#there might be more I haven’t had this card on my home screen long enough

[petrichorium]

Pouty malleus is my everything I’m so serious

[frostedfaves]

Naive (1)

Masterlist

Pairing: demon!Wanda Maximoff x fem!reader

Summary: Of all the humans Wanda has met, you’re suddenly her favorite.

Warnings: 18+ ONLY, dark!fic, demon things™️ (be warned that this shit will get much darker in the future), subtle hand kink (don’t @ me)

A/N: special shoutout to the anon that inspired this fic series, I hope you enjoy this weird combo of AOU x IW Wanda. also if you have any previous knowledge of demons, throw it out the window before you read this because I guarantee that things will not add up here lmao

-

Wanda’s favorite thing about interacting with humans is her effect on them.

Walking through a crowd is fine. She’ll brush a few shoulders and rattle a few unsuspecting adults, flash solid black eyes at kids that either stare or scream. It’s temporary and brings a bit of fun to an otherwise dull day.

The real joy comes from direct contact. Wanda travels miles away from her apartment building, choosing different stores, restaurants and cafés just to keep things interesting. A new cashier each time. She’ll have an air of friendliness about her that isn’t exactly fake; she finds most humans to be charming, despite their fragile minds.

“Will that be all?” Roy--according to his name tag--asks with a grin and Wanda nods in response. “Okay, your total is $21.14. You can just swipe or insert your card in the machine there.”

Wanda inserts her card carefully, complimenting the decor as she waits for the transaction to be completed. After returning it to her wallet, she flashes a soft smile at Roy as he hands her the receipt, purposefully brushing her fingers with his. As his skin makes contact with one of her rings, she notices the goosebumps rising along his arm and hears his breathing pattern change.

“Roy? Everything alright?”

She hears the concerned voice of a coworker as she makes her way to a table to wait for her meal, already seated by the time Roy coughs in an effort to collect himself.

“Yeah, just feeling off I guess. I’ll be fine.”

A chuckle falls from her lips as she watches the poor cashier attempt to return to his previous state of mind, finding the urge to smile and wave when his eyes cut over to her. His voice trembles when he calls her name and he stands as far away as possible when she approaches the counter to grab her order.

“Thanks for everything, Roy.”

Sensing that he’s startled enough without it, she keeps her other tricks hidden in her sleeves and simply walks away, holding her laughter until the doors close behind her. A good meal with a side of human interaction, her absolute favorite.

-

The next day brings Wanda to a bookstore around lunchtime. She takes a minute to browse the aisles, taking an exceptionally long time lingering in the section harboring books on angels and demons. The stereotypes amuse more than upset her like they used to in the beginning.

“Is there anything I can help you with?”

Wanda turns to make eye contact with the employee behind her, about to ask a question for the fun of it when a laugh catches her attention. Her gaze redirects to the café counter straight ahead, and a warm feeling washes over her when she hears the laugh again.

You’re genuinely entertained by the elderly woman purchasing a bagel with exact change, and Wanda manages to catch the end of the conversation as she draws near.

“Safe to say, I haven’t worn the blouse since that day.” She bids you farewell with her bagel and receipt in hand, eyes twinkling as she observes Wanda on her way past. “You have such bright and beautiful hair, dear.”

“Thank you,” Wanda responds with sincerity, attention locked on you while approaching the counter. “Hi.”

“Hey,” you greet her with a voice much calmer than the one you use with most of your other customers. “What can I get you today?”

You watch the orange haired woman turn her head to study the items behind the glass, taking the time to do your own inspection. You admire the dark red jacket that covers most of her torso, gaze lingering on the multiple rings hugging her fingers that seem to be smoothing nonexistent wrinkles in her dress, almost in a nervous fashion. It brought you a bit of comfort, assuming that she was affected in the same way.

“What do you recommend?”

“Oh, well…” You walk over to open the glass case from your side of the counter, naming each item as you grab it. “I usually have this pretzel that’s stuffed with spinach and cheese and this brownie. I can heat both of them for you, if you’d like.”

“I would love that,” Wanda responds in a grateful tone, placing a bottle of water on the counter after taking it from the fridge. “And I’ll also have one of these incredibly overpriced waters.”

You begin her order with a laugh, and she watches you ring everything up with the speed and expertise of a seasoned employee, wondering how she’d gone this long without running into you. The total price is brought to the digital screen just before her card is inserted, and she takes the time to quickly slip her rings into her pockets while you’re taking the pretzel and brownie over to the miniature oven. The last thing she wants to do is scramble your brain before she even gets the chance to explore it.

“Here’s your receipt,” you announce while giving Wanda the slip of paper, your eyes lingering on her hand for a moment before looking at her again. “Your food should be ready soon.”

“Okay, thank you…” Her sentence trails off as she searches for your name, the letters rolling off her tongue with ease when she finally locates it on the apron covering your chest.

“You’re welcome…” You trail off in the same fashion and she catches on quickly.

“Wanda.”

“You’re welcome, Wanda,” you repeat as you hand her the water bottle before she can walk away.

Less than two minutes later, you approach the table she’s taken over with two small ceramic plates and a sheepish grin.

“I should’ve asked if you were going to stay a while, but I can grab some bags if you need to go.”

Wanda shakes her head with a laugh as she takes them from you, startling you when she doesn’t react to the excessive heat radiating from the dishes.

“This is perfect.”

She takes her time with eating, and your attention is drawn to her between customers, grateful that she’s too busy with her phone to notice your stares. On the other hand, Wanda’s mind is filled with thoughts of you. What you look like when you think she can’t see you glancing over, what you smelled like when you were close. The nerves, the kindness, the desire to learn her name despite her being just another customer to you. She knows that you noticed her missing rings, but she’s already prepared with a cover story. A two minute conversation has her dying to pick your brain more, learn your habits and become more familiar with your body, beyond a simple brush of your fingertips. She already wants you to herself, just the way you came, without her interference for now; that’ll come later.

A good meal with a side of human interaction, her absolute favorite.

-

Despite Wanda leaving an hour before your shift ended, she lingers in your thoughts on the bus ride and walk home. You find yourself recalling her kind smile, fidgeting fingers and the scent of her perfume when she passed you on her way out, and you’re so deep in your memories that you end up colliding with your apartment door.

“That’s not going to get you inside any faster, dear.”

Your cheeks burn as you face Ruth for the second time today, the first time being earlier when you sold her a bagel.

“I know, Ruthie,” you respond sheepishly as you pull your keys from your pocket. “Is everything okay? You’re usually in bed watching a cowboy show by now.”

“I’ve been waiting for you to come home so I could talk to you.” She checks to see if the hallway is empty before opening her door and waving you over. “Come on, quickly.”

You scurry into the apartment behind her, taking in the scene before you while she locks the door. Having visited her before, you know she keeps the television at a higher volume, but it seems louder than normal.

“I know I might seem like I’ve lost my marbles, but I wanted to warn you about that woman you saw today....The one with the bright hair.”

“You mean Wanda?” you question, eyes widening when she nods. “Warn me about what?”

“There’s something off about that Wanda, if that even is her real name.” She snatches her arm out of her robe and brings it closer for you to see. “I’ve had these chills since I brushed against her earlier. Something’s not right with her. How do you even know her name? I’ve never seen her before.”

“Hey, it’s okay,” you assure her as you help her slip her arm back in the sleeve. “I only know her name because we were having a friendly conversation and she used mine. I was just being polite to someone I’ll probably never even see again.”

“Just be careful,” she pleads as you head toward her door again, and you offer your best attempt at a relaxed smile.

“I’ll be fine, Ruthie. Get some rest, okay?”

You hear her lock the door behind you as you make your way back to your own apartment, rushing through the process of unlocking the door and securing it once you’re inside. As much as you don’t want to let Ruth get you worked up over a stranger, you can’t help thinking about the odd little things you noticed earlier. 

It isn’t unusual for someone to linger after buying food or drinks from your counter, whether they have homework or even just a phone to keep them busy. Wanda seemed to be waiting for someone the entire time, and you remember hoping that she wasn’t on a date, despite not wanting her to be stood up. But she simply slid her phone in her pocket and departed with a friendly wave as if nothing had happened.

You especially remember her waving at you with those ringless fingers, and wondering silently where the intricate jewelry had disappeared to. Obviously you just assumed that the rings were tucked away on her person and not dumped in the trash, but she doesn’t seem like the type of person to give up on her accessories in the middle of the day. Part of you--a part that you didn’t dare to address--wondered if she’d emptied her hands to send you a subtle sign. No, that can’t possibly be it.

Sleeping proves to be difficult with so many unanswered questions floating about, but you eventually give into the act. A few hours later, you peel open your eyes when you think you hear something in the room. The digital clock that sits on your bedside and serves as an alarm and occasional radio reads 3:34am, and you’re just about to close your eyes again when you hear another sound. You raise your head to turn toward your closet, and a scream is trapped in your throat as you catch sight of a figure in the shadows.

The next time you wake, the sun is out and your alarm is blaring on the nightstand beside you. Your gaze flickers over to the closet as you reach out to silence it, your heartbeat dropping slightly when you don’t see anything other than clothes. Deciding that you must’ve been dreaming, you shake away the fearful thoughts and head to the bathroom to start getting ready for another day of work.

The only thing you haven’t decided on yet is whether you want to see Wanda again.

[writethelifeyouwant]

Red

Summary: Y/N has been having an infuriating dry spell in the love department lately, thanks to lockdown, and her roommate Jensen is getting fed up with her attitude. So, he lets her in on a little secret…

Pairing: Danneel x Reader Rating: 18+ Tags: female masturbation, talk of male masturbation, phone sex, dirty talk, praise kink, light degradation, lockdown was hard on singletons but great for phone sex operators Word Count: 4.5k Created for: @anyfandomgoesbingo - Sex Hotline AU | @spnkinkbingo - Tribbing

A/N: Requested by @danneelsmain - hope this lived up to your expectations babe! I haven't written Danneel before but I really enjoyed writing this ❤️

“Yes... yes... yesyesyes–”

“Hey, Y/N!” Bang, bang, bang! “Hurry up in there will ya? I’m dyin’ here,” Jensen jiggled the doorknob to no avail, and Y/N was incredibly thankful she’d remembered to lock it this time.

I’m dying here, Y/N thought to herself, pulling the shower head from between her legs with a frustrated huff, the water swirling down the drain carrying the fading vestiges of her almost-orgasm with it. She had been so close. Bang! Bang! Bang!

“Just a minute!” she shouted, frustration tipping over into anger. The knob on the faucet was twisted to the ‘off’ position with unnecessary violence, and the shower curtain was attached at one less ring than it had been half an hour ago when it was yanked open to settle against the back wall of the tub.

Bang! Ban–

“Seriously, Jensen?!” Y/N barely had the towel secured around herself before she threw open the door, hastily ducking to avoid Jensen’s knock-in-progress.

“Thank fuck.” Jensen danced around Y/N and shoved the door shut, sending Y/N slipping across the tiles on her still-wet feet and locking her on the other side. The clearly audible hiss of Jensen relieving himself leaked through the door and Y/N growled in frustration, aiming a kick at the door before stomping down the hallway to her room.

He couldn’t have waited ten more seconds…

It had been bad enough that lockdown got them all stuck at home with no possibility of one night stands, or follow-up booty calls to keep her sex drive in check, but now Y/N was having an even bigger problem. She hadn’t been able to get herself over the finish line for at least two weeks, and she had no earthly idea as to why. Y/N was beginning to think that regular orgasms were part of the reason that she was usually nice to be around, because right now she felt like she was one bad joke away from stabbing somebody.

And that someone was likely to be Jensen.

Tucked up into the corner of the couch was Y/N’s standard position these days. She wasn’t sure what was playing on the TV, something as mindless as she felt right now.

“Budge up.” Jensen hit her feet and flopped back gracelessly on top of them without giving her the chance to move them.

“Ow, asshole!” A pillow whipped through the air and collided squarely with the side of Jensen’s face.

“What is your problem lately?”

“You, clearly,” Y/N snapped, pulling her knees into her chest defensively. Jensen raised a single eyebrow, giving her a pointed look. “No, it’s not you,” Y/N admitted, letting some of her aggression seep out of her frame with her words. “Sorry.”

“What’s up?”

“Nothing, it’s fine.”

There was a stiff silence between them, Jensen waiting for Y/N to break and answer his question and Y/N knowing that she didn’t want to talk about this with Jensen but not seeing a way out of the conversation. Jensen had an irritating habit of getting her to open up about things she never planned on telling people – like the fact that she was gay. And now he was about to hear far more about her sex life than she ever wanted to share with someone of the male species.

“I’m, um,” her cheeks were on fire as she glanced up to see Jensen looking back at her with concerned curiosity. “I’m… having a problem,” she finished lamely.

“Okay…”

“I can’t… Do you ever–” Y/N choked on the words every time they tried to bubble through. “So… um, it’s– it’s been a while.” She saw comprehension flash over Jensen’s freckled face a moment later.

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“You know PornHub has a whole section for lesbian shit, right?” Another pillow hits him in the face. “Okay, okay, ow,” Jensen rubs his jaw in exaggeration. “But seriously, it’s been a while for everyone. You just gotta take business into your own hands.”

“You don’t think I’ve been doing that?” Y/N hissed, unconsciously checking around them as if someone else was in their apartment who might overhear.

“Well then what’s the problem?”

“I haven’t like,” Y/N made a variety of nonsequitous hand motions that had no bearing on the word ‘orgasm’ but Jensen seemed to get the message.

“How long?” he cringed.

“Like, almost three weeks? And it’s not like I haven’t been trying like, everything, I just… can’t,” she shrugged helplessly. “Has this kind of thing ever happened to you? Is there something like, physically wrong with me?”

“No, no, I’m sure there’s nothing wrong with you,” Jensen rushed to reassure her, patting her leg awkwardly. “This kind of thing happens all the time.”

“So it’s happened to you too?” Hope shone from Y/N’s face that maybe she wasn’t doomed to a life empty of sexual pleasure.

“Well… no, not exactly.” Y/N’s shoulders drooped, hopes slashed.

“How are you staying so sane?” Y/N accused. “You used to be with a different girl every few days before all of this.”

“Hey! I was not,” Jensen was mock offended but Y/N could tell he was also a little proud. “And I’ve, uh… I’ve got my sources,” his eyes twinkled mischievously as he answered her question.

“Jensen Ross Ackles, have you been sneaking out behind my back!”

“No,” he rolled his eyes, “nothing like that.” Jensen pulled out his phone and started scrolling through the screen as Y/N watched.

“Jen, if you’re trying to show me porn, I’m good. Don’t need to see what you get off to,” Y/N shuddered at the thought. A text beeped on her phone a second later, Jensen’s name popping up on the screen.

“That’s my source,” he explains and she opens the message to see a 1-800 number, next to the word Red.

“Red?”

“Red.” Jensen confirmed with a wicked grin, nodding sagely.

Y/N could not believe she was about to do this. She looked down at the number on her phone screen, ready to dial as soon as she pressed the little green button. Jensen’s assurances echoed in her head. Best phone sex I’ve ever had… she actually gets off with you, she’s not just faking it… sounds so hot, and her body is killer in her profile pic. Admittedly, the picture he’d shown her had been really fucking sexy. A slender girl in small red panties and unfairly pretty breasts cradled in a satin bra covered in little hearts, dark red hair pinned up around her face in a vintage style.

Before she could talk herself out of it again, Y/N pressed dial and held the phone up to her ear. It rang a few times before connecting to an automated menu, and Y/N was secretly relieved she wouldn’t have to ask an operator if she could speak to ‘Red’.

Thank you for calling the Sugar Lips Hotline. Please enter your card details to continue.

Jensen had warned her about this part, so she had her card sitting out of her wallet on the desk in front of her.

If you know who you are trying to reach, please press one. If you would like to be assigned a random operator, please press two.

Y/N shakily pressed the number one, and then put the phone on speaker while she was at it.

If you would like to speak with Candy, press one, followed by the pound key. If you would like to speak with Kitty, press two, followed by the pound key. If you would like to speak with Lance…

Y/N wondered if she would still have the confidence to go through with this by the time the robotic voice mentioned ‘Red’.

If you would like to speak with Red, press thirteen, followed by the pound key.

The moment of truth. Y/N entered the number 13 and then pressed the pound key. The line began to ring again.

“Hi there,” a temptingly soft voice slipped through the receiver of the phone sitting on the desk in front of her.

“Hi-i,” Y/N’s voice was jarring in comparison, breaking on the first word she uttered.

“Oh, so I’ve got a pretty little girl on the line today, huh?” Y/N didn’t know how to answer so she didn’t, hands frozen in a death grip on the sleeves of her too big sweatshirt. “What’s your name, baby?”

“Y/N,” she whispered back, suddenly scared that Jensen would be able to hear every word being said in her room. Quickly digging into her pockets she pulled out her headphones and plugged them into her cell. Why hadn’t she done that earlier?

“That’s such a pretty name, baby,” the woman cooed, and now her voice was right against Y/N’s ears; it felt like she was in the room, whispering against her skin. “I’m Red.”

“That’s what I should call you?” Y/N managed to keep the tremor out of her words this time.

“Unless you want to call me something else? I can be whoever you want me to be baby girl. Mommy, ma’am, mistress…” Y/N’s heart thundered against her ribs. She realised that she had no idea what she wanted from this – she just knew she was desperate. “Or maybe you want to be in charge? I could be your baby, your good little girl.” Y/N wished she could see Red right now, watch what she looked like as she purred all these promises down the line, teasing and tempting.

“Is,” Y/N gulped, “is there anyone you want me to be?”

“Nuh-uh,” she tutted, and Y/N could imagine her shaking her head, red curls flying by her cheeks. “This is all about you Y/N. I’m here to make you feel good.”

Y/N felt a lick of heat curl in the base of her stomach, twisting itself around her intestines.

“Yeah, I could use that,” she laughed nervously, figuring she should be honest if she wanted this to work out well. And she really needed it to.

“Oh, have you been feeling a little pent up baby?” Red’s voice echoed in Y/N’s ears. The small vibrations coming out of her earbuds were enough to start sending a pulsing sensation down the side of her neck, worming its way under her skin and into her veins. Christ, it had been too long.

“You have no idea.”

“Well, I betcha we can fix that. Are you somewhere comfortable sweetie?”

“I could get on the bed?” Y/N offered, wondering why she hadn’t started there in the first place, rather than at her desk.

“That sounds like a great idea,” Red purred seductively. “Why don’t you stretch out on the bed, get yourself nice and cozy. Maybe prop a pillow up next to you and think about me snuggling you in real close. Wish I could be there to put my hands all over your body.”

Y/N was thankful she was already sitting on her bed by the time Red finished painting her little scene because if she’d been walking, she’s pretty sure her knees would have given out.

“Fuck, it’s been so long since I felt another girl’s hands on me.” She tried not to be embarrassed at how whimpery her voice had gone. If this went well it was about to get a whole lot worse anyways.

“I want to touch every inch of you,” Red breathed heavily. “Run my fingers through your hair, over your neck, down your back. Would I find a bra there to unhook, baby?”

“Yeah,” Y/N sighed, arching her shoulders and feeling the band scratch taught around her ribs, pushing her breast up towards her chin.

“Why don’t you take that off for me?”

“Okay,” Y/N felt her voice shake as much as her hands as she reached behind her back to unclasp her bra, breathing deeply when the pressure of the garment disappeared.

“Bet that felt good, didn’t it baby?” Red laughed knowingly.

“Yeah,” Y/N agreed, loosening up a little at the acknowledgement of a shared experience, something all girls could relate to. She pulled her arms through the straps beneath her sweatshirt and shimmying the discarded bra out the bottom before pushing her arms back through her sleeves. The peaks of her nipples tightened as they caught on the pills of fleece that now sat against her chest.

“What else are you wearing?”

Suddenly embarrassed she hadn’t thought to put on anything sexy in preparation for this call, Y/N didn’t manage more than an “um…” before Red laughed, a warm sound that melted into her like chocolate against your tongue.

“Why don’t I tell you what I’m wearing?”

“Yeah,” Y/N nodded before she remembered that Red couldn’t see her. “Bet it’s something really sexy,” she attempted to flirt, cringing at how awkward she sounded.

“Well that depends,” Red mused. “Do you like lace?”

“Yeah,” Y/N breathed. She loved seeing girls in lace lingerie; the way the delicate weave of the pattern offered small tastes of the skin it covered, the way you could feel someone’s warmth seeping through such a thin fabric so easily, the way it felt to have someone touch you or suck you through such a meagre sheet of modesty…

“What about stockings?” Red voice broke through Y/N’s train of thought, pulling her back to the vaguely out of body experience she was having.

“Love them,” Y/N answered quietly, trying to pitch her voice the way Red was, low and alluring.

“Well, that’s a shame,” she sighed dramatically. “Because I’m not wearing anything at all right now, sorry to disappoint.” Y/N couldn’t see her but she would bet anything Red was wearing a big pout right now. She wondered what her lips looked like. In her head she pictured soft and pillowy.

“You are such a tease,” Y/N laughed, hoping to disguise the pang of arousal that had shot through her a moment before.

“Yeah, but you like it, don’t you baby?”

“Yeah, I really do,” Y/N found herself admitting unconsciously.

“Are you gonna keep teasing me, or are you gonna get naked too baby girl?”

A throb of desire fluttered between Y/N’s legs, her pussy clenching, and when she squirmed back into her pillow a little she felt the lace fabric of her own panties sliding a little more between her thighs. Her arousal had started to soak out of her and into the material.

“You want me naked?” Y/N’s words scratched their way out of her throat, trying to pull her confidence along with them.

“Oh god, please baby,” Red moaned loudly, but it didn’t sound fake. It was like Jensen had told her, it sounded like she was really enjoying this, and like she was actually getting off on what was happening between them right now. “Want to feel your skin against mine.”

“I want that too, baby,” Y/N’s hasty breaths shook her words. She stripped out of her underwear and shoved her phone and headphones down the front of her sweatshirt so she could shimmy it over her head without disconnecting the earbuds. She didn’t want to miss anything.

“God, if I was there I would kiss all over you. Bet you taste amazing,” Red sighed, and Y/N could hear something shifting over the phone, like fabric moving around.

“Are you on your bed too?” Y/N asked.

“Yep, all spread out for you baby girl.”

“Are you touching yourself?” Y/N’s confidence was starting to build as she heard how much Red sounded like she’s into this, and she couldn’t deny she was turned on too. She felt wetter than she’d been in weeks, and when her fingers drifted down over her stomach its muscles twitched in anticipation of where she was about to touch.

“Where do you want me to touch?” Y/N let her eyes slide closed, and she could imagine Red batting her lashes as she asked - where do you want me to touch? - She pictured the girl she’d seen in the photo poised over her, legs straddling Y/N’s hips as Red ran her hands over her own body, fingers trailing over her throat, fondling her breasts, twisting around the pink flesh at the tips of each, lingering on the soft of her stomach before dipping lower.

“I want you to touch between your legs and tell me how wet you are,” Y/N said between deep breaths, trying to keep her voice even.

“I’m already so wet for you, baby,” Red gasped, and Y/N hoped it was a reaction to her fingers slipping inside her pussy.

“If you were here with me, what would you do right now?”

“I’d make you watch me fuck myself on my fingers.” Holy shit, Y/N couldn’t help the moan that bled through her lips, and she heard Red chuckle. “Yeah, you like the sound of that baby?”

“Mm-hmm,” Y/N whimpered, her own fingers finally making their way between her legs and sliding easily through the slick she found there.

“I’d straddle myself right over your face, so you could see my fingers fucking my pussy, feel me dripping on you.”

“Oh, fuck.”

“And then, when my fingers are nice and soaked, you’re gonna suck them clean like a good little girl, aren’t you sweetheart?” Red’s monologue was absolutely wrecking Y/N, she wanted everything the woman on the end of the line was describing so badly. “Want you to do it to yourself, since I can’t be there to do it for you. Can you get those fingers nice and wet for me baby?”

“Fuck, yeah, okay.” Y/N pushed two fingers inside her pussy, clenching around them wantonly. She must have let out some kind of noise because Red giggled again before she continued talking.

“That’s it, fuck yourself for me baby girl, until I can do it for you.” And fucking hell, the thought of Red actually with her, touching her, fucking her… “Your fingers nice and dirty now?”

“Mm-hmm,” Y/N squeaked, pressing against her g-spot to get herself even wetter.

“Good girl,” Red hummed. “Now suck them clean for me, Y/N. Want you to taste just how sweet you are. God, wish I could taste you too,” she moaned, her breath hitching.

Y/N obeyed Red’s instructions, sucking her fingers into her mouth and twirling her tongue around them, curling it across the dips and whorls of her fingertips. She groaned around the digits in her mouth, trying to make it audible that she was doing as she was told.

“Good girl,” Red cooed again, obviously hearing Y/N’s sucking. “Good filthy girl. You’re so dirty aren’t you baby, bet you’re dripping onto the sheets right now you’re so horny.”

“Oh my god,” Y/N felt her whole body clenching as she pushed her hand back between her legs, toying with her clit and sending fresh jolts of desire to her core. “Fuck, I’m touching myself again. Couldn’t help it, you’re so hot baby.”

“I want you to touch yourself sweetie. Want you to make yourself feel so good.”

“I want you to feel good too,” Y/N whimpered, maybe stupidly, but she remembered Jensen saying that Red got off with him and she wanted the same thing. She wanted to know that Red wanted her, that Red found her sexy. She didn’t want to be in this alone.

“Oh, I am feeling so good baby girl,” Red assured Y/N, her voice brimming with sincerity and whimpers to back it up. “Fucking myself so good, pretending it’s your fingers inside me.”

“Fuck, that’s so hot,” Y/N couldn’t come up with anything more eloquent than that. The more she played with herself the foggier her brain got.

“What are you imaging right now?”

“Thinking about you, you on top of me.”

“You want me on top, huh? Want me to hold you down a little, baby?”

“Mm, yeah,” Y/N sighed, slipping two fingers from her free hand down to her entrance and pushing them inside, keeping her other hand on her clit, rolling it between her fingers. “You could hold me down, grind yourself against me. Use me to get yourself off.” Y/N’s breathing was ragged now, and the fingers inside her pussy sought out her g-spot again, starting to focus their efforts a little more concertedly on the spongy bundle of nerves.

“Oh sweetie, that’s so hot, fuck,” Red moaned heavily, her breath catching on her curse. “I’d grind against you so good. Rub our pussies together, all slick and hot, grind my clit against yours nice and hard. Fuck, touch your clit for me baby.”

“I am,” Y/N gasped, drawing fast little circles over the nub between her legs. “Fuck, want all that so bad. Think you could come like that? Just from rubbing your pussy on me, getting me all wet and dirty?”

“Fuck yes, love rubbing my pussy on yours, love grinding our clits together. I could tease you so good. Go nice and slow, wonder how long you’d last before you start begging me to let you cum.”

“I’m close,” Y/N whimpered, surprised at how true it was. She hadn’t gotten so close to cumming this quickly in ages.

“Already baby? You naughty little girl,” Red groaned, and the sound of bed springs crackled through Y/N’s earbuds too. Y/N pictured Red arching off the bed, fucking her hips into her fingers. “You want to cum for me baby?”

“Fuck, yes, yes please,” Y/N begged, feeling the muscles in her thighs and stomach starting to constrict, heat singing through her veins.

“Not yet baby, keep fucking yourself.” Y/N let out a pathetic whine in protest. “You can do that for me, can’t you sweetie. Fuck yourself on those pretty little fingers for me?”

“Yeah, yeah I am.”

“Good girl, I’m so fucking close baby.”

“Fuck, please, want you to cum. Want you to cum with me.” Y/N’s eyes squeezed tight as small pinpricks of light started to burst in the darkness of her vision.

“Gonna cum for you, baby girl,” Red cried, voice high and tight. “Fuck, I’m gonna squirt, I can feel it. Gonna squirt all over your pussy, fucking soak you.”

“Oh my god,” Y/N felt like she might actually start crying, she needed to cum so badly. She was so so so close.

“Rub that little clitty, pretend it’s me rubbing up against you. All hot and wet,” her voice was breaking, her words short and breathless, and Y/N could tell Red was as close as she was. “Gonna cum all over you. Fuck, gonna squirt so hard bet I could actually cum inside you.”

“Holy fuck!” Y/N’s hips snapped into the air, searching for the imaginary body she wished was there. It was becoming hard to hear through the intense buzzing in her ears. Every nerve in her body was pulled taut, ready to snap.

“Cum for me Y/N, c’mon baby, you can do it, want you to cum for me like the good little girl you are baby, c’mon.”

Y/N was sobbing, wrist pistoning her fingers in and out of herself faster than she ever remembered being able to move, and she felt the walls of her pussy clamping down, trying to keep the pressure inside where it wanted it. And then she couldn’t take it anymore. Everything froze. She might have screamed, but to be honest she couldn’t be too sure, because she couldn’t hear anything except the white light that had flooded the dark space behind her eyelids.

Lockdown became much more bearable after that day. Though Y/N did have to try really hard to not think about the fact that she and Jensen were kind of fucking the same girl. In a way. It was weird. But if she ignored that part, then her ‘dates’ with Red were perfect. She was finally able to release all the tension, sexual and otherwise, that this whole mess had building up in her system constantly. And eventually, the world started to open back up and things started to get just a little bit easier.

Y/N wondered what she would do when lockdown was well and truly over. When the bars and clubs opened up again, would she and Jensen go out and try to hook up like they always had before? Would everything just go back to normal? Would she still want to call Red if she was getting actual sex with a real girl, and not just her hand or a bit of silicone? Yes. The answer was most definitely yes, Y/N had to admit to herself. Even though it was just phone sex, it was still some of the best sex she’d ever had.

Well, Red is a professional, she thought to herself wryly as she spooned some froth onto the top of the cappuccino she was making. The coffee shop she worked at had reopened last week, finally.

“Y/N! Can you jump on register while I take my break?” Michelle called from the end of the counter.

“Sure thing,” Y/N smiled and wiped her hands off on her apron, making her way behind the other baristas to the cash register. She briefly glanced at the line of people waiting to order – a couple of college kids carrying some scary looking textbooks, a portly man scratching his bald patch, a pretty girl with shiny hair and awesome winged liner. Y/N blushed as she caught the eye of the girl, and immediately looked back at her tablet, typing in her register code.

“Hi there, what can I get you?” Y/N’s customer service voice was alarmingly cheery, and the two college guys blinked, startled, clearly still unused to interacting with humans again – Y/N knew the feeling, cringing internally. She made a note to dial the pep back a little.

“Hey, what can I get you?” It was the pretty girl at the front of the line now.

“Um, I’ll have a caramel latte, please,” she answered with a bright smile, red lips stretching across shockingly white teeth.

“Size?” Y/N asked, tapping the order into her tablet.

“How big can you make it?” the girl giggled, and Y/N looked up, something tugging at the back of her mind.

“Um, large?” Y/N answered absentmindedly, trying to figure out what was bugging her so much. The girl just nodded, politely accepting the fact that Y/N had skated over her joke. “Can I get a name for the order?” She grabbed the large sized cup and uncapped the marker, hand poised over the white cardboard, ready to write.

“Oh, sure. It’s Danneel.”

“Danielle?” Y/N asked, her mind still wandering.

“No, Dan– you know what, it’s a weird name. Just go with Red.”

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[mysmegrace]

Hii! Could I request “why is it so hard for you to believe me?” “I love you” prompts with Jumin, Zen and Saeran? Thank you!

hello~ omg anon you are giving me too much fun with these prompts lmao. i’ve decided to split them up in a fanfic style. i’ll post jumin’s here, then later zen’s and saeran’s. i’ll leave the links to them here once they become released but i’ll also have the links in my masterlist. have a great day!

summary: jumin comes across a text notification that flashes on mc’s phone. being curious, he reads it. things don’t add up to him and he accuses mc of cheating. mc is heartbroken, as the text was nothing more than a friendly conversation between cousins. it’s only until later does jumin realize his mistake.

topics / tw: cheating, angst, pregnancy, death, wrongfully accused individuals, car accidents, drunk driving, definitely not spoiler free. 

words: 5.3k

*reminder: you can check out my masterlist to see which requests i am currently working on!*

just wanna put out there that the title is a lyric from shin yong woo’s (jumin’s VA) song. i plan to title saeran’s fic and zen’s fic the same way, just with different songs. here’s a link to the song if you’re interested.

Sad Endings Stay Sad

---

october 5th marked the birth of one of south koreas brilliant billionaires. and of course, there were ups and downs to that kind of life. living the rich lifestyle while working your life away for your young years. however, birthdays were supposed to be exemptions for the hectic ways of that life for just a day.

jumins birthdays consisted of four main concepts. birthday presents from people he’s only spoken to once, being met with “happy birthdays” whenever you turned the corner, parties being held in his honor (four-to be exact), and his favourite part, time spent with you and elizabeth the third.

he could endure the day as long as you were at home, safe and secure, waiting patiently for his return. knowing that made his struggles a little more bearable. he had all he could’ve asked for in his possession, things money can’t buy.

hence why he always asked you to refrain from giving him birthday gifts. he already had everything he needed, he could buy anything should he desire it, they took up unnecessary space, and they were pointless to him.

so when he arrived home that night to pick you up alongside driver kim in order to attend the han family birthday dinner, the look of confusion on his face once he laid his eyes upon the birthday gift left for him on the kitchen table was understandable. 

had you forgotten his wishes, or were you simply teasing him? he knew his wife liked to play around from time to time. perhaps this was just another one of your silly “i love you” gifts. he decided to give you the pleasure of watching him open your gift, seeing your face light up playfully as he received a small plushie or tiny confetti canon. 

little to his knowledge, you had planned something different to gift him. something incredibly more significant that you both were expecting to happen in the near future. after five years of marriage, you were excited to be sharing this news with him.

facing the mirror, you had heard the door open and close, signaling his arrival. meanwhile you were still getting ready for the dinner. so you allowed him a couple minutes to himself, taking in the foreign object greeting him.

with the last flick of mascara, you reached for the door handle, preparing how to answer the questions he was bound to ask. walking out to greet your husband as you weakly closed the door behind you, he turned his head to the sound of your heels meeting with the floor. 

giving you his typical smile, the one that made you want to melt into the expensive floor tiles, he walked to greet you as you made your entrance in the living room. his beautiful wife was always a wonderful sight to see at home.

regardless, he knew you both had a place to be and he needed to hurry the conversation up. the last thing he wanted to be was late. so he questions,

“love, i thought i told you not to gift me anything this year. having you with me is more than enough.”

a modest giggle left your lips, those beautiful lips he would kiss every morning before work. you made a small gesture to the present, telling him to open it. yet as he picked the gift up, you noticed you didn’t have the birthday card on you. you couldn’t have a birthday gift without a birthday card. everything had to be perfect. 

after all, it wasn’t everyday that you would announce you were expanding your small family. so you quickly exclaimed, “one second, i forgot something!”. he stopped, taken aback but respecting your wishes. he watched as you ran off to the bedroom, leaving your phone on the table.

as you were off scrambling through your shared drawers, he was examining his surroundings to pass time. the clock seemed to be forward by five seconds...strange. he’d deal with that later. yet suddenly the ping of your phone caught his attention.

you had a text message. he bent forward ever so slightly to read the contents of the text, not daring the move the phone from his original spot. you two trusted each other, no way would he consider this a branch of your privacy. despite that, he felt the need to read the previous messages with this person after reading what was shown on your scree.

he could feel his heart drop as he read, “okay see you then, love you”. he had never heard of this man you were texting with, but why was he texting you using that language? the language of a lover that should be reserved to coming from him towards you, not from anyone else.

and from the looks of things, you had made plans to meet this man beforehand. you had never made any mention of him yet you made plans with him? his heart was racing, he wasn’t sure if it would remain in his chest at this rate.

swiping up to investigate further, he was met with your password screen. thinking nothing of it, he inputs your password. the same one you had for years and shared with him, even when you changed it. however this time he was met with an innocent password notification.

surely this was a mis-input on his end. re-entering your password with a slower, more accurate, finger aim. the outcome was no different, “incorrect password”. why had you changed your password and why hadn’t you told him?

things were not adding up. all rational thoughts were leaving his mind as everything he had never wanted to happen might have been happening right in front of his eyes. 

meanwhile you were continuing to search for the card in the bedroom, you couldn't find it anywhere. yet your attention directed to the hallway, hearing the voice of driver kim throughout the house, yelling “you’re going to be late, hurry”.

crap, you thought. things would have to wait, on your side and jumin’s. he had no time to question you about the text, silently deciding to recluse into a reserved state for the rest of the evening, from everyone, including you.

walking out of the bedroom, you met jumin in the hallway as he picked up the umbrella sitting beside the door to shield the two of you from the downpour of rain outside. opening the door, he left, barely leaving it open for you. that was nothing like jumin. perhaps he had rushed because of the time, you thought.

through a slow car ride, you felt an overwhelming sense of awkwardness. he wasn’t acknowledging your presence, which was quite unlike him. his face just remained with the same blank expression facing forward. 

this behaviour continued all throughout dinner. only talking when expected to, turning his shoulder everytime you walked towards him, and disregarding any words you spoke to him. you knew this man like the back of your hand, there was 100% something bothering him.

what took a prick to your heart, however, was how he hadn’t told you what was on his mind yet. you understood the concept of privacy, but you had promised each other to always confide in the other through anything, so why was this time different?

who knew two hours could feel like two days as you waited for the event to come to an end. that way, you could finally confront him about the situation. it was killing you. 

in the corner of your eye, you watched as a few of the associates started to clear up the area. you could feel the breath you weren’t aware of holding release as you began thinking about the next course of action. knowing your love, he doesn’t make sense of things unless they’re said blatantly. 

finishing up with respectful goodbyes, jumin lightly signified for you to join his leave. boarding the car, nothing was changed since the car ride to the event. just the presence of jumin, driver kim, and yourself. now you had to encourage yourself to sit through another awkward car ride with your anxiety consuming you.

you found yourself at a slight ease once driver kim had pulled up to the home you and jumin shared. it wasn’t long before you found yourself alone with jumin in the comfort of the familiar walls. just as you began to get your words out, you were interrupted by your husbands deeper tone of voice.

“explain the text on your phone from earlier” he said, almost as if he were making a statement. the feeling of your jaw slightly dropping didn’t catch your attention, but it caught jumins. taken aback, you start rethinking all the texts you had received from that day. however you couldn’t come up with any results that would warrant his question being asked.

taking notice of your face, he continues, obviously not expecting a response from you anytime soon, saying “i saw the text you received earlier from a male saying he’d see you soon, even referring to you as love, what is that about?”

you couldn’t reply. you didn’t know what to say. were you really being accused of cheating right now? did his trust for you fall that much..? yet you hadn’t seen such a text. truth be told, you haven't even looked at your phone since you left to grab the card. 

your thoughts were suddenly interrupted, hearing “not to mention that you’ve changed your password to your phone and haven’t told me. haven’t we agree to rely this information to each other?”. at this point, you weren’t sure if you were in shock or dreaming. surely this wasn’t real, you would never cheat on him. the only texts that were kind of similar to what he said to have seen were the plans to meet up with your friend and close cousin.

other than that, nothing he was saying was making sense. yet how come you couldn’t respond..? you didn’t want to hurt him, but you couldn’t let him go on another minute thinking you had cheated. with your phone now in the bedroom, it wasn’t like you could walk away to check what he was speaking of from the living room.

“are you cheating on me?” he asked, clearly not wanting to waste anymore time before deciding his next move. mustering up the little willpower you had left, you mumbled back “no”, leaving space to continue, but not knowing what to continue with.

a sign escaped his lips, before they parted to speak, “you’re not very convincing. you have nothing to say for the text message and sudden password change, this is very unlike the mc i know, or used to know.” those last few words sparked something in you.

perhaps it was because of the shock of the situation or the emotional imbalance you were currently dealing with, but you started to fill with many negative emotions, more so than before. betrayal, anger, and defeat were beginning to run rampant. you knew that you could not prove your innocence to jumin in this state.

giving it a go, you start to confront his accusations, saying “i don’t know what you’re talking about. i have never, and will never, cheat on you. why don’t you believe me? i love you! how could you think so little of me? are you that insecure to think every man i talk to is someone i’m trying to persue?”

oh no, you thought. you hadn’t meant to touch on his insecurities like that. you let them slip in a fit of hurt, but didn’t think about what you were saying in detail. you felt incredibly guilty as soon as the words jumped out. maybe, a night apart would be good to calm the both of you down and think rationally. 

therefore, you followed up saying “i’m sorry, i’m going to leave for now, i can’t do this tonight”. quickly looking down as to not be swayed by any expression he makes, you nearly run to the bedroom.

pulling out the backpack you had since you were 18, you unzipped it to prepare for everything. you would only take essentials, such as your phone and some cash you had earned on your own, securing the items before turning the door.

walking out to the hall, you saw from the corner of your eye how jumin had left, leaving the area empty. yet one thing caught your eye, that being the present you had left from earlier.

not thinking about it much, you ran to grab it, shoving it in your bag as you left through the front door. in your unusual luck, no security guards were around. giving you the perfect chance to left without bringing yourself anu attention.

reaching the outdoors, you begin walking. to where, you haven’t decided yet. after all, you had a lot to think about. refocusing your mind after a few disappointing seconds, you pulled out your phone, being met with the lockscreen of jumin and elizabeth the third taking a nap together.

oh how things have changed in such a short time. looking through your notifications, a message from you cousin had crossed your eyes. “see you then, love you” it read. oh god, how would you explain that to jumin tomorrow.

 you hadn’t introduced him to your cousin yet, mainly because he lived half way across the world. the two of you had always been close however, being there for each other when your immediate families weren’t. saying “i love you” was normal, because as children the only time you would hear those words were from each other.

never have you even thought that it could be interpreted as a romantic relationship. for many reasons, the biggest being that you were biologically related and he didn’t have a romantic attraction towards women.

thinking about it, you could understand how jumin could have taken it. as for the password, you had only changed it because of the employee who had taken your phone without your knowledge correctly guessed the password, attempting to become closer with the chairman. 

coming back to your senses, you find yourself looking down the empty road with only the streetlights and moon providing you any sense of sight in the late night. you began looking for hotels nearby, coming across an affordable one for the night.

only problem being that it was 30 minutes away by car, and in your tired state you were not willingly to walk for so long. so off to booking a cab you went. finding the cheapest option, saving some money for anything you may need later, you promptly requested a ride. 

with the cab puling up 10 minutes later, you began your journey to your  residence for the night. the wind hitting your face from the open window as you were riding provided you with serenity, reminding you that you were still living in this moment.

as the minutes passed, you started noticing some questionable things about the driver. sure you weren’t an expert driver, but you were fairly certain cars weren’t supposed to be driving over the white line dividing the lanes. you weren’t oblivious to the cars unnecessary fast speed either. was this driver okay, you thought.

as time went on, you could only feel the car getting faster and faster. you tried getting the drivers attention, but to no avail. now they were driving completely in the opposite lane. only to switch over, then back, then over, then back.

you would be lying if you said you weren’t scared. you could feel your heart racing, almost like it were about to jump out of your chest, with your gut telling you something horrible was about to happen.

everything happened so fast. half way through the trip, a car driving towards the vehicle as the driver was driving in the wrong lane again, crashed into you head on. you started grabbing onto random things in the car as they flew around, just now noticing the several empty vodka bottles in the trunk. you felt yourself spinning inside the car uncontrollably.

glass had pierced through several parts of your body, deriving from the mirrors. with no warning, the car had fallen off the road, down through the wooded hill on the side.

with the driver now passed out on the stirring wheel, you were at a lost on what to do. the only option was to relax and pray you’d survive. suddenly, you shot forward in your seat as the car collided with one of the many trees. you felt a piercing pain throughout your body, yet your brain had no time to reregister where the pain was coming from as you passed out with your head on the drivers seat.

yet jumin was completely unaware of this. he had walked off to pour a glass of wine, and saw that you left not long after.

being left alone was nothing unfamiliar to him, but it became an extremely unpleasant circumstance after he had formed a relationship to you. he always thought you would be there with him 24/7, but now that wasn’t the case.

he couldn’t wrap his head around the events that just took place. of course he trusted you, but he couldn’t ignore the text. needing clarification as soon as possible, he contacted seven.

knowing his hacking abilities, he could only rely on him to give him peace of mind. he knew it wasn’t right, but he felt the circumstance was understandable enough. hence why he asked seven to hack into mc’s phone without giving him too much detail.

seven hesitantly agreed, it was her husband after all. if there were any affairs going on, though he doubted it, he deserved to know. getting to work, jumin got his results quickly. he was sent dozens of screenshots containing the conversation between her and this man. 

it was only an easy job for seven, hacking into phones was nothing for the genius. while reading through the text messages, jumin became overwhelmed with guilt.

he read as they reminisced over their childhoods, talked about what the future held, and even planning to meet each others significant others. he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. had he really driven her away because he assumed the worst of her?

the sooner he could find where she was staying, the better. apologizing was his first priority, he would answer to his work later. being wrecked with remorse, jumin sat facing the window overlooking the city, preparing for the worst as he became increasingly more drunk as time went on.

he didn’t want to live a life away from his soulmate because of one stupid mistake. the years you had spent together meant too much to be thrown away so effortlessly. calling seven back, he asked for him to track you down.

there were many ways he could go about this. he could track her phone, follow cctv footage, or go looking around himself. whichever way he choose, jumin would give him the resources possible to do so. it made his heart break thinking how you might be spending the night alone, crying to your pillow instead of him.

upon tracking your phone, as seven had chosen to do, he had to do a double take. things weren’t adding up. were you sleeping down a hill? deciding to get clarification before taking the wrong moves, he decides to follow you along cctv footage as well.

that way, he’d be able to directly see what you were up to. following along carefully, everything seemed normal. well, as normal as the situation could get. however it didn’t take him long to catch onto the drivers horrible driving. just like you had thought, he knew something bad was going to happen.

as time went on, he watched in horror as he witnessed the car getting hit, spinning off the road, smashing the windows, and ending up in the ditch as it aggressively hit a tree in the wooded area. seven hasn’t been speechless many times in his life, but he couldn’t say anything at this moment in time.

after a minute of sitting with his face close up to the monitor, he recollects himself as he dials jumins number. the reality of the situation kicks in. how would he be able to tell him that his wife had gotten in a serious car accident? one that definitely killed the driver, there would be no way in hell they would’ve survived the impact.

“jumin, she got into a car accident. she’s besides the road outside of the city. we need to call somebody” he said, his voice slightly raising as he begins to panic. his friend was in a car accident, how could he not panic? 

jumin didn’t give his mind time to process the situation before calling driver kim to take him to the scene of the accident. everything else could wait. he couldn’t find himself caring about the cheating accusations at the moment, his wife was possibly dead.

god, that broke him. his soulmate might be dead. no, she couldn’t be. she’s survived so much in her young life, a car accident wouldn’t take her that easily. but in case of the worst scenario, he needed to be prepared.

on the way to the scene, he arranged the best doctors to treat her in the nearest hospital. even if she were to end up depending on him for the rest of her life, he would be there everyday. 

he could hear the sounds of sirens as they approached the scene, increasing his anxiety more and more. practically jumping out of the car as they arrived, he laid his eyes upon a box of metal extremely crushed, what he assume to be the car.

it was horrendous. the windows were completely gone with glass everywhere, the hood was shriveled up towards where the front mirror was supposed to be, and two tires had rolled off of the car.

what was of more concern to him was his wife, who was being lifted onto a stretcher. there wasn’t much he could see over the paramedics, but what he did see wanted to make him crawl up into a ball and pretend like it never happened.

like this was all a dream. like he didn’t make her want to leave their safe home, resulting in her injuries. wasting little time, he spoke to the paramedics as they examined you. careful to not direct their attention off of you, but still asking questions.

“is my wife okay? what happened?” he asked. he knew the answer to a certain extent, but he needed someone to give him the facts. not moving an eye off of your body, a male paramedic responded “we don’t know for sure. we will give you the results at hospital once we can conduct a proper exam. what i can tell you is that she’s alive, though looks to be in critical condition. the driver has passed unfortunately”.

with all due respect, he didn’t care about the drivers life in this moment. they had almost taken your life with theirs, so why should he feel sorry? the paramedic continues “as for what happened, we’re still actively investigating but this is very likely to be a case of drunk driving due to the empty vodka bottles and the drivers blood alcohol levels.”

he had to pause and compose himself, because he nearly had a heart attack hearing that information. how could someone put their passengers life in danger like that? did they not know how special you were? perhaps the driver was lucky to be dead, because if they had survived, they would be living the rest of their life behind bars.

he would get you justice for this one day, he promised himself. with jumin being allowed to ride with you in the ambulance, he quickly hopped in as you were being loaded in. 

now he was given a clear view of your face right in front of his eyes. a face so beautiful given so many scars. the glass in your face, the bruises, the blood leaking from your head, they were all staring at him. 

he could do nothing but stare at you the entire ride. he was worried you would give up on him if he were to turn his back. the shallow breaths you took in reminding him of your living form. 

the sights around him blurred as you entered the hospital, only focused on you. he followed until a nurse told him to take a seat in the waiting room as you were rushed into surgery upon further examination.

hence why he found himself surrounded by white walls on the night after his birthday. staring straight ahead as to live fully in his head for the time being. now was when he could truly feel himself becoming tired. most likely the alcohol had worn off on him, leaving him in a haze.

3 minutes turned into 30 minutes, which turned into 1 hour, which turned into 2 hours, which turned into 3 hours. all extremely drawn out times, the only interception being the visit from the paramedics.

they had given him the things you had brought with you, many bent or broken. there laid your essentials as well as the present you have given him earlier. he could try to open the present, but it would be no use. it had already been deemed unrecognizable just by the packages damage.

exactly 200 minutes, over 3 hours, later, he was greeted by the main surgeon. mentally preparing himself for the outcome, he listens as the surgeon speaks, saying “mr. han, we tried everything we could..”

no, this wasn’t happening. he knows how this goes, but he doesn’t want to accept it. if there is a god out there, please make this be a big nightmare, he thought. yet he knows, he knows. this is real, too real.

the surgeon continues, “...unfortunately she had succumbed to her injuries. she fought until her last breath...” he blanked, being left speechless. this couldn’t be real, you can’t leave him like that. you can’t. you were supposed to grow old together.

he could feel as every structure and thing with significance fell in his life. hell, he didn’t know if he still had a life outside of you. how would he go on..? you had showed him the path to true love, accepting him like no one else ever had.

his company flourished with you present, people being grateful you were there to convince him to be a tad more human and give some laid back time. you had lightened up everyone’s life in many ways.

“...the baby unfortunately did not survive either..”

cutting off his thought process, he was now faced with confusion. the baby? what was the surgeon talking about? “what baby?” he asked.

“the baby, as in the baby you two were expecting in around 7 months?... were you not aware?” the surgeon responded. she was pregnant and hadn’t told him...? there’s no way this was actually happening. maybe they got her confused with another patient. he would know if she was pregnant, wouldn’t he?

his thoughts were cut off by the surgeon pulling up her medical records, confirming his previous statement. everything was there. he couldn’t believe, there was too much going on.

he first lost his wife and now he lost his unborn child, one he didn’t even know existed. sensing the agonizing energy in the room, the surgeon leaves with his best wishes. now left alone, he was stuck. 

he had no idea what to do. he felt like crying, could he even cry...? everything just felt so numb as he realized he was on his own again. allowing his face to drop and relax, he stared at the floor thoughtless. 

somehow his father knew and showed up at the hospital. had jumin called him? he couldn’t remember if he were honest, everything was going in one ear and out the other. he doubted if he was even seeing things right.

later, as he was invited to give his last goodbyes before her body would be taken to the morgue, he spoke to his love for the last time.

“i’m so sorry i couldn’t protect you...thank you for giving me the life i’ve always wanted. i never meant to hurt you like i did, please give me your forgiveness through the afterlife. take care of our child up there, my love for you won’t stop until my heart does. rest easy darling”.

grabbing a hold of your delicate hand for the last time, he placed a kiss as he left. letting you go like the princess you were. eventually he found himself outside your room door, standing in the narrow hallway. was this it for him? nothing else mattered to him as much as you did.

finding himself at home once again, the sun being awake at this point, everything hit him like a truck. only this time, he could feel his tears plaque his face. last night you were breathing, this morning you weren’t.

how could the universe do this to him? hadn’t he proved himself worthy enough of you? in the back of his head, he was reliving the event every second. he would never forgive himself for what he said to you the night before your death. he would blame himself for the rest of his life.

he could only hope you would have forgiven him by time he meets you again up there. the next week was nothing but a blur, the only thing he could remember was your funeral.

how you laid so beautifully down, now at eternal peace. being laid to rest with the child he never got to meet, but already loved so much. everyone said their goodbyes, as your friends wept for hours. 

finding himself at home again, he really started to hate the place. he wasn’t meant for only him. yet at the same time, he couldn’t leave. you had lived here with him for years, your mark was stick. 

as advised to do so by many, he cleared out the drawers and closet of your clothing to save in a box. one he would take with him to the grave. amongst the pile of clothes occupying the top shelf, an envelop met with his head. standing in confusion for no more than a minute, he opens it.

he could feel his eyes swell with silent tears as he read the contents of the envelope. it was a card with a picture of an ultrasound. things were making sense, you were planning to surprise him for his birthday. he couldn’t believe what he had done.

he couldn’t go on. it all hurt him too much. stopping the cleaning process, he went to lay on his bed. observing the photo of the unborn child, he couldn’t control as the tears fell, clouding his vision in seconds.

he laid there for the following evening hours, fantasizing about a life with you and the little one. wondering which parent they would’ve taken after most, innocently hoping it would’ve been you. imagining them getting married, having a happy family of there own.

but he would never experience that while on earth now that you were no longer under the sky. over time, he let fatigue overcome him, drifting off with the ultrasound photo held to his chest.

that night, he could’ve sworn it was you how had embraced him and whispered “i love you” quietly in his ear. anyone might call him crazy, or say that he’s going crazy despite his usual rational nature.

no matter what anyone else thought, he knew it was you. there was no doubting that.

---

01:32 AST - 07/28/21

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

By My Side (Part 9)

Summary: The reader and Jensen have a relaxing afternoon where they discuss their future with one another...

Masterlist

Pairing: Bodyguard!Jensen x reader

Word Count: 2,000ish

Warnings: language

A/N: Please enjoy the final part! I had a lot of fun with this series!

_________

One Month Later

“Hey Mikey,” you called from the hammock you were sharing with Jensen in the backyard. He popped his head up from one of the patio loungers, his head deep in a legal brief. “Don’t you have a date tonight?”

“She’s coming over later for the party,” he said, going back to work.

“Did you clear that with head of security?” asked Jensen.

“Head of security can suck my dick,” said Michael as he flipped a page.

“Suck your own. I set you up on this date you know,” you said.

“Ah, this is what I missed,” said your dad as he sat at the table playing a game of chess against Chuck.

“If you can imagine they were worse as teenagers,” said Chuck, moving a piece. “You were planning to have more, weren’t you?”

“We were discussing it. Y/N kept asking for siblings,” he said. “Glad she found some.”

“They never got on very well until recently,” said Chuck.

“Dysfunctional family is kind of our thing,” said Michael, reviewing another paper. Your mom took a sip of her drink, giving Brian a smile. You saw him go to hold her hand under the table but he hesitated, your mom taking his anyways. She rested her feet over Chuck’s lap and you shook your head. 

“They’re so loud,” you mumbled to Jensen. You curled into his chest and he gave your waist a light squeeze.

“They’re alright,” he murmured against your neck. “Wait until you meet my family.”

“God I hope they aren’t crazy like mine,” you said.

“No one’s quite at that level,” he chuckled. “They’re not crazy. Just...odd.”

“Your family or mine?”

“Probably both,” he said. “Want to go for a walk before the party?”

“Sure,” you said. You both rolled out of the hammock and said you’d be back soon, Jensen taking your hand as you walked to the front of the house. A car pulled up at the new gate and you let it in, smiling as you saw Nick and his friend climb out of the car.

“How was the flight?” you asked as he stretched out.

“Good. This is Spencer. Spence, Y/N and her boyfriend bodyguard, Jensen,” said Nick. 

“Nice meeting you guys,” he said. “Nick says you’re why Y/N’s dad is back in the picture?”

“Something like that,” said Jensen. “We’re gonna take a quick walk but feel free to show Spencer around the house or take a dip in the pool.”

“We’ll start cooking in about an hour but snack on whatever you like,” you said. You and Jensen gave them a quick wave before you were walking down the street, Doug whistling from his driveway.

“You two kids staying out of trouble?” he asked.

“Only the bad kind,” said Jensen. “See you and the girls at the party in a bit.”

You hummed as you walked, Jensen squeezing your hand when a car went past.

“Your bodyguard rules are a tad conflicting you know,” you said, smiling at him. “Put you between me and a vehicle but if we’re walking on a city street, put myself closer to the street and you closer to alleyways.”

“Not confusing at all. You stay away from the danger,” he said. “I let you slide on some stuff.”

“I have sex with you, Ackles.”

“I know and I wanna keep doing that so I let you slide,” he teased. He bopped your nose and you laughed, slowing down a bit as you hit the quiet stretch of road with lots of trees around. “I was talking to Chuck earlier. He no longer hates me.”

“See? I told you he’d come around.”

“Strong disdain was now in play,” said Jensen. “I still can’t believe I fucked up like that.”

“Well first off, Chuck doesn’t have the high and mighty card to play. His own sons thought for a split second he was capable. Even mom.”

“How’d the family therapy session go this week?” he asked.

“Okay. The boys all cried. Mom and I aren’t gonna go unless they ask us to anymore. Everyone seems okay,” you said.

“Your dad and Chuck are getting along pretty good now,” he said. 

“I don’t know what those three are going to do, honestly. She loves them both still.”

“Sometimes love isn’t enough,” said Jensen.

“I disagree with that sentiment. Sometimes you have to choose if love is more important than other things, things that might be just as vital as love. But I don’t agree that loving someone alone isn’t enough,” you said.

“Quite a hopeless romantic you are,” he said. He threw his arm over your shoulders and kissed the top of your head. “Anyone in particular you’re loving these days?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” you said with a shrug. Your face felt hot, Jensen slowing his walk to almost a crawl. 

“I’m not afraid of you running off on me,” he said. “Not after everything.”

“Good cause you’re important to me,” you said. 

“That what we’re calling it?” he said, your arm sliding around his back, hand settling on his waist. 

“Shut up,” you said, resting your head against his shoulder. You snuggled him for a brief moment before you started walking again, Jensen’s hand grazing your cheek. 

“You’re important to me too,” he said quietly. 

“Okay,” you said. You smiled and you both moved your arms so you could go back to holding hands, Jensen taking his baseball cap off his head and putting it on backwards on your own.

“Can I tell you about what happened to me sometime?” he asked. You turned your head towards him, Jensen shrugging. “You know...the not so great stuff with Hall and all that.”

“Always. I’d never tell a soul,” you said.

“It’s probably not as horrible as whatever you’ve dreamed up in your head,” he said. “But I don’t want you to worry about it anymore. I’m not so scared of you changing your mind about me if you hear it now.”

“I just want to be able to help you the way you’ve helped me,” you said. “That’s what we do.”

“True. I’m still your bodyguard though,” he chuckled.

“Yeah but that’s like an assumed role with you being my boyfriend anyways. I feel like you’ll always be my bodyguard,” you said.

“Always?” he asked. “Always doesn’t sound so bad.”

“You know what I mean,” you said.

“I know,” he said. “A man can dream though.”

“When we met, what was your gut reaction?” 

“Within half an hour of meeting you, I wanted to quit. I knew...I knew there was this something that I don’t know what it was, it just really wanted to know you and make sure you stayed safe. I didn’t think I could do both effectively.”

“So we were both a bit mean to hide things.”

“Well, you are kinda a sassy client. You don’t always listen to me like the time you nearly got a concussion,” he said, bumping your shoulder with a laugh.

“Excuse me but I escaped, not you, and I saved your perky little ass,” you said.

“Oh so you did notice it’s perky,” he said. You rolled your eyes but giggled, Jensen kissing your temple again. “Maybe you can be my bodyguard too.”

“That sounds fun,” you said. “I’m not wearing a suit though.”

“You could just wear what I do.”

“One of your shirts?”

“Yeah, just that’s good,” he said, chuckling as you lightly smacked his chest. “To be honest, I hate the suits. I prefer the laid back look.”

“I prefer anything where I get to see more skin,” you said. “But that does bring up a point I wanted to talk to you about.”

“Yes?”

“If I wanted you to stay on as a bodyguard...for like work and events moreso cause at home I think boyfriend Jensen could handle that job, would you still work for me?” you asked.

“I’d do it for free,” he said. You cocked your head and he shrugged. “I’m serious.”

“Well I’m still gonna pay you. I just wasn’t sure if you wanted something more...exciting,” you said.

“I’m good with quiet. You still have your fair share of crazies out there. Like the stalker guy,” he said, your eyes wide. “I’m joking.”

“Why do I feel like you’re not?” you asked.

“Don’t worry about it,” he said. “You’re safe.”

“Never thought I wasn’t,” you said. “Jensen.”

“Yes?”

“Do you want to get away this weekend? Somewhere quiet before I start filming my movie next month?” you asked.

“Yeah. I’d like that,” he said. “After our epic party tonight of course.”

“It’s not gonna be epic,” you said. “It’s like fifty people max.”

“No, it’ll be epic,” he said. “Cause I got you a present you’re gonna love.”

“Tease. What is it?”

“If you must know,” he said as he pulled out his phone. He handed it to you and tapped the screen, scrolling for a minute before he got where he wanted.

“Plane tickets? For tomorrow to the Maldives?” you asked. “How...Jensen you can’t afford this. You have to let me pay for-”

“Oh, honey. I haven’t paid my own rent, utilities, food in a very long time. That plus these hot shot hollywood types and their fancy contracts? I’m better off than you think I am,” he said. “You like, legit saved my life and made me as happy as I’ve ever been and I just want to take my girl on vacation to a place she’s always wanted to go.”

“Fine but only cause I really want to go with you,” you said. 

“I knew I’d win you over,” he said.

“You did that a while ago,” you said, a guy walking past on the other side of the street. Jensen took his phone back and glanced over his shoulder once he was gone. “A pap again?”

“Yup,” he said, sending a text off to Jake. “Oh wait. I forgot to do my favorite part.”

He turned around with you and let out a loud whistle, the guy spinning around.

“You do know last guy we caught in the neighborhood we got arrested, right?” called out Jensen. The man paused but kept staring. “I see one photo or your ass around again, we’re gonna have problems.”

“He’s really a sweetheart!” you said. “Probably want to get out of here before we come back around though. He’s a tad protective.”

The man walked a bit faster, Jensen chuckling as you both watched him slip in a car and head for the entrance out of the neighborhood.

“Ah, I love doing that,” he said. “I am a sweetheart, aren’t I.”

“Yes, yes you are,” you said. He squeezed your hand and you looked around, not spotting anything out of the ordinary. “What?”

“That one’s just for me,” he said. He kissed your lips, pulling back with a big smile. You kissed his cheek, breaking off and kissing his lips, cupping his face. 

“That one’s for me,” you said.

“Better do it again, just in case,” he said.

“Whatever you say, Mr. Bodyguard.”

_______

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

scopaesthesia 👁️ chapter 2

Warnings: nonconsensual sex, death, murder, violence, stalking, paranoia, blood, gore, and other warnings to be added

This is dark!Bucky Barnes with a likelihood off dark!Steve Rogers as well and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Your stalker gets closer.

Note: Alright, things are ramping up. As always, mind the warnings and take care of yourselves.

Thank you. Love you guys!

As always, if you can, please leave some feedback, like and reblog <3

You didn't sleep much. Shallow spurts laced with fear. Your dreams when they came were vague but horrifying. A shadow, a voice, the feeling of being watched. Always.

You were roused by a creak. You'd left your door half-open last night. 

You sat up, the curtains drawn, and looked around. You rubbed your temple and pushed the covers away from you. You pulled down the hem of your tee and dragged your feet across the room. You elbowed the door open and stepped into the hall.

You looked around the corner into the living room. Bucky sat on the couch where you’d left him the night before. He cradled the tablet on his thigh as he yawned and flicked the screen. 

“Did you sleep at all?” You asked, your throat dry and scratchy. 

“You?” He asked as he looked up. “I just sent the audio into forensics for review. We might be able to run analysis on his voice and they’re working on tracing the call.”

“And what do I do?” You crossed your arms.

“What you’ve been doing,” he set the tablet on the coffee table and stood. He stretched his arms above him, the metal plates of his left contracting as he lowered it. “As far as we know, he has no idea about us. I came in the back and to be honest, as a civilian, you react before you think. He called you to make sure you were still here. To reassure himself that not all was lost.”

“How do you know this? Do you deal with this often?”

“Well, no, I deal with assassins and spies more often but… well, I can’t divulge the extent of our intelligence. I can only say that what we found sets him on par with my usual work.”

“Wouldn’t it be safer if I actually knew what was going on?” You prodded.

“No, trust me. You know what you need to.” He said staunchly.

You poked the inside of your cheek with your tongue and shrugged. “You want a coffee?”

“If you’re making some,” he rubbed his nose as he watched you cross the room, “I’ll leave before you but… I’ll be around.”

“Like last night?” You challenged.

“That’s on me. I shouldn’t have been so careless but the next time he calls, you won’t be alone.”

“Apparently I haven’t been for a while,” you said. “If he has my number, what else does he have?”

“Think about what you have. You have me and the whole of S.H.I.E.L.D. behind you,” he reproached. “And let me tell you, when I’m given a mission, I complete it.”

“I want to believe you,” you said as you took out the canister of coffee, “I really do.”

👁️

You were distracted on your way to work. The voice lingered in your head, the words. The necklace bouncing over the collar of your coat was barely a comfort. What would Bucky do if the killer appeared right then? Could he get to your fast enough? He said he’d be close, watching, but was he closer than your stalker?

You picked a ball of lint from your glove as you ran up the station steps and onto the street. Once you were at work you could forget. You’d be surrounded by people; co-workers, clients, and the occasional messenger. For once, the ringing phone welcomed you. You knew what awaited you on the other end; an appointment to be made or a transfer to another part of the office. Simple.

Your boss, Mr. Drousseau, was often first to the office. He was unlocking the door as you rounded the corner. He cradled a vase of flowers against him, his briefcase clutched in his hand, as he twisted the key and tried to open the door with his other arm. You rushed forward as the door threatened to fall shut again.

“Here,” you grabbed the door and he blinked at you in surprise. “I got it.”

He grunted and wrenched his key out before stepping inside. You followed as he crossed to your desk and plunked the vase down. He flicked a petal from his shoulder as he turned back to you.

“What are those?” You looked at the long-stemmed tulips; out of season and no doubt expensive. “Is your wife--?”

“Some carrier just handed them off,” He set his briefcase on a chair in the waiting area and took off his long jacket. “They’ve got your name on them?”

“What?” You neared the desk and took the card. Your name was scrawled in slanted letters on the front. You placed your bag beside the vase and carefully opened the card. “I don’t know who--”

You almost dropped the cardstock but instead closed it again. Your cheek twitched as you looked up at Drousseau and tapped the card with your fingernail. 

“A surprise from my father,” you lied. “He lives so far away…”

“Mmm,” Drousseau nodded as he hung his jacket. “Well, next time, tell him to have them sent to you directly.”

“Sure. Yeah, sorry,” you kept the card between two fingers as you unzipped your coat. “I’ll send you a copy of today’s roster.”

He grumbled as he grabbed his briefcase and jingled his keys as he went to his office door. He paused as he unlocked the door. “Coffee.” He said. “Espresso if you’re feeling particularly generous.”

You smiled at his back and let out a sigh only when his door closed behind him. He saw you as a glorified barista and didn’t seem to realise that you organised the chaos of his own success. Without you, he wouldn’t know which way was up. Well, he might learn that soon enough.

You slipped out of your coat and hung it. You pinched the card and shuddered as you carefully opened it again. There were no words on the inside. Only a stark, red splotch. You ran your thumb over it and the edge flaked away. It couldn’t be… blood. 

But what else would it be? Who else would send them?

You closed the card and crumpled it in your hand. Panic squeezed your heart and you raced to the paper shredder hidden behind the copier. You flicked the switch and fed the card into the machine. The grind of the blade echoed your stomach. You hadn’t eaten that morning; you couldn’t.

You looked down at the flower dangling from your neck. You spoke to it quietly. “He sent flowers,” you felt crazy, like you were talking to yourself, “What does that mean?”

Your phone vibe in your bag on the desk and you stepped past your chair. You fished around for your cell and pulled it out.

‘It means he’s trying to scare you,’ Bucky’s text flashed across the screen, quickly followed by another. ‘Don’t let him. I’m here.’

You shook your hand and didn’t reply. You put your phone face down on your desk and touched your temples. You weren’t sure that anyone, even Bucky, could keep you safe.

👁️

It was only the flowers that day. You spent much of your working hours watching the door. You watched over your shoulder on your way home, convinced that every fellow pedestrian and passenger was a monster. When you got to your apartment, you locked the door and checked every inch of your apartment. 

As you paced, your phone shook. You stared at it until it stilled and then it began again. You answered it shakily and let out a long breath as Bucky’s voice rose from the speaker.

“You’re not responding to me. You can’t do that. I need to make certain you’re safe at all times. That’s my job. You understand?” He chided.

“You have the bug, don’t you? You can hear everything.” You sat and fidgeted on the couch. “And you’re close. You’d know if anyone… if anyone…”

“Yes, but you’re cooperation only helps, alright?” He said. “I know you’re scared but right now he’s just playing games. He’s trying to make you do something stupid so don’t do that. You’re doing exactly what he wants; you’re panicking.”

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” you hissed, “That’s the point.”

“Go to your window. The one away from the street in your bedroom.” He said.

“What?”

“Just do it and look up a few floors.”

You sniffed and stood up. You went to your room and rounded the bed. You pulled aside the curtain and searched the brick building just across the alley. A small glint came through a window only three floors up. You heard a tap on the other end; the sound of metal on glass.

“See. I’m close. You’re safe. He won’t get any closer than me. I promise.” He said.

“Oh, uh,” you stepped back from the window. “Okay. I… thank you.”

“It’s my job,” he said, “And yours is to get some rest. You’re no good exhausted. That’s what he wants.”

“Okay,” you mumbled.

The line clicked and you sat on the foot of your bed. You dropped your phone to the mattress and took a breath. You got up slowly and went to the bathroom. You closed the door and looked at yourself in the mirror. You unclasped the necklace and hung it from the cabinet handle to keep from losing it. You undressed blindly and let your clothes heap on the floor.

The rings of the shower curtain chimed as you pulled it open and placed the stopper in the drain. You turned the faucet until it steam and stepped into the rising flood. You stretched before you lowered yourself down into the tub. Your stiff muscles loosened and you felt the day float away.

Just a moment of peace before it would all come back. Just a moment to yourself.

👁️

The next morning was unusually sunny though the night had been little different. Despite your fatigue, sleep was still elusive. Even when you did manage to dose, it was shallow and unsatisfying. You woke with a weight in the back of your head and finished two cups of coffee before you readied for your last day of work before the weekend.

The tulips remained on your desk. You’d forgotten about them even with the stream of compliments on the bouquet. You’d offered it to several coworkers but had met only with polite refusal. You sat and set yourself up as Drousseau shuffled around in his office. 

Your first call of the day was easy enough. One of Drousseau’s oldest clients needed to be patched through. You hit transfer but before you could put the phone down, it rang again. You hit answer and gave your usual greeting.

“You like the flowers?” The same, eerie voice as two nights before. “They made me think of you.”

“What?” You breathed as you pushed yourself away from the desk and your chair rolled back until the spiral cord was taut. “What do you--”

“You’re not the rose type. You’re so sweet. So pure, baby girl.” He continued as your stomach plummeted. You looked around at the flurry of activity around you; the whir of the copier, the clacking of keys, the quiet chatter of employees. It was surreal. “Someone like you in a world like this is made to be used.”

“I don’t know what you want from me. I’m at work. You can’t call here--” Your cell vibed beside your keyboard as you tried to keep your voice down.

“I can do whatever I want, baby girl. I have done everything I want when I want… except you… no, you need to wait. It has to be the right way.” He snarled. “Yes, soon. You will be ready soon.”

“Please--”

The line went dead as your cell began to buzz incessantly. You slammed down the receiver and grabbed your mobile as it shook. You stood and looked around. No one seemed to notice your distress. You stormed off to the restroom and closed yourself in. You slid your finger across the screen and held it to your ear.

“Bucky?” You croaked.

“It’s me.” He confirmed. “You alright? That him?”

“Y-yes,” you trembled as you braced the sink. “He said… he said soon. Bucky, he’s going to kill me. I know it.”

“Shhhh, please, take a breath.” He coaxed. “And count, like I showed you.”

“I can’t, I can’t, I can’t,” you whined. “Please, I can’t do this.”

“Breathe,” he ordered, “One…” He began to count as you stared in the mirror. You nodded in time until your breaths evened out and you huffed into the phone. “Good, good. Now, you have to act like everything is alright. Stay at work. You’re safe there.”

“And… after?”

“You know I’ll be there. I already am, alright? I know everyone who walks through that door, honey. You trust me?”

Your lashes fluttered and you let go of the sink. ‘Honey.’ Your mind lingered on that word but you quickly shrugged it off.

“I do,” you said, “You’ll protect me.”

“I will,” he assured you. “This creep is no match for me.”

“Yeah,” you murmured, “Okay. I’m alright. I gotta go back.”

“Alright,” he said softly. “I’ll be here.”

👁️

When work was done, you didn’t go directly to the subway. You needed to sleep and you needed to forget. There was one way to do both; alcohol. Just down the block was a liquor store. You’d grab a bottle of wine and be on your way. A brief detour before you could hide once more in your boxlike apartment.

You crossed the street and a figure caught in the corner of your eye. You reached into your pocket and pulled out your phone as you turned down the sidewalk. You held up the cell and angled it so you could see the reflection over your shoulder. There was a man a few feet behind; he was tall but walking slowly with his head down, a hood casting shadows over his face. You slowly lowered your phone and squeezed until you thought it would break.

You neared the door of the shop. You knew he was still there. You dipped through the door and the chirp of the sensor made your flinch. You quickly flitted to the back aisle of scotch and whiskey and peered back to the front. The man in the hoodie passed the window but peered back at you as he did.

“A man,” you pulled out the necklace from beneath your jacket, “There’s a man following me. I saw him.”

Your phone quaked and you dropped the necklace. You fumbled with your cell and pretended to browse the aged malts. 

“I see him but I can’t see his face.” Bucky said. 

“I didn’t either. What do I do?”

“Stay calm. What are you even doing?”

“I was… gonna get some wine.” You went to the aisle of imports and scanned the shelves. “That’s all.”

“Well, get whatever and go home. Don’t worry about this creep. I’ll deal with him.” Bucky said. “He’s probably not even our guy, just another dirtbag.”

“What do you mean?”

“Just buy your wine and get to the train.” He hung up bluntly and you sighed.

You grabbed a cabernet and went to the counter. You paid and hid the bottle in your bucket bag. You reluctantly pushed through the door and swiftly turned down the street. The man was behind you. You checked again with your phone, this time with your camera on. You snapped a pic over your shoulder and quickly tucked it into your sleeve.

You looked up and saw another hooded man heading towards you. You almost tripped as he passed you and recognized Bucky’s short stubble poking out. You didn’t stop as a commotion rose behind you.

“Watch it,” Bucky growled. No response and you ran across the street. 

You hurried on and stopped at the corner to look back. Bucky stood with arms crossed against the front of a convenience store and the other man was gone. He nodded and pushed himself away from the chipped brick. You turned back and raced to the subway.

Home, home, home. Just get home.

👁️

Your apartment was already dark when you got home. The days grew shorter and shorter as the winter threatened to storm down on the city. You plopped your bottle of wine on the counter and kicked off your shoes. You hung your bag and coat from the rack and checked your phone.

‘Text when home.’ Bucky’s message seared into your vision.

You sent your response and uncorked the bottle. You poured yourself a glass and carried it to the living room with your cell. You left them on the coffee table as you went to change. You dumped your blouse, skirt, and thick stockings into the hamper along with your bra and panties. You took the necklace off and set it on your night table.

You pulled on a pair of pajama bottoms and an old tee. You scooped up the necklace and took it with you into the front room. You hung it from the lamp beside the couch and took a gulp of wine as you searched for something to watch. The alcohol burned your hungry stomach.

A knock came at the door and you nearly choked as you set your glass down. You peered through the hole. It was Bucky. You unlocked the door and pulled it open.

“What are you doing here?”

“That was pretty creepy,” he said as he stepped past you without welcome. “Wanted to make sure you were okay. I’ve cased the entire building. Didn’t see him around.”

“You think he would’ve followed me here? You said it was likely not him.”

“Maybe not but the guy was leery enough to follow you to the store,” Bucky went to the window and looked out. “You need to tell me when you change your plans.”

“Sorry, I-- It wasn’t far so I thought--”

“If you’re as scared as you’re acting, you’ll get your shit together and listen to me.” He closed the blinds. “You take a detour like that and that’s trouble for both of us.”

He rounded the armchair and neared the coffee table. He ran a metal finger around the rim of your glass. “Hope it was worth it.”

“I’m sorry,” you said again, “I didn’t mean to--”

“You need something, you tell me. I’ll take care of it.” He interrupted. “You go anywhere, you clear it with me. We’re not fucking around anymore.”

“Bucky, I…” you pouted. “I didn’t--”

“Look, I’m not mad but I have to be strict. We don’t have room for mistakes.” He neared you and his face softened. “It’s for your own good, honey.”

You stared at him and reached to the collar of his jacket. He unzipped it and backed away to hang it over your own. You frowned.

“I already sent in an incident report. The Director said I should keep close watch tonight. Just in case.”

“Oh,” you watched him unlace his boots. “I… Okay?”

“I don’t mean to crowd you but better safe than sorry.” He stood.

“Right,” you sidled past him, “You want any wine?”

“Nah,” he waved you off, “Stuff doesn’t really do anything for me.”

You nodded and went back to the couch. You sat and hit continue watching. You picked at your fingernail anxiously. Bucky sat on the other side of the couch and groaned. He stretched his fingers and they cracked loudly.

“You hungry? I can order something? I don’t feel much like cooking.” You offered.

“If you’re hungry,” he shrugged. “You must be.”

You played with your phone and set it down to take another drink. “You like Chinese?”

“Sure,” he said, “Whatever you want, honey.”

You grabbed your phone and tried to hide your discomfort. Were you just rattled from the hooded creep? Paranoid because your life had turned into a murder mystery? Or was this man crossing a line?

You opened up the app and scrolled to the meal for two. You confirmed the order and put your phone on the arm of the couch. “About half an hour,” you said.

You looked over as Bucky reached up to the lamp and played with the necklace. He slowly retracted his hand and chuckled.

“You know, you talk in your sleep,” he chuckled. “Necklace picks it up sometimes.”

“I do?” You wondered.

“Nothing really. Doesn’t really make sense.” He smirked. “But… it’s kinda funny.”

“Oh,” you sat back. You wanted another mouthful of wine but you were already almost done your first glass. “Weird.”

You crossed your arms and looked at the television. Everything was weird. The murders, your stalker, and even this man they sent to protect you. It was all just a little off and that scared you even more.

👁️

When the food arrived, Bucky got up to answer the door. You ate at the coffee table and finished your second glass of wine. The alcohol helped your appetite and for the first time in days, you managed to eat more than a few bites. Bucky didn’t need any help as he threw back fried rice and back ribs.

You cleaned up after and tossed the containers in the trash. You were a little tipsy as you flopped onto the couch and rated your meal on the app. Bucky filled your glass for you and returned the bottle to the kitchen before taking his place once more. You thanked him and took a sip.

“Thought you weren’t exactly happy about this,” you raised the glass.

“I can’t blame you. Hell, if I could get anything out of it, I’d have a glass of my own.” He mused. “So, the phone call, we need to go over what he said to you. Obviously, I couldn’t hear it.”

“Right now?” You set your glass down.

“Before I forget,” he reached into his pocket and took out his own phone. He opened up the notepad. “Doesn’t have to be exact.”

“He didn’t say… much…” You began and you regretted the two glasses of wine. “He said I… I was pure… and that…” Your cheeks burned and you felt the flutter of nerves, “He wants to use me and…” You swallowed as your lips quivered, “He said soon. That he would do something soon.”

You grabbed your wine and drank deeply. 

“That’s all. That’s all he said.” You put the glass down and held your head. “I don’t know what to do.”

“You’re doing all you can,” his hand settled gently on your back and you winced. He rubbed lightly as he shifted closer and placed his phone on the table. “And you got me.”

“Yeah, but I-- I don’t know if you can stop him.” You looked at him as tears blurred your vision. “And I don’t know what I did to make him do all this. He’s killed others because of me and… And how am I supposed to live with that?”

“He did that, not you,” Bucky insisted, “It’s not your fault--”

Your phone slipped from the arm of the couch suddenly as it vibrated. Bucky’s hand dropped away as you took your cell. You held up the flashing screen. There was no number, not even ‘Private’ or ‘Unknown’. Just the two icons; answer or ignore.

You hovered your thumb over the latter and Bucky stopped you. He shook his head as you looked at him. “Answer it.”

You grimaced and he let you go. He moved away from you and you hesitated. You hit answer and the screen lit up. It was a video call. You saw a white ceiling and heard the muffled sobbing of a woman. Goosebumps rose on your skin as the camera moved erratically and the colours blurred together and cleared to form the image of a woman’s face.

She had a gag in her mouth, tied in place by a black piece of fabric. Tears stained her cheeks as she squirmed. 

“Baby girl,” the voice spoke from offscreen as a gloved hand appeared holding a knife. It dragged the edge down the woman’s cheek as she squealed. “She’s nothing. Nothing compared to you.”

You were frozen, weighed down with dread and fear as you sat gaping at the screen.

“I’ll show you…” He turned the knife. “Show you that she can never be you. That there is only you.”

The hand moved so fast and drew a sudden line of red across the woman’s throat. The cut gushed as the woman choked on the gag and her own blood. The sickening noise of her death filled your ears and the man moaned your name. The screen went black and you dropped your phone.

“Oh my god,” you gasped as you shook violently and the alcohol bubbled in your stomach, “Oh my god, oh my god.” 

You stood dizzily and fell back on the couch. Bucky touched your arm and you pulled away as you bent over the side of the couch at the sudden revolt inside of you. You wretched onto the hardwood as tears spilled from your eyes. Your body contracted as you were overwhelmed in fear and revulsion.

“Oh my god,” you cried, “Oh my god…” 

Bucky pulled you back to him and stretched his arm over your shoulders. He hushed you as he hugged you to him and rocked you back and forth.

“You’re okay, honey. There was nothing you could do,” he said, “Shh, calm down. Breathe…” He caressed your head as he held you, “Just breathe. I’m here.”

[prettywordsyouleft]

Water Is Our Thing

Pairing: Bang Chan x female reader

Genre: fluff

World: The Water Guy

Warnings: stripping down to underwear

Prompt: “I love the ocean.” - #14 of Idea Starters

A/N: Finally, a sequel to my first Chan story I wrote. I really loved that world and have always meant to return to it. I hope those who enjoyed the first story can enjoy this also.

Word count: 2292

“The Water Guy, huh?”

Glancing up at your roommate’s teasing, you shifted your phone out of Eunhee’s view and got up from your bed you had been lounging on. “His name is Chan.”

“Is that who you’ve been messaging day in and out with since the party?”

You didn’t deny it, though you also didn’t answer verbally. As much as you adored Eunhee, you were still a little frustrated with her behaviour from that night.

Had you not gone to the party, nor sat down in the corner of it after feeling ridiculed for your love of water, perhaps you wouldn’t have met Chan there.

You were grateful for that.

Equally, you weren’t prepared to give her too many details just yet. Whilst you had a good time at the party with Chan, and subsequently held many engaging conversations over messenger, it was all starting to feel a little too good to be true.

“So when will you meet with Chan next?” Eunhee enquired, and you shrugged. Diving onto the spot you had been sprawled out on, Eunhee’s eyes grew round. “You haven’t sorted out a date yet?”

“We’re just chatting, Eunhee.”

“Chatting doesn’t lead to kissing,” she proclaimed, and you rolled your eyes, slipping your phone into your pocket and headed out to the refrigerator to grab a bottle of water.

Eunhee followed, taking it out of your hand before you could open it. You spun around to face her.  “Hey!”

“Why not use the excuse of the bottle of water to get some time with him?”

You rolled your eyes. “I highly doubt he needs to meet with me just for me to buy him another bottle of water. Besides, I was the one to give Chan one first. And he’s already replaced that.”

“So?! Keep the water exchange going. I don’t remember an awful lot from that night, but I know whenever I looked in your direction, you were smiling brightly and laughing all the time. You don’t get that kind of opportunity often, Y/N.”

“There’s no rush,” you answered, taking the bottle from Eunhee’s hand and headed back into your bedroom, shutting the door behind you.

Glancing at the bottle of water in your hand, you then placed it down on your desk before reaching into your pocket for your phone. Staring at the two objects, you sighed.

The truth was you felt too nervous to ask Chan to meet up. Although the conversation flowed easily between you, you had somehow convinced yourself that the flirtation was just friendly banter instead.

Chan was generous with his kindness, and you had had enough time between the party and now to convince yourself the feelings you had that night might be construed from interest to friendship.

Having Chan as a friend would be a great thing too. Even if you harboured feelings for him already.

Hearing the messenger notification go off, you unlocked your phone and looked at the screen.

So what are you up to today? Do you want to meet up?

It seemed that Chan was making the first step to figuring out what this was between you.

“I’m glad you came out today,” Chan mentioned with an easy smile, and you reciprocated it, nodding once.

“I’m actually glad too.”

“Beats being at home studying, right?” You shrugged, and Chan whistled lowly. “Oh, so you’d rather a book’s company than mine?”

Giggling, you didn’t answer, simply walked along the boardwalk towards the restaurant you had agreed to have dinner at. Chan shifted in front of you, walking backwards whilst he grinned at you. You frowned. “Why are you doing that?”

“I’m just looking.”

“You’re going to end up falling over!”

“Nah, I’ve got good balance,” he commented, still staring at you. It unsettled your heartbeat, now thumping erratically in your chest.

Chan seemed satisfied after a moment more and swung back around, falling into step beside you.

Dinner was easy. The conversation, the sharing of meals, everything seemed to be effortless, much as it had been at the party. You continued the playful banter that had been established the first time you met, and by the time dessert arrived on the table, your sides ached from all the genuine laughter you had shared.

It wasn’t until it was time to go and pay for the meals that you got nervous. Pulling out your purse, you began calculating your share of the meal out loud. Inwardly, you were observing Chan’s reaction.

Would he swoop in and cover your amount? Then you could confirm this was a date and not just friends meeting up.

However, this also was an outdated thought. You could pay for your meal and still be on a date. Modern dating was more equal across the board, and you nodded to yourself, producing your card from your purse and stepped forward to pay.

Chan seemed thrown by the action but didn’t say anything either.

“Dinner was lovely,” you offered as you walked back down the boardwalk towards the car park.

“The night is still young, though, right?” Chan suggested and quickly pointed to the beach. “Shall we take a walk?”

“Sure! I have a brownie I need to digest,” you replied with a laugh, and Chan nudged you.

“It was pretty good.”

“You should know. You ate half of mine.”

“How was my sundae then?” he asked with a grin, and you laughed.

“Creamy.”

The chatter continued as Chan helped you down some rocks until you were on the dunes, a sudden imbalance toppling you into his side. Gripping onto his shirt so you didn’t fall completely, you felt his arms encircle your waist to support you.

“Easy there,” he breathed, and you were thankful the moon wasn’t bright in the sky tonight, hoping the flame of embarrassment wasn’t too obvious.

You thought he would step aside once you were upright, but a hand seemed to linger at your side, sometimes touching the small of your back or guiding you by the elbow away from the debris in the sand that wasn’t visible until you were almost on top of it.

Feeling more at ease with his touch and your heart finally stabilising over it all, you smiled up at Chan. “This is a date, right?”

“Took you long enough to ask,” he answered bemusedly, letting out an elongated breath after. “Is it?”

“I want it to be.”

“Why did you doubt that it was? I mean, I don’t let just anyone eat my sundae.”

You smirked. “That’s handy to know.”

“I liked you from the moment I sat down next to you at the party,” Chan confessed, and you gazed out at the sea whilst you silently rejoiced the reciprocation of feelings. “Maybe you put a spell over me.”

“The water was mixed with a love potion,” you agreed with a laugh, and Chan clutched at his heart dramatically.

“This is leading to love?! Oh no, all I wanted was some water.”

“Well, there’s plenty out there.” You gestured to the ocean, and Chan grinned, tugging you towards the wet sand.

Shrieking and trying to get away, you managed to hold up the shoes you had removed along the way and your skirt’s hem from the waves rolling in.

Looking around you both, Chan then chucked his sneakers up onto the dry sand. You questioned the behaviour until he started to unbutton his shirt. Discarding your own shoes, you then dashed to his side, eyes round. “What are you doing?!”

“You offered up the ocean. Aren’t you keen? I love the water.”

Frazzled, you nodded and then shook your head. “I love the ocean too, but I’m not about to just get undressed right here and… and-”

“Why not? We’re the only ones here. You do have underwear on, right?”

“What if I don’t?” you challenged, trying not to outwardly stare at his exposed chest.

He definitely was a swimmer, you deduced from the brief look you took at his defined torso.

Chan chuckled. “Well, I’m in for a treat then.”

“Are we seriously doing this?” you asked as Chan’s hands dropped to his pants.

Looking at you, he shrugged. “Why not?”

“Fine,” you concluded, reaching for the belt around your waist on the skirt.

You focused on removing your layers instead of looking in Chan’s direction, and you felt the same respect given to you. He lingered until you were ready, and once your outer layers were off, you dashed towards the sea, running into it and wading out until the water was up to your ribs. Chan caught up with you then, and you playfully flicked water at him, a gasp leaving him at the impromptu attack.

Flinging water back at forth at one another, you played for a few minutes before a wave gently rolled you closer to Chan.

And then a surge of passion crashed down on you both. Kissing him with demand with your bodies now flush, you were instantly overwhelmed. The salty kissing, the hot and cold temperature of the water and your bodies mixing was a sensory overload. You only parted long enough to catch your breath before you wound your hands up into his hair and enclosed the gap between your lips again, drowning with the lust enveloping you.

Chan’s grip tightened, holding you to him, not ready to let you wash back to shore as the waves rolled over you.

Eventually, the embrace softened, merely staring back at one another as your chests heaved with the exertion of what just happened. Chan tenderly hooked a strand of your hair behind your ear. “I like the ocean a whole lot more now.”

“Water is our thing, huh?”

“Don’t say that to me with where my mind is right now,” he warned with a chuckle. You cocked your head to the side in confusion, and he adorably reached out to peck your lips before explaining. “I want a few more dates with you before I bring a shower into this.”

“Chan!” you cried and slapped his upper arm, laughing all the same.

You could understand his thought process. The physical attraction surging throughout you right now quite easily imagined how things could progress between you.

But you were equally grateful that he wanted several more dates before getting to that level of intimacy.

“Should we go see if I’ve got some towels in my car?”

You rolled your eyes. “We should have checked before coming out here.”

“Damp clothes aren’t the worst thing, are they?” he wondered, and you shook your head, taking the hand he held out to you to head back up to the beachfront.

Although his hands had run up and down your curves in the water, once on land, Chan was polite enough to put his back to you as you tugged your clothes over your wet skin. And once dressed, you shared a shy giggle and linked hands again, walking back up to the car park.

Towels were found, though with your clothes now back on, it wasn’t so much for drying but for warmth. Wrapping you up in one, Chan then pulled you into him, rubbing his hands up and down your back to help you out. Glancing out from your towel burrito, you stretched to place a kiss on his jawline, ceasing his action.

“I had fun.”

“I hope so.”

“Why is it so easy between us?” you asked, and Chan became thoughtful, his gaze soon shifting back to the sea.

“Maybe water is our thing,” he announced, and before you could tease him about it, he continued. “We’re able to connect like we do because we’re made of the same stuff.”

“Well, the human body is made up of around sixty-percent of water.”

Chan gave you a dry look. “I was trying to be inspirational.”

“I heard you, loud and clear,” you assured, nuzzling into him. “So, what’s our next water date going to be?”

“You mean I’m going to get you out of your clothes again?” he taunted, and you sighed heavily. “I’m kidding. Maybe we can go visit a pool?”

“Or a lake.”

“A waterfall sounds nice.”

“So does a shower right about now,” you cheekily threw out there, and Chan cursed under his breath.

“I think you should go home and have a shower to warm up again.”

“You too.”

“And then we’ll have to plan our next outing,” Chan added, and you smiled happily.

“It doesn’t have to just be with water.”

“I know,” he told you, kissing you softly. “But for now, water is our thing. And I don’t want to let this opportunity wash away.”

“I see what you did there.”

“I could share more puns.”

“I’m looking forward to hearing all of them.”

“Because you’re anchored to me?” he suggested, and you groaned. Chan laughed. “Too much?”

“I’m really glad I had that bottle of water at that party.”

“Can I make a confession?” Chan stared at you for a moment, a smile slowly creeping upon his lips. “I didn’t approach you because you had water.”

“What?”

“There was a tap in the kitchen. I could have gotten a drink from there,” he explained, and you wondered why that never dawned on you. Chan moistened his lips. “I uh, came over because I wanted to know who you were.”

“Wow.”

Delighted, you soaked in the statement and then tilted your head to the side again. “And now that you know a little more about me, are you happy that you came over?”

“I’ll let you know once we’ve graduated to showering together,” he wickedly answered.

Instead of laughing at his playfulness, you merely grinned. “We’ll see how the next water date goes first. Who knows if we’ll even make it to that shower.”

_________________

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[thesnowinthemountains]

Monsta X as the guy who hits on you in a bookstore

(a/n: I work in a used bookstore and this is entirely self-indulgent, please enjoy.)

Shownu

Your intention for the day was to find a vegan cookbook for your best friend, so you wandered over to the cooking section of the bookshop after having already scoured the stacks of fiction and fantasy, taking your own pick. Knelt near the bottom shelf was a young man. You couldn’t quite see his face but his hair was fluffy and promising. He stood up abruptly to his full six foot of height, towering over you, his eyebrows knit together in full concentration. He was flipping through a book on baking, something seemingly too soft for someone of his stature. He glanced over at you while you searched the shelves on your own quest. “Uh…” You turned to him. “Yes?” He seemed taken aback that you had even heard him, staring at you wide-eyed. “Sorry, um, do you know anything about cooking?” He asked quickly. “Some. What do you want to know?” He proceeded to ask a few questions, explaining he wanted to bake cupcakes for a friend’s birthday, double-goaled to both impress and surprise them with actual baking skills. After a few minutes of conversation and light laughter, he shut the book he’d been holding and turned fully to you. “Do you think I could have your phone number or something? I think I would be better at this with a little help…”

Wonho

“Do you- do you work here?” A tentative voice asked from the end of the bookshelf you were currently rummaging through. “I don’t, but I understand your confusion,” you chuckled, contemplating the stack at your feet and the fact that your hands were between books in the shelf. “Oh, well, do you know about books?” You turned to find an incredibly well-sculpted man. He looked entirely out of place but sounded so shy, and you were immediately taken by the messy black hair and large glasses over his nose. “I do. Why?” You stood up fully, also determining he stood a good few inches over you. “I- This is kind of a thing,” he paced over. “It’s my little niece’s birthday next week, she loves reading, it’s all she ever does. I have no idea what to get her, but I know it needs to be a book. I even, look,” he pulled out his phone, “I took a picture of the books she already has so I don’t buy the same ones.” You looked at the screen, recognizing titles from when you were in your very early teens. “Oh, I can definitely help with that. Um, just... “ You peered down at the books you had previously picked out, still on the floor and waiting to be brought home. “I’ll help you if you carry my books.” “Oh, absolutely,” he bent down as soon as you said it.

Minhyuk

“Why won’t you just let me play Green Day, though?” You whined at your boss for the millionth time that week. You had recently gotten a job at a local used bookstore and had rapidly adapted to your small team of coworkers, mostly by taking over the radio which was overly used to Phil Collins and Bryan Adams. You added life to the boutique. “Listen, I like Green Day as much as the next guy, but half of our customer base is little old ladies, I’m not sure they’re super down with pop punk on a Monday night,” your boss replied. “Which album?” Minhyuk jumped in. He came in every now and then, always a mischievous glimmer in his eye. Today was just the same. “American Idiot,” you replied. “Oh, well, that’s a classic, you have to let her play it.” Minhyuk shrugged, turning to your boss. “She’s clearly got great taste, come on.” “There you go, see? Even he wants Green Day!” You pouted. “Sorry, guys, no can do.” You manager sighed. You scoffed, turning to Minhyuk with a pout. “Party pooper.” Minhyuk pulled his tongue before throwing a smirk your way.

Kihyun

He was a regular at the bookstore you worked at. It was a used bookstore, selling anything and everything literary for dirt cheap and he would come in every few weeks with an empty box ready to fill. He would sit on the floor if he had to, scouring the shelves. Every time you checked him out, you would peak at the titles, feigning checking prices. “Have you read this one?” He asked the last time, pointing to one with a black cover, gold lettering. “I haven’t, but I’ve heard plenty about it. I was actually planning to buy it tonight before leaving, but you beat me to it.” He smiled to himself, seeing an opportunity he’d been waiting for. “Well, you’ll just have to borrow it from me, won’t you?” You looked up. “I guess I might.”

Hyungwon

You were hurrying past the romance section into fantasy which had been moved to the back of the store, according to an employee. You were frowning, disappointed your favorite section didn’t sell enough to be featured front and center, overall just stuck in your own head. In front of a showy display for a new release in romance was an ethereally good-looking young man in a long coat, hair falling into his face. He made you almost stop in your tracks, steps hiccupping. He looked up at you. “Do you know anything about romance novels?” He asked casually. You frowned again. “No.” “Right. My mom sent me to get something for her, but I don’t remember the title, so I’m kind of just hoping I’ll find it.” “Ask an employee?” You hid a smile. The answer seemed simple enough. “I would. I don’t remember the author’s name either, just the cover. Describing it as a ‘woman in a man’s embrace with the sky in the background’ well- I don’t think it’ll get me anywhere looking at this.” “Not particularly,” you laughed despite yourself. “What are you here for?” He looked up at you suddenly, and his eyes were so pretty it took you a second to answer. “The, uh, fantasy… section…” “Take me there.” “What?” You asked, confused. “I don’t know, anywhere’s better than here. I have to call my mom. Where’s the fantasy section?” He looked over the shelves and it occurred to you he was tall enough to actually see the section signs over the shelves. 

Jooheon

You had somehow been following each other through the little boutique. It wasn’t intentional, but clearly you had similar taste. He was cute, tall, and you didn’t mind. He knelt down to look at the section for fiction authors whose last names begin in K, then stood up abruptly, turning to L, then M, clearly looking for something. You continued on skimming the shelves. He cleared his throat. "Can I show you something?” He asked you, finally breaking the silence. “Sure,” you replied, eyes wide. He smiled to himself and pulled out a book. “This book here has a photo of me as a kid on it." “Oh,” you giggled despite yourself. So he was sweet, too. 

Changkyun

This was your absolute favorite little shop in the city, one that mostly contained books but often sold all sorts of knickknacks you couldn’t help but wonder about. Where did they even come from? Some had you staring for too long, wondering what they even did. You could spend well over an hour in there, going through the bookshelves, more often than not going home arms full of books, and tonight was no different to the exception of snow lightly floating down outside, covering everything in a dreamy coat of shimmery white. In the shop with you were the owner, at this point almost a friend to you, and a boy surely around your age. He was staring at an old film reel toy on the top of the cash counter, frowning. “It’s a toy,” you offered, waiting for the shop owner to be finished punching your books’ titles into the register.  “Yeah, I’m just wondering what the reel shows. I had one when I was little.” “Well, look at it,” you shrugged. He glanced up at you, small smile hovering over his features before grabbing the red plastic thing in his hand and holding it up. The owner gave you your total and you pulled out your card. “Dinosaurs.” The guy said. “Oh?” “Yeah. Very cool.” He bit his lip and laid it back on the counter while you piled your books, regretting not bringing a bag and questioning how in the hell you were going to take these home through the metro system without dropping them. “You need help with that?” The boy came over. “Uh, sure, but it’s sort of a ride.” “I don’t mind,” he took some books out of your hands. “I read this one, actually. And this one. That one. You’ll have to tell me how you like- sorry, what am I saying?” He laughed to himself. “Well, maybe I will,” you cocked your head, thinking him cute.

[onewithnomightypowers]

clandestine (chapter 6)

PAIRING: Tom Holland x fem!Reader

SUMMARY: Y/N is an up and coming actress, married to a once hotshot actor, Harrison (Haz). What happens when her co-star, Tom, makes her realise that she is stuck in a loveless marriage. A marriage starts crumbling and a new romance stars brewing.

chapter 6: beautiful songs always end

A/N: i do not encourage cheating. i hope you guys like this chapter!! we are so near to the end. only one chapter left!!! feedback is always appreciated. thanks for reading <3

warnings: drinking, cursing, mention of pregnancy and miscarriage 

word count: 1.8k

important: bold and italic are character thoughts

series masterlist   main masterlist   chapter 5   chapter 7

It was the first Monday of September, the beginning of an eleven-day affair, that is, TIFF. The air was slightly chilly in Toronto but full of possibilities. It was Y/N’s first time at a major film festival. Her film was to screen on the second day. The main cast and the director were invited to MTV’s opening night party. Just an ordinary girl between Hollywood’s A-listers, saying she was intimidated, was the understatement of the year.

The party was at a downtown bar. All her friends had left her alone, well, the other two people who were attending the festivities with her. The only place she could find to calm her nerves was the bar.

Two old fashions will do the trick.

She ordered both of them together, saving her the time. She was about to finish her first drink when she picked up her second, with the first glass still on her lips. Her eyes were shut with the pleasure of a burn in her throat by the whiskey.

“Easy tiger”, a grinning Harrison said, standing by her side, resting his arm on the bar counter.

She laughed in her glass, Y/N opened her eyes to see who said it.

“Oh my god, you’re Harrison. I watched your movie today, it was so good”

His ocean blue eyes really pop in that navy shirt.

His grin turned into an unadulterated smile filling his face, his cheeks turning red from the compliment. “Thanks”

Y/N picked her drink number two again, “and you might be?” Haz asked.

“I’m Y/N, enchanté”, she raised her hand to meet his.

“Are you here with a movie too?” He seemed genuinely interested.

“Yeah, I’m the lead in a little indie movie called ‘Midnight Love’”, she pinched the air, a gesture to show how small the movie was.

“No way! When can I catch it?” his excitement was noted.

“It’s screening some time tomorrow morning I guess, I’m not sure”

“Can I give you my number so that you could text me with the time of the screening? I would love to see it”

“Yeah sure”, she handed him her phone.

---

Someone had clicked a photo of Haz and Y/N kissing at Washington Square Park, and had uploaded it on the internet. Nobody really knew who Y/N was, so they dubbed her as the ‘heart throb stealer’. Haz didn’t truly realize the gravity of the situation, the situation being a toy for the media, dating a seemingly normal girl from New York.

Haz had an early call time, so he left Y/N’s apartment before she even woke up, stopping at a deli near her flat in Sunnyside, Queens. When he came out with his breakfast, he noticed that the day started early for New Yorkers too, especially those who considered selling pictures of celebrities as honest work. They were hounding for his flesh.

Maybe I should go back to Y/N’s so that they would leave me alone. No. I can’t go there, they will get to know where she lives. I can’t let her live like me, locked in a golden cage.

Later that day, Haz came around Y/N’s place in the evening. He had planned on a quick ‘get in and go’. He even had a whole speech prepared. She opened up the door. Y/N was in her sleeping shorts and a bra, with a spoon in her mouth. She was clearly not expecting any visitors.

Man, why does she always look this perfect.

Before Y/N could say anything, Haz started his speech by clearing his throat.

“Y/N, I think we should break up and before you say anything, hear me out. I live in the public eye and the opinions of people have locked me in a bird cage. I am alone in here and that is fine with me, but you dating me will be your one way ticket inside this circus. You live a normal life, you are so grounded, and you get me back to earth whenever I’m on Saturn. I love you for that, but I can’t give you the peace you deserve to live a happy, healthy life. I don’t want you ever regretting us in the future so, it is for the best that we draw all our cards”, Haz said that all while still standing in her door frame.

“No”, she turned on her heel and walked towards her melting ice cream, leaving the door open for him.

“What do you mean ‘no’?” he finally entered the house and followed her.

“Are you insane? I’m not going to fucking leave you because of some stupid bird cage you live in. There’s nothing in this world that could stop me from loving you, ever”

---

It was late at night, Y/N and Haz were lying on their new bed, exhausted from a hard weekend of labour. Moving in was no joke. Only their bedside lights were on along with Y/N’s salt lamp which she had brought from her apartment. She was reading ‘The Picture of Dorian Gray’. Haz was making circles on Y/N’s stomach.

“You are distracting me”, Y/N spoke softly.

“Oh, am I now?” Haz started tickling her around her stomach.

“Harrison. Stop. Please”, she said between giggles.

“Never darling”, he travelled up to her neck.

She tried to catch his fingers with her chin, “what do you want from me?”

He stopped. Haz placed his hands on her shoulder to calm her down, locking his eye with her he said, “I want to wake up to you every morning and fall asleep to you every night”

“Well you can do that now”

“I want to do that every day for the rest of my life. Marry me, Y/N.”

---

Y/N was walking down 5th avenue, unaware of a photographer following her across the street. She rang her mother to tell her all the new developments in her life.

“Hello?” her mother answered the phone.

“Hi mum, how are you?”

“Oh hi Y/N! I’m doing fine, what about you?”

“I need to tell you something”

“What is it darling?” Y/N could hear her father in the background asking her mum whether it was Y/N she was talking to.

“Put the phone on speaker, I want to talk to you and papa both”

“Okay”, before heading underground for the subway, Y/N stopped at a small café to finish the conversation.

“Are you both here?” They hummed a yes.

Y/N took a deep breath, “I’m getting married to Harrison”

“What!?” both of them exclaimed.

“Honey you are too young to get married”, her mum said.

“If I’m old enough to do my own taxes, then I’m old enough to take this decision on my own”

“Kid, I just want to give you one piece of advice, I don’t think you should announce your engagement to the world just yet, you both haven’t been dating long enough and they already call you a gold digger”, her dad said.

“Where did you hear that?”

“On the internet”

“Dad, you shouldn’t be Google-ing your child. The internet only feeds you poison. And, lucky for you, we haven’t yet decided when to announce it”

---

Haz was stirring the sauce in the pan, next to the pot of boiling pasta. Y/N was sitting on the kitchen floor, with her back using the cabinets for support, reading a script.

“Babe, can you pass me the salt?”

Y/N carefully got up and opened the spice drawer. “There you go”

“Thanks” he took the glass jar of salt from her.

“We should watch ‘A Quiet Place’ tonight,” Haz suggested.

“No. we are going to watch ‘Letters to Juliette’.”

“Y/N, we have seen that movie a hundred times”

“Well make it hundred and one because we are watching it again, tonight”

“Why do you get to choose the movie?”

“Because I’m the pregnant wife here, Haz”, she got on her tippy toes to kiss his forehead.

---

“I want a divorce”, she whispered, loud enough to be heard.

“What?” he looked up at her with the most polarizing gaze.

He heard her. She knew that. She refused to repeat it, she thought if she did, he would win, in some weird way he would win the fiercest fight of their marriage.

“Is this what you do every night when you are not at home, with me? Stay out and drink your pettiness away?” Y/N said, pulling her hair down.

“Is this what you do every night when I’m not home, go to fancy shit with him?”

“Do not bring him into this”, she was stern.

“Come on, say it. Say his name. Say that you are in love with him”, he was poaching her.

“Fine. I love Tom, more than I ever loved you. But this is not about him. He has nothing to do with this sinking ship.” The claws were out.

“Oh honey, you punched the hole. You hurt me”, a mad man said. “You mean to say that you fucking him has nothing to do with us?”

“You should be more hurt that I had a good laugh with him”

She took the dagger out of his back and plunged it straight into his heart. He said nothing. Bleeding out on the floor, no whimpers were whispered.

“When you lost the kid, I was there for you. I took care of you” he said softly.

“Did you ever stop to ask me whether I wanted this kid or not?”

He looked at her confusingly.

“When I lost our child, I was honestly relieved”, she sat down on the floor opposite to him. “I was not ready for it but you were so joyous that I couldn’t say anything. I realized that I was so toxically in love with you, that I was ready to grow a piece of you in me, that I wanted to lose. Our love that seemed so healthy was just in shambles.”

Tears were streaming down both of their faces.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he moved forward and rubbed her knee.

“I just couldn’t” she said between sobs.

“And now you have to go. It’s okay. I get it.” He took her in his chest, letting Y/N cry her heart out.

“Hey, just like Passenger sang, ‘you’ll only know you love her if you let her go” he tried to be funny for her. And it worked. Y/N scuffed out air, a sad attempt to laugh.

“I will always care for you, Haz”, she looked him in the eyes, the stream of tears never stopping.

“I know”, a deep sigh heard. “I know, I know.” He said stroking her cheek.

@mysticapples17 @storybookholland @flqwsome @hollandstanevans

[andilovetowrite]

Chosen Couple (Part 3)

Peter Parker x Reader (The reader is an Avenger)

Summary- Peter and you have a movie night to celebrate the school year ending, but the night takes an unexpected turn. Suddenly, you wish you had never even gone to Peter’s house in the first place.

Warnings- Pretty bad angst, but then again, it’s my first time writing it, so I am open to comments and suggestions on how to improve it.

Posted: April 26, 2021

Word Count- 2.3k

Part 1 and Part 2

Feeling your face heat up, you read the card again and again. Could it be for you? Could Peter like you back? But you got your answer quite quickly.

“What are you doing?!” Peter asked, dashing to you, webbing the box shut.

“Uh, just checking out what was in the box…” you said, crossing your fingers behind your back. “Who’s it for Peter?”

He stared at you, and for a second, you thought he was going to say your name, tell you that he liked you back, tell you that he wanted to be more than friends. But it all went down the drain, and your heart sunk to your stomach when he blurted out. “MJ!”

“MJ?” you asked, feeling pieces of your heart tear into two. Peter looked shocked at what he said, eyebrows furrowed at the slight shake in your voice. But he couldn’t take it back now, could he?

“Y-yeah...uh, I.. um, like MJ, and I told Mr Stark the other day, and he helped me buy these things for yo-her”, he said, stuttering lightly. Maybe if you had paid attention, you would have seen the slight look of desperation on his face, but you were too busy trying to keep a neutral face.

“You told Tony before you told me?” you asked randomly, trying to mask the pain in your voice.

Again, Peter looked crestfallen, looking at the ground before nodding. “You know, because MJ is your best friend, and I thought that if you knew, you might tell her and she might reject me before I even could tell her how I feel” As Peter went on with the sentence, you could see his eyes start to shine a bit, and the small ball in your throat started to grow bigger, almost choking you.

You could feel a slight tingling in your stomach and hands, meaning your powers were beginning to become stronger. It usually happened when you were angry, but now, it made sense that it showed up whenever strong feelings were blowing up your mind. Numbly nodding, you picked up the beautiful copy of the book he had gotten her, now understanding.

You weren’t the only one who liked the book. MJ loved it as well. A couple of weeks ago, you two were chatting about it in the cafeteria, laughing and joking around, and then Peter had shown up, pulling you aside to ask you what was the title of the book that had you enamoured. Well, which had MJ enchanted. Putting it back down, you gulped, forcing a smile on your face. The air was uncomfortable for a couple of minutes, neither of you saying anything. Peter kept staring at the ground while you were blinking rapidly, trying to have a weak attempt at keeping the flow of tears threatening to burst out. Just as you were about to leave from the high tension, open the door and leave, the lights flickered back one by one, the TV’s sounds filling the room again.

“Um, do you want to finish movie night?” Peter’s voice asked from behind you, making you hesitate. You had two choices. You could either go home and cry under the comfort of your bed and then rant to Nat and Wanda about your conundrum, or you could suck it up and endure few more hours of torture, knowing that the last four years of your life spent on loving you best friend would be in vain…. See, you had never taken the easy way out in anything.

So you nodded at him, not saying a word as you slowly walked back to the sofa where you were just about to confess your feelings. Not even touching the blanket, on you and Peter earlier, you pulled your feet up, hugging your knees. Peter sat from across you, reaching out his hand as he might touch you but then pulling it back. You could hardly pay attention to the movie, which was probably the sixth one.

Instead, you focused on the clock, watching the minutes tick by slowly. Second by second. You knew him long enough to see that he wasn’t paying attention either. Any time you spared him a glance, he seemed far away, glassy-eyed and lost in thought. Just as the movie was ending, Peter asked out loud, his voice sharp and brittle.

“Why are you so weird?”

Looking at him properly for the first time since you opened the box, you were speechless. Why were you weird? Maybe because you thought you and Peter were close enough to share little things like crushes. Maybe you were mad that he could trust you with his life on the battlefield but not with his high school crush. Maybe you were furious that he went to Tony for help. Maybe because you thought that he and you were closer than him and Tony. Maybe because you were angry that he couldn’t just suck it up and tell you that he liked MJ. Perhaps because you liked him like he liked MJ, and just maybe because you thought that he wanted you like he liked MJ...

But you couldn’t tell that to him, so you just said back in an emotionless voice. “I’m not weird at all. Why do you think I’m weird?”

Not expecting you to beat around the bush, he answered back, hints of a frown showing up on his face. “Well, you haven’t said anything since I told you I liked MJ. Do you have some type of problem with her?” As soon as he finished, his face contorted into a frown as if he was in pain.

Shocked that he would even ask that, you shot back. “I don’t have any problem with MJ. Hell, she is my best friend. I just want to know why you didn’t tell me about this simple secret?”

He spat, answering me back as he stood up, towering over me. “What’s your problem?! Just cause I don’t tell you about my crush? Oh, and by the way, it’s not a simple little secret. I’ve loved her for years!” His jaw clenched lightly, slowly looking you in the eyes.

Shaking your head, you stood up, now standing the same height as him. “I’m don’t have a problem with anything. I just thought that you- uh…-”, gulping softly, you gaped at him, “Peter, why are you acting like this?”

Breathing heavily now, he glared at you, hate in his eyes, mixed with something you couldn’t make out. “Why are you acting like my mother Y/N?!”

“What the hell Parker? I could’ve helped you out. We’ve always done these things together”, you said, pushing out the words. Your stomach twisted as you said you would help him, curling with envy and jealously towards MJ.

“Oh yeah? Like how you asked for my help with Brad?”

Exasperated, you threw your hands up, light lavender light starting to show from your fingertips. “What is it with you and Brad? He’s a great guy!”

“Uh-huh, and that’s why you thanked me for launching you out of that problematic date of yours, right?”

Starting to feel tired and feeling the weight of your fight beginning to fall on you, you just gazed at him, trying to figure out why his face was red. “Is it because of the movie? Or the exams?”

“Y/N, I don’t know why you can’t just-”, going to sighed, hands running through his curls. The only time you had seen him this broken was when Tony had taken away his suit and when you came with him to find the Vulture. You took a deep breath, moving back from the couch. This was the first time you and Peter had ever fought on something so minute. So irrelevant. Something so damn hard to swallow for you. Peter clicked his tongue and then called out, fire laced in his words.

“Well, maybe it is because of the movie. You keep saying that you like Harry and have spent your whole life loving him as a... character, but now, judging from your glances at the screen, Ron’s the one you want, don’t you?”His eyes narrowed into tiny slits as he spoke.

“Oh yeah, and why’s that?” you asked accusingly, folding your arms over your chest.

“I don’t know? Maybe because you just have bad taste in men!” he said, sneering at you. Not once, ever in the six years you had known Peter did you see him sneer at you. But this only fueled the anger deep within your chest.

“Well, in that case, you probably don’t even like Hermione so much. You would like someone like Ginny Weasley! You tried to stop, but you couldn’t as you went on, airing all of your problems out.

“Oh wait, and your right, I do like Ron better. It’s because Ron is tall and cute, part of sports teams and oh yeah, he gets all the girls. He has experience with a girl, and I think that’s what makes him more interesting than Harry!” you said, knowing that the topic had gone off the movie long ago.

Peter almost looked hurt for a couple of seconds as you spoke of ‘Ron’, but then he clenched his jaw, face hardening. “Well, your right then! Ginny is the perfect girl. I mean, her life is smooth and secure, with family and friends surrounding her. Not like Hermione, whose parents don’t even care about her, let alone anyone else.”

As soon as Peter finished, you could feel the anger draining out of you, replaced by a blinding pain in your chest. You could see Peter’s eyes widen in realisation, softening apologetically. Letting out a long breath, you stood up, not wanting to let him see the tears welling in your eyes. “Why would you say that?”, You asked as you let out all the pent up energy, stress and emotions you had been holding in for the evening in one go. Picking up your phone, you began walking to the door, ignoring Peter’s calls behind you.

“Y/N, I’m sorry, I’m so so sorry!” Peter said, calling out, his voice cracking towards the end. Gritting your teeth, you kept going. You were taught from a young age never to cry in public. You had kind of let that go with Peter, though. He was your best friend. You two used to talk about many things, about school, movies, family, friends. You had comforted Peter every year when his parent’s death anniversary came around. He was a shoulder to cry on when being an Avenger became just too much for you. But you had never cried because of Peter. Never but none because of your fight.

Oh, and coincidentally, that little piece of advice was given by your parents. Your parents who...left you. Almost forgot about you. Feeling a fresh new set of emotions burst through your mouth. Whirling backwards, you stared at Peter. He was standing in the middle of the hallway, almost hunched over under your vision. He glanced up at you, eyes bloodshot. “I’m sorry”, he whispered helplessly.

Dark purple light started emerging from you, making your hair stand up. You could feel your heartbeat get faster as you pushed out every last bit of hatred you could muster. Peter’s face was now reflecting the violet light, lip quivering ever so slightly.

“Why would you use my parents? You know how I-” Feeling a sob jump out of your throat, you collapsed on the floor, the purple ring around you flashing out before the apartment became as dark as before. Just as you fell, you felt Peter run over to you; arm’s circling you. You could feel his hair tickling your neck as he bought you closer.

“I didn’t mean it. Please…”, Peter said, holding you tight as his embrace. Wondering if you should push him back, you couldn’t be bothered. Instead, you hugged him back, letting yourself melt into him. You don’t know how long you stayed in that position, huddled near the door, both you and Peter trying to figure things out.

But at some point, when you were sure that you could stand up without becoming a bumbling mess of tears, you pulled away. Peter looked at you, eyes rimmed with red, cheeks puffy with his curls a mess. Sniffing, you stand up, not saying anything as you turn away, opening the door softly and looking back at him, your gaze diverting to the black box.

“Go give it to her Pete. I’m sure she would love it.”

And with that, you walked out the door, into the dark night, rain pelting on your head, but truthfully, you couldn’t care less at this point.

Damn, and I thought this would be a fun, fluffy piece, but it turned into something a bit more… Well, anyway, let’s see what happens next. Will Peter give MJ the box? Will Y/N ever even talk to Peter and MJ? Check it out in a few days when I put out the next part. Also, if you made it this far, maybe follow me to see some more short series and stories about our favourite spider boy :)

Part 1 and Part 2

Part 4

[girlmeetsliv3]

Lilies of the Valley I

A/B/O!BTS x Reader

Flowers can have different meanings depending on the flower’s shape, color, and method in which they are presented. Lilies are my favorite for such a simple flower can have so many distinct meanings.

Chapter One: Hatred & Pride

“Lilies are considered a beautiful, popular flower but the orange variations actually symbolize hatred, pride, and disdain.”

Release Date: 05/18/20 @ 7 pm

next

 YN stumbled haphazardly into her apartment, as she tried to kick off heels and steer her way into her apartment's small bathroom. In her hand lay a crumpled up business card that scorched her skin, yet she couldn't let go of it. As she reached the bathroom, she flickered the yellow lighting on and stared at herself in the dirty mirror. Mascara and eyeliner were smudged making her resemble a panda, a frown etched between her brows, and colored lips turned downward. It was not her wretched appearance that had her sorrowful, but rather the bite that was visible right where her neck met her shoulder. It looked fresh, harsh red marks that displayed to the world that she was taken. "What a fucking lie."

She took off her makeup and jumped into the shower scrubbing off every trace she could of the alpha. Not wanting his scent permeating on her body any longer, then it would truly prove people's perception of her to be true. A small ding as she was exiting the shower alerted her towards her phone.

           Mark Lee: Sorry about how I acted. I just don't understand, but I don't think we should see each other anymore.

"Great," YN grumbled. There went another one that she'd managed to drive away. It would be a lot easier if she could simply date someone like her - not that it would ever be allowed. Still, there would be less judgment and she wouldn't have to feel like a let down to society or her family every time a holiday passed and she failed to present with a mate. "Fuck society." Though truly it was more like fuck Jeon Jungkook. None of this would've happened if it weren't for the alpha and his hormones. Truly none of this would've happened if his mates kept a tighter grip on the newly presenting alpha, but she couldn't blame the others for his mistake.

           On second thought, fuck them all. Why the fuck are sub-genders a thing anyway? This wasn't the first time said thoughts had filled her head. Presenting as an Omega in a family full of beta's had been difficult, not to mention the events that followed afterward. YN dragged her feet into her bed, thankful for once that she lived in such a small apartment that things were never so far apart. Though her current apartment was about the size of the kitchen in her parent's home, she couldn't complain. Few people rented unmated omegas. She was lucky that her landladies were two female betas with small children. YN doesn’t have anything against alphas but she’s aware enough to know how they perceive her: a means to an end rather than a human being. Or half of one at the very least.

           Her cell phone screen lit up again, but YN was far too tired to check it. Until it stayed on as a plethora of messages appeared. Rolling her eyes, YN grabbed her phone and unlocked it planning to send to hell whoever sent so many messages this late at night.

           Unknown: Please consider it.

           Unknown: I know you blame me for a lot of things and it is my fault, but I’d like to fix things.

           Unknown: or help at the very least.

           Unknown: Please just answer me.

           Unknown: I’m very sorry. You know I am. It was a mistake, I was presenting and couldn’t control myself. Please YN.

           Unknown: You’re my mate.

YN slammed her phone down on her bed with tears in her eyes. She regretted ever going on the date tonight, regretted ever meeting Jungkook, regretted presenting as an Omega. YN regretted being alive. She knew others felt the same way, she'd seen the look in her father's eyes when he had gone to the police station. None of this would've ever happened if she were a beta. YN would be able to get a good education, a good job, a decent place to live. She wouldn't be treated like a third-class citizen because of her sub-gender - she would just be YN. The way she'd been in school before all this happened. The way she spent seventeen years of her life living. Sobs racked throughout her body and she bit into her arm to keep the sound from reaching her neighbors. She didn't want to get into any more trouble tonight.  

           Exhaustion eventually won over and YN slipped into a restless sleep, plagued by the events of her past and the ones that occurred a few hours earlier.

          “So there was nothing you did in high school? No clubs or anything like that?”

YN shook her head, shrugging slightly. "I helped some teachers, dabbled in a couple of things but wasn't like the head cheerleader or class president." Tentatively she reached for her drink, making sure Mark didn't notice her smelling it for anything. It wasn't that he wasn't nice, but one could never be too careful. Mark laughed, "Alright you got me there, but I'll let you know the only reason I became class president is that I promised I'd get us a pool."

           “How did that work out?”

           “Terrible. The school was convinced our stupid asses would drown or something. Can’t say it wasn’t true.”

           YN giggled, taking another bite of her food. Mark was cute and he seemed aware of things, enough to not try too hard. He hadn’t asked to pick her up or asked about exes, he’d agreed to meet at the restaurant and even arrived early. Then again it might also be because they have a friend in between and it was Rosé who’d set them up together. “So YN what school did you go to?” Mark leaned forward resting his face in his hands. The warm lighting in the restaurant cast a nice glow on his features, it made him look more attractive. Or perhaps the alcohol had finally set in.

           “I went to Yeong-gwang Academy.” As soon as YN uttered the name Mark’s eyes widened exponentially. “No way, I’ve heard about that school. Isn’t it like a rich kid central or something? Wait didn’t you go to school with the Kims?!” It was an involuntary reaction the way she shivered whenever she heard that name, but her date must not have noticed. He stood waiting for her confirmation and all it took was a curt nod, for the man to begin rambling about all the rumors he’d heard over the years. It was difficult to keep up with them all, but she did manage to correct a few.

           “Haven’t you guys been ranked number one school in Korea for like thirty years or something?”

           “I think it’s only twenty.”

           “I heard all your sports teams are national champions.”

           “We only really had like five or so.”

           “Don’t you have the largest private collection of flowers in Asia?!”

           “Um, it’s Lilies and I think that’s an exaggeration.”

On and on it went, YN was now beginning to regret opening her mouth. She'd heard of Academy fans before, but it was mainly people who wanted to go there and couldn't or alumni. The way Mark spoke about it made her seem like she was an olympiad or a part of history. The date was drawing to an end, YN couldn't help but feel disappointed but it could have gone worse. Mark could have seen her mark and it would've caused conflict, hearing the boy ramble about her school was the lesser of the two evils.  

           It was when YN lifted her drink to her lips that she sensed it. A hint of musk and the smell of fresh linen, she couldn’t explain how she knew it was him. It was almost instinctual the fear that spread throughout her. As discreetly as she could, YN cast a glance around the room trying to find him almost exhaling with relief when she didn’t. It’s probably a mistake.

           “Hey isn’t that Kim Jungkook right there?”

It was said a little too loudly, just enough that YN knew he'd heard it. It didn't take long for her to feel eyes peering at her, goosebumps rose through her arms. Her bite began to throb and YN could feel her heart skip a beat. Mark's eyes focused on him and eventually crawled up, letting her know the alpha was approaching. Now the scent hit her entirely, shaking her to her core. YN gripped the table to steady herself but found that near impossible when the alpha kept sending his pheromones at her.  

"Does there seem to be a problem here?" His voice had deepened over the years, no longer the voice of a teenager but that of a man.

"Oh sorry, I didn't mean to call your name so loudly. Um, I'm Mark Lee. A pleasure to meet you." Mark turned his attention towards YN expecting her to acknowledge Jungkook or greet him as a classmate. YN couldn't. She couldn't look at him. It didn't help that there was a tense atmosphere between the two, the tension was palpable and it seemed Mark had enough.

           “Aren’t you going to greet him, YN?”

           Greet the man responsible for everything wrong in my life, sure. Yn’s eyes trailed upwards from the table to Jungkook’s face until her warm eyes met his golden ones. As YN parted her lips to speak, she felt it: the heat spreading throughout her body. An uncontrollable feeling that raked throughout her body. The fucker was trying to trigger a pseudo-heat. Instantly YN’s grip tightened on the table, her fingertips becoming white as she fought with nature to keep control over herself.

           “Do you two know each other?” It seems Mark was catching on and truly she couldn’t blame him if he misunderstood. She would too if the roles were reversed. Suddenly Jungkook turned to face Mark, holding his hand out to greet him.

           “I’m Kim Jungkook, her mate.”

"What?! No, he isn't. Don't listen to him, Mark." Her outcry had caused quite a few patrons to turn her way, now all paying close attention to what was happening.

"Uh -" Jungkook quickly interceded whatever Mark was going to say. "Did you not notice her mark? Or do you make a habit of seeking mated people?" At this a few people gasped, Mark looked between the two of them confused. YN snapped, "It's a partial bond. It was never completed so it doesn't mean anything." Her words only confused Mark even more. Whispers from surrounding tables began to reach her ears and it only fueled YN's rage more. This was all a big misunderstanding, but Jungkook was thriving off it. Mark and YN's eyes met as she silently pleaded with him to listen to her.

"Hey beta," Jungkook snapped his fingers together, "look at me." YN should've known she'd lost then and there. As a beta, it was impossible to resist the order of alpha, not to mention one that exuded the stench that Jungkook did.

           “You know who I am right?” Mark nodded, eyes wide as if aiming to please. “Then you know don’t you? You know…” When Mark looked back at her, there was sympathy in his eyes. “I’m sorry YN.” was all the beta said before standing up and walking away. YN had so many things to say, so many more explanations, but they all died in her tongue.

           Jungkook tsked, “What an asshole. Could’ve at least paid for the meal.” That was the final strand for YN, she gathered her stuff and threw all the money she had down on the table. Walking fast out of the restaurant trying to avoid the judgemental stares directed towards her, she swore some people hissed at her under their breaths. Once outside YN leaned against the side entrance of the restaurant trying to steady her breath and stop the incoming tears.

"YN. Hey!" Jungkook raced out the front, staring around panicked until his gaze landed on her. YN tried to walk away, but his long legs gave him an advantage and he reached her in a few steps. "Please YN. I'm sorry, I just- I couldn't control myself." YN rolled her eyes, trying to push the alpha aside.  

           “No please YN look.” His hands gripped her forearms and tugged her close to him. “I’ve been trying to find you, we’ve been trying to find you. But you disappeared off the map.”

           “That’s because of you. I left because of you.” YN tried to get him to release her arms, but his hold was too tight. “Wasn’t it enough for you? Isn’t it enough for you? You ruined my life and my reputation Jungkook. The least you could do is leave me alone.” She was begging at this point, trying to make him see reason.

           “I can’t leave you alone, YN. You’re my mate.”

           “You already have mates Jungkook. Fucking six of them! How could you want more?!”

           “It isn’t like that and you know it. You’re all our mates. You're the pack omega, you just don’t see it yet.”

           This wasn’t the first time Jungkook had tried to excuse his behavior by using the pack bond. Yes, it was true all seven of them shared it but that didn’t mean she did too. “Omega’s don’t have the pack bond, Jungkook. Stop trying to lie.” YN couldn’t see what he gained from this.

           “I’m not lying. It’s rare but it happens, please if you just speak to Namjoon you’ll see-”

           “Leave me alone Jungkook.” YN mustered all her strength and managed to finally push him off. The alpha looked shocked at her display of aggression, YN strongly desired to hit him but knew it wouldn’t end well if she triggered his instincts. “I’d rather die alone than be mated to you.” YN could see the spear driven through the boy’s heart because she felt something similar go through hers. YN let out a shaky breath, she leaned over resting on her knees for fear of falling over.

"I get it. I'm sorry, I ruined your date. I embarrassed you in front of all those people and that wasn't right. I'm sorry YN, I truly am. For everything, I've ever done to you. But it doesn't change the truth. You know this isn't something I can lie about: you are my mate. Our mate."

YN groaned and went to walk away, knowing that there wouldn't be an end to Jungkook's madness. As she walked past the shaken alpha, he grasped her hand placing something in it. "If you ever need anything, don't hesitate, please." YN didn't even spare him a look as she walked away. It wasn't until she could no longer smell him that YN broke down, her body shaking as she tried to hold it all in. She was still in a public place and a vulnerable omega might draw unwanted attention. YN took a deep breath and steadied herself. Heading straight to her apartment and refusing to look back.

           A loud abrupt ringing awoke YN from her sleep, she jumped so high she practically touched the ceiling. Grabbing the phone, she saw Rosé’s contact picture pop-up on the screen. It was rare for her to call, especially since it was nearly six a.m.

           “Hey.”

           “YN? Oh my god.” Rosé’s tone was panicked and YN could hear the way she panted. “Someone broke into my apartment while I was sleeping.”

           “What?! Are you alright?!” YN jumped out of bed and raced to put on pants and hoodie, before grabbing her keys and wallet. “Where are you?”

           “I’m at the police station. I couldn’t see very clearly, but they’re looking at security cam footage from around the area to figure out who it is.”

           “I’m on my way. Did you call Lucas?” Lucas was Rosé’s foster sibling, his husband worked in the police and was certain to make the whole process smoother.

           Rosé hesitated, “He isn't answering. Please come, I’m here alone and I-”

           “It’s alright I’ll be there soon I promise.” YN had managed to wave down a cab and told him to drive as quickly as he could.

The sight of her best friend in tears triggered something innate in YN. She pulled Rosé into a hug and refused to let her go, terrified at the thought of what could have happened to her friend. "It's alright, I'm here." Rosé dug her head into YN's neck using her scent to calm her nerves and trying to muffle her cries. Already she could feel the sympathetic stares of some of the officers. Out of the corner of her eye, YN saw someone approaching his bloodshot eyes, and the tall way in which he stood made it seem like he owned the place.

"I told you to call your mate, not your girlfriend." He remarked voice dull yet mocking. Rosé stepped away from YN turning towards him, "I don't have a mate and my brother isn't answering." Her tone was meek and eyes were downcast, YN knew she wasn't a confrontational person and this event likely further caused her to become more introverted. The cop rolled his eyes, "Where is your mate then?" He turned his attention towards YN, now she could see the name inscribed on his uniform: Officer Hwang. "I don't have one." Her tone was too blunt, YN knew she could see the way his eyebrows raised at it.

           “Don’t lie to me, I can see your mark.”

           “I don’t have a mate.”

Annoyance was now visible in Hwang's tone before his eyes widened. "Ah, now I get it." The officer turned back towards one of his colleagues and called out, "Bo, it seems we have a cat house on our hands." Rosé's eyes widened and YN spoke quickly, words tumbling out of her mouth. "No. You're misunderstanding." Bo had already stood up from his desk and was making his way towards them.  

           “Ladies if you could please follow me.”

The two of them were talking over each other trying to explain the situation, but the officers had made up their minds about what was occurring. YN cast a glance around the room trying to find anyone who could help them, but everyone kept their eyes downward. They'd been titled as prostitutes and it would be difficult to change people's minds. Officer Bo guided them, pushed would've been a better term, towards the basement where the holding cells were.

           “Please sir, you’ve misunderstood.”

           Officer Hwang shrugged, a cruel smirk on his face. “Call your alpha then and everything will be solved.” YN resigned herself as they were dragged downstairs and locked up.

Rosé and YN were separated in different cells while a guard stood watching. Tears streamed endlessly down her best friend's face, whilst YN told herself that hers were tears of frustration rather than humiliation at everything that had occurred tonight. Eventually, as they hit the two-hour mark the guard spoke up, "I'd call your mates if I were you. The boarding house bus swing's by at nine." Both omegas stilled in fear at his words. YN turned towards Rosé, "Ro can't you try your brother?" She was pleading with her friend, but Rosé shook her head. "He won't come." There was something she wasn't telling her, but YN figured now was not the moment to press it.

           “Don’t you know someone who can help YN? What about Mark?”

Mark would be no help, considering everything that went down at the date it would be a further embarrassment to ask him to come to pick her up at the station. If he even answered that is. Unless? No, there was no way. Her pride wouldn’t be able to take it.

            "Thirty minutes, girls."

It seemed as if fate was pushing her into a corner. YN had heard about what kind of things occurred to Omega's who were taken to the boarding house, it was not a nice place. It certainly didn't provide the comfort or protection that was promised to unmated troubled omegas. Hesitantly YN cleared her throat, "Can I please make a call?"

~ Please lmk if you would like to be added to the tag list. Thank you

[writtenonreceipts]

Thank-you for 100+ followers!  Here’s a little thank-you fic, I so appreciate the the support. ~5.7k words.  Rowaelin.

Sometime Around Midnight

Three years ago when he would have a day off, Rowan found himself hiking in the mountains.  Two years ago when he would have a day off, Rowan found himself pacing the hospital halls.

Currently when he would have a day off, Rowan found himself at work.

He no longer knew what a day off actually looked like and that was fine with him.  

“What are you doing here?” 

Rowan looked up to see his longtime friend and co-bar owner, Fenrys come in from the storage room.  He had a clipboard in hand, his gold-blond hair hanging in long, loose curls around his shoulders.

“Working,” Rowan replied.  He wiped down the metal table before him where he’d accidentally upended an entire tub of maraschino cherry juice.  Thankfully there’d been no actual cherries left so there wasn’t much lost there, but the mess was still annoying.

“Go home, Rowan,” Fenrys said.  He jabbed the clipboard his direction as he came behind the bar and examined the on the floor stock. “You haven’t taken a day off in two years.”

“Not true, last week you and Lorcan forced me to go camping,” Rowan said.

“Forced being the choice word of that sentence,” Fenrys replied.  He leaned back against the bar and examined his friend. “C’mon man, she wouldn’t want to see you like this.”

Rowan slapped the cleaning rag down on the counter and scowled. “I guess we’ll never know, will we?”

It didn’t take much else for Fenrys to surrender.  But Rowan could see the mixed look of anger and disappointment in his friend's eyes.  It was easy enough to ignore when one of the regulars came in and ordered his drink.

Rowan poured the man his whiskey, neat, and went back to cleaning up behind the bar.  It was only eleven in the morning and it was already proving to be a miserable day.  Especially given the fact that Rowan was haunted by that damn piano with it’s strange cadence.  And even though Rowan knew next to nothing about classical music there was something about the way that the chords were struck that told Rowan someone one was sacrificing their heart and soul to whatever god might be listening.

And Rowan found himself wishing that he could be the one to say that he was there.

Not long after that, Lorcan came in for the start of his shift.  It was a strange time, but he was taking classes at the local community college and the later afternoon and evening shifts worked best for his schedule.  Not that Rowan minded working around his friend’s schedule.  It was what he did.  What they all did for each other.

With his ever-present scowl Lorcan shuffled behind the bar and pulled his shoulder length hair back into a bun.  He greeted Rowan with a grunt and started on making sure there were plenty of clean glasses to be prepared for the rest of the night.

“You could go home man,” Lorcan said quietly as he leaned against the bar. “You’ve been working non-stop all week.”

All week.  All year.  

It all rolled together in one fat miserable existence.

Rowan merely shrugged. “Nah.  I can’t leave you here alone.”

“It’s a Tuesday,” Lorcan said.  He rolled his eyes. “What’d’ya thinks going to happen?”

Nothing.  Absolutely nothing.  But if Rowan went home all he would do is stare at his phone, the tv, the wall.  He didn’t sleep much anymore despite how exhausted he was.  Besides, Rowan didn’t want to owe Lorcan anything.

“Shut up and go wipe down tables,” Rowan growled.  He leaned down and grabbed a bowl of limes from a mini-fridge beneath the bar.  He had a feeling they would need them at some point that night.

And hours later, he was right.

It was near closing time, one in the morning, and a woman with golden hair twisted into an intricate braid atop her head stumbled in.  She slid into a barstool with easy grace and immediately ordered an entire bottle of tequila.

Rowan stared at her.

She was beautiful, there was no mistaking it.  With her large, golden blue eyes, full lips, and sexy black dress that dipped into a sinfully low v--Rowan had a hard time looking away from her.

“You do know we’re closing soon, right?” he asked even as he lined up a few shot glasses.

“Shut up and pour,” she said.  

Rowan was never usually one to take orders from someone else, particularly when that someone was out looking to get blackout drunk.  And yet, when she stared at him with those sharp eyes and hard tilt of the chin, he decided that listening to her might not be a bad thing.  So, he poured.

The woman slammed back two shots before snatching the bowl of limes he’d cut earlier.  Without even hesitating, she began sucking the slices dry.

“Feel better?” he asked.  

She flipped him off and grabbed a third shot.  She didn’t seem at all affected by the tequila which in and of itself was a phenomenal feat.  But Rowan recognized the drinking and the behavior for what it was.  She was trying to forget.

One o’clock in the morning in the middle of the week and she was ready to lose herself to anything and everything.

“Riddle me this barkeep,” the woman said as she twirled one of the shot glasses between her fingers. “Why do men make promises they have no intention of keeping?”

Rowan watched her, somewhat concerned.

She truly seemed far to put together for a bar like this, a neighborhood like this.  Far too attractive to be alone, even pontificating on the idea of being alone.  And yet, as she downed another shot and sucked on another lime--Rowan had a feeling that this was who the woman really was.  Confident and self-assured.

He poured her a glass of water just to be safe.

She scowled and glared at the offending drink.

“I do know how to handle my liquor,” she said.  She gave him a pointed glare.

“Whatever you say, Princess,” he replied with a growl. “I’d just rather not spend half my night cleaning up after you.”

“You are a cranky old buzzard,” she said.  Her full lips jutted out in a scowl and Rowan had a hard time tearing his gaze from them.

He needed to focus on something else. “Buzzard?”

“Your shirt,” she said pointing with a lime rind. “Those look like hawks.  And hawks are assholes that pick and mother-hen everything.  Buzzard.”

Looking down at his shirt, Rowan frowned. Indeed, the button up had birds in the design, but he didn’t think it was that noticeable.  Or at least not enough to comment on.  Even for a woman who most certainly was well on her way to getting wasted.

She grinned at his silence and plucked a cherry from behind the counter.  Watching him, the woman ate the cherry and kept the stem between her fingers.

“But I really would like to know,” she said, “why make promises that you don’t keep?”

Rowan shook his head.  Maybe he should just let her drink herself to oblivion.  It would make it easier to call a cab for her.  And he had a rule not to get involved in these deep philosophical-like talks.  They never served anyone well.

“It’s probably just me,” she said, so quietly Rowan almost missed it.

But her phone buzzed from where she set it beside her.  She glanced at it, laughed loudly, and shoved it away.

“Maybe I should try celibacy for a while,” the woman said.  She stole another cherry and sighed. “Because this dating thing is not working very well.”

Rowan waited until she’d gulped down half the glass of water before pouring her another shot.

“You don’t talk much do you?” the woman asked.

Rowan noticed then the distinct tint of her eyes.  Gold rimmed with blue.  Or blue rimmed with gold.  One of the two.  Whichever it was it was distinct enough that Rowan had a much harder time looking away this time.

“I try not to mingle with the crazy.”

She gave an affronted huff.

“Or the emotionally distressed.”

A snort.  She dropped the cherry stems into one of the shot glasses. “Cranky old buzzard.”

“I’m not old,” Rowan said.  

She laughed at him, a triumphant sort of gleam in her eyes.  

Rowan wished he’d carded her just to prove a point.  But he recognized her now, at least partially.  She’d come in once before months ago with someone that could have been her brother.  Lorcan had carded back then.  He carded everyone mostly so he could have a greater opportunity of throwing someone out.  

The last time she was here this doom and gloom cloud raging over her had been absent.  All she’d been was carefree.

She finished her water and nodded to the tequila.

“I think you’ve had enough,” he said, “besides, I should be finishing closing.”

Rolling her eyes, the woman picked up her phone--a call flashed on the screen and whoever it was had her grinning broadly.

“Dorian!” she cried into the phone with a happy lilt to her voice.

She was definitely drunk.

Rowan grabbed the dirty glasses he’d poured her and collected the lime rinds and cherry stems.

“Where the hell are you?” A voice demanded on the other line.  Loud and on speaker.  The woman made no effort to take it off speaker.

“Ugh, you’re too loud, asshole,” the woman groused.  She tried to snag the unattended tequila, but Rowan managed to slide it out of her grasp.  It earned him a pout, but he didn’t really care.

“Where are you?” the man on the other end repeated.

“The Cadre.”

A loud, very crude curse sounded. “Are you trying to get alcohol poisoning?  This is how you get alcohol poisoning.”

“Buzz kill,” the woman sang into the phone. She grinned at Rowan. “You should come get me. It’s way past the bartender’s bedtime.”

She hung up the phone without waiting for a response.

“You know,” she said, “this place is so close to my apartment.  But I never come here.”

“You must live in a crappy part of town,” Rowan said before he could stop himself.  But she didn’t seem to be at all offended.  In fact she laughed.

“If only you knew,” she laughed. Her demeanor turned serious and for a moment, Rowan thought that she might say something more profound, something that would help him better understand her.  Because there was something entirely different about her.  And not just the confident way she held herself or overtook a room.  But something.

It wasn’t long after that when the door to the bar opened and a young man entered.  He was tall with thick black hair and a lean build.  He held himself well though and the well-tailored suit only helped exude more confidence.  Or perhaps it was the woman at his side.  She was shorter, lean, and had long bone white hair that curled in loose waves.  Her golden eyes examined the bar with amusement.  

“Dorian!” 

Slipping out of her stool, Rowan’s once companion, ran over to the man with surprising agility for how much she’d been drinking the past hour.

“Are you kidding me?” Dorian groaned as he caught the woman. “I thought you were with Sam.”

“Nope,” the woman popped the “p” with a loud smack of her lips and giggled. “But I found another broody man to keep me company instead.”

The woman cast a bright, beaming look over her shoulder to Rowan.  And in all honesty, he didn’t know what to make of it.

The man, Dorian cursed, and passed the tipsy blonde over to his companion who rolled her eyes and said something softly to the other woman.

Dorian approached the bar and pulled out his wallet and handed Rowan several bills.  More than enough to cover the drinks and a tip.

Rowan glanced at Dorian more than ready to tell him off for whatever statement he wanted to make in front of the women.

“Thanks for letting her in,” Dorian said, his voice soft.  There was such sincerity in his words, that Rowan accepted the cash without realizing what he was doing. “And making sure she was safe.”

Rowan shrugged. “I was about to call a cab.”

“Still,” Dorian said.  He knocked his fist on the bar and backed away. “You’re a hopeless drunk Galathynis.”

“It fits, seeing as how I have a hopeless fiancé,” the blonde replied.  She paused. “Ex-fiancé.”

The doors of the bar shut behind them as they left and Rowan followed after making sure to lock up.  It had been a long night and he had no idea what to make of the woman who’d just left.

#

Once on a dare, Rowan shaved his head.  He’d been drunk when he actually did the deed because being sober for the event was not an option. His fiancée had asked him to shave his head for her.  No.  That was a lie.  She would have never asked him to do that for her.  But he knew he should have.  She would have loved it.

Two years after, Rowan still kept his head shaved. 

If pestered about it, Rowan would just say it was easier and more manageable this way. Anything to get out of mentioning Lyria. Anything to get out of thinking back on her.

When he saw the woman from the bar next it was at the bar.  At a decent hour this time.  

Well as decent as the hours could be for a grunge bar such as The Cadre.

It was nearing ten o’clock on a weekend and all the usuals were there.  Rowan expected it to be another regular night without anything exciting happening.

But then he spotted the woman with golden hair and distracting eyes come in.  She was alone, again.  But this time she wasn’t in a black dress with her hair perfectly braided in that crown along the top of her head.  Tonight, she wore black leggings and a long flannel shirt over a white t-shirt.  Her blonde hair hung in loose curls down her back.

And again—damn him—Rowan about found himself speechless.  It wasn’t something he was used to.  Not since Lyria.

“Well, if it isn’t the Buzzard,” crooned the blonde as she sidled up to the bar. 

“Are you going to drink me out of tequila again?” Rowan asked warily.

She flashed him a grin.  Yes.  She probably would.

Because Rowan had learned a long time ago how to read that grin.  Ferocious and cold.  The kind of grin that would take no prisoners and show no mercy.

As she ordered her drink, Rowan quickly became distracted by the late-night rush.  A college game had just finished up and post-drinking was required.  Not to mention it was the middle of the summer and everyone seemed desperate for escape.  Even to a place like the Cadre.

And still, all through the night, Rowan found his gaze wandering to the end of the bar where the woman had set up.  She spent her time nursing a drink, taking shots, and declining any offers to join anyone. 

“You’ve been staring at that woman all night,” Lorcan said, coming up beside Rowan.  The broad-shouldered man edged a palette of clean glasses onto the bar and began putting them away.

Rowan grunted and looked distinctly away from her.  He threw a towel on his shoulder and sidled past his friend to grab a new bottle of vodka from a shelf behind him.  Lorcan rolled his eyes but said nothing.  Nothing until the woman changed seats and came to an open space near the center of the bar.

She leaned against the bar and examined both men.

“Well you both seem to be enjoying your night,” she said dryly. 

“It’s a Saturday with a bar of grumpy old bastards,” Rowan replied.  Lorcan snorted back a laugh.  Whether in agreement or making a statement, Rowan wasn’t sure.  Either way, he’d make sure to punch his friend later.

“Then you’re right among friends,” the woman said.  She looked so serious as she said it that Rowan almost missed the sarcasm lacing her words.

It was Lorcan who laughed first and helped himself to a tequila shot before pouring one for the blonde.  She offered him a silent toast and downed the drink.

“I’ll get you another drink in a minute,” Rowan told her.  He still had to finish a few orders for another table of some ass-hat executives at a table near the back corner.

“Okay,” she said.

And then she was swiping cherries.  Again.  Perhaps it was Rowan’s fault for leaving the container up on the bar.  Rowan narrowed his eyes at her.  She smiled; her lips stained with that saccharine syrup.

She said nothing else, but leaned against the bar with nonchalance and yet her eyes seemed glazed over as she watched people slowly filter out.  It wasn’t that late, barely past midnight and a Thursday.  Yet as the hype simmered out from the baseball game, the bar still remained busy.  

As she nursed her second drink--despite the gleam in her eyes at the start of the night, she’d paced herself very well—the woman finally accepted a glass of water.

“I do not need any food,” she told him after he’d asked again.  Her lip curled a moment. “Unless you have cake.”

“Cake?”

“Cake.”

Rowan stared at her.  She puckered her lips.

“No,” he said slowly, “no cake.”

“Then no food.”

“You’re just going to sit here and drink all night?” Rowan asked.

“I’m in good company.”  She turned those brilliant eyes on him and for a moment Rowan felt as though he were staring through the universe as it collapsed in on him and he were left bereft in that unknown sea.

And then she blinked.

“Besides, it’s not like there’s anyone waiting up for me.” She threw a cherry stem down on the bar with a scowled. “Sorry, I’m sure you love hearing about everyone else’s problems.”

Rowan shrugged indifferently, even as she leaned forward on her elbows to watch as he shook drinks for a couple a few spaces down.

“You’re the perfect bartender,” she declared, “you don’t talk, you’re surly, and that whole brooding bastard look is working really well.  And I could say anything and not even faze you, couldn’t I?”

“Nothing surprises me anymore,” Rowan said.  He delivered the drinks as he finished them and returned to find her with more swiped cherries while texting someone.

She quirked an eyebrow at him before finishing the last of her drink.  She slipped out of her stool with much more ease that he would have expected.

“I wonder if you have it worse or better than the rest of us,” she said, smiling around a cherry stem.

And that image of her imprinted its self in Rowans mind long after she left.

#

Maybe, Aelin realized, she had an addiction.  The kind that made no sense.  The kind that gripped her with nothing more than coincidences and overthinking.  One that didn’t even require her to consume anything other than the sight of one person.

And she did not like it.

She didn’t even know the bartenders name.  All she knew was that he worked practically all the time at the rundown bar down the street from her apartment.  It made sense that she’d never been there before.  Sam didn’t really like the bar scene after all.  Said it was just too much.  And Aelin had known that.  Hadn’t really minded it because they had other ways of spending time together.

But that damn bar was like a stain on her mind.  It would not leave her alone.

So yet again she found herself there.

Too late or too early, she didn’t know which.  What she did know was that she probably shouldn’t have gone to the bar.  It wasn’t anything more than the fact that she really should be sleeping.  Or pounding down Lysandra’s door demanding a last-minute slumber party and not taking no for an answer.

But here she was instead.

When he looked up and found her entering the bar, he gave her a trademark scowl.  Aelin told herself that there was softness to his eyes.  No brief flicker of joy.  Just a scowl.  Because she was a pain in the ass.  

His silvery blonde hair was styled to stay out of his eyes and Aelin found herself desirous to run her fingers through it and see it messed up from it’s usual grace.  He wore jeans and a non-descript black shirt.  The style, combined with the lighting of the bar made his green eyes all the more vibrant.

“If you’re here to swipe cherries you can leave now,” he said.

“Just as cheery as ever, eh Buzzard?” she said.

He gave her a glass of water and left her alone for a few minutes.  It wasn’t much longer until he came back and began slicing limes.

Aelin watched him work in silence.  Despite his large hands he handled the knife deftly and cut perfect slices.  Aline was tempted to ask him how he’d learned to handle a knife, but figured he’d make her drink more water.

“Can I get a real drink now?” she asked.

“No.”

She scowled at him. “Why not?”

“It’s nearly two in the morning.”

“So?”

He looked up and stared at her.  His pine green eyes were unreadable pools.  

Whatever he saw in her was enough for him to grab a glass and a bottle of whiskey.  He set the items before her silently.  

Of course, as soon as she got what she wanted she didn’t want it.

Again.

Aelin stared at the amber liquid in the carefully cut glass jar.

“Do you think we have multiple shots at happiness?” she asked.

The man grunted.

“You’re as interesting as your friend.”

“I’m not having a conversation with a drunk.”

“I’m not drunk,” Aelin said defensively.

“You’re in a bar at three in the morning,” he replied, “besides, I don’t do soul searching conversations.”

“Oh of course,” Aelin said, “because that would mean actually connecting with someone.  I forgot; men don’t do that.”

He scowled at her. “I barely know you.  Besides, I make it a general rule not to cross the bar like that.”

Aelin ran a finger over the rim of the empty glass, eyes still set on him.

“I’m hardly a stranger, I’m here often enough,” she said.

“And yet I don’t know your name,” he said.  He tilted his head just barely to the side and Aelin found that the angle exposed his collar bone.  Black ink swirled along his tanned skin.  She thought she recognized some of the symbols as Celt or some sort, but then he shifted again and her view was lost.  Which was highly disappointing.  He had nice skin.  

“You already act like you do,” she said, finger still gliding over the glass cup. “Princess.”

He snorted, unconvinced and rolled his eyes.  Aelin found herself grinning.  She didn’t know what it was, but she liked being able to make him break that stoic wall of his.

“Aelin,” she said finally. “My name’s Aelin.”

He blinked those glorious pine eyes at her.  When he said nothing, Aelin wondered if he would go back to ignoring her or whatever it was he did. 

“Rowan,” he murmured, eyes still fixed on her.

“Hello, Rowan,” she said, “now tell me.  What is your understanding of finding happiness?”

#

For reasons that she could not explain, Aelin found herself returning time and time again.  She pried information from Rowan like she was trying to pull lies from a faerie.  Impossible.

But how she tried.

She learned his last name was Whitethorn.  His tattoos were in fact Celt.  He co-owned the bar with a friend.  All of his friends worked at the bar at one point or another, one night or another.  He didn’t tell her what the tattoos meant—though Aelin had an idea of who they were about.  Based mostly on what Rowan didn’t say and how easily he avoided certain conversations.

She learned other things too.  He was left-handed.  He had a dimple on one cheek.  There was a freckle on his ear.  He knew the words to most of the 80’s songs that blared on the speakers.  He had secrets.  He wanted to believe in happiness for one.

And she wanted to know more.

“You jumped out of a two-story window?” She asked in disbelief one night

Throughout the summer when she wasn’t at work or handing out with her friends, this was where she was.  Far more often than she wanted to admit.  Especially the fact that being here around him made Aelin feel...safe.  And far better than that first night she had stumbled across this place.

“You would have done the same thing,” Rowan said.  His eyes were far too wide that Aelin couldn’t stop laughing despite the somewhat serious nature of his story. “I’m pretty sure my Aunt has murdered someone before.”

“So you thought it was a good idea to break into her house?” Aelin sputtered.  Tears of mirth were brimming in her eyes as she stared at him.

“I really didn’t want to streak through the college quad,” Rowan said with a grimace. “It was below freezing that night.”

Cackling loudly, Aelin took a slow sip of her plain orange juice.  It was ten in the morning and she wasn’t needed in work until after noon.  Oh the joys of a damned internship.  It was better than the old place, but certainly not as reliable. 

“Your turn,” Rowan said, pulling away from the bar as he grabbed a clean rag to give a general wipe down to everything. “Stupidest thing you’ve ever done?”

Aelin hummed. “I don’t know…”

He pointed a finger at her. “We had a deal.”

“Well when you put it that way,” Aelin drawled, a faint blush rising on her cheeks. “I accidentally started a brush fire out behind my house.”

“Now the question is if this happened years ago or last night,” Rowan mused.

“Buzzard,” she said. 

“Fireheart,” he replied.

She rolled her eyes at him as her phone buzzed with a text and her boss's name popped up on the screen.  Aelin sighed, knowing just what it would say.  “Well, as much as I enjoy telling you all my darkest secrets, they need me to go in early.”

“Told you the plain orange juice was the better idea,” Rowan said.

“A lot less fun,” she muttered and dug a few bills from her purse.  She met his eyes and smiled. “I’ll see you later.”

Her heart fluttered when he smiled, briefly, back.

#

When Rowan realized that Aelin was probably destined to never leave him alone, he resigned himself to that fact.

Really it wouldn’t be bad.

Not with her smile.  Her laugh.  Not with the insistence she had that he and Lorcan add chocolate cake to the bar menu or make the bar pet friendly.  Not bad at all when she would come simply to talk.  Simply to sit.  Simply to be.

Until one night she came in, far too close to closing.  It was too the point that Rowan had been about to lock up that she came up to the doors, reaching for the handle.  They stared at each other for far too long before Rowan let her in.

He said nothing as she made her way behind the bar and grabbed the vodka and went to her usual stool.  He said nothing as she took a swing, cursed, and drank again.

Despite everything that he knew about her--she was ambidextrous, her parents were dead, she loved playing the piano, she couldn’t her tongue--despite all of this he had never seen her like this.

This was different from that first night she came tumbling into his life, nearly six months ago now.

“I should be getting married,” she said after a third drink.

She set the vodka down heavily and leaned her head against the bar and sighed heavily.  Slowly, Rowan came to sit beside her.  The first time really that he had done so.  They usually spent their time separated by the bar with enough distance that he could keep his emotions at bay.  

Now, Rowan was far too close to her.  He could smell the lotion she used, smell the night on her, see tears in her eyes when she finally looked up.

“Or, I would already be married,” she amended.  “Married and on my way to Mexico, though I wanted to go to Ireland.  I’ve never been and I think I have family still out there, but going to Mexico would be cheaper and warmer.  But Ireland has the ocean too, and history, and…well it’s different.  Apparently too different.”

Her words stilled as her chest heaved from everything that came tumbling out in too quick in procession like a piano solo that raged out of control and now that she’s finally caught up to herself, she doesn’t know where to go.

So she looked at him.

“He broke off the engagement without really telling me why, other than it was too soon and too much and everything else he could think of.”

The tears rolled slowly down her cheeks and she looked away from him, out over the empty bar with its scuffed floor and mismatching furniture.  There was a bulb out over head that cast them in semi-shadows, enough that things feel quieter and gentler.

Rowan waited as she collected her words, her thoughts.  He waited and remembered all the questions she’d asked him in the past about broken promises and happiness and everything in between.  He wished he’d answered her sooner.

“Aelin,” he began slowly.

“Was I not worth it?” She whispered.  Her words were aimed at the empty space.  At the nothingness of the bar that reminded Rowan of how long the nights could get.  “Was I not worth the fear and change of it all?”

Between the wondering of how they came to this and the wondering why she trusted him with her fragile words, Rowan was convinced he would do something entirely too stupid for words.

But when her gaze returned to his, Rowan found he didn’t care.

So he reached out, cupping her cheek with one of his hands.  He could feel her tears on his skin and could feel how her chin trembled with restrained sobs.

“I thought, I thought,” she said.  Her voice was ragged, abused and the words fused together.  It was enough to make Rowan lean forward, enough for him to lean his forehead against hers.

They sat that way for a long time.  Long enough for Aelin to get a hold of her staggered breathing and reign in her thundering heart.

Rowan remained silent not wanting to disturb the silence that settled around them.  He ran his thumb across her cheek, catching all the tears that fell from her eyes.  Aelin didn’t reply immediately.  She merely closed her eyes and learned further into his touch.  The soft sigh that left her lips was almost Rowan’s undoing.  How long had it been?  Only a few months and he was already enthralled by her and the way she had held herself together for so long.

“Aelin.”

Her eyes fluttered open and Rowan was convinced she could have petrified him with that gaze.  The tears that lingered there only enhanced the gold rimming her pupils.  

For a moment, Rowan thought he had overstepped his bounds, had done something she wasn’t comfortable with.  Hell, he was just a bartender.  Did she even consider him to be a friend?  She probably didn’t even reciprocate the feelings that he had been developing for her.  He made to pull away when she snatched a hand up to hold his hand in place where it still rested against her cheek.

Rowan’s heart stuttered in his chest at the movement and continued to stutter the longer they remained there.  He wet his lips before speaking, knowing full well that it could potentially be a terrible idea.  She’d never talked about that first night she came in.  Never explained much about her ex-fiance or why they’d split up.  And Rowan never pried.  Mostly because he didn’t feel like it was his place.

“You’re worth all of it.  All of it and more.”

He watched as the words sunk in, as she slowly blinked.

“You barely know me,” she whispered.

“I know enough,” he answered honestly. “You have a heart of fire.  You’re strong.  Confident.  Unforgettable.”

Still clutching his hand, Aelin turned away from him, gnawing on her bottom lip.  When she looked back at him, Rowan could see uncertainty in her eyes.  The same uncertainty he felt in his own chest.

Rowan leaned forward, drawing closer to Aelin.  They were separated by mere centimeters.  All it would take was for Aelin to tilt her chin up and capture his lips with her own.

The uncertainty that had been in her eyes was wiped away with determination and she rose up to meet him with a firm press of her lips.  Rowan could still taste the vodka lingering on her mouth as she opened to him.

Her hands immediately went to his hair, pulling through the strands.  The touch sent a shiver of pleasure through him as his own hand wandered down her waist.  They didn’t break contact as they rose from their seats and in a fluid motion, Rowan lifted Aelin onto the bar top.

Aelin arched into him as Rowan explored the planes of her skin with his mouth.  There was something electrifying about this woman, about being so near her, kissing her.  And he would be perfectly willing to spend the rest of his life doing this.

When they finally broke apart, both out of breath, they touched foreheads and merely stared into each other’s eyes.

Until Aelin hummed, fingers threading through his hair again.

“You know, you should at least buy me a drink first, Buzzard,” she said.

Rowan chuckled lowly. “Whatever you say, Fireheart.”

 #

thanks for reading dears! my ask box is always open.  I’m probably going to try and bust out some holiday drabbles for the next two weeks then move on to my other updates.

tags: @tottenhamboys20 @morganofthewildfire  @aelinchocolatelover @more-espresso-less-depresso-xx  @aelinfeyreeleven945tbln @bamchickawowow@ladywitchling @ireallyshouldsleeprn @courtofjurdan

[prettyboyjackhughes]

-Little Crosby- |D. Cozens| [Part 1]

It’s finally here! @workhorsefromwhitehorse24​ and I have been working on this for a while now and I can honestly say that this is probably my favorite thing we’ve collaborated on! This was a little outside my comfort zone but I enjoyed writing it so much! Hope you enjoy! Let us know what you think!!

“Ava Grace I’m home!” Dad calls from downstairs. I sit up and grab my sweatshirt off of the floor. 

“Coming!” I say as I pull it over my head and run out into the hall. I attempt to make it down the stairs without dying but almost fail as I get to the bottom step. “Whoops! Sorry!” I yell as I knock one of the pictures off the wall. He stands in the kitchen doorway and watches me, amused, as I fix the picture then turn to face him, a grin on my face. He had been gone for 2 weeks on a 5 game road trip, resulting in the Penguins going 4-1. Dad scored a pair of goals in the first two games. But sadly, it wasn’t enough of a push to get them to the playoffs. 

“Hi Daddy!” I say, running to hug him. He lifts me off the ground and kisses the top of my head. Dad and I have always been super close. It’s been just him and I for years. Ever since I was born, it’s just been Dad and I. Grandma and Grandpa were always in the picture too, along with Aunt Taylor. The 4 of them have been my entire world and my family for the past 17 years. My mom has never been in the picture since she and Dad had me when they were super young, before Dad was in the NHL. Dad had moved from Nova Scotia by himself when he was 15, down to Faribault, Minnesota. Mom and Dad met within his first week of school. Dad tells me I look just like her but from what I can tell, the older I get, the more I look like Dad. But basically one thing turned to another, Dad had his first taste of freedom, being away from his parents and all, and 9 months later, I was born. As soon as Grandma and Grandpa found out, they moved Taylor and everything else down to be with my dad and help out with me. But one Saturday, Mom dropped me off with Dad and told him she had decided she wanted more than raising a baby and my dad so she left me with Dad and left. I’ve never heard from her, except for one birthday card when I turned 6. Grandma and Grandpa raised me alongside Taylor until Dad’s first season in the NHL. That’s when he moved me to Pittsburgh with him. I mean, before he was in the NHL, he made sure that he was a part of my life and made sure I knew that I was his little girl. But it hasn’t really been that big of a deal that Mom hasn’t been in the picture since I’ve had Dad, Grandma and Grandpa, and Aunt Taylor, plus all of Dad’s teammates through the years. It’s been a ride, having a dad like I do. I mean, he’s pretty much the face of the NHL and one of the greatest players to ever play hockey, being Sidney Crosby and all. Everywhere we go, he gets recognized so it was always hard for him to come to my things as I was growing up. But he always made sure that someone was there for me, whether it was one of my grandparents or Aunt Taylor. But even through all of that, my dad is my best friend. I’ve never needed anyone else. 

“I missed you so much!” He says, setting me down and looking at me. I smile and nod.

“I missed you too! Nice set of goals by the way. Sorry about the playoffs...” I say, smiling as he walks into the kitchen. He shrugs as I follow him into the kitchen and sit down at the table, watching him wander around the kitchen, making one of his shakes he always drinks.

“It was a long two weeks for sure, but I’m glad I have you to come home too.” I nod and smile.

“Oh Sweetheart, before I forget, we’re going up to Toronto next weekend for the Leafs’ first playoff game, for your birthday. We’ll spend two weeks up in Toronto.” The Penguins missed out on the playoffs, ending their season early. But my Leafs made it to the first round of the playoffs. He smiles as my face lights up. The Toronto Maple Leafs are my favorite team. As disappointed as Dad was in me when he found out, he still supports it, just happy that I like hockey. My favorite player is Mitch Marner, which is a player Dad approves of. He raised me on the ice, around his team and made sure I loved hockey as much as he does. I played for 6 years but I decided I liked watching hockey better than playing. 

“Really? We are?” I say, giddy. 

“Yep, I think Tanger and Geno are going to come with us. I invited Taylor too, figured we could make a whole vacation of the trip. We can go out to dinner, shopping, all the fun, girly stuff you love. Oh and there’s a surprise flying out to see you too.” Kris Letang and Evgeni Malkin are Dad’s alternate captains and my honorary uncles. Up until about 4 years ago, I had 3 honorary uncles. Marc-André Fleury, the Penguins' goalie and now the Vegas Golden Knights’ goalie was the third. He and Dad are still close which means he still claims the third honorary uncle spot. When he got married in 2012, I was the flower girl. I’ve actually been in all 3 of my “uncle’s” weddings. They’ve been a huge part of my life since I was little, even when Dad was trying to keep me out of the spotlight.  I smile, pushing my hair out of my face. I think the thing that everyone always finds so interesting about Dad and I, is that he did such a good job keeping me out of the spotlight up until I was old enough to understand what was going on. But as soon as I started going to events with him, everyone knew I was his daughter. I mean, I look and act like a female version of Dad so it makes perfect sense that I’m his daughter.

“Ava girl, do you want to see if one of your friends wants to come with us? Might be a little boring to spend your birthday weekend with a bunch of old people.” Dad says, finally sitting down with his gross shake. I nod and laugh, thinking of who I could invite. I go to Shady Side Academy in downtown Pittsburgh, which is a big, fancy private school. There’s a little over 1,100 kids that go to my school, but only about 70 of them are in my grade. 

“Oh, I’ll invite Carter. Let me text her and see if she can go.” Carter James has been my best friend since 2nd grade. She’s my total opposite and somehow, it works. 

“Okay Honey. I’m going to go lay down for a little bit. Our flight left pretty early this morning so I’m pretty tired. Go ahead and order something for dinner. Anything but pizza please.” I pout a little, my bottom lip jutting out. He smiles and drops a kiss on the top of my head as he walks out of the kitchen and up the stairs. I walk out to the living room and flop on the couch, getting on my phone to watch Tik Tok for a while. Suddenly, the door to the house flies open and my Aunt Taylor waltzes in.

“Hello my absolute favorite niece in the entire world!” She calls, dumping her purse and everything in her hands onto the bench by the door. Grandma decorated the entire house. Dad was going to hire a decorator but Grandma insisted and somehow, Dad ended up liking what she did with the place. 

“I’m your only niece so I hope I’m your favorite. But hey Aunt Tay. What’s up?” I asked, sitting up.

“Nothing much. Just came home to drive my big brother crazy and talk about your birthday trip with you. How excited are you? Hey wait, isn’t it your 18th birthday?” I smile and nod again. Aunt Tay is a little scatterbrained and once forgot how old I was turning and bought me a 13th birthday card. I was turning 11. But of course, she always means well and loves me a ton. 

“Carter is coming with us. Do you know what the surprise is? Dad just told me there is one but didn’t say anything else.” Taylor grins as she nods.

“I’m not telling you but just know this, you’re gonna be really really excited.” She says, sitting down on the couch by my feet. 

“So how’s things at school? Still thinking about going to UPenn?” She asks, tapping her thumb against my knee. I sigh.

“Ugh I don’t know anymore. I fell in love with UPenn when I visited there with Grandma last fall but I don’t know if I want to be that far away from everyone. I mean, it’s only 4 hours but going from how things are now to that? That’s a lot to process.” She nods, watching me. 

“Well Honey, you know your dad would make sure you had a car on campus and everything. So you can always come back home and visit. But I mean, it’s been you and your dad since you were a baby. Maybe it’s time to go out on your own a little?” I cringe a little at the thought.

“I don’t wanna leave!” I say, falling into Taylor’s lap and drawing out the end of the word. She laughs and smooths my hair down. 

“We’ll figure something out. You’ve still got time, Ava Grace.” She says and somehow, those words make all the anxiety I have about college and everything else coming up in my future fade to a dull roar instead of the screams it has been for the past couple weeks. I’ve always been able to talk to Dad about anything which is why he and I have such a good relationship now. But the one thing I haven’t been able to talk to him about is college. Dad went straight from high school into the NHL. He always claims to understand but I’m pretty sure it just confuses him sometimes. 

“Okay you two, it’s very hard to sleep when all I can hear is laughing and carrying on.” Dad says, coming back downstairs. 

“Yeah yeah, keep it down, Patrick.” Taylor says, looking up at Dad. Dad hates being called by his middle name which is why Taylor calls him that. He rolls his eyes and bats her hand away as she reaches up to poke him. When the two of them are together, Grandma always says they act like they did when they were little. 

“Have you girls figured out everything for us leaving on Thursday? Ava, is Carter going with us?” I grab my phone off the arm of the couch and turn it on, quickly reading the notifications on the screen.

“Yeah she’s going. And she’s gonna be here in 3, 2, 1!” I count down as the door bursts open again. Carter and my Aunt Taylor are two peas in a pod. They’re practically the same person which is why I love them both so much.

 “Hello Crosby family!” She shouts, sliding across the floor and landing on top of me.

“Oh this is going to be a long two weeks.” Dad says, laughing and rubbing his forehead. 

“So we’re going to Toronto for your 18th birthday? And to see the love of your life? Hell yeah this is going to be a great trip.” Carter says, looking up at me. 

“Okay, Carter James, slow down please.” I say, patting her head. 

“Wait, isn’t the legal drinking age in Canada, 18?” Carter asks, sitting up and looking at Dad.

“Oh my God Sidney Patrick. You’re taking your daughter to Canada to drink for her 18th birthday?” Taylor says, looking over at Dad with a smirk on her face. 

“Taylor Jane, you’d better cut it out or you’re not going anymore.” He says, shaking his finger at her. Carter and I laugh and Taylor rolls her eyes.

“She’s responsible enough to handle this. You two are the ones I have to worry about.” Dad says, pointing at Carter and Aunt Taylor. 

“Tanger and Geno are going too? Oh this is going to be a blast!” Taylor says, rubbing her hands together and grinning evilly. Dad’s head drops into his hands and the 3 of us burst out laughing. Carter and I spend the rest of the evening planning our trip out while Dad and Aunt Taylor watch the St. Cloud game. The week leading up to our trip to Toronto flies by, but my excitement for the game only builds. It’s not the first time I’ve been to a Leafs game, nor is it the first time I’ve gotten to watch my favorite player play. But it’s happening on my 18th birthday and that makes it even more exciting. 

Thursday morning, two days before my birthday, Carter wakes me up by bouncing on my bed. 

“We’re leaving today!” She sings, bouncing more. I roll over and groan. 

“Carter James, it’s too early!” I say, shoving her. She laughs at me and I sit up.

“Come on, we’re going to dinner with the love of your life tonight!” She says. I jump out of bed and look at her, eyes wide. I’m 100% a Mitch Marner fan girl. Carter thinks it’s hilarious but she’s the exact same way for Patrick Kane. We ran into him at the Stanley Cup Finals one year and she was speechless. 

“What are you talking about? Dinner with who?” I ask. Dad walks in and is now standing in my doorway.

“I called in a few favors and we’re going to dinner with Mitch Marner and Morgan Rielly tonight. How does that sound?” He says, as my mouth drops open.

“Oh my God thank you thank you Daddy!” I say, running over to hug him. He smiles and Carter laughs. 

“She’s gonna faint as soon as she sees him. Total freak out.” Carter says, crossing her arms and laughing. 

“I am not! I’ll be perfectly fine. It’s just another hockey player. Not like I’m in love with him or anything.” I say, pointing at her. She rolls her eyes and we both laugh.

“Where my favorite birthday girl?” I hear a deep voice call from downstairs.

“Geno, it’s too early for you to be this loud. Shut up.” I hear Taylor say.

“I take it G and Tanger just got here?” Dad calls and Taylor groans in response. 

“Alright girls get ready and we’ll leave in a little over an hour. Go down and say hi to everyone first though.” I nod and follow Dad downstairs, Carter tagging along behind me. 

“Hi Uncle Geno, Uncle Kris!” I say, running to hug both of them as they stand up from where they were sitting on the couch. Taylor is taking up the other end of the couch, facedown in a pillow. “Are you excited for your birthday trip?” Kris asks, patting my back as he hugs me.

“I’m so excited. Do you know what my surprise is? Dad still won’t tell me.” Geno laughs, still too loud for Taylor apparently because a pillow goes flying across the room and just misses his head.

“Tay, go drink some coffee please, you’re being a brat right now.” Dad says, patting her head.

“I know surprise. You like a lot.” Geno says, crossing his arms and looking down at me. I raise an eyebrow. I’ve been the victim of one of Dad’s surprises before and let’s just say he doesn’t have the best track record when it comes to surprises. 

“Is it bad that I’ve been your best friend for 12 years and I still can’t understand what he’s saying?” Carter asks, leaning over to me. I laugh and Geno looks between the two of us.

“Who you? You Ava’s best friend?” Carter rolls her eyes and nudges Geno, who laughs again and hugs her. “Alright, Little Crosby, let’s get this show on the road.” Kris says, pointing towards the stairs. I smile and rush upstairs to get dressed and grab my bags. I pick out a pair of black leggings and a peach colored Adidas sweatshirt. I change into the clothes and put my pajamas in the dirty clothes. I put on mascara quickly, finishing everything off with some lip gloss. I grab my Birkenstocks and slip them on. 

“Okay, I’m ready!” I call as I drag my bag down the stairs behind me. I again attempt not to die on my way down the stairs. But yet again, I fail.

 “Oh God, Little Crosby.” Kris says, somehow managing to catch me as I trip down the last 3 steps. 

“Your daughter is a human wrecking ball. You know that, right Sid?” Dad laughs and nods.

“I haven’t killed myself yet. So far, we’re safe.” Everyone laughs and I smile. All these people filling this house are my entire family. They’ve raised me and I wouldn’t be who I am without all of them. 

“Okay, let’s get going! Our flight leaves in 45 minutes!” Dad calls, attempting to herd us all towards the door. Taylor has finally had her coffee and returned to the world of the living. 

“Toronto here we come!” She calls as we all get out the door and into the two cars we’re taking. Dad locks the door behind us and turns to look at me.

“You excited, Ava Grace?” I nod and he hugs me to his side.“I hope this lives up to your idea of the perfect 18th birthday.” I laugh and nod again as we head to his car. 

The drive to the airport and the flight to Toronto are pretty boring but Kris and Taylor keep everyone entertained the whole trip. Carter finally crashed after the Red Bulls she had while we were waiting for our flight to get called in the airport, leaving me to my own thoughts pretty much the entire flight. When we land in Toronto, everyone is pretty excited for the next two weeks. 

“Little Crosby surprise time!” Geno calls from the back of our group.

“Geno, we’re still in an airport. Keep it down a little please?” Carter says, patting his arm. Dad scoffs and looks between me and Carter.

“He’s right though, your surprise is right through those doors.” Dad says, pointing towards the exit of the airport. I see Taylor pull her phone out of her pocket and start recording me. I hand my bag to Kris and look over at Geno who motions me towards the door. I walk towards the doors, which slide open. I glanced around then back at Dad and Taylor who followed me out.   

“Little Crosby!” I hear a very familiar voice yell over the buzz of the airport.

“Oh my God! Uncle Flower!” I shout, rushing towards my uncle Marc and hugging him.

“Surprise!” Dad calls, smiling as I hug Marc.

 “So you were my surprise?” I say, stepping back and looking at him.

“Yep, I was the big wonderful surprise. Hope you weren’t too disappointed.” He says, smiling as his arm rests around my shoulders.

“I figured you’d want all of your uncles here for your big 18th birthday. So we worked it out and got him here for you.” I smile, quickly hugging Dad before returning to hug Marc again. 

“Alright well, it’s time to get heading to the hotel. We’re going to dinner at 6:30 tonight. Geno, Flower and Kris are taking Tay to something that I know nothing about. And you’re okay with Carter going with us?” I nod as Marc leads us and the rest of our group to the waiting van. 

“I’m taking a nap when we get to the hotel. You woke me up too early this morning.” I say, nudging Carter as she slides into the van next to me. 

“Sounds like a plan. The Red Bull ran out.” She says, laying her head on my shoulder. The two of us manage to fall asleep on the 20 minute drive to the hotel. Geno shakes us both awake when we get to the hotel. We sleepily wander into the hotel and wait in the lobby while Dad and Tay get everything figured out. The adults herd us all over to the elevator and into it, somehow managing to get us all to the conjoined rooms we have for the next two weeks. As soon as we make it into the rooms, Carter and I collapse onto the bed we’ll be sharing and fall asleep. 

About 2 and a half hours later, Dad comes in and wakes us up.

“Girls, we have about an hour before we have to leave for dinner. Go ahead and start getting ready.” He calls as he closes the door behind him. I sit up and stretch, the excitement building in my chest all over again.

“Okay, I think I’m gonna curl my hair and wear that frilly, layered red skirt with the white sweater and my little brown boots. What about you, Carter?” I ask, looking back at her who is still laying in bed. 

“So I have to dress nice right? I think the army green pants romper thing with my jean jacket, Vans and straight hair. Sound good?” She asks, finally sitting up. I nod and get started curling my hair. She gets started on doing her makeup while I work on my hair. Somehow, we both end up being done with plenty of time left to spare. So we do what typical teenagers do and spend the extra 15 minutes we have, on our phones. Dad comes in and the two of us follow him down to the elevator and out to the car. It’s some super nice, fancy car; just like the one that lives in our garage except on home game days. Dad lets Carter play music which automatically, I can tell, he regrets as Cotton Eye Joe plays for the third time. Carter is having the time of her life and I can’t help but laugh along with her. When we get to the restaurant, it’s one Dad and I came to, back when we came to Toronto for some charity event a few years ago.

“Alright, how excited are you?” Dad asks, as he parks the car and we climb out. I squeal a little and Carter laughs. Dad smiles, draping his arm around my shoulders as I link arms with Carter. The 3 of us waltz into the restaurant and walk up to the hostess.

“Hello, Mr. Crosby. Your two guests are already seated.” I squeeze Carter’s arm and we squeal a little together. As we follow the hostess to our table, back in the back, we pass a table with two teenage boys. One looks Carter up and down, obviously checking her out, while the other locks eyes with me. I smile, forcing myself to look away as we disappear into the back, private room Dad reserved for us. 

“Holy crap, did you see those guys?” Carter whisper-yells into my ear. I nod, trying to focus on the fact that Mitch Marner is standing a few feet away from me, a grin on his face, instead of the guy I just saw.

“Hey Sid. This must be Ava and Carter. Nice to meet you girls.” Mitch says, reaching his hand out. I shake it, the smile on my face impossibly large. Morgan Rielly stands next to him and shakes our hands as well. As we all sit down, I happen to glance around the room and see that both of the boys are looking into the room. As much as I want to pay attention to what Mitch, Mo and Dad are talking about, I can’t. I’m too distracted by the boy I saw. Carter, apparently can’t either. 

“Ava, they were literally so hot. Can I please go get their numbers?” She asks, nudging me when she catches me staring again.

 “No! Dad will kill me if he catches me talking to a boy!” I whisper-yell, glancing up at Dad and Mitch. 

“Ava Grace, that could be your freaking soulmate and you’ll never know because you won’t let me go get their numbers!” I roll my eyes and glance over my shoulder at the boys’ table. Sadly, they’re gone and I sigh, looking over at Carter.

“They’re gone anyway. Not like we’re ever gonna see them again anyways.” I say, glumly, resting my chin on my hand. She shakes her head. “There went your soulmate.” I sigh, knowing she won’t let me live this down. Dad clears his throat, pulling Carter and I back to the conversation happening at the table.

“So Ava, I hear you’re a pretty big fan of mine.” Mitch says, leaning on his elbows against the table. I smile, taking in all of his features.

“Yeah, you’ve been my favorite since you came into the league. Dad’s always a little disappointed when I don’t tell people he’s my favorite player.” Mitch and Mo laugh. The rest of the evening, conversation flows easily and Carter and I both have a blast. As I glance at my Apple watch and see the time, Carter nudges me again. 

“Your dad is looking at you funny.” She says, nodding her head towards Dad. I look up, my eyes meeting my dad’s gaze.

“It’s getting late, are you girls ready to head back to the hotel? Your aunt and uncles should be getting back soon too.” Carter and I nod and I turn to look at Mitch.

“I’ll be wearing your jersey on Saturday night. Don’t disappoint me. Also it’s my birthday so a goal or two would be nice.” Mitch and Mo laugh as Dad smiles down at me. 

“I will try my hardest. Glad we could spend the evening with you lovely ladies. See you on Saturday after the game? There’ll be passes for your whole group at the ticket desk.” My face lights up and I know Carter’s does too.“Okay great! See you then! Good luck!” I say, standing and hugging Mitch. Mo shakes Dad’s hand and then the two of them head out. 

“You two seemed very distracted all during dinner. Was everything okay?” Dad asks as the 3 of us head back out to the car after he pays.“Yeah everything was fine. Dinner was super good and fun. Carter just saw some cute boy and wouldn’t shut up about him.” Dad laughs and rolls his eyes.

“Hey, in my defense, your daughter was looking too so it wasn’t just me.” Carter says, crossing her arms. Dad’s head whips around as we climb in the car.

“A boy? What?” I groan internally and elbow Carter. I’ve never been that into boys. I mean, I’ve thought plenty of boys were cute and had quite a few guy friends but I’ve never had the time or the effort that comes with having a relationship. So it’s never been a topic of conversation for Dad and I. 

“Nothing, it was nothing. Don’t worry about it, Dad.” I say, trying to avoid the topic. 

“It’s interesting though. I was just talking to your uncle Kris about how you’ve never had a boyfriend or anything like that. Which is fine with me because I know what boys are like.” Dad says as we drive back to the hotel. Carter is dying sitting next to me, her hand pressed against her mouth to avoid laughing out loud.

“I-I know...I’ve just never had the time or wanted one.” I say, burying my head in my hands. 

“Well you don’t need one. You have all the guys you need in your life. Me, your Uncle Geno, Uncle Kris, Uncle Marc, and Grandpa.” Carter finally bursts out laughing and Dad looks in the rearview mirror at me. 

“I’m serious, Ava Grace. Why do you need a boyfriend?” Dad has never really been the overprotective dad. He’s protective for sure but he kind of lets me do my own thing most of the time. He knows if I need to, I’ll come to him or one of the other main adults in my life. But he lets me make my own decisions and figure life out by myself. This whole ‘no boyfriend’ thing that he’s doing right now is new. 

“I guess I don’t. You’re right.” I say, putting an end to the conversation by turning and looking out the window. Thankfully, Dad doesn’t push any farther. The 3 of us ride in silence, the radio off, the rest of the way back to the hotel. Once we get into the hotel and up to our rooms, I tell Dad goodnight, give him a hug and a kiss then follow Carter into our room. Carter distracts me from the disaster of a conversation that was with Dad and forces me to watch some cheesy rom-com with her. I fall asleep midway through and sleep in late the next day. Taylor takes Carter and I out shopping all day on Friday while my dad and the uncles do who knows what. The topic of boys is avoided all day, All night at dinner on Friday, we catch up with everyone. I fill Marc in on what Dad’s latest old person moment was, even though he’s only 33. Everything seems so perfect and happy but I keep replaying the conversation with Dad over and over again in my head. 

Saturday morning, my birthday morning, Carter wakes me up with cake in bed. It’s a tradition we started when we were 12. Every year on our birthday, the other girl brings the birthday girl cake in bed. It’s one of my favorite birthday traditions. 

“Happy birthday Little Crosby! You are adult now!” Geno calls, leading the rest of my family into my room. Dad brings up the end of the line and walks over to the bed. He hugs me, pressing a kiss to my forehead.“Happy birthday my sweet girl.” He says, smoothing my hair down and getting all teary-eyed. 

“I can’t believe the young lady you’ve grown into. You are beautiful, strong, independent and so responsible. I...I didn’t think things would end up this way, especially with your mom not being in the picture. But I look around you and I see all these people who helped raise you and I know, you’ve turned out more than okay. I love you Ava Grace and will always love you. Happy birthday.” Dad says. I take another bite of the cake Carter brought me and smile up at him.

“I love you so much, Daddy. Thank you for everything. Thank you everyone for everything you’ve done for me. I love all of you.” They all share a sappy smile and I keep eating my cake. The rest of the day, we hang out at the hotel, lounging around before the game tonight at 7. Marc and Geno see how many pieces of pizza they can eat while Dad keeps score. Taylor paints Carter’s nails and I pick at mine. Kris sneaks out to buy me ice cream and comes back with at least 10 different kinds, all of them my favorite in one way or another. 

Carter and I start getting ready around 4:30 so we’re ready to leave by 5. I straighten my hair and do just light makeup. I dig my Mitch Marner jersey out of my bag and put it on with some black leggings. Carter wears the jersey of the only Leaf she likes, Frederik Andersen. She opted for black ripped jeans instead of leggings. Everyone else is just dressed casual. Marc did wear a Leafs hat just to please me. The drive to the arena, Carter gets to play music again. She plays our ‘Hockey Game Hype Up’ playlist, something we made a few years ago. Even though I’m the music person, she’s much better at putting playlists together. I’m only really good at finding one or two songs I love and just playing them over and over again. As the songs ‘Auston Matthews’ by Svdvm and ‘Toronto Maple Leafs Anthem’ by JDME play back to back, we pull into the arena parking lot. No matter how many times I’ve been to Scotiabank Arena, it never ceases to amaze me. I think I’ve been here a grand total of like 15 times in the last 10 years, solidifying it as my favorite arena. 

“Come on Ava, let’s go watch your boy play.” Carter says, linking her arm through mine. She leads me and the rest of our group into the arena. Everyone else heads to the box but I decide to stay down in the main area and wander around a bit, making sure I get the full experience again. All around me, Leafs fans are hurrying to one place or another. I take everything, wanting to remember this for the rest of my life. As I’m walking down a small set of stairs, I collide with a pretty solid body. And of course, with my human wrecking ball abilities, I manage to take both of us down, all the way to the ground. “Shit! I’m so sorry, are you okay?” I ask, sitting up and looking at the boy I collided with. He sits up, looks at me, down at the ground, then back up at me. His eyes are huge.

“I-Oh my God. Yeah-Yeah I’m okay! Are you?” He asks, jumping to his feet and reaching his hand out to help me up. I take his hand and he pulls me to my feet. “Yeah I’m all good. Sorry for taking you out. I’m known for being clumsy. Like the jersey by the way.” I say, pointing to where the number 16 is stitched into the arm of his jersey. The same number sprawled across my back.

“Hey, I like yours too. Marner your favorite player?” I nod, pushing my hair back out of my face.

“Yeah, I grew up a Penguins fan because of my dad but the Leafs are my favorite team.” He smiles and nods. He looks so familiar but I can’t place where I know him from. Talking to him comes so naturally and it seems like the world just goes on around us while we stand there and talk. Before I know it, they’re starting the lineup announcements.

“Oh shoot, I gotta get going. Enjoy the game!” I call over my shoulder as I run back towards the box we’re all sitting in. Of course, I trip up the steps and almost fall. As I glance over my shoulder, I see the boy with a smirk on his face. I blush and mentally kick myself for first off accidentally tackling a cute boy then tripping and almost falling in front of him. As I rush back into the box, Dad eyes me with a raised eyebrow. I huff and flop into my seat next to Marc and Carter. Carter glances at me out of the corner of her eye and smirks.

“Why are you all red and bothered about?” I bite my lip and Marc looks over at me.“I accidentally tackled a cute boy…” I say, burying my head in my hands. Carter and Marc laugh and Marc pats my back.

“There there, Little Crosby. I did much worse to your aunt Véronique.” I laugh and lean my head on his shoulder. Geno and Kris are behind us, teasing Taylor as Dad watches what’s going on down on the ice. His hand is resting on my shoulder, absentmindedly squeezing and releasing in a protective way. As I sit there, watching the game, all I can think about is the boy. But as I do, I think about the conversation Dad and I had last night in the car. Did he really mean what he said? Would he really get upset if I did ever decide to have a boyfriend?

[spencersawkward]

switchblade faith // spencer reid - chapter 1

summary: one month after joining the BAU, Clea is still settling in. between solving murders and getting acclimated to DC, the only comfortable thing in her life is her friendship with Dr. Spencer Reid.

relationship: fem!OC/Spencer Reid

word count: 3.4k

hi all! welcome to my new story.

I've never written a baby Spence fic before, but I'm gonna try my best. I just wanted to get something out of the way before the book starts:

aside from the fact that it's young Spencer, this book isn't placed in a specific season. I might pull cases from different episodes, but the characters will remain the same. I've included Emily and Rossi as characters because I couldn't bear to have a story without either of them (wouldn't want to subject any of you to a Prentiss-less world).

that's pretty much it. I'm glad you're here. if you wanna read my other stories, my masterlist is here.

happy reading :)

"HA!" I slap my hand down on the pile of cards and slide it towards me, organizing them in a neat pile with a smug expression.

"this game is a sham." Spencer sighs, reaching for his book.

"you're just mad you lost." I raise an eyebrow and shuffle the cards again. "you don't wanna play another round?"

"why would I? the only skill this game requires is fast reflexes." he runs hazel eyes down the page with an alarming quickness. I scoff at his disinterest.

"maybe if you trained those reflexes as much as you trained that big genius brain of yours, you'd get a leg up." Morgan teases from his spot next to me. Spencer glances at him with a frown, his cheeks turning a light pink, before looking to me. I throw up my hands.

"he said it, not me." secretly, I smile at the fact that Derek is backing me up.

"I could beat any of you in poker." Reid defends.

"easily. it helps that I don't even know how to play." I slide the cards back into the holder and cross my arms over my chest with a sigh.

"you don't know how to play poker?" he's shocked.

"I told you, I hate card games like that!" I emphasize. things like poker, blackjack, anything that involves multiple players, I usually don't enjoy much. Emily glances up from her case file with a tiny smirk.

"why?"

"I'm a sore loser." I admit, averting my eyes. there's also the risk factor involved, which includes giving up coins or pretzels or peanuts if I lose. I tend to cling tightly to all three. Prentiss lets out a laugh and Spencer flips the page of his book.

"and winner, apparently."

"you're sassy today, aren't you?" I grin at him, pleasantly surprised.

in the month I've been working here, I haven't spoken to Spencer very much. he's been polite and I've gotten to know his intellect quite well, but he doesn't spend a lot of time with us outside of work. when we go out to get drinks, he either declines or heads home before we can even ask, a bag full of books pressed to his side.

I think he just takes a while to get comfortable around new people-- that's what JJ said when I asked why he seemed to be avoiding me. the fact that he played cards with me today felt like a victory in itself, so I'll take what I can get.

Spencer doesn't reply to my dig, only crosses his long, narrow legs and settles into his book.

"we should start briefing before we land." Hotch and Rossi walk over from their spots at the front of the plane to sit on the couch by our table. I nod eagerly and watch as Emily flips open her laptop to FaceTime Penelope about the case.

the first couple cases were more difficult than I expected because I had never worked in the field before joining the BAU, but I'm starting to get used to flying around constantly and examining actual dead bodies. working sex crimes meant I spent most of my time in front of a computer screen or just staying in the office. this is incredibly different-- which I'm starting to find might not to be a bad thing.

"--the virus killed her hard drive and left that on the screen." Penelope explains, referring to the picture of Heather Woodland's computer.

"'for heaven's sake, catch me before I kill more. I cannot control myself'." Morgan reads the message aloud from the case file. the words feel familiar in my mind and I try to remember where I've heard them before.

"that's exactly what William Heirens left behind." Spencer sparks the memory. I sit up straighter.

"the Lipstick Killer?" my fingertips trace over the case details. it's a weird aspect of the murder to emulate, especially because he didn't even leave the message in lipstick. I guess he's not really concerned with that; based on the unsub's previous victims, we have just under 36 hours to find her.

"his first victim was Melissa Kirsh, 26," Reid scratches his nose as he reads, frowning so hard that I start to think he'll form permanent wrinkles. he's got such a baby face, it's almost funny. "stab wounds, strangulation."

"so he stabbed her first, and then strangled her to finish the job?" Morgan repeats.

"what's with using a belt for the second murder?" Emily flips through the papers, confused. Spencer stiffens in his spot as he realizes this is the perfect time to share his freakishly expansive forensic knowledge.

"strangulation with your bare hands actually isn't as easy as you would believe. he probably tried it, found that it took too long, then stabbed her. and blood takes a long time to clean, so he decided a belt would be more efficient."

"he's perfecting his method." I can't tear my eyes away from the photos, despite the roiling sensation they put in my stomach. even with the things I've already seen, I don't think I'll ever get over photographs like this.

"we'll be landing soon and then we're meeting up with the Seattle field office. be ready to split up once we hit the ground." Hotch snaps shut his case file and stands up, breaking off to go sit alone. Rossi takes note of the old card deck that sits on the table.

"poker?" he looks between the four of us.

"nope." Emily chuckles.

"this one doesn't know how to play." Morgan gestures to me, causing Rossi to turn to me.

"were you raised in a barn?" he asks in his usual manner of speaking: blunt sarcasm with a hint of mockery. I frown sarcastically.

"something like that."

"at some point this week, we'll sit down and I'll teach you." he gets up, pats my shoulder, and walks over to join Hotch. I lower my voice once he's far enough away.

"is he actually gonna make me do that?"

"you don't know Rossi." Morgan shakes his head slowly, slides his headphones back on, and sinks into his seat.

"I'll join and bring JJ with me." Emily winks at me reassuringly, noting the tapping of my nail against the surface of the table. Rossi is a legend in the field and I've read all of his books, but didn't want to freak him out by telling him so. it was embarrassing enough when I met him and got tongue-tied while shaking his hand. he's got an elusive energy that intimidates me, and I'd prefer not to showcase that by humiliating myself with poker.

instead of dwelling on thoughts of how I'm going to fail in front of my idol, I open up one of my books and try to pass the time.

...

while I'm writing some notes on one of the many white boards scattered throughout the field office, I realize that I'm one of four other women in the room, including Emily. she's talking to Hotch and another agent at the opposite end of the room; Reid is unpacking his signature book bag and seems deep in thought. Rossi is reading a document. everyone around me seems to be in a hurry to do something, and I begin to feel dumb.

"you okay?" Morgan asks me. I realize that I've been standing with my marker hovering over the board. my fingertips press into my temple before I turn to him.

"yeah, definitely. just thinking." my mind travels to the map we've got pasted up and the red marker lines that Spencer has already created with the geographical profile.

"looks like we're getting the classic Seattle treatment." Derek points outside to the rain pelting the windows, streaming down the glass and distorting the glow of the city outside. it's gloomy today, with a slight chill running through the streets. I nod and turn back to my task, suddenly realizing something.

"he's willing to travel with the body." I mutter to myself. Morgan steps up next to me, crosses his arms across his chest.

"he must drive a vehicle that can conceal one, then." he glances over to Hotch to see what the unit chief has to say, but Spencer speaks up first.

"one in seven point four drivers in Seattle owns an SUV." it's like a flip switches at the mention of a statistic, diverting his attention from something nebulous in his mind to the tangible case. he's a little similar to a robot.

"an Explorer with tinted windows?" Morgan speaks again as he looks over the case photos.

"those rate higher among women." Spencer again.

"sure, but how do we know it's his car?" I wonder.

"what about a Jeep Cherokee?" Hotch chimes in, almost startling me with the deep register of his voice. I pull my bottom lip between my teeth as I think on it.

"Jeeps are more masculine." Reid comes close to me in order to examine the picture I'm holding. he smells like clean laundry and some nice soap scent that I can't place. maybe it's the gel he uses to slick back his hair. no cologne or aftershave. I don't think he'd need to shave, what with his smooth baby face.

Spencer has some special quirks that make him a little more interesting. he usually avoids physical contact with other people-- doesn't shake hands-- but at other times, he doesn't seem to have self-awareness. like right now, where the shoulder of his red sweater is just barely touching mine. I hand him the picture and step away.

"unsubs love to assert their masculinity."

Hotch nods along, encouraging me to share more of what I'm thinking. after swallowing down a lingering nervousness, I tap the push pin marking where the last body was dumped. "he dropped her out-of-state, so he probably has a previous knowledge of law enforcement. maybe he's got a criminal record?"

"good, Williams." Hotch praises me. my fist clenches triumphantly at my side as he turns to the agent who has been watching us intently. "when do we meet with your task force?"

"four." the man replies. I balk at this, my posture shifting. the shortest time constraint I've ever had here has been a full day. it's already one in the afternoon.

"you want an accurate profile by four today?" I glance between Morgan and Spencer, but the latter is rocking back and forth on his heels with his eyes glued to the white board. Morgan doesn't seem put off by it.

"we can do that." Hotch scowls, snapping shut the case file with a finality that tells me we're about to split up. "Dave and Morgan, head to the last dump site. Williams, Reid, I want you to talk to Heather's brother and try to find out what you can about her life. Prentiss and I will stay here in case of new developments."

I nod curtly, grab my jacket, and glance over at Spencer. he runs his hand over his hair, although I can't imagine what there is to smooth down, then walks over to me.

"you ready to go?" I ask, brandishing the file. he and I have only done two interviews together; I spent most of my beginning weeks working with Emily to get a feel for the job. both times with the boy genius have been fine, if not a little awkward.

he nods in answer to my question. "would you mind driving?"

"no license?" I tease to lighten the mood, but he doesn't get the joke. instead, he frowns at me with something of a distracted expression, adjusts his bag.

"no, I don't like driving in the rain."

"oh," I recover quickly and put a friendly smile on my face. "no problem."

"thanks." he walks ahead of me and I cringe at my own behavior. he acts so differently from earlier on the jet that I start to wonder if I did something wrong. maybe he's just in his head or something; I know I would be if I had an IQ that enormous.

when we get to the house of Heather Woodland's brother, a gorgeous golden lab greets us in the entryway. she puts her paws up on my legs and I reach down to scratch behind her ears with a smile on my face.

"Sandy, calm down." her owner grabs her collar gently to calm her. "sorry."

"no, it's fine, I love dogs." I wave it off and step inside. Spencer is eyeing Sandy warily, but she seems just as eager to say hi to him as she was to me. when she lets out a singular, enthusiastic bark, he startles.

"Mr. Woodland," I suppress my laugh by changing the subject. "I'm Special Agent Williams and this is Special Agent Dr. Reid."

we shake hands, my colleague giving his usual wave and polite smile. the interviewee takes in Spencer's appearance. I know what's coming.

"you look too young for medical school." Woodland says to Reid. this has happened a couple times since I joined the team, but Spencer never seems to mind. if anything, he lights up at the opportunity to share the reason for his official title.

"they're PhD's. three of them." he gives a little smile as we walk into the house, me shaking a few stray raindrops from my hair.

"so... are you a genius or something?" Heather's brother leads us past the hallway into the living room, which is unkempt and littered with pictures, catalogs, and toys. he must have kids in school right now. that would also explain the breed of dog.

"I don't believe that intelligence can be accurately quantified."

"he's being modest," I glance over at Spencer. "Dr. Reid can read 20,000 words a minute-- he's definitely a genius."

Woodland stares at Spencer for a second as he tries to fathom the speed at which someone's mind would have to turn in order to process all that information. I still can't imagine it. Spencer's eyes avoid Woodland's shyly. instead, he watches me as I pet Sandy.

soon after, we ask him about Heather's personality and tendencies. her brother is more than willing to give us all the information we need. I'm surprised, however, by my partner's ease at wandering around Woodland's house, flipping through the magazines on top of the TV and reading the spines of books on shelves. he's quite conspicuous about it.

about halfway through my mental list of questions, Sandy keeps jumping up and wagging her til.

"I'm gonna take her to the backyard quick," Woodland tells us. "one second."

he ducks out of the room and I wait until I know he's out of earshot before sidling up beside Reid.

"there's an immediate relationship established between a buyer and a seller," he tells me, holding up a Datsun Z catalog. we know that she was in the market for one. "if I want to coax a young woman into my car..."

"offer her a test drive." I finish his sentence. of course, within ten minutes of sifting through this woman's house, Spencer has figured out the ruse used to lure her. Woodland returns a moment later with a smile, but we tell him that we've gotten the information we need before leaving.

in the car, Spencer theorizes about the unsub's mental condition as I try to navigate traffic in the storm. thunder rumbles overhead, occasionally sending a vibration through the car. my knuckles tighten around the wheel a bit. I also hate driving in the rain. his rambles fills the silence, however, and somewhat soothe my nerves.

"he doesn't have the MO of a paranoid psychotic. dumping the bodies out in the open, with a weapon nearby... that doesn't align."

"he covers their eyes with duct tape multiple times over, though. he knows he's going to kill them, but he doesn't want them to see his face?" my fingertips drum over the wheel nervously.

"what's wrong?" Spencer asks suddenly, glancing at my hands and then at my face. I still my movements at the change in subject.

"huh? nothing. I just don't like driving in the rain, either."

"oh. I'm sorry." he straightens a bit in his seat. the apology surprises me a little, but he seems genuinely sympathetic. I guess I really don't know him that well.

"it's cool."

we fall into an awkward silence and I bite my lip. we should get back to talking about the case. heaven knows Spencer has more facts to spew, more theories to share about this unsub. anything is better than the gap in conversation. I open my mouth to say more about what we learned at the house, except Spencer speaks first.

"so... how are you liking working here?" he asks awkwardly. it takes a second for the question to register with me. he sounds uncomfortable whenever we're alone and that makes me uncomfortable in turn. where everyone else was quick to include me in their jokes and discussions, Reid always sounds like talking to me exhausts him. it's obvious that he's socially awkward. there's no judgement from me; I'm just surprised that he's pushing to talk about non work-related subjects.

"I like it," not really an accurate summation. I don't think a heart-to-heart is exactly the right move when talking to him. "a little stressful, though."

"you worked in sex crimes before, right?" he looks out the window. there isn't much to see except for the rain-blurred skyline. I nod.

"yep."

"that sounds... hard." he shifts in his seat as he tries to come up with more points of conversation. it's kind of endearing, honestly. I throw him a bone.

"so is profiling."

"why'd you switch?" his eyes flit over to mine as he quickly adds, "if you don't mind me asking."

I take a second to come up with an answer. of course, there's the classic response: I've always wanted to help people— which isn't wrong— it's also not the whole answer. all through college and the Academy, I had my head focused on one thing. I could interview killers and get inside their heads, but there's something entirely different that you don't get from pure research. and one person inspired that in me before I had finished high school.

"don't tell him I said this, but I really wanted to work with Rossi." I say in a hushed tone. there's a slight smile on my lips because I haven't told anyone on the team in fear of being teased. I don't think Spencer is likely to gossip with Rossi about me, though.

"really?" now he sounds surprised.

"I've read all his books and I've been to a couple lectures. he doesn't remember me, evidently." the thought is more funny than embarrassing. he spoke at my college a few years back and I recall being on the edge of my seat, trying to come up with the courage to ask the questions that filled my head. I was too shy.

"does he know you're a fan?" Spencer loosens up a bit.

"nope," we pull off the freeway as we near the field office. I stop at a red light and look over. "I didn't want to embarrass myself with the whole 'your work changed my life' spiel."

at this, Spencer lets out a short, nervous giggle. it's a nice sound, that laugh. it makes me smile when he seems to relax in his seat.

"that's exactly what I did." he says. I frown.

"you told him his books changed your life?" I blush as I realize I just inadvertently made fun of him.

"I, um... well, I got excited to talk about his research." he averts his gaze again and his cheeks turn a slight pink. there's a dimple in his cheek, I notice, that keeps tugging upward. this is my first time having a non-forced moment with Spencer alone; a wave of satisfaction washes over me as I realize the potential for another friend here.

"trust me, I get it." I laugh. we pull into the parking ramp for the field office and I find a spot by the door. Spencer hoists that bag into his lap and runs his hand through his hair. when I pull the key out of the ignition, he waits for me to get out of the car before we start walking toward the door.

it's small, but I appreciate that he doesn't run off without me. we don't talk as we walk, our footsteps echoing along the cement walls.

oh my god first chapter holy fuck! it's short, but I don't wanna overwhelm. I'm so excited for this book!

[avengerscompound]

The Surrogate - Chapter 13

The Surrogate:  A Clintasha Fanfic

Masterlist PREVIOUS //

Buy me a ☕ Character Pairing:  Clint Barton x Natasha Romanoff x F!Reader

Word Count:  1687

Rating:  E

Warnings:  Pregnancy

Synopsis: A freak end of the world incident leads to meeting your two best friends, Clint Barton and Natasha Romanoff.  While your friendship with the two Avengers is anything but conventional, they are your all-time favorite people.  When you find out that Clint and Natasha want to start a family but have exhausted all their options, you realize your powerset might allow you to give them what they want.  Having your best friends’ baby might seem like a good idea on paper, but when you are as close as you, Clint, and Natasha are, will doing something so intimate mean feelings get a little mixed up?

Chapter 13

There was such a feeling of excitement and hope for you, Natasha, and Clint when you went in to do your glucose test and have your 18-week ultrasound.  The pregnancy had now lasted longer than the one that Natasha had lost which was a big milestone.  That had led to Natasha relaxing almost completely about the baby.  She didn’t seem to get panicked about losing them at all, and she had started making plans for how she was going to actually raise them.

Discussions were had about schooling and who would stay home when they were young.  If they should hire a nanny.  If they should move away from the compound.  She made guesses about whether it was a boy or a girl.  She was genuinely excited and that excitement was no longer tinged with a fear of loss.

There was talking about turning the room that had been yours into the nursery and having it painted with a mural.  You still had your apartment with most of your things, but for all intents and purposes, you lived with Natasha and Clint, sleeping in their bed every night.  The three of you had been clicking even better than you had expected.  The close friendship you had built with the side of casual sex had blended seamlessly into an actual honest-to-god relationship.  All those little things that had made you such good friends in the first place; the easy humor, the playful teasing, the protectiveness, and trust - they all deepened and strengthened what you were creating together.  Mornings were spent dragging each other up and out the door in a joint desire to just curl back into bed.  Nights were spent exactly how they had always been spent - grabbing dinner and hanging out.  There would usually be other people around.  Steve and Bucky would come to play cards.  Tony would invite the three of you up for dinner and there would be loud debates about the stupidest things while Morgan came and brought her favorite uncles and aunts things to look at.  Kate would come and just sit on the couch eating pizza while snarking at or with Clint.  The main difference now was there was more cuddling with each other and incidental touching, and at the end of the day, you’d all go to bed together.

As you all fell into that easy intimacy, you began to think more and more long term.  It was a little scary how easy it was to think of the baby as your baby, but you’d already stopped worrying about things not working and were deep into loving the fact that they were.

So while you sat playing cards and waiting for the sugar drink to do what it needed to do so you could be tested for a disease you couldn’t possibly have due to your powers, the three of you made bets on if the baby was a boy or a girl and debated the pros and cons of having a mural of every famous archer from fiction painted on the wall, you felt like this was it.  This was your family.  These were your people.  You were doing this together.

The drawing of your blood was always a complicated affair but you were more than used to it now.  Your body fought things trying to break the skin, so needles had to be held firmly and moved around to stop your body from either forcing the needle out or closing up around it.

When you were finally done the three of you went to the ultrasound appointment practically buzzing with excitement to see the fetus and find out what you were having.

The gel was cold and it made you flinch when Cynthia squeezed it on your stomach.  Natasha and Clint sat side by side next to you.  Both of them holding your hand.  Natasha’s fingers were linked with yours and Clint had his hand wrapped around them both.  They were both looking between you and the screen, waiting for the baby to come into view.  “How’s everything been going?  No more morning sickness?”

“Nope, haven’t had it for a while,” you said as she began to press the paddle down on your stomach hard enough to make your bladder ache slightly.  “I feel really good actually.  Lots of energy.”

“That’s great.  And the baby is kicking a lot?”  She asked.

“Oh yeah, all the time,” you said.  “Always grooving around in there.”

“Well, given who their parents are, that makes sense,” Cynthia joked. The baby came into view.  Because of Natasha’s fear that you would miscarry you’d watched it turn from the weird little peanut shape to something that looked like a human baby.  As they appeared on the screen now it looked just like a baby.  You could see it waving its arms around and the toes on its feet.  “Heartbeat is strong too.  You’re doing good, mama.”

“They’re all good?”  Natasha asked, her eyes fixed on the screen.

“Yes.  Looking fine.  The doctor will have to go over the scans but it’s looking good to me,” Cynthia said, as she took measurements.

“We can find out if it’s a boy or a girl today, can’t we?”  Clint asked.

Cynthia grinned.  “I was hoping you would ask that.”

She moved the paddle around, really pushing down hard against your stomach as she moved to the side.  “Well,” she said as she angled the paddle so the image looked like the fetus was sitting on it.  “It looks like this little one is a girl.”

“Really?  How can you tell?”  Clint said, a smile crossing his face.

“See here?”  Cynthia said pointing between the legs on the ultrasound image.  “Looks like a hamburger.”

Clint narrowed his eyes as his look and his brow furrowed.  Slowly his eyes started widening and he burst out laughing.  “Right!  Gotcha!”

Natasha leaned over and kissed your forehead.  “A little girl,” she whispered.

“Mm-hmm…” you hummed.  “You’ve got a daughter, mama.”

“A daughter…” Natasha repeated, so softly it was barely audible.

The three of you finished up with the tech and then saw Kelly your Obstetrician.  The pregnancy seemed to be going perfectly.  Perhaps it would have anyway, but you liked to think it was your powers doing what they needed to do.

“A girl,” Natasha said as the three of you left the office.

You took her hand and entwined your fingers with hers.  “We should have a baby shower.”

“We should,” Natasha agreed.  “Maybe Wanda or Kate might like to help organize it.”

“We need to think of girl’s names,” Clint said.  “Kate said if it was a girl we had to name it after her.”

Natasha laughed.  “And what did you say to that?”

“I thought it would be a boy,” Clint said.  “So I said I would.”

“Clint,” Natasha sighed.  “You are such a dumbass.”

“Yeah, but you love me,” Clint teased, throwing his arm around Natasha’s shoulders.

“God knows why, but I do,” she conceded.

“So I’m guessing Kate is on the list then?”  You asked, trying not to laugh.

“I guess so,” Natasha said, shaking her head.  “We should write a list.  I haven’t thought about names before.  Not since… Rose.”

“That was her name?” You asked.

She nodded and pursed her lips, trying not to show emotion again.  “Well, you can think of some now,” you said, gently squeezing her hand.

“We should write a list of all the things we still need to do.  We haven’t prepared at all,” Natasha said.

“Well, I say having the baby shower first.  Then we can see what we still need,” you said.

“That is a very good and intelligent point,” Natasha said.  “But on the other hand, tiny shoe shopping.”

You started laughing.  “I’m fairly certain we could get by with extra tiny shoes.”

“See,  you are smart,” she said and bumped you with her hip.  “And far be it for me to be all sappy and sentimental -” she leaned in close and nosed at your cheek.  “But I love that we’re doing it together now.  All of it.”

“That’s what she said,” Clint teased.

Natasha shook her head and elbowed him, trying very hard not to start laughing.  “Can you not ruin my moment?”

“I made it better,” Clint teased.  “But I do agree.  Feels good, right?”

You hummed and wrapped your arm around Natasha’s waist and slipped your hand into Clint’s back pocket.  “It does feel good.  A little scary though.  I was all ready to be an aunt.  Now I’m picking names and stuff.  But that’s what happens sometimes, right?”

“Hey, I was ready and I still find it scary,” Clint admitted.  “I’m going to be a dad? Me?  I drank coffee straight from the pot today and I’m going to be responsible for keeping an infant alive.”

“Well,” you said as you reached the apartment.  “There are three of us.  So it’s not just you.”

“Good thing too,” Clint joked, opening the door and letting you all in.  “I can’t be trusted with things like that.  I can barely keep myself alive.”

You went and sat down on the recliner, popping the bottom up so you could have your feet up.  Clint looked from you to Natasha and raised his eyebrows.  She nodded and Clint moved to your chair, kneeling beside it and looking up at you.  “In fact,” he said.  “I think it would be good if you properly moved in, don’t you?  I mean, bring all your stuff in.”

You looked at him and then over to Natasha, a little shocked.  It had only been a few weeks since you had agreed to try the relationship thing and this felt like a big jump.  Then again, you had been living in their apartment for months and friends for years now.  Not to mention if it didn’t work out, it wasn’t like it was impossible to get your apartment back.  You lived at the compound, there were always apartments available.

You took a deep breath and let it out, a smile slowly spreading on your face.  “Yeah, why not?  Let’s do it.”

// NEXT

[kinkykinard]

Our Branch of the Family Tree - 6

Fandom: 9-1-1. Word Count: 1577. Genre: gen, humor. Rating: teen+. Summary: Maddie gets an eyeful when she unlocks Buck’s phone, but Buck’s too excited about his fledgling relationship with Eddie to care too much. Note: for @thebuckleysiblingsweek 2021.  AO3 link here.  Beta’d by the lovely @fireladybuckley​!  

           “You’re early.”

           Maddie smiled as she stepped past Buck in the doorway to his apartment, a bottle of wine in one hand and several board games balanced precariously on the other.  He closed the door behind her and followed her into the kitchen, taking the boxes from her before she dropped them.

           “Traffic was lighter than I expected,” Maddie offered by way of explanation.  “And I didn’t really want to be alone for too long after the day I had at work.”

           Buck frowned, reaching for a wine glass in the cupboard over the sink and setting it down on the counter.  Maddie had already located his corkscrew and was halfway to opening the wine bottle by the time he propped himself against the counter to watch her.

           “Do you want to talk about it?”

           Maddie shook her head, pouring a generous helping of wine into the glass and taking a long sip.

           “It’s nothing, honestly.  I’ll forget all about it soon enough, I’m sure.”

           Buck looked like he might push further, but he knew Maddie well enough to know that she wasn’t going to say anything else and so he dropped it.  

           “Well if you’re okay to keep yourself amused for a bit, I’m going to go get changed before the others get here.”

           Maddie nodded, tipping her glass in his direction as she moved toward the table to look through the stack of games.  Buck watched her for a minute before pushing himself away from the counter and heading for the stairs up to his loft.  Eddie and Chim were due to join them in the next twenty minutes or so and he didn’t want to still be in his loungewear when they arrived.

           As Buck disappeared, Maddie perused the board games.  Buck had set out a deck of cards, too, as well as a couple more games that he usually kept at his place between game nights.  She took another sip of wine and felt her head swim a little.  The fuzziness reminded her that it’d been hours since she’d last eaten and she was starving.

           “What did you order for dinner?”  She called up the stairs.

           Buck peeked around the corner.

           “I haven’t ordered yet, but I figured pizza’s probably the easiest if we’re playing games,” he replied.  “My phone’s on the counter, you can put in an order if you want.”

           Maddie hummed in acknowledgment.

           “Are you in the mood for any kind of pizza in particular?”

           “No olives, no anchovies!”  Buck called from somewhere in the vicinity of his closet.

           Maddie smiled at how predictable his answers were and she set her glass down, pushing away from the table and heading over to the counter near the sink to grab Buck’s phone.  Punching in his pass code, she gasped as the screen unlocked to show a nude photo.  She fumbled the phone, concerned that it might’ve been a picture Buck had taken of himself, but the man in the picture - though she couldn’t see his face - didn’t look anything like Buck.  His frame was different, and while she liked what she saw, she had to wonder why Buck had racy pictures of another man open on his phone.  She’d known for a long time that he was bisexual, but he didn’t seem the type to keep pornography on his phone.  Though, she thought, it would explain why he seemed a bit spooked to see her when she’d shown up early.  She grimaced, feeling a little bad for potentially having interrupted him in the middle of… something.

           Shrugging, Maddie went to close the photo app.  Instead of hitting the home button, however, her thumb clumsily swiped over the screen flipping back a picture or two.  It was a picture of Eddie, smiling, biting his lip, shirtless.  It was cute, but a sudden realization hit her like a ton of bricks and this time, Maddie dropped the phone in earnest.

           “Is everything okay?”

           Maddie jumped as Buck’s voice startled her from just a couple of feet away.  She spun around and nodded, trying to plaster a nonchalant grin onto her face and failing miserably.  Buck frowned as he noticed her discomposure and moved closer to her.  She could feel the heat burning in her cheeks.

           “Did you order?”  Buck asked.

           Maddie shook her head.  

           “I-I was just going to use my phone, instead,” she said hurriedly.  “You ordered last time, so it should be my turn.”

           Buck chuckled, reaching around her for his phone.

           “Chim ordered last time,” he reasoned.  “Which brings it back to me.”

           Buck thumbed the home button, watching his screen flicker to life as the phone unlocked.  It took less than half a second for him to realize why Maddie was suddenly acting so strangely.  Feeling like he’d been punched in the gut, he hurriedly closed his phone again, his cheek twitching as he averted his gaze.

           “Oh shit, you weren’t supposed to see that,” he murmured, his face turning pink.  “I can explain.”

           Maddie shook her head, dispeling enough of her surprise to get her head back in the game.  She reached out to gently touch Buck’s arm, smiling softly.

           “You don’t have to explain anything,” she assured him.

           Buck fidgeted, running a hand over the back of his head as he smiled wryly.

           “Is it weird that I kind of want to, though?”

           Maddie wasn’t sure how to answer him, but he seemed encouraged by her silence as he continued on.

           “It’s all brand new,” he said in a rush.  “I mean, not the being into other guys, but the thing with Eddie.  I don’t even know if we’d call it official yet.  We’re just having fun.”

           “I think it’s more than that,” Maddie said softly.  “And I think you’ve known that for a long time.”

           Buck shrugged, finally turning to look at Maddie.  Though he stood nearly a foot taller, he looked small and vulnerable as he gazed at her from underneath his downy eyelashes.  Unable to find the right words of reassurance for him, Maddie stepped into his space instead, wrapping her arms around him.

           “You seem happy,” she offered.

           Buck nodded, returning the embrace, holding onto her for a moment before letting go to step back.

           “I think I am.”

           Maddie laughed and playfully swatted him on the shoulder.

           “I don’t blame you,” she teased.  “That’s a beautiful man you’ve got there.”

           Buck’s blush darkened at her words and he made a small, choked noise.  

           “Please don’t tell Eddie you saw those,” Buck said awkwardly.  “But yeah, I do, don’t I?”

           Maddie chuckled, giving Buck a teasing wink as he opened his phone again, minimizing the photo app as he pulled up a delivery app instead.  Punching in the order for pizza, Buck slipped his phone into his pocket just in time to hear a knock on the door.  Maddie beat him to answering and a loud chorus of hellos erupted as Chim and Eddie walked in, carrying beer and snacks.  

           Buck hung back by the table as the three of them exchanged greetings, smiling at Eddie as Maddie gave the other man a quick hug before descending on Chim instead.  Buck watched Eddie walk over, taking the two six packs of beer from his hands and stowing them in the fridge, grabbing a bottle for each of them.

           “So you told her, then?”  Eddie asked quietly.

           Buck froze halfway out of the fridge, rising slowly and glancing over at Eddie, chewing his lip.

           “What makes you say that?”

           Eddie nudged the fridge door closed as Buck set the bottles on the counter and reached for the bottle opener.

           “I grew up in a house full of women, I can tell when something’s up,” Eddie said with a shrug.

           Buck’s heart clenched anxiously at Eddie’s realization.  He was worried Eddie would be upset, but the other man’s neutral expression, while not reassuring, was also not too worrisome.  Buck nodded.

           “It just kind of came out,” Buck explained.  “I didn’t mean for it to, it just sort of… happened.”

           Eddie chuckled softly, reaching to take the bottle opener from Buck’s nervous hands.  He made quick work of uncapping the beers, setting the opener aside and picking up a bottle.  He took a quick sip, flashing Buck a smile.

           “It’s okay, Buck,” Eddie assured him.  “I don’t care that you told her.”

           Buck grimaced a little.

           “Even if we’re not official yet?”

           Eddie frowned, setting his beer back down on the counter.  He could practically feel the anxiety rolling off Buck in waves.  Closing the distance between them, Eddie reached up to take Buck’s face in his hands.  Buck barely had time to close his eyes before Eddie’s lips were on his and Eddie smiled into the kiss as Buck sucked in a breath.

           Buck practically melted into Eddie after a moment of stiffness.  Soft, pliant, and oh so responsive.  Eddie slipped one hand down to Buck’s hip, stilling him, holding him in place as the world spun around them.  He could feel Buck’s heartbeat against his ribs where the two of them were pressed together, and he slowly pulled away to give Buck a chance to catch his breath.  Opening his eyes, Eddie found Buck looking at him, too.

           “Is that official enough for you?”  Eddie asked.

           Buck barked out a laugh, nodding.  

           If either of them noticed the shocked expression on Chim’s face or Maddie’s delighted giggling, they didn’t say a word.