closer.

The car comes to a halt and they both just sit there for a few moments, lost in their own head, waiting for something to happen. Right when Annalise is about to say something and end this little meet-up on a neutral note, Harry speaks up breaking the silence.

“Annalise, I want to be very honest with you,” he starts seriously and she is a little taken aback by the tone, but nods.

“Okay.” Harry stares out the windshield, hands still on the wheel, as if he is trying to ground himself, have a grip of something solid in his fists to mask the nerves taking over him.

“I know that I said that I’m fine with being friends and I still think that, don’t get me wrong. Above anything and everything, I would love to be your friend. But I would be lying if I said I didn’t want more, because I do. I definitely do and I’m not gonna lie to myself or you. So this is kind of my warning that… I will shoot my shots as often as possible and I’ll see this—“ he gestures between him and her nervously, “as something that I want to work on and head in a…” It’s hard for him to find the right words, as if Annalise just made his mind blank when words are usually his best friends. But not now, because all he can think about is the woman sitting next to him.

Sighing he lets his hands drop to his lap, turning to face her finally, finding her bright eyes already staring back at him intently.

“I want this to head in a romantic way, Lis. I really do, because I just can’t stop this attraction I feel and if I’m being honest, I don’t even want to stop it. I remember and understand everything you said about wanting to protect Benji and how dating has been for you, but I want you to know that it doesn’t stop me from trying over and over again.”

Staring into her eyes he is desperate to read something out of them, but for once, she looks completely blank, just blinking at him, seemingly deep in her thoughts. He almost entirely regrets opening his mouth in the first place, but then she notices the tiniest smile playing on her lips.

“Okay,” she quietly says, clearly surprising Harry with her short, but unexpected reaction to his words.

“Okay?” he repeats the word, eyebrows raised at the woman beside him. Annalise nods.

“Yeah. Okay.”

Harry repeats it again in his mind, trying to find a different meaning behind it, but there’s none. It’s an okay which is neither bad nor the best kind of reaction, but way better than what he was expecting.

“Okay,” he nods, saying the word again, noticing how ridiculous this conversation just sounded, but he couldn’t care less. That okay means more than anything to him.

“Thank you for lunch,” Annalise smiles before opening the door.

“It was a pleasure,” Harry returns the smile and waves in her way, watching her shut the door and he stays right there as she walks up to the entrance. She glances back one last time, her smile widening for a split second before she disappears inside the building.

“Harry?”

Mitch’s voice snaps him out of his thoughts for probably the fifth time today as he has been far from the studio, clearly putting his mind somewhere else than into the songs they are recording.

“What? Sorry. Zoned out a little,” he mumbles rubbing his eyes, hoping to return to the present.

It’s been just two days since he has last seen Annalise and though they’ve been staying in touch through texts ever since, he is keen on seeing her as soon as possible.

“Care to share what’s got your thoughts occupied?” Sarah chimes in from the corner of the room. Her comment is not harsh or rude, more like curious and kind of delighted. Studio sessions between Harry and the band have always been seen as more of a creative environment where they get to do anything that helps the workflow, rather than a compulsion or pressure to create. They all know it’s not how good music is born, so it has never been taken badly when someone was not at the top of their game.

“If I had a guess I would say it starts with L and ends with Is,” Adam smirks from his chair, mindlessly pushing himself to left and right, his eyes watching Harry.

“I’m just trying to figure out what to do next.”

“Have something on your mind?” Sarah questions, leaning forward to rest is elbows on her knees.

“I do, but I just don’t know where the boundaries lie with Benji. If she would let me… meet him, I guess,” he sighs, running a hand through his hair, leaving his locks fall messily back, before they slowly return to frame his forehead.

“Why don’t you just ask her?” Mitch easily questions.

“I just feel like… I’m walking on eggshells. What if she takes it the wrong way?”

“What do you mean?” Adam asks.

“She said her encounters with men didn’t end well when it came to Benji. I’m afraid she would think I’m just trying to get closer to her through Benji, which is totally not the case. I want to get to know him because I know how important he is to her, so I obviously want to be close to him as well.”

“Harry,” Sarah smiles at him warmly. “Just tell her exactly this. From what you told us, she sounds like a smart woman. Worst case, she’ll say no to you meeting the kid. Just don’t take it to your heart too much.”

Harry nods knowing she is right. Fishing his phone out of his pocket he sends a quick text to Annalise.

Harry: Let me know when you have the time to talk so I can call you.

He doesn’t think she would get back to him too soon, but just when he is about to return his attention to the task on his hands, the screen lights up.

Lis: I’m free now.

“Sorry guys, I need to make a quick call. Be right back,” he excuses himself leaving the room, walking out to the empty hallway as his thumb glides across the screen, opening up Annalise’s contact. He draws a deep breath, keeps it in and then exhales sharply before he finally taps on the right button and starts the call. She picks up just after two rings.

“Hey!” Her joyful voice rings through the phone, instantly making Harry smile.

“Hi, I hope I’m not bothering you,” he breathes out.

“I literally told you it’s fine to call,” she chuckles. “How are you?” she asks and he just knows it’s not one of those empty questions. She is genuinely interested in the answer.

“I’m good, just working at the studio, but I wanted to ask you something.”

“Alright, shoot it.”

“I hope I’m not crossing any lines and please tell me if I do, but I would really love to have you and Benji over at my place for lunch or dinner sometime and I thought we could play board games. I have a bunch for times when my friends are over and I’m sure we could find something Benji would like.”

All his blood rushes to his head as his anxiety is reaching its maximum level. He has never felt this nervous about just a simple question, an invitation, but everything about Lis makes him go into a spiral, afraid he might lose what he has with her for now.

The silence on the other end of the call is wrecking him and he even goes to check if the call is still on, because he can’t hear a thing. Right when he is about to ask if she’s still there, she finally breaks the silence.

“When?” she asks shortly and that one little word means the world to Harry. For a split second he thinks he’s going to faint as all the blood rushes out of his face at the answer.

“Whenever it’s good for you. I can push around my plans in the next two weeks so I’m open to anything,” he answers eagerly.

“I’d rather not do it on a weekday, I don’t want Benji to go to bed late. I’m working on Saturdays and the afternoon is always our time, so that leaves us with Sunday,” she explains so precisely, Harry feels like he is listening to someone talk about the solution of a mathematical problem.

“Alright,” he nods following her trail of thoughts.

“He has a football game next weekend so this week would be the best for us.”

This week. This Sunday is only two days away, meaning that it would happen sooner than he expected, but there’s no way he would turn her down. Sunday it is.

“Works for me.”

“Are you sure?”

“Absolutely. Lunch or dinner?”

“Maybe lunch? I take bedtime really seriously,” she explains and he makes a mental note, storing it along with everything else he knows so far about her and Benji.

“Perfect. Lunch is great.”

“Are you sure it’s not too soon for you? You can tell me—“

“Lis, it’s fine. Don’t worry about it, alright? I’ll text you the address and exact time after I pushed back my meeting.”

“If you have work to do, then we could—“

“None of that,” he cuts her off again, not letting her push it around until it won’t happen. That will not be the case if it’s up to him. “I said it’s all good and I meant it. Don’t worry about it.”

After a short pause, she finally gives in. “Okay,” she sighs. “Thank you for the invitation. And for thinking about Benji too.”

“Of course. I hope you’re not taking it in a negative way though. I really want to get to know him as well.”

“You haven’t given me a reason to think of you differently,” she states confidently before adding: “Don’t make me regret it.”

-

NEXT PART 

-

TAGLIST

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[sulphuryasecretcloset]

What if...? Part 9

Brace yourself, bring tissues and I will try to have the last bit/epilogue up real soon! Don’t look at me, I know I said this was the last part, but honestly, when it hit 12 pages I had to stop it there! And you lovely LOVELY enablers with your amazing comments and incredibly kind reblogs? Thank you for brightening my day! <3

-

What if Dulsissia hadn’t died, what if she had grabbed Corin and fled? What if she met Davarax? What if…

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8

Part 9

“We have to warn them.” Dulsissia whispers, her fingers toying with the fabric covering Davarax’ collarbone. “They have to move.”

“What are you talking about?” Davarax mumbles.

“The Covert.” Dulsissia replies, feeling an anxious knot in her stomach. “Macero knows Vecon found me on Nevarro. It’s not safe there any more. He will want revenge for his brother, Corin back in his claws and… me.”

“That’s not going to happen.” Davarax replies with lazy confidence.

“Do not underestimate his anger and the force he will use.” Dulsissia sits up to properly face him.

Davarax looks at her for a second then nods. “I hear you. I do. But do not underestimate the Covert. We are Mandalorians. We have survived worse things than Macero Valentis.”

Dulsissia isn’t too sure about that. She has seen an emptiness in Macero’s eyes that only belongs in black holes, the kind that simply exists to crush everything it touches, something that should not live in any human being’s eyes. But then her gaze drops to the blood glistering on Davarax’ clothing and she decides to deal with what she has right in front of her first.

“Come on. Off with it.” Dulsissia gets up and starts to detach Davarax’ breastplate. “Let me see.”

“It’s fine.” Davarax sighs, but helps her remove it and then his clothing, baring his torso, riddled with cuts and bruises and covered with sticky blood. “I’m fine.”

“This is not fine.” Dulsissia hisses, doing a quick examination of the wounds, especially where Vecon had stabbed him.

“Just a cut.” Davarax reassures her, trying to sound unfazed despite exhaustion creeping into his voice.

“Luckily he didn’t get the angle right.” Dulsissia mumbles. “Held the blade all wrong.”

She’s distracted by Davarax taking a gentle hold of her chin, making her look up at his t-visor and Davarax runs his thumb over her lower lip. “That’s my girl.” He sounds proud.

Flushing, Dulsissia pulls away and straightens up. “Do you have any bacta on the ship?”

He should, right? Mandalorians tend to get into fights all the time, so it would only be sensible.

Davarax points up and she sees the small compartment in the ceiling, which turns out to have a kit with bandages, a little bacta and a cauterizer thing that she quickly shoves back into the compartment.

She ends up sitting on his knee as the silly man refuses to leave the pilot seat in case some TIE fighters should appear out of nowhere and she begins to gingerly wash away the sticky blood and apply bandages to the injuries, trying not to think about how the last time she’d touched his skin it had been under so much happier circumstances. She hates knowing he will now carry even more scars because of her. And in the dark corners of her mind, she is glad Vecon is dead.

“How is Corin?” Dulsissia asks, dreading the answer. Her poor boy.

“Scared out of his mind that he’ll never see his mother again.” Davarax sighs, running his hand along her arm in an absent-minded caress. “When we get closer to Nevarro, I’ll try to reach him.”

“And the rest of the kids?”

That actually brings forth the Davaraxian laughter huff. “I had to physically wrestle Paz off the ship when he heard I was going. If he had a blaster, he would have shot me.” His hand rounds her shoulder and moves up her neck to cup the side of her face. “They’ve all been desperate to get you back. Like me.”

“I’m sorry.” Dulsissia mumbles, gently patting down the edges of a bacta patch on his stab wound. “I didn’t see him before it was too late. And then I just wanted them away from all of you.”

“Hey.” Davarax takes a gentle but firm grip on her wrist, halting her movement, making her look at his visor. “This was not your fault. This was all them. You have nothing to apologize for.”

Dulsissia looks at the residual blood still drying on his skin. “Maybe not. But the fact remains that without me stumbling into your life, you wouldn’t be bleeding right now.”

“Without me barging into yours, I wouldn’t be sitting here, that’s true.” Davarax replies, gently caressing her wrist. “I wouldn’t be with you. My days wouldn’t bring happy memories instead of feeling guilty all the time. I wouldn’t come home to my kids smiling instead of crying, hiding away while being terrified for their lives or without a voice because they have been screaming themselves hoarse.” His hand moves up to brush the back of his fingers across her bruised cheekbone with heart breaking tenderness. “That’s worth more than bleeding for, cyare. That’s worth dying for.”

Closing her eyes, Dulsissia takes a hold of his hand and moves it down to press her lips to it. “Other than the love I felt for my son, I didn’t know what love was until I met you.” She shivers. “Don’t talk about dying because it feels like tempting fate and I can’t imagine my life without you in it.”

“Then, maybe, if you feel like that, would you…” Davarax says, tensing up a little.

Waiting for him to finish the sentence and frowning a little when he doesn’t, Dulsissia kisses his hand again. “Would I what?” The man just took on an entire imperial ship by himself without hesitation, but a simple request frightens him? How is that possible?

Davarax exhales, as if letting go of something, and tilts his head while making a thoughtful sound. “Would you let me compliment you on the dress? It’s lovely. And really brings out the colour of your eyes.”

Laughing, Dulsissia shakes her head and goes back to focus on cleaning and bandaging him up. “Thank you. I kind of like it myself. Impractical, but pretty. I was thinking about keeping it.”

“I think you should.” Davarax drawls, toying with the thin shoulder strap. “Definitely.”

-

“Mom?” Corin’s voice across the com link is desperate and hopeful at the same time.

It hurts endlessly more than any physical pain.

“I’m here, Corin.” Dulsissia replies, eyes welling up with tears and yet makes sure to keep her voice calm. “I’m right here, baby. I’m okay. Are you okay? Me and Davarax are coming home now.”

The reply is a mess of voices as all the children try to say something at the same time, making Dulsissia reach out and touch the speaker as if she could reach them. They all sound so worried.

“SHUT UP!” Paz’ voice roars and Dulsissia expects the other children jump like she does because there is silence before Paz’ voice is heard again, calm this time; “Dulcy, when will you be landing?”

Dulsissia looks over at Davarax, who is standing next to her while she sits in the pilot seat, and he leans down to tap something into one of the machines before holding up five fingers to her.

“Five standard hours.” Dulsissia replies, reaching out and touching the speaker again. “Okay? Five. Then we’ll be back with you. Is Corin okay, Paz? Are you okay? How, how are-”

“He’s okay.” Paz replies. His voice is suddenly a little shaky too. “We’re all… okay. Just, hurry home.” A moment’s pause before he adds in almost a whisper. “Please.”

“Five hours, Paz, sweetie, I promise.” Dulsissia gulps down some air. “Corin, baby, you hear me?”

“I’m here, mom.” His voice is choked with tears. “Is… Is uncle Vecon with you?”

Dulsissia hesitates, glances over at Davarax who stands like a silent guardian next to her, then focuses on the speaker again. “No. It’s just me and Davarax. Don’t worry, Corin.”

“Did you kick his ass?” Raga’s voice pipes up. “I hope you kicked his ass.”

“Of course they kicked his ass.” Din scoffs. “Davarax would never let someone take Dulcy away and not kick their ass.”

Dulsissia hesitates, glances over at Davarax again and this time he shrugs, so she turns back to the speaker with an awkward look on her face. “Yeah, uhm, there was. Serious ass-kicking.”

“Can’t you come home sooner, mom?” Corin pleads.

“I wish, Corin, but we can’t. We’re going as fast as we can. But we’ll be there soon.” Dulsissia replies, hating she can’t grant her son’s wish and just appear in front of him. But there is one voice missing. “Barthor, baby, you there?”

There is a second of silence and then there is a cautious and slightly surprised; “...Yeah?”

“I just wanted to hear your voice. You okay?”

Another moment of hesitation before Barthor replies. “Y-yeah. I’m, uhm, yeah. Just… What they said. Hurry back.”

Dulsissia can’t help but to smile a little as she can practically ‘hear’ him blushing and Davarax must hear it too as his hand touches her shoulder and gives it a light, teasing squeeze. “We will.”

The five hours are spent half-drowsing in Davarax’ arms after he takes over the pilot seat and pulls her down on his lap. She tries to relocate to her own seat, claiming she has to be cutting off the blood supply to his legs after a while, but he refuses to let go and they end up staying like that.

And the only feeling that can compete with the peace she feels in his arms is the one she gets when she steps through the door to the Covert and Corin flings himself into her arms.

Din rushes over, wraps his arms around Davarax’ waist and buries his face in his stomach, while the Mandalorian gently strokes his hair.

Kneeling down and hugging her son close, giving up on holding back sobs of joy, Dulsissia peppers his hair with kisses and feels his thin arms trying to hold on even tighter. Her boy is shivering so hard it’s scary. She pets his back, his hair, continues to kiss him and squeeze him tight.

It’s almost accidental when she looks up and sees the other children standing there. Raga is clinging to Paz’ arm, tears in her eyes. Barthor hovers in the back, tears in his eyes. And Paz… who knows. The helmet doesn’t reveal anything.

Dulsissia manages a weak smile and reaches out an inviting arm.

Raga bolts forward and crashes into her so hard it kind of hurts, but Dulsissia hugs her close and Corin automatically wraps his arm around her as well. Getting Barthor to come over takes a little fingerwaggling and a nod, but eventually he slinks over. Din joins when Davarax gives him a gentle push in their direction. It feels so right, so lovely, so perfect to just hug them, squeeze them and reassure them.

Arms crossed, Paz watches them, not moving when she tries to wave him closer. In the end, she ushers her armful over to Davarax and lets them unleash their hugs on him before straightening up and stepping over to stand in front of the quiet boy.

“No hug?” She asks.

“Kids first.” He replies in a curt tone.

Dulsissia pulls him close, hugs him tight and whispers; “The helmet doesn’t change anything, tough guy. You’re still my baby. Just like the others. Always. Remember?”

Paz hesitates, then his arms slowly come up and go around her in return. “Okay…” And in that moment, he does sound terribly young and even a little lost.

Eventually Davarax makes a slight grunt and says; “Maybe we can head inside?”

Dulsissia looks over and has to smile a little as she sees he’s balancing the climbing Raga on one shoulder while Corin is holding on to his free hand with both of his. “Yeah, let’s go.”

-

The children marches on ahead, except for Corin who insists on holding on to her hand and walk next to her, and Dulsissia uses the chance to lean over towards Davarax beside her and whisper; “We have to warn them, remember?”

Davarax nods. “I remember. But it’s late. Even if we go and try to talk to her, nothing will be done tonight. It’s better to wait for morning. We got time. Tomorrow, I’ll take you to her tomorrow.”

Dulsissia sighs. “Davarax…”

“Trust me.” He says, reaching out and sliding his hand behind her neck, giving it a light and teasing squeeze. “I know what I’m doing.”

She trusts him, she really does. It’s just that Dulsissia has this horrible feeling…

They enter her and Corin’s room, where she sits down on the bed, Corin still attached to her arm, while Davarax hovers by the door and the children barely has time to settle in a semi-circle on the floor before they start asking questions about what had happened to her while she was away.

Dulsissia manages to weed out some answers of her own. Like she suspected, her cookie customers had happily told the tale of what had happened to her and after that, it was easy to weed out which ship had arrived and the name of the officer.

“It’s late.” Davarax points out when Raga mutters about how he had to go alone to save her. “You kids should head home.”

“Can…” Din clears his throat, shifts his position a little awkwardly. “Can I stay here tonight?”

Corin nods. “He has bad dreams, mom. He dreamt the droids got you.”

Heart breaking, Dulsissia looks over at Davarax, who sighs and starts prodding at his vambrace.

“I’ll ask them.” He mumbles.

“Me too!” Raga shouts. “Can I stay too? Please?” She meekly offers; “I-I’ll be good. I promise.”

“If you’re staying, I’m staying.” Paz mutters.

“What about you?” Dulsissia asks as she sees Barthor stare at the floor.

The young boy scoffs. “My mom will never let me sleep over.”

“Want to bet?” Davarax says, a slight edge to his voice.

Looking around the room, Dulsissia quickly calculates that while the children will most likely pile up together like they did on the camping trip, there really isn’t enough bedding to make comfortable mattresses for them. She has an idea…

Dulsissia clears her throat. “How about… we all spend the night in Davarax’ room?”

The man’s t-visor snaps up from staring at the vambrace he’s prodding at. “Say what now?”

Din lights up like a sunrise. He stares at his hero and role model by the doorway. “Oh, can we?”

Davarax looks over at Dulsissia, who gives him a sweet smile in return, and he ends up giving a heavy sigh. “Just… let me talk to your parents first.”

They all settle and stare as he lifts his hand to his ear-piece and starts connecting to the different Mandalorians via their HUD comm links. Davarax switches off his external mic, so they can’t hear what he’s saying, but first he points at Din and gives a thumbs up. Which has Corin make a happy squeak, move forward as if to hug the other boy, but then realizes it means letting go of Dulsissia’s arm and sits back again with an anxious look. She has to nudge him twice before her son will let go and slide down to join his grinning friend on the floor.

Next Davarax points at Raga and gives a thumbs up. She starts a happy sound but it dies mid-squeak as she sends Paz a quick look. She settles down with a frown, taking a hold of his arm.

Dulsissia observes the annoyed twitch in Davarax’ shoulders, but after what must have been an interesting discussion, he points at Paz and gives a thumbs up. The helmet hides Paz’ reaction, but Raga lets out the rest of her happy squeak and smacks him in the shoulder with both hands, to which he responds with a half-hearted shove in return and something that sounds a lot like a faint laugh.

Barthor continues to stare at the floor while the rest stare with anticipation at Davarax. The last conversation is without a doubt the longest, Davarax even crosses his arms and taps his helmet lightly back against the door frame a couple of times, but then comes the moment when he straightens and turns his mic back on. “Barthor?”

The boy sighs and slowly looks over at him.

Davarax gives him the thumbs up.

Barthor’s eyes widen in mute surprise, a disbelieving smile breaks free and then he’s flattened the other cheering children.

-

“I hope you have a plan.” Davarax had said, watching the wrestling match on the floor. Dulsissia had given him a grin, whistled for the children’s attention and then handed out assignments.

And that is how both mattresses from their beds, all the blankets and bed covers from her and Corin’s room are carried across to Davarax’ room and placed on the floor next to Davarax’ bed. The children are acting like they are indeed camping again, all smiles and eagerness, as they get to create a nest of their own.

Dulsissia sees Corin is torn between the urge to hang on her arm and join in with the others, so she nudges him again. As much as she wouldn’t mind him clinging after having felt the fear that she’d never see him again, Dulsissia cannot forget the memory of watching him playing and running around with his friends without that anxious look in his eyes. It hurts, but she encourages him to join the others.

“I’ll be right here, baby.” She reassures him.

Davarax helps the children adjust the mattresses a little and then deem the make-shift bedding worthy of his children. He walks over to where Dulsissia is standing. “The kids are set. You take the bed. I’ll, uh…” He looks around, as if scouting for a free spot on the floor.

“You and me are sharing the bed.” Dulsissia states. “The bed are for old people. Like us.”

“I said I was sorry!” Barthor groans. “Let it go.”

“Never.” Dulsissia snaps back. Then she realizes that Davarax is just staring at her. “What?”

Davarax just shakes his head and turns to look at the chattering children settling in their places.

“And would you mind taking off the armor?” Dulsissia asks. “You can, inside the Covert, right?”

Davarax gives a tiny nod.

It takes some time before the children calm down and settle for the night. Dulsissia does a final check on them, fluffing pillows and deliberately cooing all sorts of endearments suitable for far younger children. Raga lies closest to the door, curled up to Paz’ back and holding on like a little jetpack, while Paz has his arm around Din, who has Corin on the other side, and closest to the bed is Barthor.

“Okay, lights out.” Dulsissia declares after Davarax climbs into the bed and flops down on his back. “Sweet dreams, and if any of you need anything, just call out. Okay?”

There is a chorus of ‘okay’s.

After turning the lights off and cautiously making her way back to bed without stepping on anyone, Dulsissia climbs into it. As Davarax insists on being closest to the door, she has to also climb over him. Sighing satisfied, she curls up close to him, rests her head on his chest and abruptly notes how incredibly tense he is. And how he is very deliberately not touching her.

After a while, Dulsissia lets out a soft laugh. “You’re going to have to breathe eventually, you know.”

“No.” The answer is resolute.

Dulsissia giggles.

Corin’s head pops up from the pile. “Mom?” Several sleepy blinks. “What’s so funny?”

Dulsissia hoists herself up on her side to look at the children on the floor at the other side of Davarax, ‘innocently’ placing a hand on Davarax’ stomach, pretending to keep her balance that way while gently groping the fabric of the shirt. “Nothing, baby. Go back to sleep.”

Corin’s head flops down again, but at the same time, to her utter surprise, Dulsissia feels Davarax’ hand cup her behind and she has to suffocate a squeak. Corin’s head pops up again. “Mom?”

“It’s fine, Corin.” Dulsissia prods two fingers next to one of Davarax’ wounds and he jolts with a muffled grunt.

Corin’s head goes down again.

Davarax’ takes a firmer grip on her behind, hitching her abruptly closer, and she places a hand an unharmed area on his chest to push herself away, but then he uses his other hand to grab hers, pulling her even closer, so she squirms to free herself. They both struggle to muffle their laughter.

Paz’ helmet comes up and he lets out a very annoyed; “SHHH!”

Davarax and Dulsissia both withdraw their hands, fighting even harder to keep the laughter quiet.

“Sorry.” Dulsissia stutters through choked giggles.

“Yeah, sorry.” Davarax adds, struggling hard to silence his own laughter.

Grunting, still very much annoyed, Paz lies back down again.

As the laughter calms, Dulsissia searches and finds Davarax’ hand. She takes it, lifts it up to hold it between their chests, and smiles as their fingers begin their slow, pointless dance of just touching and braiding and feeling.

This. Dulsissia Motti realizes that she doesn’t need her fortune, her fancy clothes or the fancy food. She just needs this man and these children.

Fate brought them together and nothing can tear them apart.

-

Macero Valentis looks down at the pale face of his brother as he lies dead in the med bay.

“Sir?” One of the officers step into the room, through the door flanked by two Death Troopers. “Sir, it is confirmed. The Razor Crest is back on Nevarro.”

“Good. Increase our speed. Prepare the squads.” Macero says. “Fuel up the Flame Troopers, but make it clear I want my wife and son brought back alive.”

The officer nods and disappears out of the room.

Macero’s eyes narrow.

Nevarro is going to burn and every Mandalorian there with it.

-

“Listen, she has agreed to hear you out, but remember that you’re an, well, outsider.” Davarax says, before quickly adding; “To her.”

Dulsissia nods, arms tightly wrapped around herself, increasingly more nervous as they walk towards the Forge. “I understand.”

Davarax enters the room first, she follows, and they both kneel down and wait for the leader of the Mandalorians to approach them.

Feeling every second ticking away as a life lost, Dulsissia has to dig her nails into the palms of her hands to keep quiet. It was bad enough that they didn’t approach her yesterday, but now time might actually be running out.

Finally the one in a golden mask approaches them. “So he managed to bring you back.”

“Yes.” Dulsissia says, looking up at the leader. “But I fear trouble might follow me. There is a man in the Imperial Army. An officer. His brother was killed yesterday. He will want revenge for that.” She swallows hard. “And he’ll want me and my son.”

The Mandalorian leader stares at her for a couple of seconds then looks over at Davarax. “If he comes, we will fight. That is the Way.”

“No.” Dulsissia shakes her head. “No, you can’t fight him. Didn’t you hear me? He’s an officer in the Imperial Army. He will bring his forces here and he will destroy Nevarro. You have to run before he gets here.”

“I was hoping some time apart might clear your mind, but you are still blinded by her it seems.” The leader says, now clearly speaking to Davarax.

“I love her.” Davarax states it like a simple fact.

Dulsissia’s heart does a double-flip, not expecting him to confess that in front of his leader.

“That might be your downfall.” The one in gold armor warns him.

“You don’t like me.” Dulsissia says, her voice sharp with a touch of anger but mostly impatience. “There’s not much I can do about that. But you don’t have to like me to listen to what I’m telling you; you have to evacuate the Covert.”

The leader’s visor turns back to focus on Dulsissia. “We are Mandalorians. We fight. That is the Way.”

“But it won’t be a fight.” Dulsissia insists. “It will be a slaughter. And you have children here! Do you expect them to fight as well? Do you think this man will spare them? Because he won’t.”

Davarax reaches out and discretely touches Dulsissia’s arm in a signal for her to calm down.

“We have stayed in this Covert for many years and survived. Our kind has survived the Imperial Army before. That is the Way.” The leader replies, turning away.

“No.” Dulsissia gets up, shakes off Davarax’ hand and takes a step forward. “Listen to me! Please! This man will come here and he will kill everyone. You had the other Coverts established in case of an emergency. You knew something bad could happen some day. This is that day.”

Davarax is up on his feet too now and Dulsissia can feel his looming presence behind her back, ready to either stop her or defend her, she wonders if he knows which.

“This Covert took in me and my son when we had nowhere to go and we would have starved or worse if not for your help. I may not have sworn the Creed, but you have my loyalty. I would fight side by side with you against this man if I thought there was the slightest chance that he’d fight fair and we’d stand a chance against the number of weapons and soldiers he’s bringing. I would gladly die for these children.”

The armorer takes a step towards her, suddenly uncomfortably close, but Dulsissia makes herself stand her ground. She knows how much courage means to Mandalorians.

“You would die for them?”

“Yes.”

“Then you would stay while they go to the new Covert?”

“Then I am staying too.” Davarax states.

“No, you will not.” Dulsissia snaps, then focuses on the one in gold. “If that is what it takes for you to get the children to safety. All I ask is that you take my son with you. Let Davarax raise him as his own.” Maybe this is the punishment she deserves for not seeing through Macero’s act back then?

Besides, Macero won’t kill her. That would be way too easy. He will make her suffer instead, and that means there is hope for an escape.

Corin will never forgive her, but at least he will be alive and free to hate her and in safe hands.

-

Nevarro burns. 

Most of the buildings here are reduced to ruins after the ships had bombed the area into submission. Powerful bursts of flame now flows through the air as the Flame Troopers wander around in the streets and gleefully tries to set fire to everything. Storm troopers are flooding into the underground entrances that leads below to the sewers and Macero has been told is the Mandalorian hide-out.

Forty standard minutes later, Macero is told that the place is entirely abandoned. No signs of any Mandalorians, his wife or his son.

“It’s said that a Mando brought your wife and a bunch of children on board the Razor Crest.” A Death Trooper reports. “Based on the description, sounds like the same guy as before.”

Usually Macero knows to bottle up his rage and stay calm. He knows Dulsissia is probably poisoning his son’s mind against him, but that can be corrected once Macero gets the boy back. 

However, the thought of this filthy Mando, Vecon’s murderer, fathering the next Motti child instead of him… Macero lashes out and sends everything on his desk flying. All those year, all the planning, all the effort it took to get Dulsissia, ruined. “I WANT HIS HEAD ON MY WALL!”

“Sir?” The Death Trooper clears his throat. “Sir, if I may, I have an idea…”

Panting, Macero turns his glare over at the trooper. “What is your name, soldier?”

The Death Trooper removes his helmet and gives him a smug smile. “My name is Dominic, sir. And if you want someone to hunt down this Mando for you, I know just the guy. This one just loves chasing down dangerous prey.”

-

The new Covert is a lot smaller than the one on Nevarro, but situated in the same kind of dry, dusty environment, underground and next to a small town. And while the structure is ready, it takes no small amount of work to get the place habitable.

For the next three weeks, Dulsissia works herself half to death. She gets up early and is among the last to quit, but the guilt of knowing they had to relocate because of Macero is driving her. Especially when they get the message that Nevarro had been levelled to the ground and was now nothing but a smoking pile of ashes. 

Dulsissia expects the Mandalorians to turn on her, blame her for tearing them up from their home, but to her surprise; none of them seem fazed at all and don’t treat her any different than before; with mild indifference.

The leader of the Mandalorians sends Dulsissia a long, indecipherable look when they get the news about Nevarro’s fate, but doesn’t say anything.

Corin competes with Din for having the most nightmares during the first couple of weeks and sticks to her like glue despite her efforts to have him join the other children. He keeps expecting his father to appear at any second and jumps at any sudden sound.

Davarax works even harder than all of them and she barely sees a glimpse of him for what feels like ages. He’s either out gathering supplies or hunting down prey for the bounty so he can buy whatever the Covert needs to become fully functional. 

Dulsissia leaves small boxes in front of his door, with food and even some cookies she manages to barter into her possession. She finds beautiful flowers, including ones made out of folded paper when he’s clearly been where none are to be found, in front of her door and she misses him so much she could cry.

Especially as Davarax’ room is as far away from Dulsissia’s as possible and Dulsissia knows the leader has made it so. She may be allowed to stay with the Covert, but is clearly not worthy of him.

Dulsissia feels a bittersweet happiness when Davarax shows up at her door one evening and asks to borrow her for a little while. A quick glance over at where Corin and Raga are playing some game results in her son giving her a brave smile and telling them to go. Her sweet selfless boy.

“Where are we going?” Dulsissia asks as she follows Davarax.

“Nowhere special, I’m afraid.” Davarax says in a tired sigh. “I just got back and I haven’t… I just…” His fingers touch hers as they walk. “I just wanted to talk to you for a bit. Hear your voice.”

Dulsissia braids their fingers together and holds on to his hand. “I’d like that very much.” They’ve barely spent any time together since they left Nevarro.

She is a little surprised when he brings her out of the Covert, circles around the building hiding their secret entrance, and then they sit down on the sand behind it, their backs against the wall.

It’s a lovely view over the desert stretching out in front of them, stars are starting to appear in the sky and there is just the calm hum of the town nearby to disturb them.

“Tell me about the kids.” Davarax asks, carefully sliding his arm around her shoulders and leaning his helmet back against the wall. “Are they settling in?”

She tells him about Din wanting to start with blaster target practice, Raga making friends with her new braiding skills, Barthor working on making a com set for just them, Corin having fewer nightmares and Paz getting into a horrible brawl with a group of older teenagers. Dulsissia also tries to ask Davarax about his travels and how he is, but he keeps avoiding the questions and just wants to talk about her and the kids. She doesn’t push him. He sounds tired enough as is.

It’s when she’s complaining about Decco nearly breaking her arm during their last practice that Dulsissia picks up on Davarax’ deep, even breathing and how his helmet has tilted ever so slightly and barely touches her head.

He’s asleep. 

For Davarax to fall asleep out in the open, it really underlines how exhausted he must be and Dulsissia aches for him. So tired and yet he had sought her out instead of rest...

She watches their surroundings, just in case, and she lets him sleep.

The man is exhausted and someone needs to make sure he doesn’t wear himself out entirely. Davarax spends his every waking hour looking after everyone else, but who is looking after him?

Life as a Mandalorian is a dangerous one and she fears what could happen if he’s too worn down to protect himself when danger finds him.

-

Dulsissia watches, arms crossed and once again with conflicted feelings, when the day comes when Barthor comes preening into the training room with his green helmet on. And to think it’s only two months left before she’ll never be allowed to braid Raga’s hair again…

She’s still not used to seeing Paz wearing his.

Davarax had reassured her that it is allowed to remove the helmet in front of one’s family so at least she would be allowed to see Corin’s face again if he decides to take the Creed, but the fact that he’ll never sit with his friends and feel the sun on his face saddens her.

It also makes her a little hesitant at the thought of wearing one for the rest of her own life.

“Davarax.” A Mandalorian in green and grey armor stands in the doorway. “A word.”

Davarax gestures for Paz to start the warm-up before walking over to his fellow Mandalorian.

The conversation is quiet and even then, after a quick glance her way, Davarax gestures for them to use their HUD com links and cut their external mics. It sets off countless warning bells in Dulsissia’s mind.

When the other Mandalorian leaves, she stalks over. “What?”

Davarax sighs, activates his mic again. “We lost a Mandalorian. He was meant to bring back some supplies but never showed up. Dez found him yesterday. Dead.”

“Dead?” Dulsissia feels ice cold dread spread through her. “Macero?”

“We don’t know that.” Davarax reassures her. “The Galaxy isn’t exactly short of dangerous people, Dulcy. It’s not the first brother we’ve lost over the years. Even on Nevarro.”

“So why do you sound so uneasy?” Dulsissia snaps, hearing the tension in his voice.

“I just…” Davarax shrugs. “It’s stupid, but… A piece of his armor was missing. Why not take all of it? Why just one piece?”

“A trophy.” Dulsissia whispers. “My father and his friends used to do that when hunting creatures. They would take a fang, a horn, something, as a trophy. Bragging rights.”

“As I said, we don’t know. It might be a coincidence. It might be nothing.” Davarax places his hand on her shoulder and gives it a reassuring squeeze. “Try not to worry. It’s easy to say and difficult to do, I know. But there is no point in dreading something that might not come to happen.”

He’s right. She knows he is. But that still can’t stop her from worrying.

But then weeks go by and nothing more odd or bad happens. Things are starting to stabilize a little at the new Covert, it’s starting to feel a bit like the old one, and because Davarax is away on a mission Dulsissia even tries to smile in his place the day Raga puts on her helmet.

“It’s not fair.” Din mutters, arms crossed.

Standing next to him, Corin shrugs. “Well, I like looking at your face, so…”

In an instant, Din’s aforementioned face turns a deep red and he loses his battle against a tiny smile. “Y-you’re okay too. Your face. I mean, your face is okay too.”

Corin laughs. “Thanks.”

Din goes even a deeper shade of red.

Behind them, hearing the conversation, Dulsissia places a hand over her heart and nearly swoons over the adorableness of it all. She can’t wait to tell Davarax that her too perfect to be true son has his first crush, on Din! It’s too cute.

When she hears Davarax’ ship has landed, that he’s back, Dulsissia trots towards the entrance to greet him and inform him of this very interesting development.

She comes to an abrupt halt and all the giddy happiness in her chest evaporates when Davarax and two other Mandalorians enter while carrying something between them. A body wearing Mandalorian armor. They leave behind a trail of blood drops as they disappear into the darkness of the Covert.

-

After that, it takes no more than one week before the next one dies. Nine days until the next. Four days. Every time a piece of armor goes missing.

“Don’t go.” Dulsissia begs, reaching out and holding on to his arms so hard her fingers hurt from digging into him. “Don’t.”

Davarax sighs and shakes his head. “I have to.”

“No, you don’t.” She argues, desperate. “You don’t. You can stay here. Stay here with me. With the children. Stay.”

“Dulcy…” Davarax gently tucks a lock of her hair behind her ear. “Don’t worry. It’s going to be fine. I’ll be back in a couple of days.”

Shaking her head stubbornly, Dulsissia wraps her arms around his waist and holds on tight. Maybe if she just refuses to let go she can keep him here by force.

Chuckling, Davarax wraps his own arms around her and rocks her gently. “Cyare, nothing bad is going to happen. I promise. I’ll come back to you. You think some mercenary can keep me away from you? Not a chance.”

Gritting her teeth and fighting against the tears, Dulsissia tightens her grip. “Don’t go.” He’d just come back from the last job yesterday and he’d kept nodding off all morning. “Please. Don’t.”

“I have to.” Davarax repeats, his hands move up to cup her face and forces her to look up at his t-visor. “When I get back, how about I teach you that dance you saw Roota do?”

“How about you stay and teach me now?” Dulsissia hiccups, losing the battle against the tears as she realizes there is no way she can persuade him to stay.

Mumbling something in Mando’a, Davarax leans down and places his forehead to hers.

Dulsissia covers her mouth with a shaky hand, sobbing quietly as she watches him walk away.

She’s wrong. Davarax comes back without a scratch. And he teaches her that funny looking dance.

It’s the mission after where things goes horribly, horribly wrong.

Dulsissia is walking towards her and Corin’s room with an armful of laundry when she notices helmet after helmet on several Mandalorians turning to look at her. 

Blinking nervously, figuring they’ve gotten some kind of message via their helmets, Dulsissia halts, holds her laundry close and half-expects them to tell her that Macero is outside the door or just draw their blasters to shoot her.

“Dulcy.” Decco’s voice says and the Mandalorian comes walking towards her. “Haven’t you heard?”

“Heard what?” Dulcy whispers, now even more scared. Corin, where is Corin? Has something happened to Corin? The other children? Is it Macero?

“They brought Davarax back.” Decco says. “He is below. I’m sorry.”

For a second, the words just rattle around Dulsissia’s head and don’t make any kind of sense to her. “N-no…” Dulsissia can’t breathe. She shakes her head, trying to evict the words before they can take root, make sense and reveal the horrible truth to her. “No.”

Davarax is not dead. He can’t be dead. It’s not possible. No. NO!

For the first time there is compassion in Decco’s voice as she speaks. “He fought valiantly.”

Violent shivers shudders through Dulsissia and she fails to notice how the laundry slips from her arms and just fall to the floor. “No…” She shakes her head again, tears welling up and escaping from her eyes. “Please, no…”

She can’t breathe. She can’t breathe!

Decco reaches out to touch her arm and the contact sends a jolt through Dulsissia, tossing her from horrified apathy to desperate denial.

“NO!” Dulssissia runs. She runs down the hallway, towards the door where she had seen them bring the other Mandalorians brought back, lifeless and missing a piece of armor. Every Mandalorian she meets, steps aside and lowers their visors.

Rushing down the stairs, she comes to the corridor below and Dulsissia comes to an abrupt halt when she sees the children there. They are huddled together, Paz doing his best to gather them in his embrace, and she can hear some of them crying from a distance.

The hysteria flares out and turns into an icy numbness. 

Dulsissia walks forward, unaware of her own tears and the shivering heaves of air her lungs fight for. She can’t even look at the children, who all turn to face her. All she can see is the is the trail of blood leading to an open door, where she can see someone lying on a make-shift bed. 

Due to the angle of the room, she can only see them from the waist down, but she knows who it is because of the helmet lying on the floor next to them.

Davarax’ helmet is stained with blood and lies in a pool of it.

For a second, Dulsissia has to stop. Her chest is compressing so hard that she truly can’t breathe, her heart cannot beat and everything hurts. She closes her eyes and her mouth opens in a silent scream of pure agony.

It’s the sound of footsteps that snaps her out of it. The children approaching her. And it’s too much. She can’t face them now. She can’t.

She has to see.

Forcing her feet to carry her forward, Dulsissia knows she’s on the verge of passing out as she steps into the room, but she enters anyway.

Dulsissia recognizes his boots, his pants, his torso that is once again bared and again covered with blood due to more wounds, injuries they had put bacta patches on, but these won’t heal to become scars. She slowly, almost reluctantly lifts her gaze further, sees the huge pressure bandage to his neck that is soaked through with blood.

And his face...

More hot tears spill from her eyes and Dulsissia tilts her head as she studies him. His hair is as dark as Corin’s, he has more than stubble at this point, a strong jawline and almost stern eyebrows that somehow only enhances the kind expression on his face. He is the kind of handsome that would have had all the girls on Seswenna swooning over him. He’s even more perfect than she’d dare to dream he would be.

Dulsissia can’t hold back an agonized sob.

And that is when he slowly opens his eyes, gorgeous dark eyes, to look at her.

-

Shock, disbelief, insane hope, everything slams into her at once. Dulsissia rushes over to his side, grabs his hand and holds it between both of hers. “Davarax?”

He blinks wearily. “Hey…”

His voice, unfiltered and drenched with pain, confirming that he is indeed alive.

Now the sobs are unbridled relief and joy, Dulsissia leans down to press kisses to his hand. “You’re alive. Thank the stars, you’re alive. I thought… They said… You’re alive.”

“I’m sorry…” Davarax whispers.

“Sorry?” Dulsissia’s head whips up to look at him, still crying with relief. “What are you sorry for?”

Davarax’ beautiful dark eyes avoid hers, even though he’s clearly too weakened to do much else. “My helmet. They had to take it off.” He swallows and cringes with pain, probably due to the wound on his neck. “To stop the bleeding. I can’t put it back on. It’s not allowed.”

Shaking her head, even more confused, Dulsissia kisses his hand again. “Then don’t wear it. I don’t care.”

“You don’t understand.” Davarax breaks into a couple of coughs and has to grit his teeth against the pain. Sweat is glistering on his skin. He makes himself look at her again. “I’ve broken my Creed. I… I have to leave the Covert. I have to leave you.”

Dulsissia blinks and then she sits up straight. “No. If you’re not allowed to stay, then we will leave.”

Davarax tries to sit up as well but can barely get his head up an inch from the pillow before he falls back with a gasp of pain and has to breathe for several seconds. “Dulcy… You don’t understand.”

“Then explain it to me.”

“You were right. The killings.” Davarax swallows, a drop of sweat trailing from his temple. “It was Macero. He hired some… nightmare of a creature. To go after Mandalorians.” He swallows again. “He said he was going to bring… my head back to Macero Valentis. For his wall.”

Dulsissia feels a wave of nausea roll through her. Her fault. This is her fault. She can tell by the severity of the cut to his neck how close this ‘nightmare-thing’ had come to succeeding.

“Without the Covert…” Davarax sounds utterly resigned amidst his pain. “I can’t protect you, Dulcy. I can’t keep… you and Corin safe. From him. Not on my own. You have to stay here.”

Shaking her head, Dulsissia reaches out and ever so gently cups the side of his face, feeling the warm skin and slight roughness of his heavy stubble verging on beard. “I don’t want you to protect me, Davarax. I want us to protect each other. I’m learning to fight and with you I can only get better. And Mandalor help whomever tries to put their hands on my son.”

Davarax almost smiles, but the sadness from his eyes is not banished. And, oh, he looks so tired. “Except for the Razor Crest and my armor, I have nothing, Dulcy. I can offer you nothing.”

Dulsissia reaches out her other hand, holds his face carefully between her hands, and holds his gaze as well. “Marry me.”

“What?”

“Will you marry me?” Dulsissia repeats.

“I…” Davarax looks utterly confused and he even manages to lift a hand to touch her arm. His touch is very cold. “Dulcy, did you hear what I said?”

“Yeah.” She says. “Did you hear me?”

“But…” Davarax frowns, the confusion drowning out the pain for a moment.

“I love you.” Dulsissia says, running a thumb along his cheekbone. “I’m not losing you again. Wherever you go, I go. So, will you marry me?”

Davarax swallows. “Yes.”

Dulsissia feels sweet, giddy joy flood her veins. She caresses his face for a little while, fascinated by how incredibly lovely he looks, it’s not fair he gets to have such a handsome face when he’s also the kindest man she’s ever met. “One more question.” She moves one hand down to trail two fingers over his lips. “Can I kiss you?”

Something flashes in Davarax’ eyes and he looks strangely nervous when he nods.

“You sure?” Dulsissia asks, a little wary after his odd reaction.

But there is no hesitation in his second nod so she leans down and, mindful of his wounds and weakened state, she gently brushes her lips to his.

It’s just as sweet as she suspected it would be.

But when Dulsissia pulls back, she sees the utterly dazed look in Davarax’ eyes and that combined with the slightly passive response she’d gotten fuels a suspicion in her head. “Was that… your first kiss?” Surely not.

The only thing preventing Davarax from blushing right now is the lack of blood in his body. He finally gives the tiniest of nods.

That stuns Dulsissia for a second and that is when she hears her beloved son’s voice whisper;

“I told you she would find a way. I told you we weren’t going to lose him. I told you!”

Sitting up straight, Dulsissia looks over at the doorway. “If we’re going to live on the Razor Crest for the foreseeable future, we are going to have a talk about privacy, baby. Get your butt in here.”

Corin shuffles in, flushing deep red. “Sorry, mom.”

Din follows him and stares angrily at Dulsissia. “You are leaving too? You and Corin?”

Dulsissia nods. “Yes. We are going with Davarax.” She hears Davarax drawing a pained breath, either to apologize or try to explain or something, so she squeezes his hand gently and shakes her head at him. “You. Rest.”

“What about me?” Din asks, the anger giving way to despair. “I don’t want to stay here. Please. Don’t leave me. If you do, I’ll run away! They will never find me. I’ll die before I go back.”

Dulsissia hesitates. “Baby, I…”

“I want to come too.” Paz steps into the room, followed by Raga and Barthor. He reaches up and takes a hold of his helmet, but Barthor grabs his arm.

“Paz! Take it off and you can’t put it back on. Remember?”

“I know.” Paz replies, shaking off the arm and calmly removing his helmet. The two years have chipped away at the roundness of his face and Dulsissia can see he’s at the very start of growing into the man he’ll one day become. “I’m going with you.”

Raga silently removes hers as well. “My parents have my brothers. I’m just trouble to them.”

Lost for words, Dulsissia merely stares at them.

-

Before any more words can be exchanged someone steps into the room. The children quickly step back to give room for the Armorer to enter.

Dulsissia tenses up and holds on tight to Davarax’ hand. What does the leader want?

“Get out.” The one in gold armor orders.

The children rush out of the room, but Dulsissia hesitates. She looks over at Davarax.

“Go...” He says. “It’s fine.”

Dulsissia gets up but pauses next to the Armorer. “I’ll be waiting right outside. Okay?”

“Okay.” Davarax replies.

Dulsissia reluctantly steps out of the room, but does what she said; waits right outside the door that closes behind her. The children all stare curiously at her, but she shakes her head at them, not ready to answer questions yet. She has too many of her own.

And most of them are then answered by accident.

She doesn’t mean to eavesdrop, but the room isn’t exactly sound-proof and the door is flimsy.

“I told you.” The leader’s voice says, but sounding… different. “I warned you she would become your downfall. Now look at you, vod.”

“And I told you, I love her.”

“She made you weak.”

“No.” Davarax coughs and grunts with pain. “No, not weak. Without her… I don’t think I could have defeated him, vod. Without her, I think I would have ended up dead. She… She makes me… want to live.”

“Everyone knows they took off your helmet.”

“I’m aware.” Davarax mumbles. “We both knew this was a possibility with that rule. It’s okay.”

“Where are you going to go, vod?”

“I don’t know.” A short silence. He’s struggling to speak, so very exhausted. “I’m going to miss you, vod. Mom would have been proud of you.”

“Promise me you will kill that Valentis vermin.”

“One day.”

“Ret'urcye mhi, vod.” The leader’s voice is back to normal again. And the door opens before she steps out into the hallway. There the golden helmet turns its visor to focus on Dulsissia. “He says he is alive because of you. Make it your Way to keep him alive.”

Dulsissia nods.

The leader then looks over at the children, pauses on Paz. “Your father will not be pleased.”

Paz gives her a weak smile. “When is he ever?”

“That is his Way.” The visor turns back to Dulsissia. “Take supplies from the food storage. Bring Davarax’ weapons. Load up the Razor Crest. I suggest you move fast, as once Dez Vizla learns of this he will indeed not be pleased. And he will blame you. Davarax is in no shape to protect you.”

“Thank you.” Dulsissia means it. “For everything. And I’m sorry.”

“It is what it is.” The leader replies. “May you find your Way.”

Dulsissia watches the Mandalorian walk away, takes a deep breath and turns back to the children looking at her. While Dulsissia has no trouble bringing Paz along, his father will be livid over him removing the helmet and isn’t fit to raise him anyway, but the rest… “Raga, are you sure-”

“I’m coming.” The girl states, uncharacteristically calm. “I know what you’re going to say, Dulcy. I love my mom and dad, I do, but… I like being with you guys. Back home it is always screaming and punching and stupidheads. One time I fell asleep in Din’s hiding place and when I ran home the next morning, they hadn’t even noticed I was gone. I’m old enough to put on the helmet, I can decide to leave.”

“You have to tell them.” Dulsissia says, and Raga nods.

Corin stares wide-eyed up at his mother, a look of awe he’s only given to Davarax in the past.

Dulsissia looks over at Barthor, hovering in the background and the only one still wearing his helmet. He jolts and shakes his head, so she gives him a soft smile. “It’s okay, baby. Don’t worry. Nobody is angry with you if you want to stay. That’s perfectly okay.”

Paz and Raga glance back at him and pull him forward to hug him between them, mumbling reassurances that they are not angry with him.

“Din…” Dulsissia says and he is quick to interrupt her.

“I will run away. I will! I swear it!” He steps forward, breathing hard. “Don’t leave me here.”

“We’re not going to leave you.” Dulsissia promises. “But we are going to have to record a message for your parents.”

“They are not my parents.” Din mutters with distaste.

“According to the Covert they are.” Dulsissia points out and closes her eyes for a moment. “Okay. Listen up, here’s what we are going to do…”

-

Dulsissia and Paz have Davarax between them helping him walk the final steps before they can ease him into the seat. Getting him up to the cockpit of the Razor Crest had been both terrifying and exhausting, but they have managed, somehow, the three of them.

Davarax is soaked with sweat, beyond pale and in so much pain he can barely talk.

Corin and Raga are below in the cargo hold, fastening the crates of supplies they’d brought, while Din is in the pilot seat and already flipping switches and pressing buttons.

Paz gives Davarax a pat on the shoulder and then disappears to help Corin and Raga. Dulsissia checks on the wounds, sees a couple have started to bleed again, but it’s the one on the neck that worries her. The scanner she had ‘borrowed’ from the Covert had given her an idea of the damage done to him and she knows it won’t take much before that compromised artery will tear open. It’s a miracle he’s alive.

“We’re ready.” Din declares as the Razor Crest’s engines comes alive.

Dulsissia buckles Davarax in, gives his sweaty temple a quick kiss that he’s barely conscious to acknowledge and then trots over to stick her head down into the cargo hold. “You guys ready?”

Corin and Raga run over to the fold-down seats and starts buckling themselves in. Paz does a final check on the cargo being properly secured before he gives her the thumbs up and moves over to make sure Corin and Raga are securely buckled in.

Dulsissia gets up and finds her own seat, buckling in. “Okay, Din. Let’s go.”

The Razor Crest shudders and shakes a bit, Din clenches his jaw and tightens his grip on the controller and then eases the ship up into the air. “Okay… Here we go.”

Everything jolts a bit as they shoot forward and then race towards the blackness of space.

Once they are gliding smoothly among the stars, Dulsissia dares to unbuckle herself and walks over to check on Davarax. His head is hanging low and he seems to be out of it, but the scanner shows his vitals are strong if a little jumpy. Good.

“Mo-om?” Corin’s voice sounds from the cargo hold.

Ice cold dread strikes and Dulsissia runs over to the door and hurries below. “What is it, baby? What’s wrong? Who is hu..” Her voice dies out as she turns from the ladder and finds herself looking at Paz, Raga and Corin all standing around Barthor, who is sitting on the floor.

“Barthor?” He’s still wearing his helmet, the visor fixated on the floor, so Dulsissia crouches down in front of him. “Barthor, baby, what are you doing here?”

Barthor sighs and slowly lifts his visor to look at her. “My parents don’t care whether I’m there or not. The only friends I have are here.” He sounds horribly defeated. “What choice did I have?”

Dulsissia reaches out and stops him as he lifts his hands and takes a hold of his helmet. “Baby, no. Listen to me. You have a choice. If you want to, we turn around and bring you back home right away. If you want to stay, you stay and we send a message to your parents. And your helmet? You don’t have to take it off. You wear it as long as it feels right to you. Your choice, baby. Okay?”

Barthor nods, trying to hide a sniffle. He lowers his hands and leaves the helmet on. “But I already left them a message. So… I’d like to stay here, if that’s acceptable with you.”

Dulsissia has to smile and nods. “That is very acceptable.” She leans forward and taps her forehead to Barthor’s helmet, to which he ducks his head down with an embarrassed laugh.

That was the beginning.

The beginning of their family.

The beginning of their journey.

And the beginning of the end of Macero Valentis.

[kurohoely]

always (daichi x y/n)

part 2

genre: exes to lovers, slow burn(?) idk how genre works, sfw, daichi!timeskip

wc: 1.2k

a/n: thank you everyone for liking always part 1 TwT i almost cried seeing so many daichi stans reading and liking it. one more part to go! enjoy :D likes and reblogs are highly appreciated :))

part one , part two , part three

Small tears formed in the corner of your eyes. Such a sweet sentiment from someone that you only saw twice a week. There are still good things in this world. It’s always the small things that make people going. You flipped open your computer but then noticed her packing her stuff.

“Ah, Kaori-san. Are you going back home?”

“Yes, y/n-san. I got my work finished early today so I’m heading out. Do you still have a lot of work to do?”

“I’m just gonna finish everything today so I can leave early on Friday. Have a safe trip back home”

And you did stay here, rigorously typing the report and finishing the final touches of your presentation tomorrow. You glanced at the clock, it’s already 9 huh. Just one last push before you get that sweet, sweet week off. You pressed save and backed up everything, turning off your computer. You gather your stuff and start heading down, home. It looks like you were the only one left in the building, with only a few guards and janitors roaming around the halls. As you were about to pass through the auto gates, you noticed the same figure you saw when you took a break. Your breath hitched, pulse drumming inside your veins. It was almost like you forgot how to breathe. You stood at the gate for a while since he hasn’t noticed your presence just yet, gathering your scattered courage. You want to get out, away from him before your body follows what your heart wants. But before your body could even follow your mind, Daichi moved first, picking up the pace as he walked to you, as if he heard what your heart wanted.

“Hey y/n”

“Hey Sawamura, are you looking for someone?”

It pains Daichi that you used his last name. You made it very clear to him that whatever you both had was over, just how he wanted but somehow, it didn't feel right. After these months being away and not having you by his side felt so foreign, it was as if he was a void, an empty shell. His emotions went numb. He relies on his brain to function, keeping him alive but beyond that, he shuts off. Everything went stagnant, stale. Now, you’re in front of him again but he couldn’t reach you. He wants you. He needs you. He wants to fix whatever it is between you and he knows he has to do it now. He fumbled his fingers before speaking up again, shifting his gaze straight into your eyes. You felt a loud thump in your heart.

“Umm no, actually... I was waiting for you”

“Why? Did I leave anything at your place?”

“No! You didn’t unfortunately… I just wanted to come by and see… you know, how you're doing and… stuff…”

“That's nice Sawamura but I think you should focus on your girl now. Don't want her to think we’re up to something. I gotta go now, it's been a long night.”

“Yeah, it's pretty late already. Are you okay with me accompanying you back home?”

“It's okay Sawamura. Drive safely okay?”

You walked past him, towards the parking lot. Why? Why are you still the sweet person you are, just as how he remembers it? Your warmth was like the morning sun, embracing him at his most vulnerable state. Home. He wants to pull your figure into his embrace, flushing into his built. He wants that warmth to dissipate into him. Make him feel alive again. What did go wrong in your relationship? Before he could even try to pull back the memory, he was struck again by your words. Her. Who is her? Daichi swore he is not drunk and pretty sure that there's not yet a her now. He whipped his head in your direction but your shadow was long gone.

The long-awaited week off finally arrived. You started the day by cleaning up your house, airing up everything. Pillows, mattress, your plushies. Doing chores always make you feel productive, jamming through the blasting speakers of your “heads boppin walkin alone” playlist. You tried a new breakfast recipe that you saw on Tik Tok and turned out really good. The weather is so good today, it felt like a waste if you spend time indoors. You washed up quickly, you stared at your wardrobe, thinking what outfit of the day you should try now. Pushing one hanger at a time, you saw the sundress that Daichi bought for you. A knee-length dusty sage sundress, with pleated around the skirt area, v-lined, and half-arm length sleeves. Slipping into your white sandals, you grabbed your bag and headed out to your favorite bookstore. One whole week of doing nothing might as well pick up a new book.

You passed through the antique, small indie coffee shop that Daichi found while he was doing his morning runs. You stare through the display window, laughing to yourself. Wouldn't it be funny if Daichi was here? You let yourself into the shop. At this moment, you truly believe you hold the power to jinx yourself when it comes to Daichi. It’s the second time the universe loves seeing you suffer. He was there with his training jacket and shorts. Sweats were still visible on his sideburns. His coffee almost slipped from his grasp when he saw you, but what surprised him more - he saw you in the dress he bought. His heart felt a live pulse, a too-familiar feeling growing inside him.

“Hey y/n”

“Hey Sawamura”

“Fancy meeting you here”

“Yeah, I came here to pick up a new book from the old bookstore”

“Oh, nice. You’ve always been a reader”

An awkward chuckle escaped your lips. Oh, how you wished you had the power to fast-forward time. The tension between you could cut slice anything that comes into your space. Daichi chose to break the silence.

“Hey y/n, I know it’s a bit too early but are you free ton-. Sorry”

His ringtone caught his attention. He still used the old ringtone that you set for him. It made you soft and blushed a little. Daichi swayed his hands towards his back pocket, swiping through to pick up whoever’s calling. You swore you heard a small devil whisper inside you, wishing whoever called Daichi, their pinky gonna meet every corner they can get. Your heart almost stopped beating when you heard a woman's voice through the grills. Your gut feeling was proven more after you saw Daichi’s smile. You snapped back yourself back into the harsh and cruel reality. Enough is enough. You need to move on. Daichi already did it. What's stopping you?

While Daichi was busy answering his call, you took your coffee and went straight back home. Just as he hung up, he was greeted by your trailing dust. He missed his chance twice to have a proper conversation with you. Is fate trying to test him or is there something else that it wants to tell? Either way, he knows he shouldn’t give up, just as his feelings never did. Especially after the two unexpected meetings with you, he knows at least this - you haven’t yet rejected his existence near you. He cupped his face, gathering all ideas to have a longer, more open conversation with you, hoping you would still feel the same. He wished hard for a slight amber within your heart that he could reignite it and start anew, fresh new pages with you. He texted you as soon as he exited the shop, guessing by now you have his number unblocked.

next >

[rpd-rookie]

What Does The ‘S’ Stand For ? - Leon S. Kennedy x Reader

Summary: When you learn that Leon got the job you desperately wanted you decide to pay him a visit to congratulate him and finally put an end to the competition between the two of you in favour of some cooperation. Turns out, cooperation sometimes involve taking your clothes off.

Author’s Note: Some one-shot involving (pre) RE2 Remake Leon, a very sassy reader and some smut. I haven't written that genre in a while though. Hope I'm not too rusty. And by the way, if you notice some terrible grammatical mistakes please let me know (English is not my mother tongue). Anyway, I wish you'll like this story and as usual don't forget to like/reblog and tell me what you think about it.

Warning: SMUT and Language. You can also expect some humour and some fluff. 

Also available on AO3

Franklin D. Roosevelt once said, “Competition has been shown to be useful up to a certain point and no further, but cooperation, which is the thing we must strive for today, begins where competition leaves off.” Wise words. But clearly Roosevelt never had to compete with Kennedy, and by Kennedy you didn’t mean John F. Kennedy but another Kennedy, one with less charisma yet better hair (hell, got to render unto Caesar what’s Caesar’s), Leon S. Kennedy - ‘S’ probably standing for “sucker” or “saint” in your opinion. After all, the guy was such a goody two-shoes. Teacher’s favourite. Neat and tidy top student. Perfect arbiter of right and wrong. And certainly, the only guy in the academy who didn’t stick his cock in Barbara Johnson’s pussy. Weird since she also had a president’s name just like him. Could have been the perfect opportunity for a horizontal presidential debate.

If it wasn’t clear already, you didn’t like Kennedy very much. But it was not for the reasons mentioned above. No, you could tolerate the fact that he was the embodiment of virtue and morals. What you could not tolerate though, was that he was better than you at everything. At fundamentals, at crime prevention and analysis, at counterintelligence, at physical agility, at shooting, at… well, you get the point. It infuriated you. He infuriated you. You never had the chance to beat him. Never. He was always top of your class and you were always close second.           So of course, when you received the letter from the Raccoon City Police Department informing you that your application had been rejected and that the position had been given to someone else, you did the math.       Only Kennedy could have taken that job away from you. After all, you had heard him talking about Raccoon City at lunch break quite a few times in the past weeks and each time he had sounded so excited – well, as excited as cannibalistic murders can make you of course. Truth is, you had also shown interest in this city the moment its terrible crimes hit the first page of the newspapers alongside the Clinton-Lewinsky scandal, collecting every tiny article about it and telling your classmates what a thrilling experience it would be to work on that case. You had even imagined yourself wearing the blue uniform, RPD largely written on your chest, making a report about the rotting body of a camper found in the Arklay mountains.

You sighed, disappointment hitting you hard again. And with a hesitant hand, you knocked at the door in front of you somewhat ready to let go of the competition in favour of some cooperation. You barely waited a couple of seconds before Kennedy opened the door, a cordless telephone against his ear. He appeared genuinely surprised to see you there. “Call you back later, mom.” He said before hanging up the phone, still staring at you with astonished eyes. “Y/N.”   

“Telling your mommy about the amazing job you just got?” Your question had sounded more barbed and curter than indented. Bitterness probably. Leon sighed. He knew exactly what you meant. “Look, if it is about Raccoon City…” “Of course it is about Raccoon City. Why do you think I’m here? To discuss fashion?” You entered his bedsit without asking and looked around you. So well organized and tidy, so military. Pff. Where were the greasy pizza boxes, the nasty underwear on the floor and the bin filled with used tissues all the other guys usually had?      

You turned around to face him with a stone cold expression. “I’m guessing you knew I wanted that post.”           “Yeah but…” You cut him off. You couldn’t care less about the thing he wanted to say. “I don’t blame you. Had I been in your place I would have apply for it too. Damn, I even applied without being in your place, so … The point is, I wanted to congratulate you – even if it hurts me to do so – and tell you that I’m glad this competition between the two of us is finally coming to end.” Leon briefly chuckled and kept an amused smile on his face. This wasn’t the kind of words he had expected from you. “Well, thanks I guess.”       “You’re welcome” You dramatically put a hand over your heart “Gosh, it kills me to be so polite to you, Kennedy.” He retained a laugh and you approached him to slam a heavy blue binder against his - surprisingly strong - chest. Wow, muscles! “Take this.” You reluctantly said with a strangled voice as if you were a mother giving up her baby . “Take care of it. It’s the work of a lifetime … sort of.”

Leon furrowed his brows and opened the folder. Inside, there were all the articles you had collected about Raccoon City since the reveal of the incidents to the public eye plus some notes you had written during you personal late-night investigations. Leon skimmed through them. They were incredibly detailed and you could see how impressed he was. Damn, you wished you had your camera to immortalise this moment. “It won’t be of any use to me now. And it took me too much time to just throw it away so have it. Take it as parting gift.” “Wow, Y/N. I don’t know what to say.” He looked beyond happy. It made you smile. What the hell, Y/N?           “Thank you, maybe?” You swallowed you smile back before he could notice, choosing to replace what could have been something sweet and nice by sarcasm. “Yes, sure.” He grinned. “Thank you.” You nodded. “I don’t want you to have a heart attack so you’re not obliged to say ‘you’re welcome’.” He teased you and as much as you wanted to find the joke lame, you surprisingly found it rather funny.   “Good. Cause that would have been too much for my heart to take in a single day.” He smiled again and this time you couldn’t help but gaze. You were forced to acknowledge he was very cute, handsome even, certainly the kind of guy you would have willingly flirt with if it hadn’t been for the relentless competition between the two of you. “You know it’s nice to see you smile.” Your eyes slightly widened. You had been smiling the whole time? No! “That wasn’t a smile. That was a sneer.” You quickly replied, trying to prevent him from spotting the sudden panic in your eyes.   “Sure.” But yeah, that was definitely a smile and right now your cheeks were burning.

You cleared your throat and looked back upon his face, hoping yours had found back its usual seriousness and scorn. “Well, gotta go. Good riddance, Kennedy. Good luck and try not to screw up.” You proceeded to the door, glad this conversation was over, but Leon was not ready to let you leave just yet. “You know, for me, there was never a competition between us.” You stopped and turned around. “What?” You frowned. “Of course, there was a competition.” He shook his head. “Not for me.”   “Are you telling me that I have deprived myself of sleeping, fallen into coffee addiction and lost my entire social life for two years in the hope of finally beating you at a freaking test while you …” You could tell he was clearly trying not to laugh but his mocking grin was enough to make you blow a fuse. Well, a funny fuse … a funny desperate fuse “No! No!” You repeated, all irritated. “You’re kidding me!” He shrugged, playing all innocent. “Don’t fucking tell me you let me tilt at windmills!” He did. Bastard. Leon - Son of a bitch - Kennedy! That’s what the S stands for. You cursed in your head.           “I tried to tell you …” He started to explain to defend himself. “When?” You harrumphed, almost shouting at him. “Well, many times but …”           “Clearly not enough times.” Your sarcasm was back. “… each time you sent me packing” “I don’t do that.” You felt offended.         “I can’t barely make a full sentence with you!” You opened your mouth to retort but he stopped you by pointing a finger that undeniably meant ‘Careful what you’re going to say’. So you stood there, perfectly still, mouth opened, realising that he was probably right.             “You’re allowed to breath, you know.” He said as a response to your reaction but you didn’t know what to say anymore. Did you really spend all your time at the academy trying to win a non-existent competition? “Fuck.” You cursed, definitely dumbfounded.

Leon observed you, perplexed and wondering if you were going to stay rooted to the spot for the rest of the day. “Y/N” He waved in front of your face to pull you out from your thoughts but you barely noticed. “All that repressed sexual tension for nothing?” You asked yourself. Wait! Did you just say that out loud?           Panic-stricken, you looked up at Leon and judging by the way he was staring at you – all  ‘what the hell did she just say?’ – yep you did.       “You didn’t hear what I’ve just said.” You waved your hand past his face, like a Jedi would do in a Star Wars movie, knowing perfectly it wouldn’t work but hoping that ridicule would make the situation less awkward and give you a chance to run away from his room. It was a failure. “Yes, I did.”

And just like that, Leon Saint Sucker Son of a Bitch – whatever the S stood for - Kennedy caught your face in his hands and kissed you with a passion that made you gasp against him. You tried to resist for a second but then you decided to let go. After all, you had nothing to lose. The study years could be considered over and soon Leon would be in Raccoon City analysing amazing crimes while you would be God-knows-where writing parking tickets. You would never see each other again.     “Tell that to anyone, Kennedy and I’ll kick your gorgeous butt from here to Raccoon City.” You threatened, close to his mouth. “I won’t. Scout’s honour.” Leon Scout Kennedy? You shook your head (Stop being silly, Y/N!) before pushing Leon on the convertible sofa behind him.  

You straddled him without waiting, definitely willing to let your sudden eagerness and your repressed desire for him get the better of you. You met his lips in a new heated kiss, your body pressed against his, craving for lustful friction. And by the way Leon was holding you tight you could tell you weren’t the only one.             His tongue asked permission to enter your mouth and you happily granted it. Who would have thought that Leon Saint Kennedy was such a skilled kisser? Couldn’t he suck for once? Oh yeah, he could suck at your neck apparently. Damn.   A moan escaped your throat and you felt Leon smirk against your skin. “You like that?” He asked, proud of himself. You instinctively arched your neck asking for more, your hands weaving into his soft hair. “It’s not that bad.” You acknowledged and he suddenly bit you in the nape of your neck. “What the fuck?” You shouted, surprised. Leon laughed and you caught his face to kiss him and bite his lips in retaliation. But judging by the kinky smile on his angelic face, he didn’t seem to mind.             “You’re incorrigible.” You humoured. “Did I hurt you? I’m sorry.” He pecked your lips again and again and slowly began leaving a trail of light kissed down to your neck. “You’d better be. Aren’t you tired of making my life a misery?” You pretended to sulk as he kept on pressing his soft lips on your burning skin. You grabbed his chin, putting you thumb in his dimple and stared at him. How ridiculously hot he was right now with that arousal tinting his beautiful blue eyes and this dishevelled hair.  

“What do you have in mind, Y/N?” Rhetorical question. He knew exactly what you had in mind. Hell, it was basically the same thing he had in his.     “Stop playing coy and take your clothes off.” You whispered close to his face, your hot breath against his mouth, before pulling his bottom lip between your teeth “What about your silly competition?” He murmured back, his hands slowly falling along your sides.   “I’m all in for cooperation right now. So are you gonna give me a hand …” You started unbuckling his belt. “…or do I need to do everything by myself?” His eyes fixed upon yours mischievous ones, gazing at you with awe. You could tell he was completely at your mercy. “I’ll give you more than a hand.” You smirked and allowed your hands to unbutton his jeans. “I thought so.” He lifted his rear and you pulled down his jeans along with his boxers, biting your lips at the view of his beautiful cock. Jesus Christ Kennedy, Mother Nature certainly had been kind to you.

You stood up to undress yourself as well, dropping all your clothes to the floor, your eyes watching at Leon’s hastening hands fighting desperately with the buttons of his shirt. Clearly, you weren’t the only one that was impatient in this room, or horny.   You let him finish before taking your place back on his laps. His hard sex against your body, you slightly shivered, impatience eating you from within. “You’re gorgeous.” He said as he tucked few strands of your hair behind your ear. You couldn’t help but blush, not used to such compliments, and, as a consequence, in order to erase all sense of discomfort in you (if you could call it like that), you decided to focus your attention on his cock.   You brushed his length with your fingertips, admiring it with envy and lust, excited to do more with it. It made Leon hiss and you looked up at him. His eyes were pleading you. Without looking away from the blueness of his look, you caught his penis in your hand and started pumping it gently. Leon’s eyelids flickered; his head hit the back of the sofa and his mouth opened slightly. He seemed thankful, relieved even. You continued your gesture, watching him melting underneath you, listening to his now ragged breath with delight. God, that was sexy. He was sexy. Leon Sexy Kennedy. Suited him.

You bit your lips and decided to venture in between his legs, kneeling onto the floor. “What are you …” Leon complained when he suddenly stopped feeling you on top of him. You cut him short by guiding his cock to your mouth to softly kiss the pre cum-covered tip “Holy...” The rest of the sentence got stuck in his throat and turned into a growl as you eagerly sucked the head of his cock like a Popsicle. You smiled and licked his length, staring at how ecstatic he looked from this angle. “You like that?” You winked as you quoted him and he laughed. “Women.”   You engulfed his cock deep in your mouth and started bobbing your head. A new sigh of pleasure escaped his mouth and you felt him instantly relax on the couch. “God, you’re amazing.” You liked the compliment and to show your appreciation you decided to massage his balls as you kept on sucking him. You received a lustful grunt in response and soon Leon’s hand grabbed your hair to give you a quicker pace, almost making you gag on him. “Oh, sorry.“ What a gentleman! “That’s okay.” You smiled in a very naughty way. “I like it.” He chortled and you took back his dick in your mouth, welcoming it deeper to show him you didn’t mind some roughness. “You know, if you keep doing this I’m soon going to cum in your mouth.”             You stopped, licked your lips and crawled back onto his lap. “That would be a shame.” You joked sarcastically, hands back in his hair “Got a condom?”

The way you pronounced the words, all smiley and adorable, made him laugh again. He pushed you softly to open the drawer of his nightstand and find your one-way ticket for cloud nine. “There!” He announced excited as he showed you the contraceptive. “But first …” He suddenly grabbed your ankles to pull you towards him, making you slightly yelp in the process. “There’s something I got to do”   He lay down on the couch, spread your legs and immediately nestled his head right in between your thighs, making you instantly shiver. So, that’s what he got to do.   You sighed when you felt his breath against you swollen clit but it was only when his tongue met your pink flesh that you realised how aroused you truly were. You were so wet.           “Fuck, am I the one to blame for such a mess?” He joked but his mouth and tongue felt so good in between your thighs that you could only just moan and arch your back, begging for proper sucking and licking. He didn’t make you wait and gave you what you wanted as he started fondling your clit with his tongue. “Leon” That was the first time you where saying his first name and you got to admit, you liked the sound of it. “Yes, sweetheart?”   “Keep going, please.” You begged and he sucked on your bud, gazing at you melting under his touch as he did. You grasped his hair when he finally let a finger enter your core. Fuck, he was good. You moved your hips instinctively against him and he added a new finger. It sank into you as easily as the first one and you cried out, finding it impossible to be discreet anymore. “Fuck, Leon. I want you. I want you now.” You begged.   “Wait a second.” He asked, definitely loving your taste too much for him to stop just now. He pumped his fingers in your pussy, licking your juices greedily and you clenched your thighs around his head, feeling the imminence of your orgasm slowly yet surely approaching. “Now, Leon. Now! Please”

Leon obeyed this time and he quickly sat up and grabbed the condom he had left on the pillow next to him. He put the red wrapper between his teeth and tore it open. Then he rolled the condom down his length with both his hands. You watched him all the time, your fingers massaging your clit, finding him terribly arousing at this very moment.

Once ready, Leon bent over you to kiss you again and he tapped his hard cock on your hand to ask access to your humid entrance. You didn’t object of course and even spread your legs wider. Soon enough, you felt him slide in between your wet lips and then finally push slowly yet exquisitely inside of you. You closed your eyes as he did and drew a sharp breath once you felt him fully inside. You didn’t need time to adjust to him as if your body was meant for him. Guess Leon felt it too as he immediately took a quick pace and began pounding you. You let your hands wander on his smooth chest from his strong pectorals down to his divine abs and the chiselled V below his navel, finding him simply gorgeous. Then you grasped his hips, and nudge his rear with your ankles, pressing his pelvis closer to you to take him deeper, and started moaning his name again. His hands caught your bouncing breasts to play with your nipples, and you rapidly felt the strong wave of pleasure back in your core, ready to drown you. “Fuck, Leon!” His mouth met one of your teats and sucked on it with ardour. That was too much to handle. “I think I’m gonna cum.” You cried out.         “Yeah?” You nodded, letting a tear of pleasure escape your eyes. “Cum for me then.” He didn’t have to say it twice and few seconds later, you dug your nails in his hipbones and screamed loudly as you clenched around his cock, finally coming undone under his thrusts.

Stunned, breathless and at the same time a bit embarrassed that you had already reached your orgasm, you let Leon kiss you soft lips with a smile on his face. “See, you reached the finishing line before me.” He humoured.           “Fuck off.” You whispered, amused yet completely exhausted. He chuckled and pressed his lips against yours one more time before gently pushing you flat on your stomach. “I’m not done with you yet.” He whispered in your ear.  

You moaned loudly when he thrust back into your wet core, pinning you down on the mattress that you ultimately grabbed tightly in order to stay in place. He started pounding you again, holding you by the hips, taking delight in watching your sweet butt bouncing against him as he was burying himself deeper than he had ever done before. “Jesus, Y/N!” He growled before spanking you.         You gasped, astonished but in a good way. You had never thought he was that kind of guy. “Really, Kennedy? Spanking? That’s what the ‘S’ in your name stands for?” He laughed, still fucking you from behind. “I thought you would like it.” “Oh but I do. I just never thought it was your thing.”         “You should stop taking me for a saint, Y/N.” He wiped the sweat from his forehead, brushing the strand of hair covering his right eye away and focused again on his movements. “It’s not my fault. It’s your baby face.” You confessed in between two moans. He brutally stopped and you wondered for a second if what you had just said had actually vexed him.       “My baby face? Really?” He repeated in your ear with a smirk as he grabbed you by the hair. “Who’s been crying out my name the whole time?” Holy shit. You instinctively braced yourself and when he resumed his hammering you knew it was a smart decision. Leon started growling even more loudly as he slowed yet deepened his movements inside of you, his hand in your hair, using your body as leverage. He was almost aggressive but you moaned nevertheless, out of breath, feeling a new orgasm building inside of you. Really? You clenched around him, trying to hold your orgasm a bit longer, unwilling to give him the satisfaction to cum around him again.

When Leon’s hard pounding started to get sloppy you realised he was really close to his release. “Jesus, I’m almost there.” He admitted.         You don’t know how you found the strength to push him on his back but you did. Sitting on top of him, you removed the condom, threw it carelessly onto the floor and started to jerk him off. “I want you to cum on me.” You confessed. A guttural moan vibrated in his throat and he let himself sprawl on the mattress, leaving you in complete charge of his pleasure. You grinded against his cock as your hand kept on firmly going up and down his length. It drove Leon crazy and you soon felt him throbbing in your grip. His breath became even more ragged and jerky and small spasms took control of his body. You angled his cock towards you and soon, a hot load of thick cum spurted on your stomach and breasts as Leon cursed and grunted between his gritted teeth. “Fuck, Y/N!”

You smiled and let go of his member, proud and satisfied of your work, looking at poor panting Leon who had a beautiful yet exhausted smile on his face. “You killed me, woman.” He joked and you briefly laughed. Then, you wiped his cum off your body with your fingers and brought them to your mouth, sucking them eagerly and swallowing the white seed looking right in Leon’s eyes. You had the feeling he would find it very hot. “Jesus Christ” Bull’s eye!

He circled you with his strong arms and pulled you against his chest. His heart was beating wildly and you allowed yourself to huddle a bit more against him to enjoy the melody. Post-coital cuddling session? Not sure that was a good idea but you decided to go for it and so did Leon as he chose to burry his nose in your hair and kiss the top of your head.

“Scott” He whispered sleepily. You looked up, wondering what he meant. “That’s what the ‘S’ stands for. Leon Scott Kennedy.”

Scott? You repeated in your head with a soft smile. Oh well, that didn’t sound so bad even though, right now, you preferred Leon ‘Stay’ Kennedy.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

the webs we weave

For @jitsukawaa as requested for a Raffle prize!

Warnings: noncon/dubcon elements (oral, intercourse)

This is dark! (aged up) Peter Parker x Reader and explicit. 18+ only.

Summary: The reader is a journalist at The Bugle but she finds not all her co-workers are what they seem.

Note: This is a bit of a long one but I got a bit carried away. I tried to fit the request as much as I could. Anyway, hope y’all enjoy. Leave some feedback, like and reblog if you can <3

Another late night. Those were common as of late. Early mornings, too.

Given the content of your days, the stories, it was expected you’d be sleepless. A string of assaults across the city. All of them women. The perpetrator, according to the limited input of the police and the hesitant interviews of the victims; a man, masked, faceless. The descriptions varied, skewed by fear, by trauma. Neither you or the authorities had a concise picture of the suspect.

The first few incidents were reported by a senior report, Colin Rusk. But once the novelty ran dry, Editor-in-Chief Jameson, redirected Rusk to ‘more pressing’ stories and dropped the serial assaulter in your lap. 

You were new with little more under your belt than lifestyle articles and the occasional fluff piece on fleeting fads. Your inexperience made it difficult, if not impossible, to say no. And despite your resilience, your ongoing investigation, the cases would likely go cold and be shoved to the back of the paper until there was no room left for them. Your singular goal was to prevent that cynical end. Making your name as a reporter was secondary.

That morning, you raced down to the latest crime scene. A woman, blonde like most of the others, sat with her legs hanging out of a police car as she gave her statement. Visibly shaken and with bruises on her face, she was just the latest in a string. You’d not be permitted to speak with her until the police took her to the station and filed their report. For the time, you documented the scene as it was.

You were pulled back to your desk. It was almost as if you could still feel the dampness in your bones. It rained overnight and the streets had been slick and shiny in the afterglow. You pored over your notes, the little diagram you’d drawn of the alley way. The minimal details gleaned from the officers on sight. It was all so grim. And sadly familiar.

The attacker had a pattern; a demographic. Lone women, unsuspecting, vulnerable. Blonde, or light brunettes, small enough to be overpowered. You sighed and rubbed your eyes. There were thousands of women fitting that description in the city. Impossible to predict the perpetrator’s next move when it could happen anywhere.

You closed your eyes and leaned back. If the police couldn’t solve this, you surely couldn’t. But that didn’t mean you stopped. It didn’t mean you quieted the voices of the victims as so many others had. No, you kept going. Kept writing their stories down.

You were jolted as a folder slapped across your desk. Your eyes shot open and you looked up into the warm brown eyes before you. Peter mirrored your fright and gave a nervous smile. He pulled his hand away from the folder he’d just laid before you.

“Sorry, I thought you heard me,” He said. “I figured I’d give you a print of the photos I got this morning.”

“Really?” You reached for the folder and peeked inside at the glossy paper. “Thank you.”

“No problem.” He preened. “Jameson won’t want them anyway. Just the ones of the fire on the next block.”

You nodded and set the folder down with your notes. You ran into Peter by chance. He was passing by on his way to his own assignment. He stopped and snapped a few shots, made his usual awkward small talk, and moved along. He’d only been full-time at the Bugle for a year; before he’d been a freelancer throughout his schooling. He was a kid, even compared to you.

“Jameson doesn’t even want this,” You scoffed at your messy desk. “I swear, he’s just trying to force me out. I mean, I guess it’s better than writing about the mayor’s new wallpaper.”

“Jameson’s an idiot but you’re a good reporter. Besides, the Bugle is just your beginning. I know it.” He smiled. He was always so optimistic. It made you feel old.

“Easy for you to say,” You shook your head. “I’m almost thirty and just starting out. You’re still a kid and...Sorry, Peter. I’m just frustrated.”

“Hey, it’s okay. I might be young, but I know how you feel.” He leaned on your desk. “You know, everyone thinks I’m a kid and they just don’t take me seriously but I’m not, you know, a kid. Age is just a number, not a deadline.”

“Peter, I didn’t--”

“I know you didn’t mean it like that. You’re not one of them.” He shrugged and pushed himself straight. “Not like Rusk.”

“Rusk?” You wondered aloud. 

The man was stern, business-minded. A tenured writer. But you’d never had much issue with him yourself. In fact, he’d been most helpful in your early days at the Bugle. You might be picking up his scraps but it was far better than writing a tenth of a page on a dog show.

“Yeah,” Peter blinked at you. His smile changed, as if he knew something you didn’t. “Oh, alright.”

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“Peter.”

“Well, I...you’re not that naive, are you?” He asked.

“Am I? What do you mean?”

“Rusk never worked for his job, he’s the son of an old friend of Jameson’s. He came on full-time with top billing from the start.” Peter lowered his voice, cautious even though the office was empty.

“Oh, but...I mean, he’s still a good reporter.”

“Good but not entirely...professional.” Peter scoffed.

“Do I sense jealousy?” You teased.

“Me? Jealous of him? No.” Peter’s smile fell. “I’m doing just fine and the Bugle definitely isn’t it for me. I’m starting school next year and then one day, I’m out of here. I don’t wanna be a camera jockey forever.”

“I don’t know, this might be it for me.” You said. “A little late to be starting over a third time.”

“It’s never too late. Just don’t let yourself get sucked in by Rusk and his cronies.” Peter urged. “They’re no good.”

“Thanks, Peter.” You said lightly. 

“Really,” His face darkened. “I mean it. He has...a record in this office. With the women. And I’ve seen how helpful he is with you.”

“Peter, it’s not--”

“I know, I know, I’m young, clueless,” He raised his hands defensively. “I get it. Just...advice. You don’t have to take it but it’s there.”

You nodded and tapped your fingers on the folder. You thought for a moment on your work with Rusk; his insistence that you take over his story; the way he offered to proofread your back page drivel. Peter might be young, but he was smarter than his age belied. There was nothing wrong with being cautious.

“Thanks, Peter,” You flicked the corner of the folder as you looked up at him. “These will help a lot.”

“Really, it’s nothing.” His smile resumed. “Let me know if you ever need a lens. I’d be more than happy to help.”

“You’re too sweet.” You said.

“And you’re too humble.” He tucked his hands in his pockets. “And it’s late so...I’ll leave ya to it and see ya tomorrow, maybe?”

“Yeah, maybe,” You chimed. “See ya, Peter.”

“See ya.” He slowly backed away. “Oh, and let me know if Rusk gives ya any trouble.” He gave a comical flex. “I got your back, newbie.”

You laughed and he did too before he turned away entirely. You turned back to your desk and sighed. How was it that he made you feel young and old all at once? You shook off the cloudlike feeling and grabbed the folder. You’d go through the photos and call it a night. Hopefully, the morning wouldn’t bring a new victim.

🕷️

Your door was open. The chain was snapped and the lock busted in. Worse, you hadn’t even heard the disturbance. Hadn’t even sensed the intruder as you slept in the next room. A rude awakening as you got up and found the door ajar but your apartment otherwise undisturbed.

You called the police and waited in the hall. When they arrived, they asked you their usual questions, the same they asked the women you’d been documenting. Then they investigated you apartment. Nothing was out of place; nothing taken or moved. It was all very peculiar. Almost, the insinuated, as if nothing happened.

When they left, your landlord arrived. You stood by as he called the maintenance man and a locksmith. By the late afternoon, your door was repaired but your wits were fractured. Weeks spent tailing a monster had you paranoid. In your overwrought mind, you wondered if perhaps their attention had turned on you. It all felt too circumstantial. Too farfetched.

You locked yourself inside and submitted your write-up from home. You spent the night on the couch, sleepless, listening for any movement from the other side of the door. Nothing. Exhausted and nervous, you fixed your coffee and dressed. You set off for the day, though the sound of your lock sliding into place gave you no reassurance.

There was another assault. You spent five minutes at the office before you were back out on the street. This one happened only a block from your building. Was that another clue? A confirmation of your outlandish suspicions. You shrugged it off as you came upon the police tape; the scene all too familiar.

You went through your usual routine. Rebuffed by the police as you examined the sight for any clue. Listening to any morsel that slipped carelessly from officers and onlookers alike. You finished your notes and tucked them in your bag. You took one last look at the dumpster, the shadowy fire escape, and the cracked pavement. The image was burned in your mind. An omen of your new fear.

When you returned to the office, you were shaking. You didn’t realize it until you were sat at your desk with your bag in your lap, staring at a dead screen. The voices and typing all around you buzzed in your ears and you shuddered as you hugged you leather bag to your chest. The bright fluorescent bulbs burned your eyes and it felt as if they were watering.

“Hey,” You snapped your head up as Peter greeted you. His face was creased with concern. “You okay?”

“Ye-yeah,” You stuttered and let your bag slip to the floor. You kicked it under the desk and hit the power button of your computer. “Just...thinking.”

He didn’t look convinced. “I didn’t see you yesterday.”

“I...had to take a personal day.” You signed in and shuffled through the papers on your desk. “I’m here now, though.”

“Are you?” He asked. “You sure you’re okay?”

“Fine, just...it’s a heavy story, ya know? Starting to get old.” You bent down to reach into your bag blindly, awkwardly craning your head up above the desk as you fished around.

“Hey,” A voice had you sitting up quickly. Peter’s eyes narrowed as you turned to Rusk. He wore his usual striped button up and skinny tie. “You rushed out this morning. I didn’t get a chance to ask you how you were?”

“Hmm, I’m f-fine.” You stuttered. “Just fine.”

“Yeah? Heard about the break-in. Scary stuff.” He put his hands on his hips. “You need anything, to talk, an escort, let me know.”

“Really, I’m fine.” You insisted. You glanced between Rusk and Peter; the latter watched you closely. “It was nothing.”

“Well, just know, I’m here for you. Whatever you need.” Rusk winked before he turned away and you watched him stroll back to his office. 

You sighed and looked to Peter. His eyes were on Rusk’s door. You’d never seen him anything close to angry but he scowled dangerously after the writer.

“Break-in?” He said as his eyes drifted back to you. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I...I don’t even know how he found out,” You sniffed. “Really, the police didn’t even take it seriously. There was nothing stolen, they didn’t touch me. I don’t --they think it was a drunk or something.”

“It doesn’t matter. You should be safe.” Peter insisted. “Look, I don’t blame you for turning away his offer, guy’s kinda a skeez, but let me walk you home.”

“I take the subway.”

“Then let me ride with you.” He said. “I know I don’t look like much but it’s better than being alone.”

“Peter, you don’t have to--”

“I want to.” He asserted. “Just humour me.”

“Why?”

“Because...we’re friends, aren’t we?” He asked. “Haven’t got many of those around here.”

You considered him and leaned on the arm of your chair. “Yeah, we are, Peter.” You grabbed your mouse and looked to your screen. “I hope you don’t mind staying late.”

“I’m a night owl,” He assured you. “Have to be in this line of work.”

🕷️

Peter was true to his word and waited for you until well after office hours. You were quiet as he walked you to the station and sat with you on the train. He didn’t hide his glances over his shoulders and his fleeting eyes, as if he expected to catch your intruder then and there. It was almost endearing.

You were tired. You needed sleep and were ready to doze on the train. Peter nudged you awake at your stop and followed you out onto the platform. He let you lead him up the steps to the street and you stopped at the corner.

“I think I can handle it from here,” You said. “Building’s just across the street.”

“No, I insist. For my peace of mind, please.”

“Peter.”

“What’s a few more steps?” He prodded.

“What if I’m worried about you getting home?” You teased. 

“I don’t live far.” 

“Still. It’s late.” You chided. “You didn’t have to come all this way.”

“I did.” He said. “I’ve been out much later than this.”

“Ah yes, I forget. Youths.”

“I’m not much younger than you.” He insisted.

“Young enough.” You remarked. 

The street light glared in his eyes. For a moment, you were taken aback. The way the shadows cast his face. The innocent boy looked almost sinister.

“I’m an adult. I can take care of myself.” He said. “So let me walk you to your door.”

“Alright,” You relented. His tone was disconcerting. So unlike the carefree upstart. “Come on.” 

He walked with you across the street and you bit your lip. You could feel the tension rising off of him. Was he mad at you?

“Peter,” You turned to him just in front of your building. “I’m sorry if I--”

“Sorry?” He looked genuinely confused. “For what?”

“Uh, nothing.” You shook your head. “I’m tired. I thought--Thank you. Really, I feel a little better.”

“Not at all,” He smiled. “You good?”

“Yeah,” You replied. “Good night, Peter.”

“Night,” He said sweetly. “Just…” He hesitated before he could step away. “...remember that you’re not alone.”

“Yeah, thanks,” You nodded and took your keys from your pocket. “See ya.”

You listened to his light footsteps recede as you unlocked the front door. Inside, the elevator bore a staunch out of order sign. You grumbled and headed for the stairs. Ten floors up and you were out of breath and even more exhausted.

Your lock was still in place. That was slightly reassuring. Inside, it was dark and you didn't bother to flip the light. Too tired despite your paranoia. You dropped your bag as you neared the bedroom. There, you flipped the light switch and felt an unusual breeze across your front.

The window was open. The curtains stirred as the air washed in and your heart clutched. You rushed over and slammed down the window with a defeaning bang. You twisted the lock into place and turned back to the room.

Your top drawer hung precariously from your dresser. Your panties were messed, as if they'd been rifled through, and you felt the bile in your throat. 

You ran back into the front room and turned on all the lights. Nothing else had been touched. It all stood as you left it and no other sign of your intruder remained. Not a speck of dust out of place.

You searched high and low; in each closet, beneath the furniture, even behind the shower curtain. Nothing. You were alone, but you didn't feel it.

Should you call the police again? Let them laugh at your paranoia? As it was, you were certain they'd tossed away their last report. 

You went to the kitchen and grabbed a knife. You sat on the couch and pulled your knees to your chest. You hugged them as your eyes flitted nervously at each shadow. The knife shook against your leg as you counted the minutes until daylight.

🕷️

The morning saw you at the office, bleary-eyed and baffled. The night seemed a haze to you; dreamlike and distant. Before you was the final draft of your latest article on the city's terrorizer. The words were real, the events real, and the letters read bolder than before.

Your habit of spacing out at your desk once more had you jumping in your skin. Colin Rusk stood beside you. His grey-blue eyes peered down at you as he clicked a pen casually in his hand.

"You got a moment? Need to see you in my office." He asked but it wasn't a question.

"Sure," You stood and he reached past you. He leaned so close you could smell his cologne as he snatched the article off your desk. 

"I'll take this." He spun with the papers in hand and led you across the office. 

You glanced around as you walked between desks. Peter's brows were high on his forehead as he watched. He frowned and you turned away to follow Rusk into his office.

He closed the door after you. He waited for you to sit before he did. When he faced you, he was nonchalant. He dropped your article on his desk and smirked.

"You've done some good work." He said. "You should really be proud of yourself."

"Uh, thank you." You gripped the arms of the chair. Tired. Ready to keel over.

"Really. You're coverage is thorough and compelling. Riveting…" He huffed as he smiled piteously at you. "You're a good writer but this story isn't going anywhere."

"No…" You breathed weakly.

"Jameson wants it cut. Three months and no leads. Police are close-lipped as nuns."

You frowned. You couldn't help your disappointment.

"But I've got you a new assignment." He announced. "A grassroots movement in the ghetto. Silent protests. Real underground."

"Really?"

"As long as you don't mind sharing. It's kinda my story but I could use a hand." He offered. "That sound okay?"

"Y-yeah." You smiled. "I'd love--" 

His phone chirped and his brow arched. He grabbed it and checked the screen. He shook his head and slowly stood.

"Pardon me. Jameson." He waved his phone. "Right back."

He rounded his desk and passed you. You watched him go then sat awkwardly in his office wringing your hands. Your eyes bounced from corner to corner. Awards framed on the wall, a plaque on his desk, fancy pens and a leather folder. 

His bag sat on the table against the wall. Unzipped and on its side. Papers threatened to spill out and a shock of cornflower blue. You tilted your head at the familiar shade. 

You peeked over your shoulder. The door was open a crack but you saw no movement on the other side of the frosted glass. You stood and cautiously neared the table. You looked again. Nothing.

You lifted the bag to peer inside and ripped your hand away. It was as if you'd been bit. Those were yours, at least they looked like yours. You shook and heard footsteps near the door. You lifted your head and pretended to read the framed certificate on the wall as Rusk entered behind you.

"That was my first year here," He preened as he neared. "I'm sure you'll have one of your own soon enough."

"Uh, yeah," You stepped away from him slowly. "Um, can I... think about it?"

"Huh?" 

"Sharing the assignment."

"Sure. Only a day though. I, rather we, have a deadline," He reached out and pulled a string loose from your sweater. "That enough, sweetheart?"

You watched his hand a nodded. You bristled on the nickname and backed away. "Anyway, I'll let you get back to work." You sidled along to the door. "Thanks."

"No problem," He purred. "This could be it, you know? You're big break. Your name next to mine."

"Mhmm," You skirted out quickly and closed the door behind you.

Peter was at your desk. You didn't notice at first and stopped yourself from sitting in his lap. He watched you curiously. You held back a yawn and leaned against the desk.

"Peter." You crossed your arms.

"What was that about?" He asked.

"Just…my assignment got pulled."

"Oh?"

"But Rusk offered me a new one. Dunno if I should take it." You played with your mouse.

"Sorry, I'm in your seat." He made to stand.

"No, no, it's fine." You waved him off. "I don't really have anything pressing, do I?"

He considered you a moment as he swiveled in your chair. He stopped and sat up. "You okay?"

You blinked. After a moment, you nodded. You pushed yourself off the desk and rubbed your forehead. "I gotta use the restroom."

You walked away hurriedly and almost tripped over the loose laces of your heeled oxfords. You quickly hid yourself inside the restroom and tried to rein in your reeling nerves. You were crazy, you had to be. 

Rusk definitely hadn’t broken into your apartment. That was ludicrous. Maybe it was a pocket square or a random sock. It wasn’t your panties. That was just...creepy. You were just paranoid.

You couldn’t believe entirely in your own delusion but you had to push it aside. You had work to do, albeit not much. You breathed shakily and swallowed down your anxiety. Just be normal. Just relax. Act like it was nothing and it would be.

You pulled open the door. You almost crashed into Peter as you stepped into the small hall between the restrooms and the office. You caught yourself against the wall.

“Woah.” You squeaked.

“Sorry, I...just wanted to make sure you were alright.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m...just disappointed.”

He narrowed his eyes. He didn’t look so innocent anymore. He looked as if he could see right through you. “What is it?”

“It’s nothing.”

“I know you think I’m blind but I can tell when you’re upset.” He prodded. “I swear, mum’s the word.”

You sighed and looked out into the office. You turned back to him and pointed down the hall. You sidled along with him and lowered your head. Your stomach flurried wildly as you mustered the words. How could you say this? You’d sound crazy.

“I think you were right about Rusk,” You kept your voice soft. “He...He offered me to share an assignment but I don’t think he really cares about the story.”

Peter blinked. An exaggerated bat of his long lashes as he huffed. “I won’t say it.”

“I know, you told me so, but Peter…” You looked over your shoulder before you continued. “Peter, weird things have been happening. Last night, after you left, I went upstairs and...my window was wide open and...I don’t know. My dresser-- someone was there. Someone broke in again.”

“Did you call the cops?” He asked.

“No, I-I was embarrassed. I thought...when I called them the first time, they were laughing at me. They thought I broke the lock myself, I know it.”

“You should’ve called them.”

“Why? So they can mock me?” You caught yourself before you could raise your voice. ���Look, that doesn’t matter what matters is...I think it was Rusk. I mean, it’s stupid but, I think he has...something of mine. Something that would connect him to the break-ins.” You gulped. “The more I think of it, the more I think of how he passed this story off on me about all these attacks, I wonder…” 

“You don’t think it’s him?” Peter asked.

“Of course not. I just think, maybe, he...might have gotten an idea or two.”

Peter’s eyes were wide. He looked as frightened as you felt. “Can you confirm that what you saw, that what he has is really what you think it is?”

“I didn’t notice it missing but I didn’t really look. I was too scared.” You confessed.

Peter’s jaw set and his eyes darted down the hall. “I’ll walk you home again and we’ll see if you’re right.”

“You don’t have--”

“I do. Don’t you realize how dangerous this all is? How do you know you won’t walk in and catch him in the act? Or maybe he decides to visit while you’re home?” He gently touched your elbow. “You’re leaving on time tonight and I’m going with you.”

You scratched your head and looked away. You were embarrassed. You were being comforted, protected even, by this boy. Well, maybe you should drop the ruse. He was braver than most men you knew. And he was technically an adult and you really weren’t that much older. That became even more obvious when he was with you.

🕷️

The subway ride was long. Silent and tense. You fidgeted beside Peter, embarrassed and reassured by his presence all at once. He sent you small glances; stifled smiles meant to calm you. But they only served to remind you of why he was there.

Up the concrete steps and across the rush hour street, you had to stop at the front door of your building to catch your breath. Your chest felt as if it was being crushed.

Peter patted your shoulder and said softly, “It’s okay,” and you carried on.

Your apartment door still bore signs of the previous break in. The new lock was shiny against the flaked paint and torn wood. You slid your key in and turned. You opened it slowly as you peeked inside, certain you’d find your tormentor within. Nothing.

Peter followed you in and chained the door behind him as if to assuage you. You looked away ashamed. “I’m crazy, aren’t I?”

“No.” He said. “I don’t think so. Just scared, and why wouldn’t you be?”

You nodded and turned away from him. Warily you walked across the front room and glanced around. Nothing seemed out of place. Peter followed closely as you neared the short hall that led to your bedroom. You spun back to him. 

“I’ll go see if--if I was right.” You stopped him. “Wait here.”

“Wait here? Shouldn’t I--”

“I’ll scream if I need you.” You replied. “Okay?”

“Of course,” He relented. “I’ll be here.”

You left him there, a concerned furrow in his brow. You entered the bedroom, the dresser drawer was still open but the window was locked and in place. The sight reassured you. You slowly walked across the room and stopped before the drawer. 

You sifted through the messy contents, your hands growing frantic as the cornflower panties were nowhere to be found. Next you checked the hamper, maybe you’d worn them that week. They weren’t there.

You stumbled back out to the hall numbly. You felt hollow and worn. You caught yourself on the wall before your legs could give out.

Peter was by the coffee table. You watched as he reached for the knife you’d left there and he lifted it to the dim light peeking in through the windows. He turned to you with a question curled in his lips.

“It’s not there...he took it.” You pushed yourself straight and stepped fully into the room. “I can’t believe--It can’t be, Peter.”

“But you do believe,” He said and he turned the knife in his fingers. “You must. I mean--” He gestured to the blade. “You wouldn’t be so scared if you didn’t believe.”

“Should I call the cops now?”

“You could but...You’ve corrupted the scene, right? It’s been what? A day?” He set down the knife and sighed.

“So what do I do? I--Jesus, why am I asking you? You shouldn’t be dealing with all this.”

“I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t want to deal with it.” He assured you as he neared you. “There’s only one thing you can do. You have to wait for him to try again.”

“What?” You reeled. “What if--”

“With me.” He gently reached out and took your hand. He squeezed it as he spoke. “You can’t stay here. Not alone. So either you come stay with me or I’m staying here, but I can’t let you be alone.”

“Peter, you’re too nice. You shouldn’t--”

“But I am, so I’m either going to settle in or you’re going to pack a bag.” His grip tightened on your hand before he released you suddenly, as if recalling that he was touching you.

“It’s too much.” 

“Anyone would do it. Anyone who cared.” He shrugged. “So what’s it gonna be?”

“I can’t sleep here.” You said.

“Alright,” His jaw set determinedly. “So, grab a change of clothes and let’s go.”

You nodded shyly and let your leather shoulder bag fall to your elbow. Your lips parted to ask if he was sure and he tilted his head sternly.

“Come on,” He intoned. “I’m hungry. Once we’re outta here we can grab something.”

“O-okay,” You gave a weak smile and he mirrored it.

You turned away and dragged your feet back to the bedroom. Every time you entered, you were reminded of the open window, the ghastly breeze, and the stab of fear deep in your gut. You went to your dresser and blindly grabbed for a set of clothes to shove in your shoulder bag. A night away from this place would be good; safe.

🕷️

Peter’s apartment was small but cozy. Lived in but neat. It was almost endearing. The Playstation controller on the coffee table, the throw still curled in the shape of his body on the couch, posters of his favourite comics on the walls. He apologized for the mess but you assured him, you seen worse from men older than him.

He was courteous. He took your bag and led you to the bedroom. He insisted on taking the couch. He dug out his second set of sheets from his closet and placed the piled neatly atop with a promise to fix up the bed after you ate. He didn’t listen to your protests, merely brushed you back through to the living room.

You sat beside him on the couch. You felt welcome but uneasy. You always found it awkward to be in anothers space. Peter pulled out his phone and tapped the screen with his thumb.

“Sorry, I’m not much of a cook.” He chuckled. “You like pizza? Chinese?”

“I’m not picky,” You replied.

“Easy to please?” He ventured playfully.

“In certain ways,” You squinted at him. “How about Mexican?”

“Sure,” He scrolled on the screen and turned the phone to you. “Here. Pick something.”

You took his phone and browsed the menu. You realized you hadn’t eaten since the day before; nothing more than your usual morning coffee. Your stomach growled and you restrained yourself to a vegetarian dish. Overdo it and you’d wake up in agony. Thirty loomed closer every day.

You handed his phone back and he quickly picked his own dish and hit confirm. You rubbed your hands together nervously. You looked around his small apartment. It reminded you of college; of the useless degree hidden in the back of your closet.

“I’ll send you the money.” You offered.

“You won’t. My treat.” He insisted.

“But...you’ve already done so much.”

“What’s a couple bucks?” He shrugged. “So, you like video games? I got a second controller around here somewhere.”

“Does Tetris count?” You teased.

“I have Tetris,” He smirked. 

“I was kidding.” You took the controller from him as he handed it to you. “But no, I don’t play very much.”

“That’s okay.” He grabbed his own controller and switched on the t.v.  “I’ll take it easy on you.”

“Oh yeah?” You challenged. “You wouldn’t be talking shit if we were playing Tetris.”

“We’ll see who’s talking shit at the end of the night.” He jibed as he sat beside you. 

You shook your head and laughed at him. You could almost forget that he was the upstart kid with his oversized camera. Or the break-ins. Or that you were here hiding. The fear seemed to dissipate when faced with his perennial optimism.

🕷️

After you ate, you found yourself even more tired than before. You didn’t recall dozing but Peter woke you with a nudge and helped you up. He showed you to the bedroom where he’d made up the bed for you. You thanked him groggily, your fatigue catching up to you, and he left you with lingering good night.

When the door closed, you grabbed your bag and clumsily pulled out the loose tee and pair of booty shorts. You changed and draped your worn clothes over the bag and shoved it aside. You got up to turn off the light and stumbled back to the mattress, landing stomach first across it. You hugged the pillow as sleep beckoned you forth.

It hit you all once. You slept so deeply your head felt full of sand. Your body too. Your mind was murky. Shadows rose from the depths but never fully formed. You forgot your existence, the open window, the missing panties, and Rusk’s open bag. Hours passed like seconds and eternity felt possible.

You awoke to fingertips on your cheek. Gentle as they coaxed you back to the surface. As you emerged from the depths, your chest clutched. Your eyes fluttered open, your lids heavy and lashes sharp. There was a dim light in the room, soft and eerie. A shadow laid beside you, its fingers traced the line of your jaw as it watched you awake.

Your vision cleared a little at a time. You recognized Peter through the haze. His warm brown eyes were dilated and dark. You reached up and caught his hand as he pressed his body against yours.

“What are you doing?” Your tongue was thick and your words awkward.

“Shh, it’s okay,” He pulled his hand away and dragged his fingers over your lips as he leaned in to smell your hair. 

“P-Peter,” You grabbed for his wrist. “Stop.”

Your hand missed his and hit his shoulder instead. You shoved against him but he didn’t flinch. He was stronger than he looked. You tried to sit up but he caught your neck and held you to the pillow.

How long had you been asleep? How long had he been there?

“Peter, please,” You reached for his hand as it stretched across your throat. “What--”

“I won’t hurt you. I only want to keep you safe.” His breath was hot against your cheek as his lips brushed your skin. “Don’t you want to be safe?”

“Let me go, Peter,” You squeezed his wrist. “Please, you’re scaring me.”

“I’m scaring you?” His hand didn’t move but he pulled back to look you in the eye. “I’m protecting you.”

Your hand trembled as you pleaded again. His name died in the air.

“From the city.” He breathed. “From Rusk.”

“You-you are,” You rasped. “You’ve kept me safe, but...this...don’t you want me to feel safe. This isn’t--”

“You can’t see it. You aren’t safe. This city is dangerous and you need me.”

“I do need you, okay?” You bartered. “Of course I do, Peter, but...I need sleep, too. I’m very tired.”

“You don’t have to be afraid of me.” He shifted closer and your body tensed. “I’ll take care of you.”

“Peter--”

“Let me take care of you.” He moved lithely over you as he pulled your hand from his. He framed your face with his fingers and held your head in place. “Why won’t you let me take care of you?”

“Peter,” You exclaimed as the tears threatened to rise. This felt like some horrid nightmare. “W-We’re fr-friend, aren’t we? Friends don’t do this.”

He blinked. He glared at you and his face slowly softened. “Friends...no, we’re more than that.”

“Wh-what?”

“You’re mine. We’re meant to be. Can’t you see that?” His thumbs ran along your cheeks as his breath glossed over your lips. “In a city this big, to be brought together, it’s fate.”

You stared at him. Stunned, horrified. You didn’t know what to say.

“I’m not like him.” He hissed as his eyes turned dark. He focused on your lips hungrily. “I won’t use you, like him. Manipulate you.” You gulped as his lips hovered just above yours. “Violate you. Invade your space...steal from you.” 

He pressed his mouth to yours and you squirmed beneath him. Your hands were caught under him. His torso was bare and the heat of his body shrouded you. You struggled to breathe as he kissed your forcefully, as he crushed himself against you. You felt his arousal as it poked you and your eyes rounded desperately.

He pulled away at last. His lips made a trail along your cheeks as he spoke between little pecks. “Can’t you see how much better I am than him? Than anyone?” 

You wriggled under him but it only seemed to encourage him. You slipped your arms from beneath him and pushed against his sides. He drew his hands away from your face and caught your wrists. He pulled them up beside your head and pushed himself up as he pinned them to the mattress.

“Who does that, hmm? I’m better than him. I’d never...take your panties like some pervert. I’d never--”

“Panties?” You croaked and his eyes flashed. “How do you--Peter?”

“He’s just a pervert, don’t you understand? But I love you. I love all of you. I want all of you.” 

He squeezed your wrists and you watched the muscles of his arms draw taut. His chest was broader than you imagined and his torso was finely lined. You stopped your eyes before they could venture further. He was naked.

“If you love me, Peter, you’ll wait. Wait for me, won’t you?” You cooed. 

“Wait? I’ve waited.” He sneered. “I’ve watched you fawn after Rusk and I’m done waiting.”

“Peter, I don’t care about Rusk, I swear, but I’m not ready. I’m tired. I need... sleep. Can’t you wait for me…” You stared up into his dark eyes. “I-I--” Your nerves flurried wildly. You’d never been so afraid. “I love you, too.” You lied. “So won’t you wait?”

He exhaled and his lips parted. He blinked and a smile crawled across his lips. “You--Say it again.”

“I-I love you,” You whispered. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” 

He bent and kissed you again. This time harder, deeper. He didn’t stop until you were out of breath. Until your eyes were damp with tears. He sat back and straddled you between his thick thighs. You quickly looked away from his hard cock. He let go of your wrists but you didn’t move. You were too afraid.

He lifted himself slightly as he tugged the hem of your shirt free. He inched it up, his fingers feeling along your skin as he did. Your strength returned and you caught his hands before he could bare your chest. You were shaking.

“I want to wait, Peter.” You begged. “Don’t you love me?”

“I do, I do,” He rocked atop you, almost frantic. “I do but I can’t. I can’t wait. I need you. I love you so much.”

You whimpered as he twisted his hands away from you. His thighs pressed against you and reminded you of his strength. You closed your eyes as your arms fell to the mattress. You were so weak. So afraid. And you could do nothing.

He shoved your shirt over your chest and you heard the gasp fall from him. He pulled the fabric past your head and tossed it aside. He bent over you as he cupped your tits, his thumb circled your nipples. “Beautiful,” He groaned as nuzzled your skin. 

His lips tickled along your cleave and the curve of your chest. His tongue teased your bud as his fingers played with the other. He closed his mouth around your nipple and teethed it softly. He purred and you bit your lip. 

His touch stoked something within you. It wasn’t him, just the basest of your instincts. A carnal reaction long withheld. 

He kneaded your flesh with hand and mouth. He tended to you as if you were delicate and yet so firmly you could not resist. You couldn’t think to. Was it fear? Was it weakness? Was it a latent desire you refused to accept?

Then he moved lower. His lips and teeth made the treacherous crawl along your stomach. The dread built as he moved further and further, as he lifted himself from your waist and his fingers tickled you. As he slid your shorts down your thighs and legs. As you let him.

You still didn’t move. You pressed your legs together but he easily wrenched them apart. Another confirmation of your helplessness.

His nose brushed along your vee and his warm breath crested your pelvis. His hands slipped up and he pressed his thumbs to your hip bones as he settled between your legs. You closed your legs around his head in an effort to keep him away but you only welcomed him closer. You looked down at him, eyes sparkling as he gazed back. Then slowly his focus descended.

He dipped his head and you writhed. Tried to get away but it was just as futile. He rubbed the tip of his nose along your pussy and his tongue followed shyly. He dragged it slowly along your lips then back down. He pushed between them and flicked over your clit. 

You spasmed and his hands squeezed your hips. He repeated the motion and you cried out in surprise. His tongue was cool against your warm folds. It felt good even when your head told you it shouldn’t. He swirled around your bud and pressed his lips around it. He sucked and lapped then slipped his tongue down again. He drank you in and savoured your taste.

You covered your face as your other hand clawed at the blanket below. You whined, weak and wretched. You felt the rise. The ripple as it rolled along your spine. The buzzing in your thighs. The pulsing of your core. Every nerve wound together and his tongue untangled them all at once.

You rocked your pelvis into his face as you came. Wanting him to stop but not. You needed more. The release was overwhelming and left you dizzy. And he kept on. He teased your overly sensitive clit so that you squirmed. Until another climax rose and you bit into your hand to keep from screaming. And still he kept on.

You were breathless and baffled when he finally lifted his head. Your sight was blurry as you shyly looked down at him. His lips glistened as they came into focus and he crawled over you. He kissed you; wet and warm. You could taste your sweetness as he forced his tongue against yours. 

He snaked his arms up under your back and hooked his hands around your shoulders. He pushed his thighs to yours as he lifted you. He sat up with you against him. You hung from his grasp as his lips wrestled with yours. He kept you aloft with one arm as he felt around between you.

You flinched as you felt his tip against you. He grazed your clit and you twitched. He pressed along your folds and stopped at your entrance. He pulled away from your lips and looked into your eyes as he pushed his head inside of you. You grabbed his shoulders and tired to shove yourself away from him. His arm clung to you tightly.

He eased into you until he bottomed out. He sighed and his hand grasped your hip. He began to rock you against him, his own pelvis tilting with yours. He hummed and kissed your jaw, nibbled along your neck, and bit into the flesh of your throat. He sucked as he moved you against him. And you were horrified as you let him.

He felt good. He shouldn’t, but he did. You slung your arms over his shoulders without thinking and chased the peak before you. He moved you faster, harder against him. You felt your juices spreading between your bodies. His hand slid down your back and he stretched his fingers across your ass. He guided your body and you followed his lead.

You were panting, desperate for another orgasm. Your clit rubbed against him with each rock of your hips. With each thrust, you moved faster, eager to reach the pinnacle. You gasped and groaned. A voice told you it was wrong but it didn’t feel wrong. 

Peter buried his head in your chest. He hummed as he took a nipple in his mouth and bounced you against him. Your fingers dug into the muscles of his back and you threw your head back. You came with a sharp cry. Your body shook against his and the world dissembled. The worries in the back of your mind drowned beneath the waves.

He fell forward until your back was to the mattress. He thrust into you as your legs curled around him. His hand was at your chin again, cradling your face as he lifted his lips to yours. He kissed you, consumed you. 

He moaned into your mouth and his hips stammered. His motion turned erratic and he lifted his head to grit back a roar. The tension squared his jaw and drained from him all at once. He sank into you as deep as he could go, long soft strokes as he came. 

He dropped down over you, his head beside yours as he panted. He shuddered and groaned. His body went limp atop you, his fingers lazily caressed your cheek. The glow sloughed away and the room grew darker. The lines were bolder, the shadows more sinister, the colours greyed. 

You pulled your arms back and pushed on his shoulder. He didn’t move. Didn’t even react. You tried again and slowly he lifted his head. He pushed himself into you as deep as he could go and you whimpered.

“Can’t you feel how much I love you?” He didn’t relent. Didn’t pull back as your walls strained around him. “Can’t you?”

You nodded, unable to speak. He was stabbing your cervix painfully and you just wanted him away from you.

“I can feel your love.” He thrust and poked you again. You squeaked. “You love me.” He began to move steadily. “You love me.” He repeated with each tilt of his hips. “You love me.” You closed your eyes as the mantra filled the room. “You love me.”

“I love you,” You croaked through your tears. “I love you.” 

But he didn’t stop. He wouldn’t. 

You were trapped in the spider’s web. Live prey paralysed as he wrapped his legs around you. As he devoured you entirely.

🕷️ 🕷️ 🕷️