#the brakes were just barely working enough to let me stop safely

[paintingpuff]

happy Make a Terrible Comic Day here's my contribution

[criminally-chill]

Every second together

Pairing: Emily Prentiss x reader

Category: angst

AN: sorry this had been in my head for a long time and I needed to get it out.

The sound of sirens faded into the background as the bomb squad’s van pulled into the cordoned-off alleyway, brakes screeching against the pavement. Agent Y/L’s stomach twisted with an urgency she rarely felt on the job. This was personal. She leaped out of the van before it even came to a complete stop, her team calling after her, but she couldn’t hear them over the pounding of her own heart.

Ahead, in the dimly lit alley, sat Emily Prentiss, her wife, bound to a pipe with a bomb strapped to her chest. The night’s chill clung to the air, but a bead of sweat traced down Emily’s temple. Her expression was calm but determined, the same unbreakable spirit Y/N had fallen in love with. She gave a tiny nod as Y/N approached, her dark eyes meeting Y/N’s with that familiar intensity.

Y/N fought to keep her voice steady. “Emily…”

Emily’s lips curved into a faint, bittersweet smile. “Hey. Took you long enough.”

“I came as fast as I could,” Y/N replied, kneeling down next to her, scanning the device strapped to Emily’s chest. Her trained eye took in every detail, every wire, every flashing light. Whoever had rigged this bomb had been thorough. Ruthless.

Emily’s face softened as she watched Y/N. “Y/N, if… if anything happens, I just want you to know—”

“No.” Y/N shook her head sharply, setting her bag of tools down and snapping on gloves. “We’re not doing goodbyes, Emily.”

“But—”

“No. Just... let me work.” Her voice was harsher than she intended, but Y/N couldn’t let Emily go there, couldn’t let her talk as though this would end any other way than safely. It was too much. She wasn’t losing her wife. Not today, not like this.

Emily’s eyes lingered on Y/N’s face, and she fell silent, giving a small nod. Y/N took a deep breath, her fingers tracing over the wires. The bomb was sophisticated, too sophisticated — a complex web of wires with dual failsafes, likely designed to thwart anyone who tried to disarm it. Whoever set this up knew exactly what they were doing, which meant this was no random act. Someone was targeting Emily.

Y/N’s pulse quickened as she identified the main trigger wire. Cutting it would disable the primary detonation mechanism, but it wouldn’t be enough on its own. A secondary wire, a bright yellow one tucked carefully behind the others, acted as a backup trigger. Her hands hovered over the wires, every nerve on edge.

Emily’s voice was barely a whisper. “Y/N, I… I’m sorry. For putting you in this position. For making you have to… do this.”

Y/N stopped, her eyes flashing with an anger born of fear and love intertwined. “Emily, don’t. Don’t apologize. And don’t you dare start acting like this is it.” She looked at her wife, fierce determination set in her gaze. “I told you, I never wanted to meet you at work like this. And I refuse to let it end here.”

Emily’s eyes glistened, her steely demeanor slipping just for a second. “If anyone can do this… it’s you.”

Y/N swallowed hard, her fingers moving quickly as she traced each wire’s connection, memorizing the intricate network before her. She forced herself to push down the overwhelming fear. Focus. She was trained for this — her entire career had been spent facing down moments exactly like this one. But none of that training had prepared her for what it would feel like to disarm a bomb on her own wife.

The timer on the bomb continued its relentless countdown, the red digits flashing. Four minutes. The device beeped steadily, each second a reminder of how close she was to losing everything.

“Y/N…” Emily’s voice broke the silence again, softer this time, almost pleading. “If… if this doesn’t work, I just want you to know that you are the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

“Stop,” Y/N choked out, feeling her composure waver as she fought to hold back the tears threatening to blur her vision. “You don’t get to say that, not now. Not when I’m still getting you out of this.”

Emily reached out, her fingers brushing against Y/N’s hand. “Just in case, alright? I don’t want you to regret not hearing it.”

Y/N’s breath caught, the touch grounding her for a moment. “There’s nothing you could say that I don’t already know, Emily. I know you love me. I know you’re proud of me. And I know that, no matter what, you’re not giving up.”

“Not as long as you’re here,” Emily whispered back.

Y/N gave her a quick, shaky smile. “Exactly.”

Her focus returned to the bomb, mind racing as she tried to assess the safest way forward. She reached for her tools, fingers steady as she went for the main wire. The risk of tripping the backup was high, but if she didn’t disable the primary trigger, they wouldn’t have a chance. She glanced at the timer — two minutes.

Her heart hammered as she moved closer to the red wire, breathing shallowly to keep her hand steady. She snipped the red wire, and her heart skipped a beat as the countdown paused — only for a split second — before it resumed, the clock’s beeping speeding up, the timer dropping down to less than a minute.

Emily’s breath hitched, but she stayed steady, her eyes locked on Y/N. “You can do this.”

Y/N forced herself to stay calm, fingers moving to the yellow wire, the one that would dismantle the failsafe. She hesitated for a fraction of a second, knowing that this cut would be the difference between saving Emily and triggering the bomb. Every nerve was alive, every instinct screaming at her, demanding she make the right move.

“Thirty seconds,” Emily whispered, her voice low, eyes meeting Y/N’s in silent trust.

Y/N took one final, steadying breath, her fingers poised. She glanced up, her heart heavy but filled with the fierce determination that had brought her to this moment.

“Whatever happens, Emily…” she murmured, her voice barely a whisper, “I love you.”

Emily’s eyes filled with tears, a soft, almost accepting smile crossing her face. “I love you, too.”

The bomb’s timer continued its countdown, seconds ticking by as Y/N’s hands moved with precision, her focus unbroken. Ten seconds. Nine. Eight. The clock beeped faster, each second a heartbeat, racing and desperate.

Three seconds. Two. One.

And then…

[samgirl98]

Cain and Abel Wept 3/?

Prev | Next

They used to have a plan.

Get as close as possible to the East Coast. From there, one of Vlad’s people was going to help them smuggle out of the country.

(The Anti-ecto laws only existed in the United States and Canada.)

Tucker would then help them set up new identities somewhere in Europe and send over all the Fenton’s notes on the portal in an encrypted message. Sam, Tucker, and Vlad would help find ways to get the Anti-ecto laws repealed, and the Fenton’s would have a new portal and identities so Danny could better rule the Infinite Realms.

(Danny still couldn’t make portals, and he didn’t want to risk one of his subjects being captured.)

How did it all go downhill so quickly, Maddie thought to herself.

She drove the GAV with Jack at her side, uncharacteristically silent and still.  In front of them was the Batmobile. They were flanked by two motorcycles, one ridden by Nightwing, the other by Red Hood. Behind them, there was a purple minivan.

The steering wheel of the GAV creaked at Maddie’s hold. She was stressed, scared, and worse, and her children were in danger.

“It’ll be fine, Maddie; we’ll figure it out. I’d rather die than let anything happen to my family.”

“No! No one’s gonna die!”

Maddie took a quick look at her son. Her baby boy.

(The one she had accidentally killed with her obsession.)

Jazz put her arms around her brother’s shoulder.

“That’s right; we fight together. As a family, Daniel. No more going off on your own.”

Danny crossed his arms and grumbled under his breath.

“This is all my fault,” her baby boy whispered.

Maddie would’ve braked right there and then if it weren’t for the vehicles in front and behind them.

“Daniel James Fenton, none of this, and I mean none of it, is your fault!”

If anything, it was hers; what kind of mother didn’t notice her son had died?

(What kind of mother didn’t notice she was hunting her baby?)

“Then who’s fault is it,” Danny asked in a tiny voice.

Maddie tightened her hold on the steering wheel.

____

Jack watched as the ghost boy went down.

Usually, he and Maddie would be shooting at the menace, but at the moment, the town was being besieged by a powerful ghost that didn’t seem fazed by any of the Fenton Work’s weaponry. So, they were once again reliant on the ghost boy.

Right now, their only hope to have the town saved had just been shot straight through the chest by a powerful ectoblast.

(The Justice League had ignored them again.)

Maddie and Jack got to the scene in time to see the ghost boy give a powerful scream that had the other ghost weakened enough for the boy to put it in one of the Fenton thermos. The boy panted and could barely stand from his exhaustion.

Jack went up about to help the boy (ghost or not, this one wasn’t too bad, and he had the habit of helping the town. Even if it was an obsession.) when a bright, white, blinding light engulfed the ghost.

Once black spots stopped dancing in front of his vision, Jack gasped at the sight before him.

Danny, his son, was bloodied and bruised, barely holding his chest together.

“Mom, dad, it’s me; please don’t tear me apart….”

Danny fainted. Jack barely caught his son in his arms.

____

Jack entered the ‘safe house’ first. He would be damned before he let his family enter some unknown area before him.

(Jack could still see his son’s heart beating as they tried to stitch him together.)

He refused to let any more harm come to Danny and his loved ones.  

The safe house turned out to be a two-story house right before entering Bristol. The place was barren except for some furniture. No personal artifacts, no pictures, and dust particles danced in the air.  

Jazz sneezed as she entered the living room.

The vigilantes of Gotham City followed them.

“You can sit,” Batman (Bruce Wayne) said.

Nobody in the Fenton family moved a muscle.

The Fenton’s stayed at the opening of the living room, closer to the exit. The Bat clan went deeper in, putting some distance between them. Seven dangerous and armed vigilantes stood before his small family.

Jack didn’t think he’d be able to beat one of them, let alone all seven.

“Now what,” Danny asked, “Are you here to kill us, arrest us?”

Robin, (his son’s younger brother; he had a younger brother) whimpered, “No, Danyal, we won’t kill you or hurt you in any way.”

“It’s Danny,” he snapped, “What else are we supposed to think when Gotham’s furry militia decides to ambush us?”

Danny glared at the vigilantes, his eyes shining ectoplasm green.

“Dann-o, you need to calm down,” Jack got in front of his son. He didn’t want Batman to get more proof than he already had that his son was part ghost.

(Why did they ever write those papers? They were what the GIW used to make those Anti-ecto Laws!)

“I don’t know why you believe I would arrest you, let alone kill you,” Batman said slowly, “But I won’t. I promise. Even if you weren’t—even if you weren’t my son, I wouldn’t hurt you or your family.”

“I don’t understand why you believe we want to arrest you. It makes no sense; you’re not fugitives, and, as far as I can tell, you haven’t committed any crimes.”

Danny snorted, “Yeah, right, no crimes. Except for existing.”

Red Hood stepped forward; Jack stepped back, forcing his family further away from the helmet-wearing man, “What do you mean? Metas are protected under the law.”

Danny looked straight at Red Hood, “I’m not a meta; I’m dead.”

His eyes were glowing even brighter, lighting up the room.

Every other person in the room stilled as a chill entered the room.

____

“I’m sorry for not telling you sooner,” Danny sobbed into his mother’s arms, “I was—well….”

“You were scared,” Jack whispered.

And why wouldn’t he be?

‘Molecule by molecule,’ they would say at breakfast, ‘all ghosts are evil,’ they would proclaim loudly through the lab.

Jack had killed his son, and then, after his death, he had hunted him like an animal.

Danny let go of the hug and wiped his tears, “It’s my fault. If I hadn’t fought Pariah alone, I would never have been king. But I didn’t know! I promise, I didn’t know beating him would give me the throne.”

“All these powerful ghosts are now coming through, challenging me for the crown. A crown I didn’t even want! And I’m putting the whole town in danger!”

Jack didn’t know what to say.

“It’s my fault,” his son whispered before falling to his knees.

“No, Danny, it’s not,” Jack reassured his son while rocking Danny and his wife in his big arms.

(If only those arms had been strong enough to protect his family.)

@spectralstardustandphantomnights @avelnfear @idfk-man10 @blackroserelina @candeartist422 @luer-mirin @mur-ururu @insufferablecrab @skulld3mort-1fan @meira-3919 @aethernorwood @mimilikey @marshmelloe @latheevening226 @ahyesanerd @lexdamo

Sorry for the backstory, but I needed to get out of the way about how the Fentons found out. I'm not too proud of it, but it's the best I could figure out how to write the drama without making it too exposition-y

[mypoisonedvine]

Seeing Red | bodyguard!Bucky Barnes x actress!reader (part 6)

(part 1) (part 2) (part 3) (part 4) (part 5)

series summary:  bucky used to brag that he didn’t have a celebrity crush, or really care about famous people at all, which is what made him the perfect person to start working for a celebrity like yourself.  except, of course, it’s just his luck that he’d fall for you.  

word count: 5.1k

warnings: smut (in the form of road head lmao) plus some more implied smut and teasing and stuff, use of 'y/n' which is perfectly fine but it still makes me anxious cause I've never done it before, other than that just fluff and celebrity/PR stuff

You tilted your head slightly as you watched Bucky emerge from the pool, slicking his wet hair back out of his face, body dripping with cool droplets that sparkled in the afternoon sunlight.

Yeah, you were never going to get tired of this view.

“See somethin’ you like?” he grinned as he grabbed a towel and rubbed it over his hair before lowering it to dab off his shoulders and torso, his dog tags jingling lightly when he bumped against them.

“Yeah, why don’t you come over here and put that body on me?” you purred. He chuckled and stepped closer, tossing the damp towel aside before leaning down to climb onto your pool chair and hover above you; the dog tags hung low and tickled your stomach, making you giggle a little.

“I don’t know that I should, I actually have a girlfriend…” he explained, feigning hesitance as you sat up slightly to nibble at his jaw.

“You know, a lot of couples have a ‘celebrity pass,’ and I just so happen to be a celebrity… do you two have one of those?”

“Maybe we do,” he replied nonchalantly, raising an eyebrow.

“Who’s yours?”

“This really hot girl I saw once, in this really crappy movie,” he winked.

“Hey!” you laughed, shoving him back. “Which one of my movies is crappy?”

“What makes you think you’re the hot girl I’m talking about?” he countered.

“Oh, you’re really trying to get yourself in trouble.”

“Just to be clear— we’re not going to have any celebrity passes, right?" he frowned. "Because you know a lot of famous people and I don’t like those odds.”

You scoffed. “Definitely not.”

“Good. I can only handle one famous woman at a time anyways,” he chuckled.

//

He, meanwhile, would never get tired of waking up beside you, holding you before you were even really aware of anything yet, feeling you stir in his arms and snuggle up close to his chest.

“Bucky…” you mumbled sleepily into his shoulder.

“Yeah?” he whispered, smiling a little as your eyes fluttered but didn’t really open.

You just hummed and shifted again, looking so peaceful that he couldn’t help but kiss your forehead. “Mornin’, beautiful,” he purred.

And there was the best part of every morning: when you opened your eyes and looked up at him for the first time, and you smiled— actually smiled at the sight of him. He couldn’t remember the last time somebody was this happy to see him. He couldn’t imagine what he’d ever done to deserve it.

“Hi,” you greeted coyly.

“Hey there,” he grinned back. His eyebrow raised when he felt your foot delicately trail up the back of his leg, your hips beginning to straddle his. “Got somethin’ on your mind, pretty girl?”

“Maaaaybe…”

He chuckled, always impressed (in the best possible way) by your insatiability. “Already?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, “had a dream about you.”

“Care to enlighten me?” he prodded, rubbing your back with his metal hand.

“You had me bent over the bed…” you began, voice a bit lower than normal.

“Good start.”

“In my trailer," you finished.

“Oh, you’re filming in this dream?”

“Well, we weren’t filming right then," you grinned, and Bucky clenched his jaw just imagining the idea of filming you while he fucked you. Much too risky when celebrity sex tapes always seem to end up leaking, but a fun thought nonetheless. "But you made me promise to keep quiet in case somebody heard us. Said you didn’t want anybody else to know how I sound when I come.”

He smirked. “Seems like something I would say.”

“But really I liked the idea of everybody overhearing and knowing how good you make me feel… I want them all to know I’m yours.”

“Sounds like a nice dream,” he smirked, shivering slightly when you leaned in to start kissing his neck and jaw.

“Feel like making my dreams come true, stud?” you purred.

“Yes,” he admitted tensely, “but we don’t have time. You have a meeting at 9, remember?”

“No no no, we have time,” you assured. “We both know how fast you can make me come.”

“No point in doing something if you’re not gonna do it right,” he frowned, “and I don’t have time to do it right.”

“You really are just completely against quickies, aren’t you?”

“Morally and religiously, yes," he announced firmly as he puffed up his chest.

“Religiously?” you repeated with an eyeroll.

“Making you come at least three times is sacred,” he explained. “I worship your body. The shapes I make with my tongue on your clit? I’m spelling out my prayers.”

“You do spend a lot of time on your knees,” you remembered.

“Yeah, well, so do you,” he winked. “But you really do need to get up. And I need to shower before I go warm the car up.”

“Fine," you groaned, wrenching yourself out of his grasp and hopping out of bed.

"That's the spirit," he laughed, getting up with you and starting his own morning routine.

He had to keep you in check to make sure you were ready on time, but with a little encouragement he was able to get you in the car with even some time to spare. And since it was just the two of you and you weren't going to be seen getting out of the car, you could ride passenger and be closer to him.

"What's this meeting about again?" he asked as he took the car around the driveway and out of the front gate, starting the commute to the address you'd given him.

"Director wants me for a project, we're gonna talk about her vision and see if it's a good fit."

"Have you seen a script yet?" he asked, hoping that you'd let him take a look at it if you had.

"No, it's still being written, but the concept sounds amazing. I'll tell you all about it after the meeting," you promised.

He checked the estimated arrival time on the GPS screen and noticed it was even faster than he anticipated.

"Hey, we've got some room for error— do you wanna stop for breakfast?" he offered.

"I want breakfast, but I don't wanna stop," you decided.

"What, like drive-through?" he asked, but then you suddenly reached across the console and slid your hand over his thigh and right over his groin. "Oh, fuck."

You smirked as you leaned in a little bit, resting your head on his shoulder as he started to grow hard in your palm. "Keep your eyes on the road, okay?"

"O-okay," he nodded a little, shifting in his seat to make it easier for you to undo his belt and fly.

You reached into his boxers and wrapped your fingers around his shaft— even just that made him shiver and blink a few times to try to focus on driving. Your fingers were a little cold but it was welcome relief considering he was suddenly burning up.

A few strokes were enough to get him fully hard, and it took a deep breath to keep him together as you leaned your head down into his lap, giving a slow lick right over his tip. "Fuck," he whispered under his breath, but you definitely heard it because he could feel your smirk as you kissed up and down his length.

Just when he was about to beg for it, you wrapped your lips around him and sucked, gentle at first but slowly getting more aggressive as he fought the urge to buck up into your mouth.

"Oh god," he sighed, head falling back onto the headrest. Your tongue swiped over his slit where precum had gathered already, and it was just another reminder that you'd already found all his most sensitive places and planned to use them against him whenever you could.

A little hum echoing in your throat vibrated through his cock, making him hiss a little as you started to set your pace of bobbing up and down and stroking what you couldn't fit in your mouth. Little drops of your spit rolled down the shaft to his balls and if he wasn't trying to hard to look at the other cars on the road he would've let his eyes roll back in his head.

Finally, a red light gave him a chance to take his hands off the wheel and grab your hair, stroke your back, hold your face— he didn't really care what, he just needed to touch you.

"Baby," he groaned, "fuck, you're so good… keep sucking my cock, just like that, oh my god—"

A car horn tore him from the moment and made him realize the light had turned green. One hand quickly shot up to steer as he let his foot up off the brake, breathing through his teeth as you sucked him harder and deeper.

Just as he put his foot on the gas, you took him down your throat until your lips met with the very base of him, and the shock made his leg jerk and sent the car lurching forward.

You were laughing a little as you pulled off of him, still stroking his soaking wet length as you popped up to glance out the windshield and then up at him. "Drive much?"

"All the time," he defended breathlessly, "but, uh, not usually like this."

"You can handle it," you scoffed. "All you need to do is not hit any cars or poles or pedestrians. Just relax and let me get my breakfast…"

You went back down with a smirk as he exhaled sharply, silently promising himself that he was going to keep his cool and drive safely.

Instantly, the tip of your tongue just barely pushing into his slit sent that plan out the window, a loud moan echoing through the car and his eyes falling shut for only a moment.

"Jesus fucking Christ," he groaned.

You let out a coy little giggle before getting back into it, returning to your reliable pattern of stroking and sucking with the occasional venture into the back of your throat— but this time gaining speed steadily, making his toes curl inside his boots and the hairs on the back of his neck stand up.

His metal hand had a death grip on the steering wheel while his other stroked your hair and held you down just a moment longer each time your throat wrapped around his head.

"Fuck, baby, I'm gonna— oh god—" he tried to warn you.

You moaned approvingly, stroking your hand and bobbing your head faster.

His turn was coming up and he needed to get two lanes over, but at this point he accepted that he was going to miss the turn because he just needed to come down your throat right fucking now; he didn't even hear the GPS announcing that it was recalculating the route, he didn't even care that he was driving way too slow, all he could perceive was the feeling of your lips around him as he throbbed with each pump of his load onto your tongue.

"Fuuuuckkkk," he gasped as he held you down at your neck, making sure you got every drop. But that backfired pretty quickly when he let go and you still didn't come back up, sucking as if he hadn't come at all. "Oh— oh fuck!" he yelped, and his fears that his eyes would fall shut were gone because they were wide fucking open now, his breathing coming fast and hot through his teeth as your tongue refused to let up.

Your little moans made it clear this was not an accident, but a deliberate attack on his senses that made his entire body jolt.

He tried to pull you off of him, and you resisted for just a moment before finally giving him a break, popping up from his lap to swallow what was in your mouth and lick your lips with a prideful smirk. He allowed himself a quick glance at your satisfied expression as he laughed exhaustedly, still trying to catch his breath as you leaned back in your seat.

"You are…" he began, but he didn't even know where to start. "That was dangerous," he decided to inform you instead.

"But it was fun," you grinned.

Another red light gave him a chance to tuck his softened cock back into his jeans. "We're just a few minutes away, so I don't have time to return the favor," he realized with a frown.

"Don't sweat it, I get the feeling you're gonna more than make it up to me tonight."

"What makes you so sure?" he smirked, even though you were completely right.

"Because I'm gonna take you out somewhere fancy, and you always put out after I buy you dinner," you explained with a chuckle.

"It's cause every time we go out, I have to act all professional and stuff, so when we get home I just can't wait to get my hands on you again."

He pulled in to the parking garage of the studio, finding a spot before turning off the car. You were about to grab your bag but he pulled you into a kiss; not so desperate since he'd just come two minutes ago, but still plenty passionate as his tongue slid over yours in search of the taste of himself to remember what you'd done even clearer.

Your lips moved against his with a quiet little moan, so precious that he couldn't stop himself from gripping your waist tightly.

"You're sure you can't be a few minutes late?" he mumbled, barely pulling back as he reached up and held your face in his hands. "We could get in the back and you could ride me real quick."

"Ah ah ah, we know there's no 'real quick' with you, you said it yourself," you reminded him. "You'll say it's just to take the edge off and then I'll end up folded like a pretzel while you rail me for an hour."

He laughed; he couldn't deny that. "Fair enough. Go to your stupid meeting."

"It won't even take that long," you promised. "And I'll be thinking of you the whole time… hard not to when sucking you off got me so wet."

"Fuck," he growled, "you'd better leave now before I change my mind and make you stay."

You smiled and gave him a peck on the nose before opening the door and getting out of the car. He took a moment to watch you walk away before grabbing his newest borrowed book from the glovebox: Tuck Everlasting. You promised this one wouldn't make him cry which was the only way he agreed to read it because he couldn't handle another sad ending again. And, because he was a little too in love to think straight, he actually believed you.

He hadn't told you yet, though; it was way, way too early for him to feel this way at all, let alone tell you about it. For now, the two of you had something great going, and he didn't want to rush it. Well, he did want to rush it, but he knew he shouldn't, so he kept his feelings to himself for the time being.

//

You were heating up some Vietnamese leftovers on the stove (you’d taught Bucky to stop using the microwave to reheat noodles and now he would never go back) while your boyfriend relaxed on the couch, attempting to find something decent to watch with your meal.

“Hey, one of your movies is on later,” he noticed as he scrolled through the channels. “We could watch that.”

Maybe it was weird that you watched your own movies pretty often— after all, plenty of actors preferred to avoid seeing their own performance— but it made perfect sense to you; you took roles in the kinds of movies that you enjoyed watching and wanted to see more of. It wasn’t that you sought out something you’d been in to watch, and it definitely wasn’t that you didn’t cringe a little watching yourself, but you just happened to like a lot of the things that you’d been in. Plus, they brought back sweet memories. “Oh, which one?” you asked, focusing mainly on stirring the food in the wok.

“After Midnight,” he informed you, and your smile dropped.

“Oh. Um, I don’t like that one,” you dismissed quickly, “what else could we watch?”

“Really?” he pressed, unfortunately not following your segue. “It’s pretty popular… I never saw it, sorry, but I figured I should. Is it not good?”

“No, it’s good, it just—”

“Then what don’t you like about it?”

“Do you not know that I did that movie with Sam Wilson?” you finally blurted out.

“Oh…” he deflated slightly. “You two dated, didn’t you?”

“Yeah, over a year,” you remembered, sounding more somber than you intended.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to bring up any bad memories,” he frowned, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly.

“No, it’s okay, it’s not bad memories,” you soothed.

“Well, I didn’t mean to bring up any good memories either,” he smirked. “I guess you guys were pretty serious?”

“I thought so,” you answered, leaving the silent second half hanging in the air: He didn’t.

“Kinda sucks you can’t watch your own movie just ‘cause your ex is in it,” he realized.

“Yeah, that one’s especially hard since that’s how we met and all… and I was basically the only person on the planet who didn’t watch Code Gray while it was on,” you remembered. “I mean, everyone was talking about it and I just had to smile and nod and try to ignore the big-ass billboards in LA with his face on them. You get used to that last part, though.”

“Maybe you get used to it, but I don’t think I will,” he admitted.

“I guess it’s easier when you’ve already seen your own face on a billboard,” you shrugged, turning off the stove and distributing the food into two bowls.

"That reminds me, I saw your perfume ad on the side of a skyscraper yesterday," he told you proudly.

"Oh yeah? How's it look?" you asked as you stuck some chopsticks into the food and brought it with you to the living room.

"Looks good, I guess, but it doesn't really look like you to me. You're so airbrushed I couldn't see all my favorite little details of your face," he admitted as you set the bowls on the coffee table.

"That's the nature of the game," you shrugged, joining him on the couch and relaxing against his chest as he embraced you.

“Dating in the public eye must be tough…” he mumbled. You twiddled your thumbs and wondered if that meant he didn’t want to go public with you. He must have sensed your discomfort; he always did. “What’s on your mind, beautiful?”

"Would you ever want to… you know… go public? I wouldn't blame you if you'd rather stay this way as long as possible—"

"What?!" he scoffed. "Baby… I don't care about the spotlight, for better or for worse, I just care about you. And I want to shout it from the fucking rooftops if you'll let me."

You grinned and snuggled up into his arms. “Really?”

“Yeah,” he hummed.

“We could, you know… start that process, if you wanted.”

“What about what you want?” he pressed instead.

“I want everybody to know,” you decided with a smile that you tried (and failed) to fight. “I want to be able to go out with you and not worry about who sees or how you touch me.”

He grinned and kissed you, gentle but a little bit less than innocent. "I want that too," he whispered.

"Then let's do it," you announced giddily. "But, let's have dinner first."

//

He was reading as he waited for you in bed, starting to pick up on the fact that you'd duped him into another heartbreaking read. He was about to confront you about it when you returned from the hallway, but you spoke first.

"I just got off the phone with my publicist," you informed him, "she thinks we should get papped together before I post about it on Instagram."

"'Get papped'?" he repeated incredulously as he slipped a bookmark between the pages and set the novel aside. "Is that some sort of hip slang for getting a pap smear because, I'll warn you now, I’m pretty sure anatomy dictates that we can't do that together."

"Paparazzi," you clarified unamusedly as you got in bed next to him. "She wants us to go to lunch or something and tip off a few photographers; it'll be in the gossip rags by tomorrow."

"God, being famous sounds weird as fuck," he shivered.

"You'll find out for yourself soon," you warned, half ominous and half humorous, as you laid your head on his chest. "You're gonna have your own following once this hits."

He grimaced a little, afraid of becoming slightly famous in his own rite just for dating you when he didn't actually have any talent worthy of attention or praise. “Oh god, I’m not gonna have to make an Instagram, am I?”

"No, but you might want to consider a tinted moisturizer," you pondered aloud as you suddenly examined his face closely.

He gently batted your hand away as you reached up to poke his cheek. "Okay, I get it, I'm old. Makeup ain't gonna fix that."

"You're not old," you laughed, "and it's not that there's anything wrong with your face, it's just that everybody looks washed out on camera and the magazines and their readers are fucking ruthless. If I go out without mascara they'll start running shit about how I'm turning into a crypt keeper. God forbid I wear a tight shirt after eating a massive burrito; they'll pick out baby names for me."

"Christ," he groaned.

"You still wanna do this right?" you asked quietly, shifting from joking to concerned so quickly.

"Of course," he assured, clutching your hand where it had been absent-mindedly rubbing over his chest hair. "Do you?"

"Yeah," you smiled, relaxing again. "I can't wait, honestly."

"Then let's do the lunch thing tomorrow. You have to help me pick what to wear, though." Your arms wrapped around his torso and hugged him tight. "Ooh, don't squeeze me so hard, I ate a lot of Vietnamese food," he frowned.

"Sorry," you giggled, still holding him close but applying less pressure. He wrapped his arm around your shoulders, instinctively stroking your arm with his thumb for a moment before leaning over to turn off the lamp on his bedside table.

Yes, his bedside table, with a drawer full of his stuff. Next to your bed. It was like his wildest (yet most domestic) fantasies coming true and he was beside himself about it.

"G'night," you whispered, cuddling up closer to him.

"Goodnight," he whispered back, planting a kiss on the top of your head. He stayed awake just long enough to hear your breathing and feel your heartbeat as they slowed down, only then allowed himself to fall asleep as well.

//

You'd convinced him to stick to his usual style of 90% leather and denim, while you opted for the classic "I'm famous but I'm pretending I'm normal but I'm definitely not" look of jeans and a t-shirt that looked casual but actually cost nearly a grand combined. It was the ideal look for allegedly-candid pap pics, in your mind; unfortunately, the ribs were wanted to order were not part of that look, and you frowned a little as you ordered your salad and gave the menu back to your waitress.

"I'll have the same," Bucky mumbled quickly and handed his menu over as well, the waitress nodding before she stepped away.

"Salad? Really?" you questioned, fixing your hair for a moment since the breeze had messed it up slightly; you had to sit outside for visibility reasons, and thankfully the weather was gorgeous, but you could do without the wind.

"I'm not stupid, I know better than to unhinge my jaw to eat a burger when I'm going to be photographed," he chuckled. "I'm not hungry anyways, I'm too nervous."

"Don't be nervous," you dismissed, "all you have to do is sit here and not suppress the instinct to act like my boyfriend."

He reached forward and rested his hand on top of yours on the table, stroking your wrist with his thumb. "How about this?"

You smiled a little, feeling your face warm; sometimes he made you feel all shy and giddy like that, just from the simplest things.

“So, when are the paparazzi getting here?” he asked, breaking the silence that you hadn't even really noticed before, too lost in your thoughts.

“They’re already here. Across the street, behind those bushes.”

“Wha— oh my god,” Bucky gasped as he craned his head to see there were, in fact, cameras obscured behind the foliage, “they’re good!”

“Yeah, it’s too bad they use their powers for evil most of the time,” you frowned. “Spent a lot of time and money trying to keep less flattering pictures out of the papers.”

“How ‘less flattering’ are we talking here?” he pressed with a raised eyebrow.

“Unfortunate angles while getting out of a car… maybe a rendezvous on a balcony that we thought was totally private…”

“Do I want to know who the ‘we’ was?”

“Nope,” you grinned. "That's all in the past now… and right now I'm here with you." For emphasis, you slipped one of your shoes off and playfully trailed your foot up his leg.

"Careful there, honey, or you're gonna end up with some more dirty pictures to bribe some sleaze into deleting," he warned with a smirk.

"Just gotta make sure these pictures make it clear we're not just friends," you explained, shrugging a little but wiggling your toes as you moved just past his knee before going back down and slipping your shoe on.

"Maybe we're just really, really good friends."

"Ever gotten this personal at lunch with a really, really good friend?" you asked playfully.

"No, I don't think so…"

"Ever had sex in the bathroom of a really fancy restaurant?" you added, voice dropping as you grinned.

"No, and I never will," he laughed, "because the chances of getting caught are astronomically too high. We literally came here for the express purpose of getting caught."

"Yeah, fair enough," you deflated slightly, taking another bite of your salad.

It was easy after that: just talking with him as naturally as you always did. He glanced over at the hidden photographers occasionally but you'd all but forgotten they were there.

"Well, I think our job here is done," you decided after a half hour had passed. You stood up from your chair and he followed suit, but he stopped you before you turned away.

"Not quite yet," he smirked as he pulled you closer and into a kiss— one that just barely pushed into 'a little too steamy for out in public' territory. Even so, he was the one that had to pull away first because you quickly got so lost in it that you would've let him go on forever. "Now we're done."

"Yep, that'll do it!" you laughed, hugging him quickly before dropping a fifty on the table (it was a 40% tip but who cares) and leading him back to the car.

//

His phone was already set to give him news updates about you, and he smirked when he checked it after dinner only to see your plan already in motion so easily.

New photos spark Y/N Y/L/N dating rumors

Is Y/N Y/L/N dating again after highly-publicized romance with ‘Code Gray’ star Sam Wilson?

‘Touch of Blood,’ ‘After Midnight’ Star Spotted At More-Than-Friendly Lunch with Her Bodyguard

Y/N Y/L/N and Mystery Guy Get Frisky Over Salads at Lazan Bistro In The Lower East Side

“Now we just have to wait until tomorrow,” you smirked. “Is it weird that I’m all jittery about it? I mean, it doesn’t really matter, cause we’re the only thing that matters, but—”

“No, it’s okay, I’m excited too,” he agreed, setting his phone down and wrapping his arms around your waist. “Although I am enjoying my last day of anonymity.”

“Soak it in, Bucky-boy, most of us don’t get the chance to really appreciate it before it’s gone,” you giggled. “You should go out and celebrate— go grocery shopping, see a movie, something I can’t do anymore.”

“If you can’t do it anymore, does that mean you’re not coming with me?”

“That’s sort of the point.”

“But I’ll miss you…”

“You’re so needy,” you rolled your eyes. “But I like it,” you added with a peck to his cheek.

“Need anything from the grocery store? Or the movie theater?”

“All I need is a kiss before you go,” you decided.

He purred and pulled you a little closer, ghosting his lips over your cheek. “Do I get to pick where it is?”

“Above the belt,” you scolded playfully.

“That still gives me plenty of options,” he smiled as he leaned down to lift your shirt up, deciding to place his slow, gentle kiss onto your nipple. He wrapped his lips around it carefully, circling his tongue around the bud as it hardened.

“Oh fuck,” you sighed, weaving your fingers into his hair.

He grinned and looked up at you, pulling away just a little too soon to hear your pretty whines. Who’s the needy one now? “Can I give you one more kiss, on the other one?”

“Only in the interest of symmetry,” you smirked, moaning when he moved to the other nipple and sucked it a little harder than the last. He let his teeth just barely graze the sensitive skin, your body jolting in his arms at the sensation.

“Oh, I bit this one but not the first one,” he realized, “so I’m gonna have to go back. For symmetry.”

He kissed his way back and gave a rough lap over it before sucking it between his lips and using his teeth just like he’d promised. “God, just fuck me.”

“Really? I thought you wanted me to go out without you,” he remembered.

“Later,” you sighed, “need you now.”

A prideful grin stretched over his face as he stood back up and held you tight, tapping your back to instruct you to jump into his arms and wrap your legs around his hips— which you did instinctively, much to his delight. “Okay, pretty girl, let’s get you to bed.”

[shadowsingersmate]

Hiii can you do a really angsty azriel×reader where they have a huge fight about him not opening up to her but with a happy ending so they make up at the end?

Hey! I have a lot of request atm and I should probably be doing them by chronological order but I LOVED this idea so here it is.

Tw: cursing, slight mention of sex :)

Hope you enjoy this!

You and Azriel had been friendsfor what you’d say a long period of time. You knew each other for four years now and it was safe for you to say that you had left yourself open for him to see. Especially after you two had gotten together, no you weren’t mated but he still was a huge part of your life. You didn’t hesitate once, you told him 𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑦𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔, around him you were yourself. You wanted him to know every single part of you. You trusted him that much.

Unfortunately, it wasn’t the same for him. Although you two had known each other for so many years he’d still be too close to himself. He’d never talk about his feeling, about his day. cauldron! He’d never talk to you about anything important, the only way for you to know a somewhat small part of him and his life would be cassian.

But you’ve had enough of that, enough of this bullshit behavior. You trusted him more than anyone and although you couldn’t and didn’t 𝑤𝑎𝑛𝑡 to force him to tell you. No, he was a grown male and he could do whatever he wanted but you wanted some answers, you wanted to know why he was so secretive, why he didn’t trust you.

-

It was a normal day, nothing special really. You had just came home from a meeting with rhysand (as you, yourself was a part of the high lords court). Azriel came back to your shared apartment briefly after, the skin under those beautiful captivating hazel eyes bruised, his own gaze hiding pure rage. You would admit, he did do a good effort trying to hide his anger but you’d see under those eyes.

“Hey” you smiled. But your smile quickly faded as he dismissed you with a small ‘hey’ , barely audible in the quiet, empty room.

“You okey?” Such a simple question, but his next words meant so much to you.

Silence....

“You wanna talk about it?” You tried again.

“No” he retorted abruptly. You seriously didn’t know why would you get your hopes up. It was more than obvious that he simply didn’t want to talk to you.

“Are you hungry? I could make dinner” you tried again.

No answer.

“Azriel”

No answer

“Azriel,‘I’m talking to you. Are you okey?”

No answer.

At this point you had stood up walking towards him. He was just standing there, he was gazing at the window, at this point you didn’t even know if he actually heard you.

“Azriel!” You raised your voice.

“Can you please be quiet!” He shouted loud enough for you to flinch. “I don’t 𝑤𝑎𝑛𝑡 to talk about it” he said pure venom dripping of his voice.

You’d never see him this mad over something you had said, and you, for sure, didn’t expect for him to be this mad over such a small question.

“You see that the thing Azriel, you 𝑛𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟 seem to want to talk about it” you snapped. No, you’ve had enough, this was the last straw. “I’m here, I’ve been by your side for years, I’m trying so hard. I’m always trying to make you happy however I can. I’m trying to help you, I’m trying... Cauldron boil me I’m trying so hard” your voice broke slightly at the end “what can I do for you to trust me? To open up to me for once? What do you want me to do?” You raised your voice

Now it was his turn to flinch, he just stayed quiet, his eyes burning yours. His lips forming a thin line, almost as if he was restraining himself from saying something.

You soon realized what he was trying so hard to hide, it had 𝑐𝑙𝑖𝑐𝑘𝑒𝑑, the mating bond had just clicked. You watched him carefully, his look was enough for you to realize that he had know about the bond.

“The bond, you knew about the bond?” Of course that was what he was trying to hide.

No answer, just a guilty look sprained across his face.

“How long?” You questioned. “Y/n please just hear me out”

“That was what all of this were about,Right?” You laughed bitterly “you didn’t once see me as something important, just some stupid female you could keep around so you could use whenever your wanted a quick release, right?” You watched him, he was completely out of words. What could he say really?

“And to think that I was worried about you not trusting me, now it all make sense” you said more for yourself to hear “you barely talked to me, you barely had time for me except only when you wanted to fuck” you sobbed.

“No, y/n please just let me explain I- I“ he lookd shuttered. His gaze was a mixture of pure regret and guilt.

“No- dont! I won’t tolerate this anymore Azriel, I’m tired. You want a quick lay out? I don’t care anymore use your hands, go to a pleasure hall cause I don’t give a fuck anymore Azriel. Because you clearly don’t want 𝑚𝑒“ you turned to leave but something stopped you midway “just answer this one question” you fiddled with your fingers, afraid of his answer. “Did you really wanted to hide the bond so badly? Is really being my mate so tragic?” You immediately regretted your questions “actually don’t- don’t answer, goodbye” you said before you ran away, you needed space- lots of it.

-

It had been a week since you last talked. You’d be so desperate to find a way to get him out of your mind, to forget him that you had asked Rhysand for more work, a whole lot more work.

You’d barely sleep, barely eat. You’d wake up train, work, work, work and then, 𝑖𝑓 you felt too tired you might have actually gotten some sleep.

You’d also bought a new apartment for yourself, you couldn’t bare staying there and also you didn’t want to kick out azriel so you did the next best thing. You’d spent a small amount of money for something small, just enough till you found something better cause your decision was final. You weren’t going back to him, never.

Of course the inner circle had started to get worried, you wouldn’t even attend the family dinners anymore, you just disappeared. You had hidden the location of your new apartment for a couple of weeks before mor and cassian appeared at your doorway desperate for a talk.

Cassian was like a brother to you, mor was your sister. You talked to them, you trusted them but this, this was different. What would you say? They would probably tell you to talk to azriel. That he couldn’t bare being alone or some shit like that, he was their family after all.

It wasn’t that you were being ungrateful, the inner circle never once made you feel out of place, they all welcomed you and treated you like family but that didn’t mean that would last long enough after you and Azriel brake up.

“Hey” mor said quietly.

You muttered a small ‘hey’ in response before moving out of the way sot hey would come in.

“We’re have you been y/n? We were worried” cassian started, he didn’t do it on purpose. Cassian would always jump in questions, he cared deeply for you and you knew that. Mor on the other hand shot he a glare before starting, hereself asking questions “do you want to talk about it? I could ask the baby to leave if you want to” she said.

You let out an agitated sight, blinking back the tears that were mere second from breaking away as you remembered ℎ𝑖𝑚 “There’s nothing to talk about”. You would never imagine how much a heartbreak would hurt. It felt like you had lost a whole part of yourself, a part that would never come back.

“It was never meant to last anyway” you said finally, hoping that they would just drop the subject. It was true, you knew that this relationship would work out, couldn’t work out. He was, well he could have whoever he wanted, what special did you have? Well certainly not whatever he wanted.

-

A month, it had been a month. A whole month with tiring days and endless, sleepless nights. Your under eyes were bruised and your body had changed. The work was swallowing you whole but it did wonders when it came to forgetting him.

Mor, cassian, rhysand, Feyre, even amren and nesta would come to talk to you and make sure that you were okey. You had also realized that Azriel, himself was trying get you to talk to him.

He’d do some hopeless tries. He’d tell Azriel to convince you to join the dinners and start coming on the inner circle gathering more often, mor had told you. But you just knew that whoever Azriel had wanted instead of you just didn’t feel the same way so he tried to found you again.

As you were drowning in you thought a knock was heard, weird. Nobody and told you anything about any visit today. You stood up and made your way towards the door, it was probably cassian and he probably had forgotten to tell you that he would visit.

But you weren’t ready for the person that was standing right outside your doorway. Muscular, tall Illyrian, wings tucked in tightly, grazed eyes scanning you whole. Look filled with guilt. 𝐴𝑧𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑙.!

“Hey” he gave you a soft smile, but it did nothing to hide the pained expression that lingered on his eyes.

You averted your gaze as you clenched your jaw. For a moment you contemplated shutting the door in front of his face, scream at him, or even launch yourself at him.

He had lied to you, he had hurt you, he never trusted you and you didn’t know what was worse the fact that he never saw you seriously or the fact that you believed in this relationship- you believed in him….

“What do you want?” You fought with everything you’ve got for your expression to remain neutral.

“I want yo talk, I- I know what I did was wrong and I know that I hurt you, deeply, but” he paused taking a deep breath as if to calm himself.

“But what?” You snapped venomously and he flinched, he actually flinched “You come here trying to what? Apologize?” You started pacing “I am your mate, and I can understand and accept the fact that you don’t want the bond, that you don’t want something more intimate between us but not telling me? That’s was beyond cruel, because you knew, you 𝑘𝑛𝑒𝑤 that I wanted to find my mate, you knew that I wanted you to be my mate and you didn’t care”

Azriel’s eyes widened in disbelief as he heard you talking. You laughed bitterly “you’ve been dragging me besides you for years and for what Azriel? For what? To dump me when you’ve found someone better? Someone that you actually want?” You blinked furiously trying to restrain your tears.

“Y/n please, I- I do have feeling for yo-“ Azriel tried but you were quick to interrupt him once again. “You think that I’m mad because you don’t have feelings for me? You’re unbelievable! I angry because you hid something like this from me, you humiliated me”

“No!” His voice rose slightly “I never said that, just please let me talk” you snorted but let him go on “I- I love you, all this years weren’t a waste for me. I knew you were my mate from them moment I first saw you. I hid it and it was wrong of me, yes. But I did it because I didn’t want you to feel obliged to accept the bond, I wanted you to see me, I wanted the best for you and still am and I know that I’m not the one that can make you happy y/n” his eyes shone, tears threatening to escape.

“I love you so, so much and the fact that I cannot be the one to make you happy… it kills me. I do t deserve you, I never did and I never will do yes I’m sorrry that I hurt you, I’ll never forgive myself for this but I don’t regret not telling you about the bond from the start, because I know- mother burn me, I know that I’m not the best for you” he was crying, the legendary shadow singer 𝑤𝑎𝑠 crying in front of you.

Your heart broke at the sight of him, at the sight of someone you cared abott it so deeply being so vulnerable in front of you. “Azriel I- I had no idea” you couldn’t restarting your own tears. “I- you, you are amazing you deserve 𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑦𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔 this world can give you, you are everything I could ever wish for and even more. If someone does not deserve this relationship is me. I’m sorry. I- I love you”

His lowered head rose as you uttered the last words, his lips twitched slightly, but the smile didn’t last long as he continued talkibg “It’s not that I don’t trust you, I do trust you, it’s just hard for me to share my feelings and sometimes I need some time before I am ready to talk about some things. But I swear I’ll try, I’ll try so hard to be everything you want me to be. You are my everything”

It was your turn to smile “I love you, I love you, I love you” you repeated again and again as this head lowered, his lips met yours and the room erupted. The kiss was filled with all the love you two had for each other.

“I love you more” he whispered as he pulled you in for a hug.

[avenging-fandoms]

traitor / spencer reid

*sort of requested by anonymous *in which y/n and spencer dated for a little while, and then broke up. weeks later, spencer found someone new. *warning: angst, fem!reader *PLEASE send me requests!!!!! i can do whoever :)

MASTERLIST

Brown guilty eyes and little white lies Yeah, I played dumb but I always knew That you talk to her, maybe did even worse I kept quiet so I could keep you

you smiled as spencer cracked a joke about work, your heart jumping as his laugh made you happy. his phone started to ring and he pulled it out of his pocket as you took a sip of your wine.

you watched as spencer's expression grew nervous, and you knew who was calling. you put your glass down and licked your lips, crossing your arms across your chest and you leaned forward.

"you got a case?" you ask and spencer clicked his phone off, putting it back into his jacket pocket and he shook his head quickly and you stomach sank as he gave you a smile. it's her. it's her. it's her.

"no, just jj. she asked if i could, uh, babysit. i told her i would do it another time" spencer lied straight through his teeth and you nodded along like you believed him. but you knew. you knew who called. but you couldn't lose a guy like spencer, so you just kept quiet, sipping your wine like you weren't dying inside.

And ain't it funny How you ran to her The second that we called it quits?

And ain't it funny How you said you were friends? Now it sure as hell don't look like it

you felt empty after spencer left, the two of you had been in a weird spot the past couple of weeks, and after he left the room to take the phone cal and spoke quietly, you had enough. you had barged into the room, crying to him how you needed him to be there more, but he couldn't do that.

you felt like hell, you couldn't look at anything spencer even touched without feeling sick. you knew spencer wasn't on social media, so you thought you were safe there without seeing him.

there he was, he popped up on a suggested profile, saying he was in a relationship with her. the woman you were worried about. you felt sick about what you saw.

it wasn't even a week and he was all over her. kissing, hugging, everything. 'friends' 'i just met her in a library' 'we're just friends with the same interests. bullshit.

Now you bring her around Just to shut me down Show her off like she's a new trophy

And I'll know if you were true There's no damn way that you Could fall in love with somebody that quickly

"i just don't understand, penelope. i.. i thought he loved me" you sipped your very strong drink, the 3 girls looking at you with a soft expressions.

"oh, he did love you, sugarplum. he just.." penelope struggled to find the words, but there were no words. the way he moved on, he really didn't love you. or he did, but not as much as you did him. "oh dear"

you followed everyone's eyes to the door where spencer walked in with her, with maeve. your mind started to spin and you soon felt sick watching him hold her the way he held you, like she was his shiny new trophy. "yn? yn, breathe, sweetheart" emily spoke softly and you shook your head, jumping off the chair and bolting to the bathroom.

you held the edges of the sink, looking at yourself in the mirror. the door opened and penelope walked into the bathroom. "oh my sweet girl" you sobbed as you fell into her arms, sobbing.

"he doesn't love me, p. he-he never did"

Ain't it funny All the twisted games All the questions you used to avoid?

Ain't it funny? Remember I brought her up And you told me I was paranoid

"hey spencer?" you called and tried to keep your voice calm and not scratchy. he walked into the room with a little smile, and you held out his phone. "who's maeve?"

"what?" for someone as smart as spencer, he loved to play dumb when it came to her. "why are you on my phone?"

"it started to ring and i went to bring it to you just in case you needed to go into work but it wasn't a name or number i recognized. is she.. did you find someone new?" your voice was scratchy and spencer chuckled, shaking his head and taking his phone.

"you're just being paranoid, she's nothing but a friend. i met her at the library while we were both in the same section and we got to talking. she just calls for more information, nothing is going on"

you nodded and spencer kissed your head, tucking his phone in his pocket and heading back into the kitchen. that conversation didn't help anything, and you still felt uneasy about the whole thing.

God, I wish that you had thought this through Before I went and fell in love with you When she's sleeping in the bed we'd made Don't you dare forget about the way

you sat on your couch with your knees to your chest, a half empty wine bottle in your hands as you let your tears fall down your legs. it hurt more than you thought it would because you thought you didn't love him as much as you did.

once he was gone, you knew you loved him more than the world. spencer let you fall in love with him while he still talked to this other woman, and he knew you loved him. and he told you he loved you, but it made you think.. did he really mean it?

spencer laid in bed with maeve cuddled by his side, his fingers rubbing up and down her bare arm. the room was silent, and spencer could still smell you on the sheets, on your sheets.

"are you okay, spencer?" she asked softly and he hummed, blinking a couple times and looking down at maeve. "spencer?"

You betrayed me And I know that you'll never feel sorry For the way I hurt, yeah You talk to her When we were together Loved you at your worst But that didn't matter

It took you two weeks To go off and date her Guess you didn't cheat But you're still a traitor

it had been a month since you last saw spencer and maeve at the bar. you had gotten better, gotten over spencer and it was easier to talk to him. see him? that was a different story.

as you walked to your car in the garage, you heard footsteps behind you and you quickly turned around. "hey!" you put your stuff in your passenger seat and close the door, crossing your arms over your chest as you gave spencer a soft smile. "i feel like i haven't seen you in forever. how have.. how have you been?"

"uhm.. i'm.. working on it. some days are harder than others" you sighed before you asked the question you didn't want to because you knew the answer. "how are you?"

"i'm okay. we're.. i'm good" you nod and you both fell silent. "i miss you" he said softly and you looked at him with daggers in your eyes, a scoff coming out of your mouth.

"you.. you miss me? i guess you should've thought of that before you went and talked with maeve" spencer opened his mouth and you held up your hand. "it's my turn to speak, spencer. you betrayed me, spence. and i don't.. i don't think you'll ever feel sorry for the way you hurt me. because if you did, you wouldn't have went off and dated the girl i was always worried about"

"yn i'm sor-"

"the funny thing is.." you sniffle and chuckle, shifting your weight to your other foot. "i stuck by you when you went to jail, spencer. i loved you when you were at your worst. i waited months for you, damn it!" your voice got louder and it made spencer jump.

"i didn't cheat on you, yn"

"i know you didn't spencer. but you're still a traitor. you betrayed me and my love for you. and i can't ever look at you the same" your throat felt tight and you hopped in your car. "goodbye spencer" you peeled out of the garage, glancing at spencer in your rear view mirror as you left, stepping on the brakes at the stop sign and closing your eyes, letting out a sob as you finally said goodbye to spencer and what love you both shared.

[shinygoku]

Trust Thomas, the Better Version

I find Trust Thomas to be a guilty pleasure of sorts, an episode of Season 3 that has some serious writing issues but I can’t bring myself to hate it. But I can bring myself to improve it significantly with a rewrite!

Helped along by @mean-scarlet-deceiver ‘s commentary tags on the post I’d made about it before, I present to you my saltier, spicier interpretation! 😼✨

Maybe a smidge over the target audience’s recommended intake.... no actual swear words but still, I give it a PG for Parental Guidance ;3 Also no, I’m not gonna put this on my Ao3 as it’s an Episode Rewrite and not one’a my Original Plots.

===

======

Thomas the Tank Engine was feeling bright and cheerful. It was a splendid day, with warm sunshine, birdsong and lush green fields.

“Good morning!” he whistled to some Cows, but the Cows didn’t reply. “...Never mind, they’re busy with their breakfast.”

He stopped at a red signal, somewhat relieved that Bertie only came by after a brief pause, so he probably hadn’t heard Thomas talking fruitlessly to the cattle. Instead, Bertie was preoccupied with a large jolt as he drove over a hole.

“Owch!! That’s another one!”

“Um, sorry?” Thomas was preoccupied with the signal changing and set back off.

Thomas was still in good spirits when Bertie arrived at the next Station.

“Bad luck, Bertie!” he teased. “Now, if you were a Steam Engine, you’d be running on a pair of Reliable Rails!”

“Huh!” Bertie spat. “The Railway was supposed to deliver tar to mend the road two flippin’ weeks ago! You can’t trust a thing that runs on rails!”

“Oi, I run on rails, you big red lunchbox! I’ll show you, I’ll sort the matter out! You can at least trust me to get results.” 

Thomas left Bertie and chuffed away importantly, along the branch line towards the Big Station by the sea.

James was snorting about in the yard. He was saying many rude words and bashing the trucks roughly, cross about having to cover for Percy.

“Ooh!! Arghh! Oww!” wailed the Trucks. They longed for vengeance but were powerless to bump the big Red Engine back.

Gordon watched the events from another rail and chortled. 

“You know, James, if you were ill, you wouldn’t have to shunt trucks here, would you?” he offered, safe in his luxurious role pulling coaches that day.

James’ furious scowl lifted, all too ready to latch onto this half-baked suggestion. “That’s a good idea! Here comes Thomas, I’ll start pretending now!”

Thomas was perplexed to see the two big engines looking miserable.

“Cheer up, stick-in-the-muds! It’s a beautiful day!”

Gordon assumed the air of quiet suffering, his face creased with frown lines. “Not for James, it isn’t. He’s sick.”

“Yes he is --I mean, I am.” wavered James. There was a pause, and then he coughed a couple of times. “Ooh, I don’t feel well at all!”

Thomas narrowed his eyes as he looked over James. He didn’t really look so poorly, but then, Henry didn’t often look as bad as he’d felt before getting Welsh Coal, and then that new shape. Shame he wasn’t here to help judge.

“Hmph, really? I suppose I'll help out, if you're ill. Lucky for you that I'm already headed for the Quarry.”

He bustled out with some of James’ trucks. Once out of earshot, Gordon and James sniggered.

The Trucks were still furious over their mistreatment, and Thomas was a tempting outlet for their pent up aggression. They began to plot amongst themselves.

Thomas collected the heavy stone from the quarry and set off back to the junction. “Can’t let James forget he owes me...” he muttered, going slowly over the wooden bridge. There was something else he wanted to remember, but it was escaping him at the moment.

He was too preoccupied with these thoughts to prepare for the Trucks’ plan. “Go faster, go faster!” they shrieked, pushing forwards, assisted by the weight of the rocks they were holding.

“Augh! Slow down!!” Thomas was braking hard enough for sparks to kick off his wheels, but it was no good. He was forced off the track and derailed into a shallow, muddy pond.

He was dazed and confused, but in the wait for help his mind cleared enough to become rather cross. “Lovely flippin’ day, indeed!” he muttered, further disappointed by the lack of onlookers to hear his withering sarcasm. The only audience was a horrible slimy toad, it’s warty arms climbing up by his lamp-iron.

Eventually two engines came to his aid. Duck pulled the Trucks away, giving them a bump on the way out. “Hard luck, Thomas!” he called, over the pained sounds of the battered Trucks.

Edward helped Thomas back to the Junction and patiently listened as Thomas ranted about the horrible day he’d had.

“I’m going to find James and stuff the stones down his funnel! Gordon, too! James barely has enough brain power to think of a stupid plan like that, it must have been his smart idea! Oooh, when I get to him, I’m going to wait until his fire is out and I’ll dump him off the quay!”

“Thomas, you can’t kill them,” Edward said, soothingly. “You’d have to pick up on James’ work, for one thing! That would probably be after the Fat Controller takes Ffarquhar away from you, cause if you off Gordon we won’t have an express! That’s very costly for the railway, you know.”

Thomas muttered but privately conceded. “Can’t take Ffarquhar away, it’s a place…. Oh! Ooh!! Edward, I just remembered something!”

Glad to hear the shift in tone, Edward listened keenly. “Yes? What?”

“The roads are all dodgy down part of my line, Bertie was complaining about it earlier. He said something about us having supposed to have delivered Tar for it, d’ya know anything about that?”

“Tar… oh, yes! There’s tankers in my station, but they never said what it was for! Must be that, Driver will make arrangements when we’ve dropped you off!” 

Inside Edward’s cab was a slight sarcastic muttering, but Edward and Thomas ignored it.

Later, James spoke to Thomas. He was having difficulty making eye contact with Thomas, who was still perched on the flatbed and needing to be cleaned from the pond, and whose expression had taken a darker turn once he’d noticed the Red Engine.

“I’m uh... sorry about your accident, and so is Gordon,” he shot a pointed glare back at the Big Engine who was lurking nearby. “We didn’t mean to get you into trouble, honest!”

“No, indeed,” spluttered Gordon. “A mere accident, but all’s well that ends well, isn’t that right?”

“It bloody well isn’t right, you big blue blimp! Make sure you don’t rest too close to the sea or you’re going to find yourself well acquainted, you hear?!”

Thomas’ tirade got cut off by Bertie’s arrival.

“My road’s being mended now!” he beamed, having completely missed the atmosphere of the scene.

“Oh.” Thomas was rapidly rearranging his face to put on a smile for Bertie. “I am glad!”

James was using the chance to slip away. Gordon was a bit slower on the uptake.

“Now I know I can trust an Engine, especially if his name is Thomas! Thank you!”

Gordon slinked away like a dog with his tail between his legs.

Thomas rolled his eyes. “Oh, enough of that soppy stuff.” But he was genuinely smiling, at least.

The toad had managed to stay on for the ride over, but Thomas was looking forward to watching it get put in the ditch when he was washed down. Maybe he should name it after a certain Express Engine who had ended up in that water himself some years before? The thought amused him greatly.

[lightsovermonaco]

His Good Sweater: Chapter 10

Masterlist

Shoutout to my bestie @acollectionofficsandshit for all the drunk comments she made while betaing this one... Wish you guys could see them lol

Word Count: 4.8k

Recommended song: “Amnesia" by 5SOS

Pierre paces in his dinky trailer at the Circuit of the Americas and desperately tries to forget you exist. He had already taken down the pictures on the wall but the images were burned into his brain. He had shoved your shirt under his bed, having absolutely no idea how it had made its way halfway around the world to taunt him.

He was slowly unraveling like a spool of thread on a loom as you wove him irrevocably into the tapestry of your life.

The race in Austin started in less than two hours and you hadn't texted him. Not once in the handful of years he'd known you had you neglected to wish him luck before a race, even if it was 2 am your time or you had exams, you always took thirty seconds to warn him to be safe and finish well.

He was beginning to think you hated him for how he'd acted at the gala last weekend, jealous and possessive from afar. Talking to you would have been the better choice. But seeing you laugh and dance the night away had hurt too much. He’d slipped out early after Victoria assured him she could find a ride and sped home to fall apart.

He had only barely managed to piece himself together in time for the race.

Pierre checks his phone for the third time in as many minutes and swears under his breath. He didn't know why he expected it to ring and for your face to pop up at this point. Even if you called to tear into him, he'd still fall to his knees at the sound of your voice. He just wanted to hear you speak, didn't care what was said, only that he could latch onto your words and lose himself in them.

Hope sparks when his phone chimes but he nearly throws it across the trailer when he sees Charles' name.

Heard from her yet?

No. At this point I'm beginning to think I never will again.

Maybe she fell asleep early?

It's 5 pm in London. I'll bet you she's eating a bowl of takeout from the Chinese place down the street, not sleeping.

Its still possible. Don't dwell on it. This isn't the headspace you wanna be in before a race. Block it out. I don't wanna see my best friend wind up hurt today.

Pierre didn't reply, if only because Charles was right. Worrying would get him nowhere. After his shitty qualifying yesterday, he started thirteenth on the grid so he had his work cut out for him. Austin offered plenty of opportunity for overtakes; he could get the job done if his team made the right calls. 

And if he made it to the podium, you would have to text him.

The thin mattress groans when he sits to unlace his hastily tied race boots. He folds his legs to sit criss cross and places his palms on his knees. The familiar pose already has some of the tension leaving his shoulders as his eyes slide shut. He breathes in for ten seconds, reflecting on what ails him. He holds the breath for five seconds before releasing it slowly.

He repeats the process until he comes to terms with the fact that you won't be wishing him luck. That was your choice; there was nothing he could do about it and therefore no sense reading into it. He had done all he could to convince you to trust him. The ball was in your court; he had to be patient and wait for you to take a shot.

“Focus,” he murmurs to himself, forcing any erroneous thoughts from his head. “Walk through the track.”

The circuit at Austin was challenging, consisting of a mix of 20 sweeping corners and scattered hairpins. He was almost lucky in a way to be starting so far back on the grid because turn one was only a few hundred meters from pole and their tires would be slightly colder and less grippy upon arrival than his would be. The few extra seconds afforded to him by starting thirteenth could mean the opportunity to leap frog past his rivals in the first corner.

The counterclockwise circuit meant he would have to keep an eye on his front left tire too, as it would wear faster than the others. He'd change gears an average of 66 times per lap, higher than similar length tracks like Monaco. Pit stops cost an average of nineteen seconds, meaning he would need to build a significant gap to the driver chasing him in order to avoid the threat of any undercuts.

There were too many variables occupying space in his mind to afford you a sliver of it.

Some time later he decides that his four leaf clover tucked safely in the worn leather of his wallet will provide all the luck he needs and switches on his pre race playlist after popping in his ear buds.

"Sights on the podium," he murmurs to himself, hand on the doorknob. "Let's race."

The bass flows through him as his feet carry him to the Alpha Tauri garage on autopilot, through the back entrance and to his plain white driver room. The familiar beats are a numbing salve spread on his frayed nerves, his anticipation rising like a crimson wave in his veins. He leaves his clothes in a haphazard heap in the corner and changes into the white fireproofs hanging nearby, thoughts momentarily veering to you knocking on the door and stripping them right back off.

Shaking his head to clear his mind, he runs through his usual stretch sets until Pyry arrives to walk him through reflex exercises.

"How's your head?" Pyry asks, running him through more cool down stretches. "Do we need to take a minute and do some meditation?"

"Beat you to it," Pierre grunts out, pushing back against the hand on his head to work his neck. "I'm good."

"You sound better than you have all week, I'll give you that. Keep that focus, use it to propel yourself forward."

"Run me through the lineup again," Pierre requests, "I need something else to think about."

Because if he let his mind follow the path it wanted to, it would inevitably lead to you and undo the work he had done to avoid that. He needed to be empty of anything that wasn't racing, anything else was an unnecessary distraction that had the potential to end in disaster.

Pyry rattles off the grid in order of who Pierre needs to overtake, pausing between each name to give him time to recall their driving styles and potential chinks in their armor to exploit. He knew from tapes of previous years that Stroll often ran wide into turn one, giving Pierre the option to brake late and sweep up the inside. Vettel was half convinced the track was cursed, so his mind would work against him enough that Pierre could exploit it and get past at some point. He continued until he got to Hamilton and Max locking out the front row, where he would need a bit of luck to overtake.

"You got it?" Pyry asks, stepping back.

Pierre rolls his shoulders and nods. 

"Get shit done mate," Pyry says and bumps fists with his driver. He slips out to allow Pierre a moment to center himself before slipping into his race suit, leaving it half unzipped and tying it around his waist before following his trainer.

Pyry leads the way to where the matte navy and white car waits, mechanics swarming it like studious worker bees tending to their queen. No one talks to him save his engineer because words from anyone else threaten to break his carefully constructed race mentality. If they wanted him to bring home points, they knew to leave him alone once he was suited up.

His mind is blank of anything but statistics as he twists his ear buds in and pulls on his balaclava and helmet. As his vision narrows to the sliver of track he can see through his visor, so does his focus. With forty minutes to lights out, he's directed out onto the track. He rips the wheel to the right as he exits the garage, getting a decent powerslide for his efforts.

There was no doubt in his mind that he would land on the podium, if only to see the look on your face when he did.

**********

It took an unfathomable amount of restraint to keep yourself from calling Pierre to wish him luck.

You texted Max instead, wishing him a safe and comfortable podium a half hour before lights out. He hadn't responded, likely already in the garage with his trainer going through his pre race routine.

The pace Max had set the day before had awarded him pole position and the margin between him and Hamilton had been enough that you were confident in his ability to hold off the Mercedes for all fifty six laps.

If you were honest with yourself, you were disappointed that the Alpha Tauri you so desperately tried to ignore would be starting in thirteenth. You try not to think about it, instead queueing up SkySports and opening your laptop for pre race coverage. You avoid the interviews in favor of listening to the commentators analyze the grid.

"It should be an easy win for Max as long as he fends off Hamilton until the first round of pit stops. The undercut works well here, as Red Bull proved last year, and I'm sure they plan on doing the same thing this year."

You hum in agreement, gingerly sipping your steaming tea. You really ought to consider a career as a sportscaster at this point based on how often you came to the same conclusions they did.

"I think one of the biggest shakeups is Russell starting all the way up in eleventh after his amazing qualifying for Williams yesterday. Think he can hold onto that position?"

"He's got some fierce competition not far behind in the form of Alpha Tauri. Gasly starts thirteenth- surprisingly far back on the grid given the otherwise flawless performance he's shown this year. But it seems likely that he should be able to overtake-"

You flick the tv on mute, unable to stomach listening to them sing his praises. You numb your mind with social media until the Formula 1 theme plays on your laptop, alerting you that there's a few minutes until race start. Tire blankets are peeled off and the drivers weave their way through the formation lap with the exception of Kimi who takes his traditional straight line approach to warm up his supersoft tires. 

Most of the front runners are on ultrasofts, indicating a two stop strategy. It was Pirelli's recommended approach, and you were glad that Horner heeded their advice for once and let Max use the ultras in Q2. It would give Max the upper hand over Hamilton who starts on the yellow sidewall tire and thus slightly slower lap times.

Crofty and Brundle break down the notable turns as the cars line up on the grid, pointing out the sharp hairpin only a few hundred meters from pole position. If Max got away clean, he would be ahead of the cramped pack and have an even better edge over the silver arrows who would be forced to queue behind him.

The traditional "lights out and away we go" kicks off the grand prix, engines roaring into the first turn. Max does manage to get away clean and is awarded with an immediate advantage. Turn one proves tragic for the Alfa Romeo of Raikonnen and the Asthon Martin of Stroll who collide and cause Kimi to spin. They rejoin at the back of the pack, your eyes snagging on the navy and white of an Alpha Tauri as it streams past. 

Your heart spins in a similar fashion when the GAS driver tag leaps up two places in the timing table, suddenly in eleventh due to the incident. Your gaze snaps to the laptop humming on your legs before you remember its Max's driver cam you queued up. The Dutchman is silent as his engineer relays information about the incident and informs him of the widening gap between those chasing him. 

“Confirm received,” Gianpiero says calmly. No matter the situation or how heated Max got, he always kept his head. It was what made the duo such a good match and had likely kept Max from going off the rails on more than one occasion.

“Yeah,” Max says shortly, clearly pissed about how quickly Hamilton was approaching. “Let me know when I’ve got enough charge to get out of range.”

“Yep, will do. Just keep this pace and you’ll hold him at bay.”

Live coverage replays the incident between Stroll and Raikonnen from the view of onboard with Pierre. The instant the 10 on the halo appears in the center of your screen you suck in a breath. He yanks the wheel to avoid colliding with Ocon, who had to do the same to keep from hitting his teammate as they navigate through the carnage.

You chew on your lip and try to refocus on the battle between the front runners. Not much is happening in the midfield for the next thirty or so laps and Max just barely manages to build a solid enough gap between himself and Hamilton to dive into the pits comfortably without losing places. 

Your phone rings and you answer it without checking who it was as the only person you wouldn't answer was currently occupied.

"Hello?"

"Why the fuck didn't they pit Daniel?!"

You grin, noting the blistering beginning on his front left tire as SkySports switches to his onboard camera. "Because he's about to pass Charles," you tell Dan's girlfriend. She didn't call you often during races. It was likely that she knew you were nearing your wits end and this was her way of offering support.

"He won't be able to with those tires- oh." She breaks off when Daniel passes a DRS detection zone and his rear wing opens, allowing him to pass the Monegasque with ease. 

"Told you," you say with a touch of reprimand. "You're always too nervous about those things. Daniel knows how to drive, just trust him to get the job done and he'll bring home another trophy for your apartment."

"I don't live here," she points out and you roll your eyes. She had lived in London as long as you had known her, but she was almost always at Daniel's apartment whether he was in town or not. Daniel digs in as the camera follows him for a lap, highlighting the widening gap between the McLaren and the Ferrari.

"You basically do. At this point, you're paying rent for a dusty one bedroom apartment on the east side that you set foot in maybe once a month." She scoffs but you push on, "a waste of sterling if you ask me, when you're at Daniel's every time I ask you to do anything."

"You act like I never- there goes Pierre!"

His name sparks dread in your gut as your attention flicks back to the screen in time to see him overtake Bottas on the inside of turn one. He'd managed to claw up to fifth with the move, somehow gaining places while you weren't looking.

"Good for him," you croak, trying your best to be genuinely happy for him. He was pushing the car to the limit and you'd be amazed if he didn't wind up on the podium along with Dan and Max. Charles and Hamilton were the only ones in his way, and something told you Charles wouldn’t put up much of a fight when his mate reached his gearbox. Hamilton would prove a challenge but he had been making tiny mistakes all day. Nothing significant, though enough to add up to him barely holding onto second while Daniel rode his gearbox.

"He's got ten laps to get past those two," she murmurs as if momentarily forgetting you were on the phone. 

"Can we talk about literally anything else please?" You whisper, half tempted to shut off the race completely. 

"Babe, you have to face the music at some point. Either you never want to see him again or you love him, which is it?"

She never failed to be anything but brutally honest. You appreciate it because everyone else let you brush off your problems, but she called you on your bullshit. She would needle you about it until you folded.

"I think it's better for both of us if I pretend we never met, don't you?"

"Easier for you, yes," she agrees. "But it'll kill Pierre. You don't think you could keep in touch with him, just as friends?"

"I don't know if I can handle that. I can barely look at him without wanting to bawl my eyes out."

She sighs, pausing to contemplate what to say. Voice soft, she continues, "Why don't you just take him back? Clearly it's ruining both of you. Are you really gonna let the press wreck the best you ever had? I know its hard but-"

"I'm not like you," you cut in. "I can't just ignore the articles and the comments and pretend there aren't people out there that hate me for being with him. They came to my house, disrupted my family. Hell, Ben can't even go to school without being mobbed by his classmates demanding answers. If my suffering is what allows my family to go about their lives then so be it."

"If that's what you wanna believe."

You sigh, tangling your fingers in the hem of your shirt. "It is."

"Alright," she says, voice teetering on a knife's edge. "I know better than to try to change your mind when you're like this. He's on the podium by the way. Oh, and watch what you say to Max- Pierre will read into it."

She hangs up without a goodbye, leaving you to deal with the realization that the podium is indeed VER RIC GAS on your own. Your eyes are glued to the Red Bull and McLaren drivers, blatantly ignoring the one in the white suit as the anthems play and the champagne is sprayed, turning away to busy yourself with making coffee when Daniel hands his liquid filled race boot to third place.

You weren't quite sure how you were supposed to watch what you said to Max- there was no reason to in your mind. Max was your next closest friend on the grid and you had every right to congratulate him if you wanted to.

Resolute in your decision, you text Max and Daniel a quick congratulations before shutting off the TV and closing your laptop.

Max's insane custom ringtone he'd selected for himself nearly makes you jump out of your skin when it blares from your phone.

"Hey great race-"

"Did you see it? I wasn't sure if you'd watch it- did you see my move on Hamilton when he tried to get past me?" He was talking a mile a minute like he was still out on track. "I was like- and then Dan tried to overtake me on the final lap and I was like no way! And then-"

"Max," you chime in, dragging out the 'a' with a sing-song voice. "You're rambling."

"Oh right. Yeah but I made it! Led every lap and finished with another win."

"That's great." You force as much enthusiasm in the words as possible, trying to match his chaotic energy. "You did great. I know it probably doesn't mean much, but I'm proud to be your friend. You beat a world champ!"

"It means a lot-" 

"Who's that?"

You stiffen at the familiar cadence. You had assumed Max was back in the garage when he called, but he must have still been in the podium room. You could picture him in his race suit, smudges of grease and dirt staining the pristine white. Beads of sweat probably ran down his neck, begging to be brushed away by your tongue. 

"Uh, no one," Max says in a lame attempt to cover up his digression. "I gotta go," he whispers to you. 

"Let me talk-"

"Wait don't," you start, but the call ends abruptly and you blink. You stare down at your phone, completely dumbfounded. Of course his instinct would be to talk to you, to share the euphoria of a podium with you. It was the first victory in three years he wouldn't have you to celebrate with.

It was only a matter of time until his resolve popped like the cork on his champagne.

**********

Pierre's phone is in his hand as soon as Max hangs up. He hefts his trophy in the other, a wild grin on his sweaty face as he snaps a picture. He makes sure he's the only one in the frame, shamelessly wanting himself to be the center of your attention.

"Mate," Daniel pipes up, catching his eye, "you think that's a good idea?" 

Pierre sighs, cutting the Australian a glare. "I'm just trying to fill her in."

"Wasn't your plan to give her space?"

"It's been a week, isn't that long enough?"

"Take it from me, sometimes it takes months for someone to figure things out. Hell, you know how long it took me to sort through my feelings for-"

"I know," Pierre cuts in. "I know. I just- a snap can't hurt can it? C'mon, I just got a podium! If it goes bad I can blame it on the post race jitters."

Daniel holds up his hands and shrugs. "You're a grown man. Do what you want."

Pierre studies the photo, scrutinizing the way his hair was plastered to his head and the awkward way he'd posed to keep anyone but himself out of the frame. It's his genuine smile that he knows will do you in, and ultimately the reason he sends it.

His phone is a lead weight clutched in his grip as he winds through the paddock, constantly stopped by vips and team members congratulating him. None of what anyone says registers, he just tries his best to match their mood and sputter praises about his team's contributions to his podium. 

The snap you finally send back is only from the eyes up, but it's enough. He's surrounded by people in his driver room, but for ten seconds it might as well have just been him staring at a sliver of your face on a screen.

The tiny lines at the corners of your shining eyes tell him you're smiling, which is a step in the right direction even if you won't let him see your entire face. It's enough to reignite the hope that slumbered in his chest while waiting for you to pull the trigger and make a move.

He sends back a video of the people in the room, who cheer when they realize they're being filmed. 'Wish you were here,' is what he captions it and sends it without giving himself a chance to overthink.

Ten minutes pass with no reply.

The beer he’s already consumed have given him a pleasant buzz as well as an excuse to make a bad decision or two. He takes another video of the room to post to his Instagram story, 'Missing you' written in the lower left corner.

Fuck, he hopes you'll see it and regret leaving him on read. Instead all he gets is a text from Charles chastising him for stirring up drama.

Really Pierre?

Blame it on the alcohol, he texts back. 

I know you aren’t drunk. You can’t form a coherent sentence when you are.

Guess i gotta drink more then

Pierre doesn’t turn anyone bearing alcohol away. He's two celebratory shots deep when Daniel finds him sulking in a corner. "You've got my girl texting me freaking out over your story. I've seen it and I gotta agree with her. Was that really necessary?"

"She left me on read," Pierre says like that was enough explanation. His head was spinning and it was getting hard to keep the room upright. "And it's the truth. I miss her like hell. I want her here. She was supposed to come, you know? I was gonna have her fly in with me on the jet. She doesn't start class again until June. I had this whole week planned out. I was gonna show her Texas- she’s from New York and..." 

He trails off when he notes Dan’s pitying smile. Daniel sighs and runs a hand through his curls. "I know. I get it, okay? I know it's hard but you can't force it. You've gotta let her come back on her own, all you're doing now is pushing her away."

He was fucking clueless when it came to these things. He'd had you for a few precious moments and now that he'd lost you he didn't know how to act. His mind was running on hazy autopilot; he barely knew which way was up, let alone did he trust himself to make any sort of important decision.

He stares down at the shot he'd been handed at some point before throwing it back. The cheap whiskey burns his throat but he barely registers the sting. "Should I take it down?"

"She already saw it," Daniel says gently, as if he anticipates how bad the fuck up will hurt. And it does. It hits him like a tire wall at two hundred kph, knowing that you were probably ranting or crying on the phone with Daniel’s girlfriend. "But yeah, that's probably best. People are already wondering what happened between you two, no need to throw fuel on the fire."

"You're probably right-" Pierre cuts off when Charles arrives with a grimace on his face. He shakes his head and gives his friend’s shoulder a squeeze. 

"For once I'm not the dumb one."

"You're a dick, you know that right?" Daniel says, allowing Pierre to delete the post. It takes him a few tries before he gets it down, but undeniably rumors will be circulating in the morning if they weren’t already.

"Honestly what were you thinking?" Charles demands, edging towards full blown yelling. "I told you to leave her be. The gossip stemming from this isn’t gonna help.”

The last thing he needed was someone else telling him how stupid his decision had been. At least Daniel had the decency to show sympathy. 

"Honestly?" Pierre responds with the same intensity, his anger flaring. "Honestly, Charles, I was thinking that she was happy for me but was too afraid to take the leap. She haunts me. Every second I’m awake I have to force myself away from her. Even when I’m asleep I can’t get away from her. So I don’t know, maybe I wanted to haunt her too."

“This isn’t the way you win her back and you know it.”

“I know!” Pierre throws up his hands. “But what else am I supposed to do? She won’t talk to me. She has no problem talking to Max or Daniel but apparently she draws the line at me.”

“You know it’s not-” Daniel's eyes flick to his phone and he fights back a grin. All it does is remind Pierre that he lost the person that could bring that sort of smile to his own face. "Fellas I wish I could stay and help but I gotta get going. Charles, I think Pierre needs another drink." He slaps five American dollars in the Monegasque's hand. "First one is on me."

Pierre is too deep in a spiral to care when his friend drags him from the party to a bar just south of the circuit. Somehow it was within walking distance; the floor was sticky and the lighting was for shit but he didn't care.

Pierre's focus was on downing shot after shot, erasing the broken image of you his mind had conjured up. He never should have posted the story. It only served to feed into what the media had been speculating for the past week and dredged up more tension between you.

Pierre stops checking his phone two shots later. The liquor provides a wet blanket over his senses, dousing him in cold water and scrambling his brain. He could barely remember his own name, but yours still lived in the corner of his mind.

Even drunk, he refused to forget you.

Two hours and who knows how much alcohol later, Charles helps Pierre back to his hotel room.

Pierre falls asleep as soon as he hits the mattress, head too blurry to dredge up memories of you.

[chaos-writes-fanfiction]

I’ll always love you

Pairings: Oikawa × Fem!reader (established relationship)

Warnings: angst to fluff, heart break, (fluff ending)

You and Oikawa have been dating for over a year and a half. Hes recently recovered from a knee injury and even though hes promised that he’ll take it easy. You know he won’t.

So one night after school you are waiting for him to go home. When the most of the team had already left nearly thirty minutes ago. You walk in and see your boyfriend and Iwaizumi.

“Toru!” You scold seeing him still practicing

He freezes hearing you and walks over.

“Hey cutie” he said “you’re still here?”

“Yes you were supposed to walk me home” she said “and the rest of the team left almost a half hour ago”

“Well you se-” he started

“Enough, you just recovered from your last knee injury” you said “you promised me that you would take it easy so you wouldn’t hurt yourself again, but here you are doing extra practice”

“But I am” he said

“No you’re not Toru, if you were you would be home” you said “I know you love volleyball, but I can’t sit by and watch you get hurt again”

“Wait baby, you don’t mean that” he said

“But I do Toru, I can’t sit by and watch you do this to yourself” you said “so tomorrow, I need you to come to my house and I’ll give you, your stuff back”

“But I love you so much” he said tearing up “I dont want this I dont want to break up”

You kiss him on the cheek before taking off his volleyball jacket and giving it back to him. After that you run out tears falling down your face. When you get home you start putting all of his things into a box, his clothes you had been given and that you had stolen. Some of the gifts he had given you. You touch the necklace around your neck, it had been your one year anniversary gift from him, it was a small pendant with a circle charm that had his first name initial ’T’ stamped into the metal. Taking off the necklace. You give it a kiss before putting it in your jewelry box, not having the heart to give it back to him. Its not that you didnt love him anymore, quite the opposite. You loved him too much that you couldn’t bare to watch him hurt himself. You take down all of the pictures and random polaroids from your room putting them safely in your desk. You end up crawling into bed and cry yourself to sleep. In the morning your eyes are red and slightly puffy from crying.

You hear a knock on your bedroom door. That pulls you out of bed.

“Come in” you said pulling your hair out of your face and tying it back

The door opens and you see Toru and he doesn’t look like himself, his hair is a mess, his eyes are red but hes not looking at you.

“You told me to come get my things” he said his voice sounding rough.

“I did” you said standing up and picking up the box from your desk

“This it?” He asked

“That should be everything, if I forgot something I’ll return it” you said

“I’ll let Iwa know, I wont be coming back here” he said “he can get whatever it is left”

“Right” you said nodding.

You looked at him holding the box. Your body itched with the need to throw yourself into his arms and not have it end like this. But you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. You watch him turn and leave. You end up spending the weekend alone in your room, thinking about your decision to end things. On Monday morning before school you decided to go on a morning run and while on your run you see most of the boys volleyball club running.

“Hey!” Iwaizumi said slowing to run over to you.

“Hey” you said stopping

“You okay?” He asked

“Not really” you said

“Wanna talk about it?” He asked

“No, not right now, maybe later” you said

“I’m here if you need me” he said “I’ve got to catch up but I’ll see you in class”

You sighed a little bit and headed back home to get ready for school; you really didnt want to go knowing that once word got out about the break up you’d get harassed and bombarded with questions. Not just from his fans but nearly everyone, and they all knew you had been dating not exactly easy to hide a relationship with him being as popular as he is.

You unwillingly walk to school trying to make it appear as though nothing had happened. Instead of meeting Toru at his home room and staying until it was time to get to your own. You go straight to your own and lay your head down on your desk, covering your head with your arms. When suddenly there was a light tap on your shoulder.

“Yeah?” You asked lifting your head up to see one of his fan girls

“Is it true?” She asked looking at you

“Is what true?” You asked

“That you broke up with Oikawa?” She asked

You look down “yeah, we broke up” you said

“If you still care about him, please consider getting back with him” she said

“What?” You asked your head snapping back up

“They had a practice game on Sunday and like I watched like I normally do” she said “I’d never seen him play the way he did that day”

“How do you mean?” You asked

“He couldn’t focus and his normally powerful serves were weak barely making it over the net and his sets were a mess” she said

“Did he really play that badly?” You asked

“Yes he did” Iwaizumi said from behind you

“Oh God” you said turning and looking at him

“He misses you” he said “a lot”

“Iwa, I didnt brake up with because I stopped loving him” you said

“I know” he said “just think about it”

Almost a week has passed its Saturdag and you were at the mall when you see a Takeru, Oikawas nephew he seemed to be lost.

“Takeru?” You asked approaching him

“Y-yeah?” He asked

“Do you remember me?” You asked

“You’re the girl dating Toru” he said

“That’s right, did you get lost?” You asked

“Yeah the crowd got really big and I got lost” he said

“Take my hand so you dont get lost again” you said holding out your hand

“Okay” he said taking your hand

“Who were you with when you got lost?” You asked

“Toru” he said “can we get ice cream?”

“Sure thing, let’s go to the ice cream shop and I’ll call him” you said

He nodded and you started walking with him to the ice cream shop. When you pulled out your phone and called Oikawa to your surprise he answered.

“Now’s not a good time” he said his voice a little panicked

“I have Takeru” you said

“You do? Oh thank goodness” He said relieved

“I found him at the mall, said he got lost in a crowd” you said

“Yeah…” he said “where are you?”

“I’m taking him to get ice cream, I can take him back to your house afterwards” you said

“Its okay I can come get him, I’ll meet you at the ice cream shop, I’ll be right there” he said and he hung up.

You get to the shop and its empty besides the people working. You get an ice cream cone for Takeru and yourself. You both take a seat at one of the little tables and eat your ice cream while waiting for Toru.

“Are you sad?” Takeru asked

“Hmm? No I’m fine” you said “just stressed with school stuff”

“But that’s not really it is it?” Oikawa asked

“That’s part of it” you said looking up at him

“Thank you for finding him and calling me” he said

“Of course, take care boys” you stand to leave

“Wait” Takeru said taking your hand “can you walk back with us?”

“Taker-” Oikawa starts

“Its, fine I can walk with you back to the house” you said “that’s okay right?”

Oikawa just nodded. Takeru finished his ice cream and wiped his hands with a wet wipe then took your hand.

“Let’s go come on” Takeru said pulling you towards the door

You follow him throwing away your napkin after finishing your ice cream. Once out of the mall you swing his hand that’s still holding yours, as he talks to you about school and his friends. Oikawa watches you smile and talk to his nephew. His heart hurt, he wanted to take your hand in his and kiss you. But you weren’t his anymore and he couldn’t do that.

You get to Oikawas house only to realize that he was yet again missing. Thankfully you had Takeru which is was the important thing. You knock on the door and his mom answered the door.

“Oh darling what are you doing?” She asked you

“I found Takeru at the mall he got lost, so I took him for ice cream and we met back up with Toru, and on our way here he disappeared again” you said

“Thank you again for the ice cream” Takeru said releasing your hand

He took off his shoes and walked further into the house.

“Thank you for making sure he was safe” she said “Would you like to come in for some tea?”

“Oh I dont want to intrude” you said

“Please I insist darling” she said

You walk in and take off your shoes and follow her into the kitchen.

“I know it must not have been easy spending time with Toru and Takeru, since I know you’re no longer dating my son” she said

“Not really, but Takeru insisted, and I’ve never been good at telling him no” you said

“Do you want to talk about the break up?” She asked handing you a cup of tea

“A little yeah” you said taking a sip. “I still love him so much, but he’s just recovered from hurting his knee and I found him over working himself after he promised me that he would take it easy”

She nodded and listened placing one of her hands on yours

“I dont want to see him hurt again, because I know how much volleyball means to him, and if he keeps getting hurt he’ll have to stop playing” you said “I just want him to take better care of himself…”

“He went through the box you gave him, and he was surprised that the necklace he gave you wasn’t there” she said

“I know, I kept it” you said and pulled the chain from under your shirt “I’m still wearing it”

“Why?” Oikawa asked you hadn’t heard him come in.

You turn to look at him on the verge of tears.

“Because I’m still in love with you Toru, that’s never changed” you said

“You broke up with me” he said

“Because I don’t want you getting injured again or to the point where you have to stop playing volleyball” you said “I know now how much it means to you, but you have to stop over working yourself”

“I was only staying late that one night because I had missed practice for two months” he said “I know Iwa and a few of my fans have talked to you”

“They have” you said

“So you heard about the pitiful practice game?” He asked

“Yes” you said

“You still love me, you said it your self right?” He asked

“Yes, I do” you said

“Then take me back, cutie, I love you so much” he said “I’ll take care of myself so I don’t get hurt, I’ll do anything I just need you back”

He had tears falling down his cheeks. You gently cup his cheeks and wipe his tears, bringing him down into a gentle kiss. He wrapped his arms around your waist pulling you close before slowly pulling away resting his forehead against yours.

“I’m taking that as a yes” he said

“It is a yes” you tease him

“Good” he said and he looked at his mom

“She can stay the night, I’ll call her mom” she said

“Thank you” you said

Oikawa led you to his room and laid down on his bed pulling you with him. The night was spent with cuddles, kisses and whispered ‘I love you’s. The next Monday at school things were back to normal walking to school with him attached at the hip when his team found out they were happy to have their captain back to his normal self.

[fumingspice]

andante

Pairing: Cordelia Goode x Reader

Prompt: oK so how about like?? Delia x reader and they're both in love af but they think the other has no feelings for them so they're both tripping over themselves to make the other love them and then madison comes in and she's just like 'stop being dumb' and they finally realise how much the other loves them.

I’m sorry but my ed crept back in and im not horny enough to put more thought into writing so just ignore the massive time skip at “---”. enjoy, you strange people xo

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*(*❦ω❦)*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

It's crazy. Falling. You see? We don't say "rising into love". There is in it, the idea of the fall. And it goes back to extremely fundamental things. That there is always a curious tie at some point between the fall and the creation. Taking this ghastly risk is the condition of there being life. You see, for all life is an act of faith and an act of gamble...

Between Cordelia Goode's ears were pretty brown eyes and a mind full of thoughts. Brown eyes were never really your favourite until you saw them on her. You knew yourself that somehow, over the years you got to know Cordelia; working with her, befriending her, carrying her home from the bar one night when she got far too drunk, letting her cry into your shoulder when her job became too real and she could feel her mother's words hanging over her head.

When you started falling for the woman with those beautiful brown eyes.

Somehow, her eyes were now your favourite colour.

Not brown- brown wasn't simply the word for the colour. Cordelia's eyes were the colour of aged whiskey. Sometimes they were the only two safe shots of tequila that you could see. Sometimes they were a beautiful milk chocolate dotted with exposed honeycomb. Once when she had asked you to help her decorate the garden for the Summer Equinox- she had given Zoe enough money to take the girls on a field trip for the day so she could give the girls a little party. You stood watching her in her denim shorts and her white button up. When she had stepped back and put her arm around you to admire both of your handy work you could have sworn her eyes were glowing like fresh magma.

Her hand lay on your waist a split second too long.

You had fallen in love with the Supreme.

"Yo, bitch!" Madison Montgomery's usual entrance phrase disturbed you from your imagination. You raised your brow and smirked.

"Yes, Madison?"

The blonde took her sunglasses off her face and closed them with a slight snap. "The girls want to know if you wanna come to play Pysch! with us," she said. Her lips were curled in what could almost be described as a friendly smile. You were one of the few honoured to know that under Madison's bitchy white girl facade there was actually a very sweet someone lurking under there.

You thought for a moment and put your pen down. "I won't be long- I just have to log these last few names and I'll be there," you tell her. Madison rolled her eyes and waved her hand, the pen lifted itself and wrote the last thirteen names within seconds. "You're done. Let's go, Y/N."

Madison didn't even give you a minute to say anything before she walked out of the room. "Come on, bitch. Don't make me use my powers!" she called from the hallway, finally motivating you to move.

The girls sat in a circle in Zoe's bedroom. Lights off. Candles lit.

Zoe, Queenie, Mallory, and Coco were indulged in their phones for the game. Madison turned to you and held up her phone to show you the question. "What is Zoe's deepest, darkest secret?" she read. "You gotta answer it and the person with the most votes wins. It lasts for ten rounds and it can be fucking hilarious."

Zoe's face was red with laughter at the answers. "She's not actually a witch- that's not even funny," she gasped through cackles. She then sobered slightly. "She likes to watch Danny Devito movies while masturbating and screaming 'I am a dirty man'."

Madison was the only one who chortled at that.

You joined the game and got your best answers ready in your head. "If Madison got arrested tomorrow what would it be for?"

Madison rolled her eyes and muttered something about knowing exactly what everyone was about to answer. You smirked slightly, sensing her slight apprehension.

Prostitution.

Murder. Third-degree.

Fucking up the brakes on a bus full of frat boys.

Public Nudity.

"Gosh, you're so original," she muttered, glaring right at Zoe, who just shrugged.

"It's the rules of the game, bitch. Go all in, don't get offended," she replied.

The game pinged for the next question.

"What is on Y/N's mind right now?"

Coco gave a loud "Ha!" and typed quickly, along with the other girls who were all typing as quickly as possible to get their answers in first.

A quiet knock came from the other side of the door and Cordelia poked her head around. "Sorry to interrupt, girls. Y/N, could I borrow you for a moment?" she asked, voice sweet and angelic. You bounced up as soon as she finished the sentence and obliged straight away. You were met with a sweet smile.

Madison flicked her brows. "Speak of the devil," she muttered, winking at Delia's slightly confused face. As you left, your phone pinged to announce the results just before you left the game.

Cordelia 🥵🥵🥵

Delia. I ship it <3

Getting knuckle deep finger fucked by the HWIC

French fries

You quickly shut off your phone screen before Cordelia could see.

"What's the matter, Delia?" You asked, practically skipping alongside her. There was a vibrant air of satisfaction between you.

Cordelia shook her head, her blonde hair bobbing with her movements. “I just wanted to know if you’d like to go out.”

You felt your heart stop. “Go out?”

Cordelia looked hurt by the confusion on your face.

“Yes. Would you like to join me in the garden?”

“Oh,” you realised, slightly disappointed. “I would love to.”

---

"For the love of Hades. Right, I don’t mean to sound rude or anything because I have some understanding that lesbians are fucking useless because of the fear of appearing to be predatory because the media is an asshole,” Madison continued. “But I don’t really think any of us can eat at this table anymore without choking on the fucking sexual tension between the both of you.”

Cordelia looked shocked. “It’s not that-”

“I’m a fucking mindreader! You do get that I can fucking hear the things that you say in your head about what you want to do to Y/N? I’m one gutter minded bitch and not even I’m creative enough to come up with that shit while I’m eating my fucking apple turnover!”

You blushed hard and chuckled.

Madison’s neck snapped towards you. “Oh, and don’t getting me fucking started on you! Do you know how fucking unsanitary it would be to carry out your little fantasies of fucking Cordy on the kitchen counter? Not even for us but the amount of fucking crumbs that would work into your nooks and crannies would be like trying to spring clean Myrtle's fucking hair! "

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Cordelia chuckled nervously. Her face turning a shade of red. “I’m sure Y/N’s got plenty of better options.”

Madison dropped her face in her hands and rubbed her temples. “God, you bitches are going to put fucking years on my skin.”

“Oh, give me a break, Madison.”

Cordelia stumbled foward slightly, having been tripped up by some unseeable force and sending her tumbling into you. Her hands lay against your chest for that split second too long once more.

Your lips parted for a moment and your breath hitched as you both watched Madison smirk and leave the room. It felt like your heart was beating at a thousand miles an hour. You surroundings were unnoticable to you now; replaced by unidentifiable whirls of colour and light. Your hand rested flat on Cordelia’s cheek. It was different this time. Not the spark, that had been there every time you touched. It was the fact that you were both too slow to ignore the ignition that started in your chests. 

You saw her eyebrows falter from their previously confident expression, like all of her preparation and barriers and walls had fallen down and she was too slow to replace them. Cordelia pursed her lips, presumably trying to figure out what she should say to you. Again, she was too slow as you inhaled sharply and thrust yourself forward to catch her lips.

Delia was quick to mould herself to the curves of your front, hands falling to the small of your back on a collision course as she backed you into the dining room table. You smoothed your hands over the contours of her jaw, her collar bones, breasts, hips like you were a master pianist playing a brilliant concerto. Her body was the only instrument you longed to play; her moans the only melody that you longed to draw from her.

As her lips glided across your own, everything came together like pieces into place. You thought back one of those late nights in the kitchen. The way Delia’s fingers had so enthusiastically laced through yours during the late night in the kitchen when you had both stayed up until the wee hours of the morning talking about life. How the witch had turned the radio on and taken your hand while you danced to some song by REO Speedwagon. Twirling you through the night. “Can’t fight this feeling” was the song. Ironic, now that you thought about it. It seemed as though fighting her feelings was what she had been doing the entire time.

She twirled you around in the light of the dim television and the refrigerator when the songs were upbeat, even going as far as dipping you and pulling you up again. Bare thighs against your own in her shorts and oversized shirt. When the songs that were played were slower, she was more gentle. Until eventually you swayed in a slow two-step, your head against her chest, and hers against yours. The air was thick with something pure. Something untouched. 

You had no idea why you ever just thought this was something two best friends did. More so, you had no idea why you didn’t lean back and dip into her lips and allow your souls to dance the waltz that they were so clearly destined for. 

Cordelia’s thumb and finger lay on either side of your jaw as she continued to kiss you as if her soul depended on it. Her fingers interlocked with yours against the table.

She broke away, tears had fallen down her cheeks and made your heart melt. “Oh-ho,” you chuckled, mouth agape at her sight. “Why the tears, my love?”

Cordelia laughed, wiping away her tears. “I’ve longed to do that for so long,” she replied. “So, so long.”

You chuckled at her sweetness and the display of pure love that you were so unaccustomed to.

“I fell in love with you, Y/N. I don’t think I will ever stop falling in love with you. You’ve created this storm of beautiful chaos in me,” she continued. “Do you remember that night where I was really sleepy, so you let me just stay in your room? How I had fallen asleep on top of you by accident and you wrapped your arms around me and hummed a lullaby?”

You nodded, remember the feeling of waking up with the Supreme in your arms.

“I was wide awake,” she told you. A delicate smile arose.

You chuckled into her touch.

“Oh, sweetheart,” you replied, drawing her closer, her blonde hair twirled in your fingers. “I know you were.”

[fruitcoops]

Hi! Do you think you’d be willing to write some Cubs fluff for Mardi Gras? Like Leo making Finn and Lo do something (I don’t exactly know how it’s celebrated)?

Oh my god I LOVE Mardi Gras!!! Also, I haven’t done Cubs fluff in a while, and I combined it with a couple other related prompts. This fic includes Cubs and Coops bonding (ft. Logan being a little shit), Leo learning to drive in the snow, a chaotic trip to the grocery store, and Lions family dinner after a winter walk. Hope you enjoy! Sweater Weather credit goes to @lumosinlove, as always <3

“Eas—Easy, babe, just take it nice and steady,” Finn gripped the ‘oh, shit’ handle with one hand and Leo’s thigh with the other; in the backseat, Logan rubbed his neck where the seatbelt bit into it.

Leo took an unsteady breath and carefully pressed the gas again, wincing as the car rumbled under him. “Oh god, oh fuck, okay.”

“Snow isn’t that hard to drive in—” Finn cut off as Leo slammed on the brakes again. “—as long as you don’t brake hard whenever you feel a little bit of ice. Lo, you okay?”

“Fine,” Logan wheezed, bracing against the car door.

“Slow and steady wins the race,” Finn murmured, keeping his eyes fixed on the road as Leo began inching forward again. “If you start to slip, take your foot off the gas and do not slam the brakes, okay? We don’t want to skid.”

“I don’t get why you can’t drive us there,” Leo said, glancing in each of his mirrors even though they were still in a fairly residential area. Ten minutes on the road and they’d barely made it four blocks from the apartment.

“Because you need to know how to drive properly.”

“I know how to drive!” Leo saw Finn and Logan exchange a look through the rearview mirror and smacked him lightly on the chest. “Stop it. When’s my next turn?”

“Still 53rd.”

“Left or right?”

“Right.” Finn tapped out a quick text on his phone. “Cap and Loops just arrived at the store.”

“Fuck,” Leo muttered.

“It’s okay, Peanut, take your time,” Logan said. “Just focus on getting there safely.”

Leo tried to breathe deep and they rolled down the block, flinching each time snow or ice crackled under the tires or threatened to make them slide. “I drive in the rain all the time. This shouldn’t be hard.”

“Rain is way different than snow.” Finn pointed to the next intersection. “Turn there.”

They took the turn a bit wide, but thankfully there were no cars on the other side—still, both Finn and Logan went pale. Logan cleared his throat. “Streets here aren’t as wide as New Orleans, mon amour.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Leo grumbled. “How much further?”

“The parking lot is on the next block.”

They almost got stuck driving up the small ramp into the parking lot due to Leo’s ‘slow and steady’ approach and he could have sworn he heard Logan muttering the Hail Mary in French under his breath. Parking was easy—nobody in their right mind would be driving after a true Gryffindor snowstorm. Except us, he thought wryly as he turned the engine off.

“Don’t forget to lock the car,” Finn said mere seconds after the key was out.

“Dude.”

“Sorry. Uh, Cap’s by the produce section.”

They were too focused on not slipping and falling on their asses to talk much while they walked through several snowdrifts to get to the front entrance of the grocery store; Leo sighed with happiness as soon as the heated air hit his face.

“Harzy!” Cap waved an arm over his head from the apple stand, smiling brightly. “You survived!”

“It was a close one,” Finn called back with a grin, sliding his hand into Leo’s back pocket as the three of them walked over.

“Dibs on riding in the cart!” One of Logan’s legs was already halfway into the basket before Sirius could stop him; he kicked aside the celery and onions and settled down, leaning back onto Sirius’ hands. “Bonjour.”

“Get out.”

“Non. I live here now.”

“I’m not pushing you.”

“I will!” Finn said. “Where’s the old ball and chain, Capsicle?”

“Call me that again and you can say goodbye to your ball and chain,” Remus said drily, lugging a bag of rice over from the other aisle. He stopped when he saw Logan, looking amused. “Hiya, Tremz. You look comfy.”

“Oh, I am.” Logan lounged in the cart, letting one leg drape over the side; he groaned when Remus set the rice bag on his chest. “Was that necessary?”

“No, but it was funny.” He grinned at Leo. “How was driving?”

Leo shrugged. “Decent.”

Sirius snorted as they began walking toward the meat section. “That bad, huh?”

“It’s a miracle I wasn’t beheaded,” Logan said. “Fish, how fast can you make it to the end of the aisle?”

“Loops, time me.” Finn tightened his grip on the cart and bent into a runner’s stance; Leo and Sirius both rolled their eyes as Remus dug his phone out of his pocket and opened up the timer.

“Ready…set…go!” Finn ran for three steps before hopping onto the under carriage as Logan whooped. Remus stopped the timer. “Four point six seconds! Get back here, I wanna try.”

“You’re not going to beat that time,” Logan laughed as he climbed out of the cart.

Sirius raised his eyebrows at the same time Remus stuck his tongue out. “Watch me. Knutty, can I trust you to be an unbiased timer?”

Leo shrugged. “Sure, gimme your phone.”

“You have one of your very own.”

“Trying to hide something, are we?” Logan wiggled his eyebrows suggestively and Sirius pushed him away by the forehead. “Spill the beans, Loops! Got some spicy messages in there? Some things poor baby Nutter Butter can’t handle?”

“No, I just don’t trust any of you with anything that belongs to me,” he laughed. “You’re walking safety hazards.”

“I’m taking that as a compliment,” Leo said as he set the timer. “Ready? Go!”

Sirius nearly tipped the cart over when he stood on the lower bar, making both of them yelp and wobble for a moment. Leo stopped the clock at the end of the aisle. Three point nine seconds.

“Sorry, guys, that’s four point eight seconds!” he called as Sirius pushed the cart back up to them.

Remus narrowed his eyes. “Show me the phone.”

“I already reset the time.”

“So we definitely won,” Sirius said while Remus clambered out of the basket and Logan took his place. “Get out, Tremzy!”

“Make me!”

Sirius reached in and grabbed him under his armpits, but Logan kept a tight grip on the sides. “Are you done?” Remus asked wearily once Sirius started shaking him. “ ‘cause our grocery list is, like, a million miles long.”

With a disgruntled noise, Sirius dropped Logan back into the cart. “With any luck, he’ll be crushed under the food. What’s next?”

They had a few more competitions during their journey through the store, including onion basketball, vegetable Tetris, and a highly amusing game of twenty questions that ended in Sirius laying the bag of rice over Logan’s face.

Leo did some mental math as they walked out with six grocery bags full of ingredients. “We’ll need about seven pots to fit all this, but we’ve only got two that would work.”

“I think we’ve got one or two as well,” Remus said as he hauled a bag into the trunk of their car and brushed his hands off. “Celeste probably has some, and I can give Lily a call. Where are we making it, again?”

“Dumo’s. There’s nowhere near enough space at the apartment and I don’t want these two anywhere close to it.”

Finn shot him an offended look over a bag of onions. “Hey!”

“I love you, sweetheart, but if you fuck up my gumbo I’ll cry.” In the back of his mind, Leo was already thinking of small jobs for Logan and Finn to do so they could make it together, but they didn’t need to know that. It could be a Mardi Gras surprise.

“The sun’s coming out,” Sirius mused, looking upward at the clear blue sky. “Nothing we bought is going to melt. Do you want to go for a walk before we head out?”

Logan checked his phone. “We’ve got time.”

“Sounds good to me,” Leo agreed.

“I’m never going to say no to a snow day,” Finn laughed, wrapping his arms around Leo and Logan. “Lead the way.”

“So, Knutty, gumbo is basically chicken noodle soup, right?” Sirius asked as he linked elbows with Remus and started down the sidewalk.

“Uh, no.” Leo made a disgusted face and reached out to smack the back of his shoulder. “That’s blasphemy. Gumbo is more like stew, but you put less meat in it and more of a vegetable base. There aren’t noodles, either. Do you even know what a roux is?”

Sirius glanced back at Finn, who shrugged. “…I do not.”

“Fuckin’ hell,” Leo muttered. “A roux is the base to all good New Orleans food. It’s flour and oil, and you heat it up so whatever you’re making has an actual taste to it, as well as some thickness. If you get it wrong, the whole thing is pretty much ruined.”

Sirius raised his eyebrows. “Damn.”

Ahead of them, a pack of kids played pickup hockey on the park’s frozen pond. Several of them wore Lions sweatshirts or hats and Leo leaned his head on Finns beanie with a smile. “Look at how cute they are,” Finn cooed, waving to some of the astonished parents who had spotted them.

“Oh, killer hit,” Remus said as one kid went on a breakaway. “Is he—hey, nice shot!”

They paused for a second to applaud and a jumble of excited yelling echoed off the trees around the pond; Leo burst out laughing and draped his other arm across Logan’s shoulders, pulling him in closer to their huddle as they began to walk again. “We should head out there sometime. We live close enough.”

Finn hummed in agreement and stood on his tiptoes with a hopeful smile. “Kisses?”

Leo obliged, still grinning. “You’re ridiculous. That had nothing to do with hockey.”

“I didn’t get any kisses,” Logan grumbled, snuggling into Leo’s ribs.

“Get up here and I’ll give you one!”

“My nose is cold!”

Leo sighed dramatically and bent down to kiss the rosy tip of his nose—at the last second, Logan popped his chin out of his coat collar and caught his lips. “That was smooth as fuck. Better?”

“Much.”

“Are you three being gross again?” Remus teased, craning his neck to look back.

Finn raised his eyebrows. “Don’t start something you can’t finish.”

“One walk,” Sirius sighed. “I wanted one walk where we could hang out in peace and quiet.”

“You invited the wrong people for that,” Leo snickered as they looped back around the block into the parking lot. “Harzy, baby, can you drive us back?”

“You need to learn!”

Leo turned on his saddest puppy eyes and stuck his lower lip out. “Please?”

Finn scrunched his nose up and flicked his shoulder lightly. “You’re too cute for your own good.”

“Is that a yes?”

“Obviously.”

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

After a quick pit stop at their apartment to pick up the pots, they arrived at the Dumais house just past two in the afternoon. Sirius and Remus pulled into the driveway just as they began unloading groceries from the truck and hurried over to give them a hand; all five of them were immediately mobbed by children the second they set foot in the house. Leo carefully took the onions from Logan so he could sweep Katie over his shoulder and tickle her knees, making her dissolve into giggles.

“My boys!” Celeste called from the entrance to the kitchen. She practically glowed with excitement as she pulled them into a group hug and Leo melted a little when she pressed a kiss to each of his cheeks. “You brought the food, yes?”

“We’ve got everything we need,” he confirmed, holding the onions and a pot up as proof. “As long as you’ve got counter space, we’ll be a-okay.”

Sirius and Logan lingered in the doorway, chatting with the kids in rapid French that Leo didn’t even try to keep up with—he used to think regional differences were made up for internet clout, but even after living with Logan for close to a year he sometimes struggled with the pace.

Celeste helped them gather cutting boards, knives, and basic spices that they hadn’t picked up at the store; Leo felt a thrill in his gut and drummed his hands happily on the countertop at the sight of the familiar ingredients. He made a mental note to send a picture to his mother later that night as he rolled up his sleeves.

“Think you can handle rinsing vegetables?” he asked, passing Finn a bag of green peppers.

Finn rolled his eyes, but he was smiling, and he pressed a kiss to Leo’s cheek before going to the sink. Remus unpacked the last of the bags and gave him an expectant look—Leo was struck by the sudden realization that for once, he was the only one in the kitchen who knew the recipe.

“Um, I’ll start the roux,” he said, grabbing the flour and oil. “Loops, can you start dicing the peppers, celery, and onions? Cap can help out once he gets the squid children off him.”

A smile tugged at the edge of Remus’ mouth. “Bold of you to assume he won’t drag them in here.”

“Alright, Rookie, what’s my job?” Sirius panted, grinning wildly as Adele wrapped herself around his lower leg and groaned with each dragging step.

Remus spared him a playful I told you so look, and Leo shook his head. “As long as you can use a knife with a kid clinging to your leg, you can help your fiancé chop the basics.”

Sirius mock-saluted him and hobbled to the counter; behind him, Logan wandered in with Marc under one arm and Katie under the other. “I have potato sack delivery,” he announced, giving them each a gentle shake. “Can these go in the gumbo, too?”

“No!” both shrieked at the same time, flailing their legs.

“Those look like pretty good potatoes to me…” Sirius said, glancing down at Adele. “What do you think?”

“Put ‘em in the soup!” she yelled.

“It’s not soup,” Leo complained, though he couldn’t be heard over the loud protests of the youngest Dumais kids.

Sirius finally got Adele to let go of him when he started cutting onions—“Do you want to smell like onions?”—but Katie perched on the edge of the counter and watched every move Leo made with eagle eyes as he finished each roux and began mixing the trinity in. Each motion was muscle memory—the smells wrapped him in a hug made of tangy peppers, smooth chicken broth, and a kick of spice at the very end.

Much to his surprise, Sirius, Finn, and Logan were quick learners. Making five massive pots of gumbo was much easier when he had five more hands helping him; Celeste had even been sweet enough to put jazz on as they cooked and the six of them took turns dancing, partnering with whomever was closest.

The others started arriving at five—almost immediately, the kitchen was crowded with ten new hockey players who crammed as close as they could to the stovetop to smell the bubbling broth. Noelle was the only one who was allowed to get within ten feet of the food, much to Talker’s chagrin.

Honestly, it was a miracle that they made it to the table without the rest of the team falling on the gumbo like a pack of wild hyenas who hadn’t eaten for a week. Kasey’s bouncy leg shook the edge of the table in anticipation until Leo reached over and smacked him on the thigh with his spoon. “Be patient, Bliz.”

“I’m always patient!”

Eight different people made noises of protest and he scoffed, leaning his face over the bowl to get a whiff of the thick steam. Dumo tapped his fork on the side of his cup; it wasn’t quite a classy ding-ding, but it made enough noise to catch people’s attention.

“First, thank you all for coming here for a family dinner,” he said, smiling so wide it made Leo’s heart warm. “Second, I’d like to welcome the older and wiser O’Hara to his very first Lions dinner, since he had the great fortune of visiting just in time to be adopted by the team for a night!”

Loud cheers filled the house and Alex gave a slight wave, blushing under the attention as Kasey and Nat jostled him between their shoulders.

“And finally, everyone say ‘thank you’ to Knutty for sharing his top-secret gumbo recipe from home. We might not celebrate Mardi Gras like New Orleans, but this is a party nonetheless.” Dumo raised his water with a wink and Leo squeezed Logan’s hand under the table as seventeen voices thanked him for his cooking, despite the fact that they hadn’t even tasted it yet.

The house went dead silent as people took their first bites, then erupted into noise. “Holy shit, Knutty!” Nado all but shouted, shoving another spoonful into his mouth. “This is witchcraft.”

“It’s called ‘cooking’, you should try it sometime,” Leo shot back, grinning. The chicken thighs melted in his mouth, and the pop of lemon and spice at the back of his throat tingled all the way down to his bones. He didn’t think Pots had taken a breath in thirty straight seconds. Leo closed his eyes, letting the tangled muddle of his family’s voices roll over him, mixing with the taste of home.

“Ça va, mon amour?” Logan asked under his breath, touching his elbow.

Leo smiled and touched their foreheads together, setting his spoon down on the edge of his bowl. “I’m so fucking happy right now.”

Logan smiled and the edges of his eyes crinkled. “You look happy.”

“You two are whispering without me?” Finn whined, scooting his chair over a few inches and squishing Logan between them. His bowl was already half-empty, Leo noted with a sense of satisfaction. “That’s rude.”

“I love you,” Leo said. It needed no embellishments; no big, dramatic displays. “And I love making food for everyone.”

“You can do it any time, baby rookie.” Kasey scraped the sides of his bowl to catch the last few grains of cornbread, knocking his knee with Leo’s. “Next time we have a sleepover, I’m not ordering pizza.”

“So I’m going to be your personal chef?” Leo snorted. “Not a chance.”

“What’s that saying? The Mardi Gras one?”

Leo savored his next bite of gumbo and looked around the table as everyone chatted and laughed at the top of their lungs. “Laissez les bon temps rouler,” he said. “Let the good times roll.”

[thenovelartist]

Burned Beginnings, Chapter 7

<<Previous  Next>> 

19. You’re Beautiful

Marinette probably should have gone back to her own room for the evening. Then maybe she wouldn’t have found herself in this situation.

But then again, she couldn’t find herself to fully regret her situation, either.

Adrien’s strong arms pulled her closer to his chest as he pressed a kiss on her neck, and she grabbed his shirt tighter as a whine escaped her. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispered against her skin, sending shivers down her spine.

Sure, sure; but she was also in trouble.

The evening had started out innocent enough. They once again had brought dinner back to the hotel so they could talk and be obnoxious without disrupting the other people at the restaurant. But dinner had turned into snuggling, which turned into kissing, which turned into Adrien having Marinette pinned to the bed while he lavished attention on her.

Geez, they were going home in two days, and she was going to be covered with hickies at this rate. She figured she was only okay with that if—

“Ah! Adrien,” she moaned as he kissed her pulse point. “Stop that.”

“Stop what?” he challenged, his voice low, husky, and hot against her skin.

She groaned. How did this man go from “best friend” to “snogging her senseless” in the span of a day?

Better question: how did she become so okay with it?

He tapped one more open-mouth kiss to her neck before pulling away, propping himself up on his elbows to meet her gaze. “Too much?” he asked, voice laced with a hint of concern.

This is my chance.

She contorted herself so as to get just enough leverage to throw Adrien off her, rolling him over to the other side of the bed so now she was laying on top of him.

The shock on his face stoked the already hot fire in her. While this wasn’t much better a situation and she still found herself up to her neck in trouble, she did find this fun.

Actually, she might find herself in more trouble like this. She did always love having the upper hand on him.

“Fair’s fair,” she purred, voice low as she straddled him, giving her the best angle to lean forward to his neck.

Adrien’s chuckle was flirty and deep. It wasn’t fair that he was this sexy, dang it. And it was worse when he grabbed hold of her hips. She gasped at his contact before her lips could hit his neck.

“Oh?” he purred. “You gonna leave marks on me now? Is that how it is?”

She didn’t bother answering—her voice was gone, anyway—and let her kiss on his neck answer that for him.

He growled, his fingers digging deeper into her hips. “Yeah yeah, fair’s fair,” he said, voice strained. “But let me warn you, princess, at this rate, this is only gonna last a little while longer before I kick you out.”

Worried she might have crossed a line, Marinette pulled away a bit, her brows furrowed. What she hadn’t expected was Adrien hissing at the movement and grabbing her thighs to keep her from leaning back any further. She gasped at his sudden grip, face flooding with heat. “W-why?” she stuttered out.

Adrien’s smile almost looked strained. “Last thing I want to do is go way too far too fast, Princess. And you’re really testing me, at the moment.”

“Is that a bad thing?” she asked, beginning to back off.

“No, just something to keep in mind for when I hit the brakes on this thing.”

A wicked smile crossed her lips. “Noted.”

With that, she leaned forward to keep pressing kisses to his face and neck and collarbone, returning all the attention he’d given to her with a new mission in mind.

How fast could she make him kick her out?

 20. Passionfruit

Adrien couldn’t help but be nervous. He was dating his bosses’ daughter.

He knew he and Marinette wouldn’t hide the fact they’d gotten together. But as they sipped on a couple of smoothies they’d gotten before they hit the airport, they were debating if they wanted to tell her parents the truth or lie a bit and wait until a week passed by to break it to Tom and Sabine so he and Marinette could play off like they’d spent the trip as just friends and nothing happened between them.

For example, like they hadn’t swapped hickies in his room two nights in a row.

Adrien had had to grab make-up to cover the ones Marinette left on him. She’d looked way too smug about it, too.

“Why you gotta cover them up?” she’d teased, watching as he expertly put on the concealer.

He’d just glared at her. “Because I want to live.”

“Aww, come on, be brave,” she’d joked, shooting him a wink.

“Do you not want to be with me? Because if I die, you’ll be alone, too.”

Marinette had just shrugged. “Meh, I’m cool with that.”

“Wait! Marinette! Marinette!”

She was lucky she was cute and could get away with those things. Problem was she knew she could get away with those things, which only caused a headache for him.

Why was he dating her again?

Eh, give it ten minutes, and he’d be reminded why.

“I think I just want to be honest with them.”

Adrien looked down at Marinette. “Huh?”

“My parents,” she answered. “I don’t want to lie to them about it. I don’t want to give them any reason to make them question their trust in me. So we’ll tell them the truth. Besides, they do like you a lot. I don’t think they’ll be disappointed or anything.”

Adrien nodded. “I agree. I don’t want to lie to them, either. They put a lot of trust in me to take you to New York and keep you safe and all. I don’t want to make them question their trust in me, either.”

Marinette smiled. “So, we have a plan, then?”

“When do we tell them?”

“They’re making us dinner for when we arrive back there. We’ll tell them, then.”

Adrien’s brow furrowed. “We’ll be getting back late, though. Is it okay for them to wait up for us?”

“They insisted,” Marinette said with a shrug. “And you know them: they wouldn’t hear otherwise.”

That was true. They would insist staying tup to check over their daughter when she arrived back at the very least.

“So, we’ll tell them over dinner,” Marinette said. “I’ll lead.”

Adrien nodded. “Okay, then it sounds like we have a plan.”

When Marinette grinned, his heart was put at ease. “Sounds like a plan.”

She was the one who leaned forward, but Adrien was more than happy to meet her more than halfway. She always tasted sweet, but today, she was doubly so. And he wasn’t sure if that was because of the passionfruit on her lips or just pure coincidence.

 21. Kittens

Marinette was looking at the numerous cats and kittens that filled her sketchbook, but she just wasn’t liking any of them.

With a sigh, she pushed it aside and snuck up to her balcony to cool her head in the night air. It had been almost two months since she and Adrien had gone on their New York trip where they’d ended up confessing, and they’d been going strong ever since.

She had been so nervous to tell her parents, but much to her surprise, they didn’t seem very surprised at all. Instead, both her and Adrien had watched in shock as her papa slid money over to her maman.

“As owners of this bakery, we are not oblivious to its innerworkings,” her maman had said, beaming grin on her face as she took the money. “With you two as close as you were, it was only a matter of time before you two got together. I guessed it would happen during the trip, but Tom thought it would happen after. So I won.”

“Maman!”

While she had been feeling minorly mortified, Adrien had simply doubled over laughing, finding the whole thing hilarious.

Part of her could not believe her parents did that while the other part of her was relieved that her parents took it in stride and practically accepted Adrien as their own already.

Occasionally, she got to thinking about when Adrien would actually become part of the family. Yes, they’d only been dating for 2 months, but Marinette didn’t feel like it was impulsive to think that they worked together and would for a long time. She’d known him for almost a year now, and they’d somehow clicked quickly and had become very close friends before they’d started dating. She didn’t think it was a stretch to say she could see a future with him.

Actually, it was much harder to imagine a future without him and his teasing and his support and his nerdy love of anime and… and so many other things that now made up her daily life.

He matched her perfectly, being both her equal and perfect counter.

Perfect counter…

Inspiration struck her, filling her with a second wind as a night breeze rolled across Paris. But she barely noticed it as she slipped back down her hatch and headed back to her sketchbook.  

[wannabemobwife]

Guns, Glamour and Goodfellas - Chapter 16

Chapter 16: Things We Supposedly Lost in the Fire

Dad!Mob!Tom x Mom!Mob!Reader

-Pairings: Tom Holland x Reader, Rosie Holland x Henry Osterfield

-Warnings: Grief, barely suicidal thoughts, fire

-Words: 4K

Author note: Tom and Y/N don’t really age, I think of them as like Barbie and Ken, never aging. Final chapter will be up tonight around 9-10 PM PST. Sorry for the wait, you guys are so patient. Love ya.

Chapter 16: Things We Supposedly Lost in the Fire

Words: 4K

There you were, standing alongside your husband, daughter and friend as the building before your eyes erupted in a blaze. Smashing windows as the remaining members of Wilson’s mob, funneled their way out of the burning warehouse. Coughing up all the inhaled smoke.

One by one, people bursted out of the doors gasping for fresh air. Their lungs constricted from the dark ash that bled through the sky. You just stood there, next to your family, taking in the sight before you. As sirens rang through the air

The smoke and flames kept raging on, but there was still no sign of Parker.

That was 5 days ago. Now, you were in the present, trying to survive. The fire that took 3 days to put out, claimed the lives of your son Parker, Carter Wilson and multiple men.

Everyone was dealing with Parker’s demise differently. Harrison and Henry had so generously offered to stay with all of you for the time being. You took them up on that.

You refused to leave your room for a week, barely acknowledging Tom and Rosie. Tom would try to get some reaction from you, but you would lay there, catatonic. Oblivious to the outside world. Maybe coming down for a cup of coffee but then heading straight up back to your room.

Parker was your baby boy, words couldn’t express how you were feeling. A piece of you was missing.

You would walk down stairs and catch a glimpse of all the photographs perched everywhere, showcasing you, Tom, Rosie and Parker’s greatest moments. Everything reminded you of him.

The car keys flooded back memories of first teaching him how to drive. You were so scared. Every parent feels the same but it is hard to relinquish control of your car and put your life in someone else’s hands. You would flinch anytime he broke a little too hard. Always pushing on your imaginary brake.

“Ok, now put the car in drive. Make sure you keep your foot on the brake.” You began, instructing Parker how to drive.

You thought it be best if Tom taught Rosie and you taught Parker how to drive. You didn’t need twice the amount of heart attacks. “Ok, what next?” Parker asked after shifting from park gear to drive gear. Or so he thought.

“Give it a little gas now.” “Ok….” Parker barely touched the accelerator and the car shot backwards.

“PARKER! AAAAHHHHH!” You screamed as he lost control of the car. He slammed so hard on the brake, sending you flying into the dashboard. Your head knocked into the front, instantly creating a splitting headache.

“Oh, mom are you okay?” Parker questioned, preparing himself for your outburst.

“No, switch seats I’m driving home. That’s enough for today. The problem was you were in reverse and you hit the brake way too hard.” You explained with a calm voice, inside you were seething with anger. Pressing your hand to your head to try and subside your head.

“How did I know R stood for reverse, it could have been the R in drive?” Parker mocked sarcastically. “Honey, I love you but your dad is going to teach you from now on.”

You drove home safely and immediately went to the kitchen for an ice pack. Your head was throbbing. Tom greeted you, he was reading in the living room.

“How did the first lesson go?” Tom asked, noticing the scowl with adorned your face.

“Why don’t you ask Parker?” You snapped, pressing the cool ice pack to the soon to be bump on your head.

“Ok.… Parker any idea what your mom is talking about?” Tom inquired, knowing to not press you with anymore questions.

“I may have gone a little too fast and slammed on the brake,” Parker mumbled

“There’s more to that story,” you barked. Of course Parker was leaving the part of going in reverse instead of drive.

“I may have picked the wrong gear…” Parker divulged.

“HE WAS IN REVERSE!! NOT DRIVE!!” You shouted.

“Oh—“ Tom started to say but was cut off by you again.

“And then when he braked, he stopped so hard my head hit the dashboard.” You explaining, throwing your hands up in fury to point at your head. Tom started to chuckle. He tried to suppress a laugh but you were not having it.

“Are you laughing?” You thundered.

“Umm… no.” Tom’s entire expression totally changed as he saw the daggers you were shooting him.

“Tom, it’s not funny. Our son doesn’t know the difference between drive and reverse.”

“Guys, I’m still right here.” Parker chimed in as you spoke of him as if he wasn’t in the room.

“SAY SOMETHING!” You snapped at Tom’s defeating silence.

“Parker be more careful next time.” Tom explained to Parker.

“That’s it? Seriously?… Next time, you drive with him and you will feel my frustration and pain.” You sighed, giving up on this fight.

Life was so much simpler then, you were just trying to raise two wonderful kids. Helping them along the path of life, but there are always detours. You never expected life to have this many bumps. You especially didn’t expect your son to not live a full life. One full of wonder and joy.

Tom had his own way of mourning. He began to relish in his kills, channeling all his emotion into running the mob. Spending night after night bashing in skulls. Coming home with blood drenched clothes.

You understood everyone worked through their grief differently but his way seemed unhealthy. Tom had a few quarrels with anyone associated with the Wilson mob. He blamed them for the death of Parker.

Tom was currently, in his warehouse torturing some poor sap who was a well known capo of the Wilsons. “Tom, give it up. He’s not going to talk,” Haz told Tom as the continued to torture one of Wilson’s soldiers in front of him.

Carter had died along with Parker in the fire and Tom didn’t really know who the new leader was. All he knew is that he still wanted revenge.

“He’s right, you should just kill me. I know to keep my mouth shut unlike your dead son,” the soldier barked, warranting a swift strike to the jaw.

“Don’t you ever fucking mention him again. Your leader killed him. I should do the same to you to receive a smidge of compensation,” Tom snarled as he wrapped his hands around his throat, cutting off his airway completely.

“Tom, come on. He’s not worth it. Let him go,” Haz pleaded as the man started to turn blue.

“Haz, I can’t. How can I let him walk free, when he is the reason Parker is dead?” Tom explained, loosening his hands.

“That was Carter, not some menial soldier. He probably has a family like you,” Harrison talked Tom down.

“You’re free to go,” Haz concluded as he untied the poor man in front of them. He bolted for the door as quick as possible.

“Haz, I can’t do this. I need Parker here. He was supposed to be doing this. Not me… I feels unreal how much I miss him,” Tom cried.

“I know. We all miss him.”

“I couldn’t even protect my own son. Do you get that? And this can’t be the end. I can’t just move on, knowing I’m supposed to bury him tomorrow,” Tom swore.

“Tom, it will get better,” Harrison consoled him.

“How? I can’t just have an open ended statement. I need a solution. Something to fix this ache in my heart. How can I make this pain go away?” Tom pleaded.

“Tom, there is no answer. You just have to try and work through your grief and eventually move forward.”

“You know, Parker asked me the same thing right after Charlotte died. He needed the pain of her death to be lifted from his shoulders. I told him he needed time, but I lied. I knew he could never move on. That this would stick with him for years to come. That’s how I feel right now. There is no remedy except trying to make those bastards pay. Can you let me do that?” Tom exclaimed.

“Tom, I… yes, I can. Only because I know that is what you need right now. Someone to have your back. And I promise I always will.” Harrison tried to comfort his grieving friend but it was hard. Hard to explain to Tom that it only seemed like his world was ending.

That night Tom came into your shared room looking half dead. He had black eye and bruises that littered all over his body. From that moment you knew you both couldn’t keep living like this. You couldn’t keep shoving down your feelings and refusing to face the world, same with Tom but instead of shutting people out the was instigating fights left and right.

“Tom, I need to talk to you,” you sighed as Tom entered the room

“Yes, baby. Anything. I’m just happy to hear your voice,” Tom replied, surprised you were speaking to him. This was his first verbal conversation with you in days.

“We need to make a change, we can’t keep living like this. It isn’t healthy,” you began but was faced with a heart broken Tom.

“Y/N, don’t say that please,” Tom pleaded.

“Tom, we aren’t moving forward. We’re stuck.”

“No, Y/N we can move on from this. Please don’t leave me.”

“What? Tom, I would never. I need you more than you need me,” you questioned.

“Seriously doubt that. Baby please don’t scare me like that again. If I don’t have you. I don’t have anything,” Tom whispered as he came to your side, wrapping his arms around you.

“Tom, you’ll always have me. But what I was meaning to talk about is, I think you need to step away from the mob for a while. You aren’t dealing with losing Parker healthily. Killing people for sport doesn’t help process your pain.” You said, trying to fight back the tears.

“Y/N, I’m not ready to accept it. He can’t be gone. Our son can’t be gone,” Tom cried out.

“Tom, I’ve been feeling the same way. Instead of working through our grief together, we’ve been fighting our own battles and it is doing more damage than good. I’m drowning here, I need you. I need you next to my side to help me through this because I wake up most mornings and have thoughts that I should never think about. Like I don’t want to live this life anymore or live at all.”

“Love, I didn’t know. Y/N, I don’t ever want you feeling that way.”

“I know but I don’t want to feel this way either. We need to get away. Eventually far from the mob, maybe travel like you always wanted to,” you sniffled, wiping away tears.

“Y/N, you know I want that but, I can’t just leave. Our life is here,” Tom explained.

“I’m not saying now. But I can’t live out my days in this house, all I see is him and everything that we’ve lost. I can’t do it anymore. It’s killing me. Don’t you see that? I need to know that we will have our happy ending somewhere other than here. Once Rosie has graduated. In three years, we leave. Please give me that, you pleaded.

“Y/N, I promise. In 3 years we can start our happily ever after.” Tom agreed. You finally had a date in mind. You needed to find happiness somewhere else that wasn’t tainted with Parker’s memory.

Everyone was suffering, Rosie however was very good at hiding it. She was the rock when Parker passed. She knew if the roles were reversed, Parker would be there for everyone.

She threw herself in the mob and other aspects, refusing to let herself break down like the rest of her family. She was mostly consoling Henry. Henry had a hard time adjusting to life without his best friend. He tried to be strong for Rosie but nights she would find him crying himself to sleep.

“Are you coming to bed?” Rosie asked as Henry was held up in living room.

“I don’t think so just yet, I have to finish this,” Henry sighed in frustration, while lounging on the couch.

“What is it?” Rosie asked, coming over to snuggle with him.

“Parker’s eulogy. Did you finish your’s?”

“Umm, yeah I did.” Rosie responded, in reality she hadn’t even thought about it. Planning on making it up as she went tomorrow.

“It’s just killing me. To actually think of him as gone, especially because of tomorrow. I’m not ready to say goodbye,” Henry cried, trying to fight back tears.

“I know. I miss him too,” Rosie responded. Henry started breaking into a fit of sobs and Rosie moved to comfort him. “It’s okay, I’m here.”

“Why are you not sadder? I haven’t once seen you break down, like everyone else,” Henry sniffled.

“I don’t know, maybe I just went through the stages of grief quicker. I’ve already accepted it.”

“Ok well, glad you aren’t as sad as me. Then we would have two blubbering messes. I know this probably a huge turn off,” Henry muttered, stopping to blow his nose. She chuckled in response but Rosie knew something was off. She shed a few tears looking at the building blazing that night but she hadn’t cried since.

Quickly changing the subject to not seem like a heartless wrench she asked. “What are you writing about? Can I have a sneak peek?”

“That’s the hard part, I was trying to think of a story about Parker and I’s friendship but I keep coming up blank. Either he wasn’t actually my best friend or I’ve just repressed all memories about him.”

“Oh baby—,“

“It’s ok. I’m okay.… I’m sorry Roo, but could you help me?”

“Of course, what do you have so far?” “I have the title “Parker’s eulogy,” and that’s it,” Henry said, reading off the words written on the paper he had been staring at for an hour.

“Oh okay, well. Maybe you should talk about a funny story between the two of you.”

“Ok, I have one. Once upon a time…”

“Henry, you can’t start a eulogy with once upon a time.”

“You didn’t let me finish, once upon a time I met this boy and he had the most adorable, and at the same time, beautiful sister. She is so perfect in so many ways. I grew hopelessly in love with her. To this day I still am.”

“Aww, as much as I love that story it barely mentions Parker.”

“Roo, it’s too hard. I can’t sit here and reminisce all the times we spent together. I can’t write down stories that I’ve already lived. I can’t tell them to others and start referring to him as a ‘was’ and not a ‘is’. I’m not capable of telling the story of how one year where both our families went skiing, Parker and I snuck on a black diamond slope without permission and both ended up with a broken leg. Or the story of how I knew Parker and I would be best friends forever, I shouldn’t be the only one telling it, he should be here too. It’s not fair. Why could’ve it been me?”

“Henry, don’t say that. I don’t know what I’d do without you. But that seems like a good anecdote, write about that.”

“Rosie, you don’t get it. I can’t, I physically can’t do it… I’m sorry but I don’t understand why you aren’t sad. It’s weird. My best friend is dead and the weird part is that HE WAS YOUR BROTHER and you don’t even seem the least bit bothered by it,” Henry thundered, his sad voice morphing into an accusatory one. “Sorry, I was just trying to help…. I’ll see you tomorrow, night.” Rosie finished quickly excusing herself without so much as a goodnight kiss. She knew Henry was going through something but he didn’t have to take it out on her. She quickly made her way to bed and waited for the next day to come.

The day no one was actually prepared for.

The day of Parker’s funeral. Everyone’s final goodbye to your son.

Everyone managed to dress appropriately, in all black to symbolize your mourning. The day however was rather beautiful, a bright blue streaked across ever corner of the sky. Not a single cloud in sight, which was near impossible thing in London. Parker would’ve loved a day like this. For one he wouldn’t be at a funeral, especially not his own. He would be at the beach or going for a bike ride under the gorgeous sun.

The weather kind of taunted you. How dare the day be beautiful the day you bury your son. You knew it was silly but it felt like a cosmic joke of some sorts.

People started gathering at the cemetery. Nikki, Dom, Harry, Sam and Paddy were already there to help you and everyone else get through that day.

Nikki was mostly concerned with helping Rosie. She knew you had been a little checked out lately, no fault of your own, you were grieving. Nikki just wanted to make sure Rosie was dealing with her emotions, not shoving them aside.

“Rosie, I understand if the eulogy will be too hard. I can read it for you,” Nikki offered, catching a glance of Rosie going over he eulogy underneath a tree. “No, it’s ok. I should be the one to do it,” Rosie exclaimed.

“Parker would understand. All your emotions couldn’t be more valid. Have you allowed yourself to cry over him yet?” “Don’t worry I did. Odd question though, thought you’d be wanting me to be strong. I have been for everyone else.” “Rosie, you don’t have to with me. I’m here for you, flower.”

“I’m fine grandma, I should check on mom.”

“It’s okay, I’ll send Harry,” Nikki concluded, grabbing her phone to shoot Harry a text.

“Mom, I gonna get Y/N to eat something” Harry said, calling out to Nikki.

“Really, how?” “I came prepared. Granted it is only chocolate but baby steps. How’s Rosie? Is she freaking out about the eulogy?”

“She says she can handle it. I believe her. I just don’t know where that girl got all her strength. Certainly not from us.”

“I have a clue…” Harry explained, his eyes wandering to you sitting in the front row.

“Come on, the proceedings are about to start.” Nikki said, pulling her son to meet everyone else, atop the small hill.

The person officiating the ceremony was standing behind a chestnut colored casket, about to be lowered into the ground. There were 3 chairs, for you, Tom, and Rosie. Everyone else stood as they witnessed Parker be lowered into his final resting place.

Tears manage to fall throughout the entire day, but they came more frequently as Rosie stood up to deliver her eulogy. Rosie somberly walked near the casket, passing the dozens of roses on top. She was clutching to her note cards, her guideline to the hardest goodbye ever.

“My brother was the greatest person I ever knew. He had already dealt with so much loss, it is unfair that we are gathered here today to mourn him. I’ve been trying to think of what to say, maybe an amusing anecdote or embarrassing story. Maybe one where he demonstrated bravery. But I think I’ll just say what all of us having been thinking. It feels unreal that he is gone. He was my twin and I can honestly say not having him beside me, feels like a piece of me is missing.” Rosie began, fighting back the urge to cry.

“He would always manage to bring a smile to my face even the darkest of times. I’ve celebrated every birthday with him, every school event, my entire life with him. We were supposed to be the same age till the end of time together. I miss him more than I can bare but we have a chance to honor him and not mourn, it is what he would have wanted. My brother was always there for me, especially at my weakest. From carrying me into the house after I fell on my tricycle and skinned my knee to comforting me with cupcakes and ice cream after a break up. We all need that person in our lives. And Parker was my anchor, my savior and my best friend. If you have that person now, please give them a reminder of how much you love them. Parker and I both know I should I’ve said more often, he the same. I’m sorry P. And with this flower, I finally say goodbye to my guide post, my better half, my brother. We will always miss you.” Rosie finished and quickly wiped the tears that had fallen with the back of her hand.

She glanced over at you, bailing into Tom’s shoulder. Her words moved you to a whole other level of grief. This whole time you had been grieving for yourself. It’s not selfish, but you realized just how bad everyone else was hurting.

After the funeral, everyone made it back to the manor for the reception. Hors d’oeuvres made their way around to guests, conveniently managing to skip you. Harry was still getting on your nerves, hoping you’d eat something.

Harry would constantly bring food beneath your nose, waving an assortment of healthy snacks and candy in front of your face. He was determined to get you to eat something even if chocolate melted in his suit pockets.

“Hey, Y/N/N. How are you holding up?” Harry asked, finding you staring blankly into space. “I’ve definitely been better,” you responded, chuckling at your current state.

“Y/N, can you please eat something?” Harry asked, shoved food in your face. “I’m fine, thank you though,” you blatantly stated, probably for the tenth time.

“Come on, I have your favorite,” Harry smirked. “You have MnM’s?” you quipped, your ears perking up.

“Yes…”

“Ok give them to me.” You nearly lunged to grab the bag from his hands. In truth you had been starving yourself, you were hungry but couldn’t find the will to eat. Sweets were sure better than the fancy finger food your cook was serving.

Everyone else seemed to be within their own world. Tom had immediately gone back to talking shop, more like who are we gonna kill next week. People seemed to disappear, one in particular, Rosie. You asked Henry, to try and find her. He scoured the house in search of her and eventually found her in Parker’s room. For days the door had been locked, no one wanted to confront the reality of his bed not being slept in or his clothes not worn. It would reaffirm that he is gone and it was going to take a long time to heal.

“Rosie? You in here?” Henry whispered, knocking softly on the door. It creaked opener evening a distraught Rosie, crying on her bed.

Tears streamed down her face as she croaked out, “Hi.”

“Oh, Rosie,” Henry consoled as he moved to embrace her. She broke into a fit of sobs.

“He’s gone. He said he was right behind me,” Rosie looked up, with puffy red eyes.

“Shhh, it’s ok. I’m here,” Henry said, moving to bring her in his arms.

“I should’ve never left him behind. I keep blaming myself. If I never left him, he would still be here.”

“Roo, baby. You can’t do that.”

“I know, I know but I can’t do this. I’m not ready for him to be gone,” Rosie cried, into Henry’s suit. Tears never bothered to stop coming. She completely broke with him, all the pain and grief she had been hiding was now in the spotlight. Rosie wasn’t ready for a goodbye, none of you were.

Everyone eventually came to the same conclusion, that all the scars in your heart will heal with time. Even though the sadness never fades, you learn to grow with it.

Guns, Glamour and Goodfellas Masterlist

Taglist: @dummiesshort @thenoddingbunny-blog @adriannauni @allthisfortommy @bi-lmg @quaksonhehe @housepartyprotocol

[pineapple-lover-boy]

Cursed Child Could’ve Been Better and Here’s Why:

Part 1?

Hate the Cursed Child. The play is a good play on its own but it doesn’t match up with Harry Potter as much as it should’ve, we all know this. But I want to present some ideas on why Delphini COULD have been the coolest villain ever and how she could work (plus a few extra improvements over all):

Main point against her is that Voldy couldn’t have children cause he split his soul. How about this: he could have children, but they end up having a fractured soul as well. They are sickly beings.

With the live potion conception, or as I like to call it “Merope r@ping Tom Riddle”: because of the love potion conception Voldy couldn’t feel love. That could work for Delphi too except to a less degree because she was most likely made from consent (Bellatrix would obviously say HELL YES and she definitely couldn’t sneak one on Voldy). She could still not understand love but she can kind of feel platonic/familial love, again, still not being able to understand it which can cause her to become overwhelmed and set up some sympathetic and angsty scenes for her

Voldy would never do the do, ever: Maybe not, but let’s remember that this is just fanfiction from two guys that JK signed off on. I could see him having a kid on the rarest occasion though. Having children only builds his future empire and if he still hasn’t won the wizarding world by the time they can do decent magic he’s at least got himself a new recruit. Plus we know and he knows that he’s strong, his magic is strong. Bellatrix’s magic is strong. This guy is basically magical H1tler so he is probably down for some experimentation between two very powerful wizards. And having a baby while in the middle of a war isn’t that far off. Literally every person in Harry’s year was born during a year when Voldy was obviously winning. And to have a child during the war as a safe goat isn’t a bad idea for someone like Voldy. Yes he is prideful and thinks that no one can defeat him but it was only a few years after he came back. Harry still defeated him as a baby through powers unknown to him. He may think he’s the best but there had to be at least one seed of doubt in his mind.

“What about the story? It’s trash, and Delphi only makes it worse!” I hear you say. Well here are some improvements I’ve thought of:

1. No time turners. JK specifically destroyed them for plot hole reasons. Cursed Child is a plot hole in itself while using them

2. Have it center around Delphi rebuilding her fathers empire instead of trying to bring him back. If Delphi is anything like her father then she’s smart enough to know that time travel only complicates things

3. Because of the live thing I mentioned before, have Delphi have some feelings. Yes her father couldn’t live and her mother was crazy, go off of that. Have her find out how dysfunctional they both were and have her ask herself “if they were so insane and failed, is it really smart for me to be doing this?” Have her feel something towards Albus and Scorpius, a sisterly feeling towards them. Have them convince her in the end that what she’s doing is wrong and have her completely brake down. Make her a relatable human being that just wants to make her parents proud because that was the only reason for her to be brought to that Earth.

4. Make it a book. Listen, having it as a play is fine but having it as a book first I feel fleshes out that characters more and then when we really know them we could have a play. Most plays are based off of books or movies because they want to see the characters break down in song or have the conversations in front of them but if you want to make the Harry Potter fans happy than please make it a book first. It doesn’t even need to be a series.

5. Let Harry be a loving father. Seriously. How could they mess this up? He was an abused child by his only guardians after his parents died. There’s no way in hell he’s gonna say something bad and then not immediately take it back. It’s ok to make him have mistakes and misunderstandings as a parent, after all they’re probably still suffering tons of trauma after 19 years, but to not have him feel sorry right at that moment is an insult to Harry and what he went through.

6. Keep Draco’s redemption arc. It was actually good. Probably the best thing in the play.

7. Show how the world is crumbling under Delphi’s destruction. Don’t go to alternate realities to show it, cause we know that they haven’t happened yet and can be fixed. It creates more tension because how is this going to be fixed? They’ve probably just finished making everything alright in the wizarding world and now it all goes to shit again. Show the desperation in the characters. Their want to get things right again. Not just some “oh no this is terrible! We have to fix it!” Type of stuff. That’s why a book is the best format, you can show these tiny details.

8. Stop the queer baiting.

9. Show how the older characters are still suffering from their trauma, in different degrees, and how they deal with that while taking care of children. Show them trying not to have ptsd flashbacks or panic attacks in front of their children, show it actually happening.

10. Don’t have Rose be a total asshole. Have her be a bit wary around Scorpius but ultimately trusting him because she trusts her cousins decision. Have have be the new Golden trip but in their own ways. Mesh the original trios ways into their own: Albus has the brave leader (like Harry), Scorpius as the heart but has still got plenty of brain (mesh of Ron and hermione), and have Rose be another strong and brave leader while also being a bit of the heart too. (Which can cause some tension between her and Albus cause they both want to lead). Also mesh some of the other characters too. Scorpius can be like Neville, unsure of himself and how brave he can be but having a moment of confidence where he knows he’s capable. Have Albus be be as open minded and spirited as Luna, let him have moments where people look at him weird for some less than logical ideas but him not caring. Have Rose be as competitive and fiery as her aunt, Ginny, don’t make her be snobbish but let her have a temper that makes people say “wow!” instead of rolling their eyes in annoyance. However these characters are portrayed, let them be similar to the multitude of trios in the second generation, but different enough that they are their own people.

That’s all I have for now. Please tell me any other ideas or critiques, I know there is a lot more. I genuinely think that they could’ve had the character of Delphini and made it work but they just made her a Great Value version of her father who uses unconventional methods of getting him back. I honestly loved the character of Delphini when I first read the script and I still do, she just needs to be fleshed out more and have a better story. Also having her be sick as a part of being birthed from a guy that had barely any soul could be and interesting plot point too. Her being unsure coupled with the fact that it’s hard for her to even live normally could contribute to the fact that she can’t keep on fighting anymore. Anyways, thanks for reading this, I know it’s long. And please tell me your thoughts!

[downondilaudid]

High as a Kite

After a stressful case reader unwinds in her own unique way, unfortunately, the BAU is called in on another case. Spencer doesn’t seem too fond of the reader’s stress reliever.

A/N: This is very poorly edited. I just got into a massive fight with a few friends. So now I’m very sad, and just wanna sleep. But fuck them. Like that one vine says, I don’t need friends, they disappoint me. Seriously, FUCK THEM. I still love them doe, i have too, they’re the only friends i have.

Oh also, I wrote this in first person, instead of my usual second person. Let me know if you like it or not! <3

Requested: Yes

Prompts: None

Word Count: 2.9K

Warnings: (Unprotected)Penetrative Sex, a DASH of angst, drug use, let me know if I missed anything.

“He rarely smoked, but once in a while, like now, when his world had been shaken, his woman nearly killed in front of his eyes, and he’d watched a house consume a man and spit him out, he figured a drag or two were appropriate.”

― Christine Feehan, Safe Harbor

Relaxing after a case was one of my favorite things on the planet. Especially when it ended well, I had been able to watch as the little girl who had been stolen from her family, ran to her parents, her little arms wrapping around their legs. Seeing the love and adoration in the parent's eyes as the wept and held her made me want to have a child of my own.

Spencer and I had been together for a little over a year, but I doubt either of us are ready for children. Our job alone is stressful enough, in fact, it’s how we met. I worked as a technical analyst under Penelope Garcia. I will say my job wasn’t as strenuous as Spencer’s, but it’s not exactly ideal to look at dead bodies all day.

We all have our own peculiar ways of unwinding, Spencer loves to sit and read a few books, Hotch heads home to spend time with Jack, and Emily is always down for a drink. I, on the other hand, would much rather smoke a bowl than read a book. It was my own way of unwinding and allowing my brain to cleanse itself of the horrors of the world.

My pink pipe was packed with weed, a matte black lighter in my hand. The weed burned in the small bowl, crisping to a dark black. My finger released the carb of the pipe a couple of times, allowing the smoke to fill my lungs.

The haunting voice of Lana Del Rey filled the room. Her voice alone is smooth as honey, but listening to her while high is an ethereal experience. I could only imagine what Spencer would do if he could see me now, probably ramble off the statistics of marijuana addiction. But I could definitely say I wasn’t addicted, it was just an easy way to relax.

I took another hit, watching as the smoke tumbled from my lips. My stomach rumbled, causing me to giggle lightly, here come the munchies. Usually, I didn’t have the biggest sweet tooth, but when I’m high I can’t get enough sugar.

My hands pulled open the pantry, hips swaying lightly to the music.

Suddenly the music was gone, replaced by an annoying buzzing, “Ugh, you’re fucking kidding.” I groaned. I let the pantry fall shut, making my way over to where my phone sat. I had an inkling who was calling me, but every ounce of my body was praying I was wrong. Unfortunately, I was not, as I had one text from Hotch and a missed call from Spencer.

As if on cue, my phone buzzed in my hand, Spencer’s name illuminating the phone. Quickly I answered the call, pulling the phone up to my ear. “Hiya Spence.” 

“You get the call?” Spencer questioned, his voice cracking slightly, it was obvious he hadn’t used it in a while. He had probably been reading ever since he got home.

I giggled lightly at the sound of Spencer’s voice, taking a moment to admire the perfect way it croaked. “Mhm, can you pick me up?” 

There was no immediate response, it was obvious there was something off, Spencer could tell. I never asked him to drive me anywhere, I was always the one driving. Especially due to Spencer’s hatred of automobiles. 

“But don’t you usually pick me up?” he questioned. 

“Spencer, that last case… I’m literally the definition of exhaustion, can you please, just this once?” I was hoping that with the use of his full first name, he would understand the seriousness of my question. There was no way I was driving to work, with Spencer in the car, while high. 

Speaking of, I still had zero idea how I was going to act sober in a room of profilers, granted, I had a lot of practice of acting sober in front of people, just not at work. Unfortunately for me, the best two words to describe myself while high were, giggly and horny. Oh, and hungry, who doesn’t get the munchies?

Spencer sighed on the other end of the line, “Of course, Y/N.” He paused for a moment, a slight hesitation in his voice with his next words. “Is-is everything okay?” 

“Oh, totally, the case just got to me, that's all!” My reply was all but convincing, it didn’t help the awkward silence made me giggle, which I quickly stifled with my hand. But to Spencer, I’m sure it sounded like a muffled sob. At least he’d buy it, right?

… 

I hopped into the car, looking too giddy to be dealing with another case, “hey.” 

Spencer turned his head to look at me, his eyebrows furrowed slightly, and his tongue peeking out between his pink lips. “Y/N are you sure you’re okay?”

I rolled my eyes before playfully glaring at Spencer, “yes, now drive, baby.” I reached out, grabbing the gear shift, and shifting the car into drive. 

The car rolled slightly before a startled Spencer slammed his foot on the brake, “Y/N what the- my foot wasn’t even on the brake! Do you know how many accidents are caused a year due to pedal error? Sixteen thousand, and that’s just in the U.S.”

I know it was inappropriate, but during the whole lecture he was giving me I couldn’t tear my eyes away from his hands. They were so perfect, long and thick, the number of times that I’ve come undone on those hands is immeasurable. I shifted in my seat before meeting his eyes. Honestly, I hadn’t comprehended a word he said, something about cars?

Spencer shifted the car back into park, turning in his seat to lean towards me. His eyes scanned me up and down, and not in a good way. “You’re acting strange. You’re overly bubbly, especially considering we have another case. You aren’t thinking rationally-”

A gasp left my body once I realized what he was doing, “Spencer Walter Reid, are you profiling me? We agreed not to do that!”

Despite my yelling he kept speaking “and you were too focused on the movement of my hands to retain a single word I told you.” He reached into his pocket, pulling out his phone. 

“Spencer, what the fuck are you-ow!” A blinding light clouded my vision, causing me to recoil further into my seat. 

A scoff left Spencer’s mouth as he turned off the flashlight. “You’re high,” he stated, “what did you take?”  

“I’m not-” I quickly stopped my sentence once I saw the glare Spencer was sending me. “Okay, I just smoked a little weed. Seriously, it wasn’t a lot.”

Spencer unlocked his phone, pressing a few buttons before opening the “W-what are you doing?” I asked, although I already knew the answer. 

“Calling Hotch” Spencer replied, his voice even yet stern. It was somehow scarier than his occasional outburst.

“What? No, Spencer!” I reached over the console, latching my hands onto his phone, before pulling back. Sadly, the phone stayed rooted in his large hands, and with a swift tug, he had the phone back in his grasp. 

Spencer glared harsh daggers at me, before looking back down, and continuing to type on the phone. “Y/N, you’ve already pushed me far enough. Sit down and keep your mouth shut.” 

I fell back into my seat, pouting and crossing my arms childishly. The faint sound of ringing broke the silence, stopped by the barely audible voice of Hotch over the phone. 

“Hotch, Y/N can’t come in, she’s sick. I think she has a fever.” The lie tumbled easily out of his lips. 

My head whipped towards him, my eyebrows raised in amusement. “Thanks, I will.” Spencer ended the conversation, this time setting his phone in the cupholder in the console. 

I giggled lightly, “what would I do without you to save my ass?” 

He didn’t respond, instead putting the car in drive, this time with his foot on the brake. Silence filled the car, Spencer opting to focus on the road, and me fidgeting with the hem of my skirt. 

“Spencie, are you mad at me?” I asked, resting an elbow on the console between us. 

It was obvious he was frustrated, I would be too, but how was I supposed to know we’d get called in on a case? “Yes, Y/N” he answered, his words punctuated and his jaw clenching, accentuating his razor-sharp jawline. 

There was something about angry Spencer that sent shockwaves to my core, leaving me squirming against the leather of the car. Eh, what the hell, might as well go for it, I can just blame it on the cannabis. 

My arm reached across the console, my hand landing on the top of Spencer’s thigh. I watched him visibly jump at my touch, he obviously wasn’t expecting it. “Are you sure it’s just anger?” 

He sighed loudly, one of his hands leaving the steering wheel to remove my own from his leg.

…  

“Please Spencer, just really quick? It’d help you relieve some stress!” I cried as I walked through the door. 

Another angry sigh left Spencer’s mouth, he seemed to be doing that a lot. “Y/N, you’re under the influence, I don’t want to take advantage of you.”

I almost laughed at his statement, it was perfectly logical of him to think that, and utterly sweet. But he was my boyfriend, my love, I would fuck him in whatever state I’m in. “Spence, I can promise you you’re not taking advantage of me. We’ve had sex countless times, I’d have sex with you even if I was sober, have you seen you?” I paused for a moment before adding onto my sentence, breaking the slight tension with humor, “yourself, not you, that doesn’t sound right.” 

Spencer chuckled to himself, rolling his eyes as he reached for his belt. “Hell yes!” I cried as I began to undo the buttons of my blouse, quickly shedding it. I could’ve just left the blouse on, but Spencer was a tits man through and through. 

As soon as I heard the clinking of his belt colliding with the floor, I ambushed him, immediately letting my lips find his. The kiss wasn’t rough, nor was it gentle, it was somewhere in between, a perfect balance. I pulled away, biting down lightly on Spencer’s bottom lip. 

My hand slipped into his unzipped pants, palming him lightly. It was the most heavenly sight on earth to watch his head fall back, and a low moan tumble from his lips. “Fuck, Y/N” 

Nodding my head I giggled, “yes, please fuck Y/N.”

Spencer tilted his head back up, laughing lightly at my comment.

I pulled away from him, grabbing the hem of my skirt and shimmying it up over my hips. Spencer’s eyebrows raised, a look of amusement on his face. “Please” I begged.

“Alright, turn around, over the table,” Spencer commanded, his voice low and demanding.

A giggle passed my lips as I turned around, making my way over to the table. My top half pressed against the table, my body resting against my forearms. I could hear Spencer’s footsteps as he crossed the room, stopping behind me. His large hands wrapped around my hips, pushing my skirt higher up my body. “Do you know how irresponsible it was of you to try and come into work while under the influence?” 

His hand left my hip coming back down onto my backside, the impact causing me to cry out. “Spencer!”

His hand raked up my side, grabbing a fist full of my hair. “I-I didn’t have a choice.” I stuttered out as one of his fingers hooked onto my underwear, pulling them to the side. 

“You did have a choice, you chose not to inform Hotch, leaving me to save your ass. Do you understand how detrimental the consequences could’ve been if something were to go wrong?” Spencer’s fingers ran through my folds, spreading around my arousal. 

“Fuck” I moaned out, using my forearms to push myself back against his hand. “Better hurry this up, Spence, we don’t have long.” Spencer shuffled behind me before I felt the head of his cock brush against my core. “Fine, if you’re so impatient.” He grunted, pulling back on my hair, and pushing his cock into my folds. 

He was quick to set a rough pace, pulling out and pushing back in, using the hand in my hair as leverage to pull me back in time with his thrusts. “Yes, Spencer, fuck,” I groaned out. 

“You know,” Spencer started, pausing to roughly thrust into me, sending my body forward against the table, the edge digging into my thighs. “If you wanted a stress reliever, you could’ve come to me. Sex releases endorphins and other hormones, the same way exercise does. Particularly, oxytocin, commonly referred to as the “love hormone.” 

I moaned against the table, my body beginning to falter as my orgasm approached. “Fuck, Spencer, mhmm, yes.” 

With every thrust, I could feel the strain of Spencer yanking my hair back, which would definitely leave a crick in my neck. But I was enjoying myself too much to tell him to stop. I could practically feel Spencer’s anger with every obscene smack of our sweaty skin. It was what I was hoping for, a good fuck, and for Spencer to be able to release his anger before heading back to the BAU. 

Surprisingly, Spencer released his vice grip on my hair, easing the tension on my neck, allowing my face to fall forward and my cheek to squish against the table. He planted his forearm beside my head, leaning over me so his chest was pressed against my back. “How good would you feel if I allowed you to come right now?” To add to the pleasure, Spencer’s hand resting on my hip wormed its way around my body, two of his long digits beginning to rub circles around my swollen bud. 

A sob racked my body at the added pleasure, and my eyes rolled into the back of my head. I could feel my legs starting to tremble as I held back my release, almost as if my body knew I couldn’t let go until he gave me permission. “Please, please?” I begged.

“Say it. Promise me you’ll come to me next time you need to relieve stress.” Spencer growled, his voice cracking, signaling he was close too. 

The desperate sounds of our moans and the musty smell of sex filled the room, drowning out my senses. I was too lost in the euphoria to reply, instead, I deliriously rutted my hips back as an attempt to feel him deeper. 

Spencer let out a groan before burying his head deep in the crook of my neck, moaning out “promise me, Y/N.” 

“I promise, fuck, please, Spencer?” The words tumbled almost incoherently out of my lips, barely comprehensible. 

Nodding his head against my skin, he placed an open-mouthed kiss to my neck before moaning out “come, come with me Y/N.” 

And just like that, I was sent headfirst into a trembling, teeth-clenching orgasm. My back arched, uncomfortably pressing my breasts even further against the table. My vision went white, and my legs threatened to collapse. Spencer had stilled, burying his cock deep in my cunt, lewdly moaning out my name, and a series of various curses. An unfamiliar warmth coursed through my body as he filled me up with his seed. Leaving me to grin like a Cheshire cat, caked in sweat. 

The two of us laid against the table, deep pants leaving both our mouths. Spencer pulled out, tucking himself back in his pants. “Thank you” I giggled, pushing myself up from the table, and shuffling my skirt back down my legs. 

When I turned around I was met with the sight of a sweaty Spencer, running his hands through his tousled hair. “You look fine, Spence.”

I could tell Spencer was trying his hardest to contain his smile, probably wanting to stay mad at me. But as soon as his eyes met mine, his face broke into a soft smile, my own following suit. I took a step forward, wrapping my arms around his torso, and letting my head rest against his chest. “I love you” I murmured against his shirt. 

His arms wrapped around my back, pulling me closer to him, “I love you too” he replied, placing a kiss to the top of my head.

“Okay, I have to go,” Spencer said, letting his arms fall back to his side.

I pulled back, unwrapping my arms from his body. “Don’t forget your belt,” I nodded towards his belt that was left discarded on the floor in the midst of our frenzy. 

“I have an eidetic memory, Y/N, remember?” Spencer joked, snatching his belt from the floor, and looping it back through his pants. 

Rolling my eyes with a laugh I replied, “that doesn’t mean things can’t slip your mind, Spence.” 

“Actually-” he started.

I cut him off by opening the front door, “bye, have fun, I love you!” 

Spencer laughed, pecking me on the lips before heading out the door, looking over his shoulder to call out, “we’ll talk more about this later, Y/N. Don’t think you’re off the hook just yet.”

“Shit.” I groaned, letting the door fall shut.

Taglist: @pinkdiamond1016 @gubler-squad @garcias-batcave

[vannyvancan]

"mr assassin" Roommate!Shinsou Hitoshi X F!Reader Part 2

Part 2 of your Roommate/Assassin!Shinsou is here! First of all I wanna thank y'all for liking the first part so much! In this part we go deeper in darker theme of it, so just a fair warning.

my masterlist. Hope you have a great day and happy reading!

Tw for : Assassin!Shinsou theme, female reader,  gun usage, slight insecurity, NSFW for the most part on the later chapters, drug usage, corrupt government talk, harrasment

Day five of living with your new roommate. He hadn't shown much of an interest in harming you...

That was swell.

You huffed out a breath of relaxation when the realization hit, but not also that, things weren't as bad as you expected! The thought you'd get a nasty roommate who would leave much more bigger mess than you was on the mind... but he seems to be the one who cleans as well? A welcome surprise indeed.

Shinsou was an enigma, waking up early at five am, neatly sorting his clothing and coming back late at 11 pm, he didn't seem restless, which could only mean he probably has a second accommodation where he rests and eats as well. It also explains why he only had one bag with him which you had decency and never saw what was inside. Besides...

He had given you a glare yesterday when you stared at it for long with those white pupils of his.

Even though he was soft spoken, he always managed to find a way to poke fun at you before he left. Granted, you were quiet surprised when he made you a french toast every morning! He barely knows you, but you were grateful to have found a roommate that in one way or another showed his gratitude. Afterwards, you felt obligation to one up him and return the favour. Now dragging your dear friend out, you giggled at the phone text from Uraraka as she immediately started spewing jokes about your potential 'future' with him.

„What an idiot.“ You grinned to yourself, walking down the street to the meeting place, you were about to go shopping with her, you still had to supply yourself with comfortable winter clothing.

„Y/N!“ Uraraka's voice reached your ears.

„Hey! Long time no see!“

„Very long time indeed!“

Uraraka rushed her step to give you the biggest hug there was. She was the sweetest friend and was always there for you no matter the circumstances. Now both of you dragging yourselves in the clothing store

„You just got off from work right? How was it?“ She asked, looking at time, it was now 5 pm.

„Tiring, its even worse because they fired colleagues before summer so now all of us have extra hour of work.“

„Oh no. But at least you will be rewarded more no? More hours equal more pay.“

„Nope, it's the same job in the end, they just extended work time.“ Frowning at the work contract on the mind, it was a very high chance it will drastically change soon as well.

„It's very... bad.“ You nervously laughed as you walked together.

„One time they fired someone from storage, only to replace them with boss's relative. By law its forbidden, but they made up a name for the new position that does the same job in storage. So it seems valid, but its not.“

„Ah... it happened here as well, but uhm.“ Uraraka started

„Hmm?“

„There's been some disappearances from our parent company, we are having a bit of a rescheduling on our own as well.“ Uraraka nervously chuckled and scratched the back of her head, it was quiet obvious there's been some action going on on her end as well.

„But enough about that, how's Shinsou~?“ She teasingly leaned in and poked her pink cheek.

Your mind shifted to the now roommate, the intimidating figure had you stuttering for a second. Obviously, Uraraka shouldn't of hung out with Mina so often back in college days, because it was so obvious she wanted to pull out some flustering on your end as well. Her curiosity especially hit the peak since she heard your voice hit higher notes when talking about him.

„I-I.. U-um. Okay, fuck! I can't!“ Both of the palms now covered your face to hide the embarrassment.

„Ahah! Is he that hot? You didn't react like that for so long!“

„Shut up!“ You huff out „It's enough that he made a toast for me yesterday, now I don't know how to return the favor. I want to get close to him, but he's unapproachable.“

The brunette put a finger on her lower lip in deep thought.

„Maybe if he's so busy, you can make him little lunches in a box, since he's so busy.“

„Uraraka, that's so childish.“

„It's not! You have to show him your soft side! Poke around, maybe he likes it.“

„My soft side?“

Grimacing as she advised, you were afraid of getting your feelings hurt. Now hesitantly picking up shirts and pants from the shopping stand, you managed to pick decent clothing for the upcoming winter before the prices skyrocket, it was expensive already but you managed to find something cheap. Your eyes trailed to find a plain white scarf, it was really nice quality, and rather cheap, but the sudden thoughts redirected to Shinsou as fingers tried out the material.

Maybe its not a bad idea to try and open up, you'll try but there should be equal effort on his end as well. Now snatching the scarf from the stand, you both bought your things and left the store, suddenly being nudged on the shoulder by the pink cheeked individual, you let out a relieved laughter while walking home for today.

...

„No, no! Please, Spare me!“

„I'm afraid job's a job.“

„No, please! My wife-!“

-SNAP-

„... Operation successful, returning to the main area. Prepare for body disposal.“

„Roger that Mindjack.“

On the broad daylight, Shinsou had eliminated yet another target for today, this time it was a business man whose life spiraled down in gambling addiction, the man who had hired him said he owned too much and knew too much to be kept alive.

Drugs and gambling went hand in hand, it was no different that the client probably had some shady stuff going on on their end as well. Shinsou had to keep his eye open on this one as well.

„Dispatched him quickly?“ Shoto came by side to Shinsou while adjusting dark gloves on.

„Yeah.“

„Good. Let me help you up.“

Several moments later, a truck came by to pick the dead body up, Kirishima's disguise as a trash driver made both of them cringe for a moment, but quickly brushed it off as Shoto and Shinsou threw it away. The cleanup crew should get rid of their traces now, all he has to do is get away as fast as possible from here. Shoto and Shinsou entered in the truck and drove in silence.

„You blocked the spot quiet nicely Shoto! Made a nice clearing for Shinsou to execute.“ Kirishima praised

„I merely blocked the parking lot. I don't see it being worth a mention.“

„Man, but missions like these always for newbies rely on stalking and timing. And this was perfect.“

„Nothing is perfect in this line of business.“ Shinsou ripped off his gloves and cracked his own neck to relieve tension. „Karma will hit you back hard if you don't know what you are doing.“

„Yeah yeah, it isn't very manly if you're in it just for cash, I mean... I'm rooting for justice and y'all, don't go thinking I am blind to what you guys are doing.“

Shoto and Shinsou fell silent. It was hard to swallow the truth, the car ride to the safe house wasn't long, soon Kirishima hit the brakes and came to a stop to the small abandoned storage house on the outskirts of the city. Shoto jumped out to take care of the body while Shinsou assisted with it, after they were done, Kirishima checked the contract for the job well done and handed the payment. A block of dollar bills now in their hands, the digital transfer of money would raise eyebrows in eyes of banks, so the money transfer was best if it was physical.

„Here you go boys! Boss says that the next contract is gonna be handed out tomorrow, you are free for the rest of the evening.“

„Tomorrow already?“ Shinsou asks.

„Yeah, what did you mean with that question?“

„I was thinking of looking into the client of the previous contract. Do some research and possibly eliminating him.“

Kirishima clicked with his tongue while Shoto huffed out and fiddled with the block of money in his hands.

„Sorry man. Solo contracts wont get you money, and gateways like us wont help you since we put too much at stake. You are on your own if you are gonna kill someone who is off the list.“ Kirishima explained

„Why would you even do it?“ Shoto asked, „Its not like the guy did you anything bad.“

Before Shinsou could answer Kirishima pat his back two times before turning on his heel to store his equipment away and head home himself for today.

„Mindjack has always been like that, even before you started working with. He sorta goes off on his own at times, seeking who needs killin' and who doesn't. That's why we hired you Shoto.“

„Can't blame me for doing what I think its right.“ Shinsou lowered his head, „All I need is time, That's why I was taken aback when a new contract was announced for tomorrow.“

„Alright alright, Mr. Assassin. You'll get your time. Someday. For now, this handsome manly man is going to go home for tonight! I'm going to get myself some hot bath.“

„See you Red. I'll be going too, Goodnight Mindjack.“

The departure was short, Shinsou took his bag and changed clothes before heading back, the bad smell could of easily rub off on him and he didn't want you to start speculating things. Even though he mostly ends his victim's lives in a way where no blood can be shed, it was a close call when she started eyeing the bag yesterday. He hated it, but he had already planned out way's to kill the roommate he was living with for any situation if she found out his true work.

'I don't need any of you to help me in my solo hunt.' He thought to himself, putting his black leather jacket on and helmet, he checked out his surroundings before revving up his bike and driving away.

The evening was busy as people were going back from work, it was 6 pm after all and he was stressing out on the fact that he will have to see his roommate. Maybe he could take a spin? Or start investigating on his own, but he didn't have time, he needed it. Rumbling of the bike eased tension he had from the committed crime, but only barely. As he came to a red light he slowed down and realized he was shaking badly, he knew it was not only from the setting sun and chilling air slowly creeping in, but also of stress. The realization that he might get caught always hit him harder after it settled in his mind. He inhaled deeply and eyed the nearby passengers. His eyes land on a woman in distance he never thought he would run into.

It was you, and you have been on your way to the flat with things you've gotten. The fact you saved up on the flat made you relax and indulge in the little shopping spree with Uraraka and groceries. You smiled from ear to ear nevertheless the tiredness creeping on you from the day.

„Mm...“ You sighed and rolled your shoulders.

„Maybe I'll make the thing she told me.“

You honestly looked like a happy child after realizing now that you have a roommate who pays for half of the expenses, you have extra cash to buy for things and make food at home. It wasn't a big deal to go out and buy something since it was cheap to buy a box of instant meal, but you wanted to cook your own food for a long time now. As you looked in the grocery bag and already beginning to think of the recipe you'd think for it, you suddenly bumped onto a stranger who didn't quiet follow his surroundings either. The harsh impact almost made you fall behind flat on your backside, but you managed to find balance. 'How rude-!' you thought.

„Ah-! S-sorry! I didn't mean to bump into you sir-„

„Watch where you are stepping wench-! I swear, women like you need to fucking know their place and stay at home.“

Excuse me?

Since when did this idiot have any right to find you to get his frustrations out?

You frowned at his sentence, knowing better not to engage with a random incel on the streets at evening hours, whose breath reeked of beer and bad hygiene, you decided to clutch your bags and pass by him hurriedly.

„Don't fucking ignore me!“

„Hey! Let me go!“

The man captures your wrist harshly and doesn't let go, now pulling you towards himself, he makes your belongings and your body stumble forward. His other hand wrap around your waist and starts dragging you along with him. Trying to shake yourself away only resulted in him recapturing you. He started laughing and you only now realize he quiet probably meant to bump into you.

He was trying to kidnap you-

„I said you are a bitch! Now you'll know your place-!“

„Let me go!“

Closing your eyes, the strong grip bruised your wrist and you yelped in pain, Your eyes veiled with tears as his disgusting sweaty hands found their way on your thighs to try and attempt to carry you, but the hold that was on you was suddenly broken free and a strong impact of a punch made the man fall flat on the ground. You were quiet sure you heard something broke as well.

„Agh! Son of a-!“

The adrenaline spiked in your veins and you immediately snapped out of it to see what was going on. Another hand rested on you almost protectively, you raised head to see a dark dressed figure that was very familiar. You were quiet shocked to find Shinsou held you close to his chest, wasn't he supposed to work until very late? You hear his quickened heartbeat and deep breathing as he gazed into the eyes of an attacker. Clutching onto him, you immediately felt more sorry for the drunken individual that had attacked you. Hooded eyes with dark eye bags were visible with blood rush, he stared down at his victim like a prey.

„I honestly can't believe how uncool you are, attacking a woman.“ He tilted his head on the side „Piss off before I do anything worse.“

The drunkard scrambled to his feet, he held onto his nose, groaning in pain inflicted by just his one punch.

„You fucker-! You broke my fucking nose!“

He charged again at Shinsou and you. This time, Shinsou quickly dispatched him by a high kick in his stomach, stealing all the air from his lungs. He hunched over and fell flat face forward, deeming him now unconscious. Your mouth went agape at his form, even though there were no visible passerby's, the drivers could certainly call police and at any moment and both of you would get caught.

„Shinsou!“ You panicked, finally reacting at the scene.

„Come on, lets get the hell out from here. He's bad news.“ He pat your shoulders and helped you scramble the bags that were on the ground.

He led you to climb on his bike that you were quiet hesitant to get on at first, he didn't let you get acquainted as the time was limited and you let out a noise of protest at first.

„We have no time, grab onto me.“ He revved up his bike and it rumbled.

„You just gonna escape like that!?“ You asked „What gives he's not gonna blame it on us? The police-“

„Police is not going to do shit.“ He glared at you „Unless you want to call them right now and deal with this sort of mess on Thursday evening, be my guest.“

You whined again, thinking thoroughly on his words you knew he was right so you followed his orders. If anything Shinsou was a witness if both of you ever end up getting caught. Holding onto the bags in your hand, you decided it was a better option to leave. Now climbing on you adjusted yourself in back of seat, the view in front of you were of his back, now starting to get illuminated by the street lights. He smelled nice, despite it being closed off by the leather jacket, his vibrant purple hair was flattened by the helmet, and you couldn't shake off the thought that you were about to hold him. You let your left hand slip around his stomach while your right one grips his shoulder.

Fuck, he was solid.

The gas made you back up a bit and grip on him tighter as he violently sped forwards to escape the scene. You hid your face in his back and held onto dear life. You weren't acquainted with bike's, most of your life was spent driving in cars and public transport, but you were quiet thankful to have him tell you when to lean on sides as you took turns.

„Just like riding a bicycle“ He claimed.

You relaxed after he talked more about it, there was something about him being calm in this situation made you very thankful. If he hadn't shown up...

Well, you wouldn't like to think about it.

He slowed down and stopped as the lights turned orange, then red, he took this opportunity to check on you. Shinsou leaned back and turned to you.

„You okay?“

„Y-yeah, still a bit shaken up about it. I... think I'll be fine. What about you?“

„I'm good.“ He replied shortly, his curt expression not giving anything else away.

In his mind, there wasn't anything he could do to help, the thought of comforting a victim was very alien to him. He could manage dispatching the person quickly, but he would rather much leave a therapy session to others. There was something about how he emotionally closed off himself that helped him do what he was working for, but it was never in favor when someone needed emotional support, like you right now.

His thought process was interrupted by a white scarf now gently falling around his neck.

„Your facial expression doesn't quiet match your body language Mr. Shinsou. Here, have this, your body is shaking.“

„What is this?“ He asked, tenderly reaching for the soft white fabric and letting the warmth of it settle around his neck.

„Its a scarf... I was planning on giving it to you. You are a good roommate to me.“

His eyes lit up at the realization, his knee was thumping up and down in nervousness from what he had been overthinking about, whats wrong with this woman? Is she going to be the one giving him the therapy session? He better not go soft now. The light turned green and you took a last turn to your place and he parked nearby. Both of you got off and he helped you by giving you a hand and with the bags.

„You didn't have to.“

„That's not true, I had to! I know work's probably putting a lot of strain on you just like mine is, and I know you mean only well, hell, you've been cooking an extra toast just for me.. and now you saved me.“

Both of you came to a stop as you entered the building. You sighed a little bit as words of gratitude escaped you

„And I just want to say.. Thank you."

Wide eyed like a kitten, he seemed so innocent if he didn't act so suspicions all the time. But this time you were so happy on seeing your roommate warming up to you. He was speechless for a solid second, he raised the scarf just a little bit to hide his mouth and nose.

Was he blushing?

"You really think that huh?" He asks, it was a simple question, but it got you stuttering madly and you looked onward, taking big steps as suddenly your flat was the lifeline of a place to be in right now. Shinsou himself didn't want to admit it but looking at you being cheerful after the events set his mind at ease.

"O-of course! A-and don't think that that you are ever a bad person, whoever is telling you bad things at work... They are wrong, because you are actually a really nice person... I think." You said without looking back.

„Now you are just sprouting nonsense.“ He chuckled and followed closely behind.

„Come on! I'm gonna cook us dinner. We are gonna feast.“