#wait fuck me its been OVER ten years since the last book came out

[ploncc]

Me as a gay little tweeny bopper: Oh, Murtagh is so dreamy and tragic~

me now: the urgals would treat me right. someone let me in to the fucked up little mountain range i want to get railed

[urf1lterr]

lovesick | pedro pascal [4]

"and on this night and in this light i think im falling, im falling for you."

previous chapter: [3] series masterlist

summary: in which a 1975-obsessed film student accidentally falls in love with an older man she can't have.

pairing: actor!pedro x intern!reader

genre: acting world!au, big age-gap!, strangers to friends- maybe lovers?? au | angst, mature, awkward, love- eventually

word count: 10.6k

status: in progress

author's note: so sorry for the long wait! but i tried making this chapter longggg. i typically have my days off altogether and the rest of the week booked with work/school. i try to post many chapters within my short timeframe (bc im booked af) so pls expect another update soon after this one! sadly, it takes me around 8-10 hours to write one bc its hard to think lol. also, i don't want this to be too long of a series and kinda wanna connect the dots- slowly but surely, ya know? not edited.

"So, he just came knocking on your door at 6am?" Joon questioned, taking a sip of his smoothie soon afterwards. "I can't even wake up that early."

"We had to do that everyday for our last job."

"I woke up ten minutes before I had to be out the door," he shrugged. "Men get ready fast."

"Anyway," you eyed him as he cluelessly did the same, confused as to why you wouldn't look away. "I don't remember him coming."

"Yeah, because you fucking freaked out and hallucinated over Lady Gaga," Jules exclaimed, you automatically cringing just at the horrible memories you've recently faced with that damn cat.

Once she explained what had happened hours after you had woken up, you were disturbingly shocked.

And the fact that your sleepiness was to blame had you going insane- imagine all the other odd things you may had committed while under the covers.

But you will admit you did remember some of that night's events clearly, again like you practically making out with Lady Gaga- although she was the one who licked your face endlessly first.

Mortified just by the thoughts, you will never be able to face Pedro again sanely.

How could you when you recently dreamed about a man 25 years older being intimate with you- that's...confusing. And the worst part of it all was you couldn't say anything to anyone with the fear of being judged or laughed at- maybe both.

The thing was you couldn't quite understand why you had to dream about that. Maybe your time of the month was coming and your hormones targeted the first guy you had nonstop contact with?

No, that would've been Joon.

Attraction may had played a part but Joon definitely had that, Pedro as well but a little different...age-wise at least. There's no way you felt allured for men with bad jokes and rough skin- no offense. Right?

He did text you that same morning he dropped by and commented on how creepy you are half asleep and whether or not you agreed to his 'business' proposal. Not trying to start a conversation you knew you couldn't finish, out of second-hand shame, you just replied a simple:

LOL but busy with school atm to make a final decision- tell ya later

That later still hasn't arrived.

Unfortunately, you forgot to ask him why he made a random visit that morning- but you weren't going to ask him days later. In your mind, you need to avoid him. There's no way you'd be able to act normal after have unholy fascinations about him.

Not that it'll be a problem, you two hadn't seen each other for weeks before your cafe encounter, you're sure you can do it again without him noticing your distance.

It's been about two days since then which meant you didn't have to prioritize so much of your time on homework, you'll just save that for Sunday when it's all due.

"Did you bother to ask him why?" Jules added, turning to you. "He obviously wasn't coming to see me- I barely know the guy."

"You do know him!" you argue as she rolls her eyes. "You literally got mad at me for not recognizing him the first time we met."

"He's a celebrity- everybody knows him," she defends before tilting her head in curiosity. "But you two are oddly close, it's kind of weird."

"No," you shake your head, trying to laugh off her suspicions. "We are casual friends who fan girl over the same things."

People did take notice how close Pedro and you were but it wasn't anybody's fault you two had so much in common. Both of you loved Starbucks, going on hikes- when you weren't lazy, and believe Matt Healy is extremely attractive.

If they have a problem with that they can sue you.

"I see it," Joon adds, jumping up a bit. "Him and I barely talk and we're men- we should be bonding easily!"

"You're...you," Jules cringes, making Joon glare in return. "I can understand why he chooses not to be close to you."

Laughing, you watch as Joon quickly flips her the finger before he continues on with the conversation. "I just feel like he always comes around only to see you, it was pretty obvious since the first time he took us home."

Furrowing your eyebrows, you didn't understand what he meant by that. Pedro offered all three of you a ride home, not just you.

Already feeling done with this topic, you wanted to switch it before things started escalating and freaky theories started unfolding. They had every right to question your friendship, but you were starting to think they might be leading down a road where they may soon develop other impressions as to what your friendship might have been.

Why are you even thinking that? That's so inappropriate to imagine.

"You two are silly, he probably needed my advice on something or wanted to workout," you suggest, their faces showing they weren't fully convinced. "But anywho, did you call Yoongi yet?"

"I don't think that's a great idea," Joon declared, adjusting in your warm sofa. "He's not really a skating kind of guy."

Since it was Friday and you had no plans, you thought it would be a fun idea to be adventurous for once and do something you would never do on a regular basis.

Ice Skate.

Your friends were extremely down with the idea, but you needed a fourth person to make the group complete. Why not a skinny, impatient blonde man who would probably spend the whole night complaining about why this plan was awful?

Right now you could use some other grumpiness in your life.

"Just tell him to go," you beam back, clapping your hands in excitement as you'll soon be able to fall countless of times on the ice. "I'll buy him hot cocoa."

"You better do it or he'll never let that go," Joon states.

After hours of sitting around and blasting random music through your speakers, the three of you were ready to set off on your journey of locating the ice rink.

If it wasn't for Joon's constant whining to stop walking to take pictures of the scenery you probably would've arrived 15 minutes sooner than your actual arrival, but too bad your friend is a nature freak.

"You taking pictures of the pigeons better not be the reason why you're late," you heard Yoongi grumble as the three of you finally found him sitting on a bench near the entrance of the rink, staring directly at Joon who just scoffed.

"I'm sorry if my happiness bothers you," Joon snapped back as Yoongi just stood up from his seat and made his way to your trio.

Grabbing your ice skates wasn't too difficult as the long line seemed to flow by smoothly, but standing on them was a different story.

"I can't do this," you squeal as your hurriedly motion your arms around to find some balance. "I'm falling!"

Yoongi sent you a questionable look as he watched your poor attempts to stay still embarrassing. "We're not even on the ice yet."

Feeling a hand grab a hold on your shoulders and practically drag your feet towards the ice, you glance up to see Jules steadily directing you to face your fears.

Maybe this wasn't such a good idea.

"Are you going to push her in?!" you hear Joon gasp a few feet behind you but you couldn't turn your head as you rather focused your attention on yanking yourself off of Jules.

"It was her idea so she'll be the one going in first."

"Ahh!" you screech, putting all your pressure on your feet to stop her hard pull. Spiraling your ankles in the most crucial ways, you start to lightly slap her arms off you as she continues to fight them off.

One thing about her was she's going to make sure to remind you that this was your idea.

Feeling an arm gently tug you off her grip, you landed on Yoongi's side as Jules whined in return, offended that he ruined her vicious plan. Respectfully, he kept you stable with an arm wrapped behind your middle back as you gripped his other one, fearful she might snatch you away again.

"Why would you do that?!"

"I don't think watching her fall face first on the hard ice would be a fun sight to see," he bluntly returned as Jules huffed. "The sight of blood gives me the ick."

"I was waiting for that moment all afternoon," Jules sighed, disappointed that she wouldn't be seeing you fall- yet.

Waiting for her to walk away to go on the ice, you see Joon follow her before you released your friend, relieved that she wouldn't be partaking in her scandalous scheme just yet.

"You do know how to skate, right?" Yoongi asked, his uncertain eyes on yours as you crazily wave your arms in front of him to rub off his questionable thoughts.

"Do I? Of course I do!" you argue, making your way towards the ice until you were two feet away from it. Putting your feet on the edge, you hesitate as you could feel the cold breeze wrap around you legs. "I'm gonna go now."

"Yippy," he states, waiting at your poor attempts to convince him.

Giving him a thumbs up, you clap your hands together to try to reassure yourself that you could do this, forgetting that he was right behind you secretly laughing.

Taking one final breath, you placed your right foot on top of the ice steadily, trying your best not to make any harsh movements, until you felt a hard jerk on your upper body, making you lose yourself in an instant.

"God, if you don't know how to skate why would you suggest it?" Yoongi grumbled, gliding both your bodies along the ice as he held tightly onto your arms. You were practically skating like a wet dog in front of him, begging with your eyes for him not to abandon you.

"I always wanted to try."

Sending you an annoyed look, you zipped your mouth as his arms were now securing you, closing any gaps there may have been and giving you the ride of your life.

Shutting your eyes harshly, you didn't dare to witness the environment around as you felt the icy wind slap your face the faster you two- or at least by Yoongi's swaying, got.

There were times where he did pretend to lose his balance, causing you to cry in horror and him immediately placing his hand over your mouth by how loud you weaped.

But other than that, you came to enjoy his help as your two other friends rudely abandoned you guys in order to practice their poor attempts of leaping across the rink.

"Okay," Yoongi started, releasing his left hand from your side and keeping you close with only his other. "Now you try on your own."

Fear creeping up in your face, you rapidly shake your head in disagreement and try catching his recent abandoned arm, which he denied. "I can't."

"Can't or won't?" he countered back making you silent.

He did have a point.

"C'mon, it's not that hard. If Joon could do it, you can."

"He's literally on the ground right now," you whine as Yoongi quickly averts his eyes in search of your tall friend, soon finding Joon clutching his knee in pain as Jules records on her phone.

"No."

Sighing, he continues to look around, trying to plan out an idea that would at least convince you to slide a few feet alone without his help until he smirked and met your eyes.

"What would Matt Healy do?"

Widening your eyes, you were taken back by his question.

Only Pedro used that line on you.

And for some reason it felt odd when Yoongi did the same. You shouldn't be bothered by his choice of words...but you were a little.

He wasn't him to be saying it.

"He wouldn't force me to do something I didn't want to do," you reply back, causing him to groan.

"I feel like you just want to be in my arms," he retorted with a grin, immediately making you revolt and fly out of his arms, your bottom hitting the ice hard. "Well that's one way to make you skate."

Feeling immediate pain on the back of your thighs, you just knew you were going to be bruised and swollen the next day. But hey, this technically counts for your workout for the week.

Awkwardly swaying your body around, you couldn't get up off the damn ice. You were sure you looked like a fish out of water by how crazy you were moving.

"Get on your knees," Yoongi commented, causing you to send him a death glare as he lifted his hands up in defense. "It helps you stand."

Or he could just grab your arms and help you himself.

Cautiously following his suggestion, you slowly pull your right leg up and place it firmly on the ice before slowly trying to do so with your left one. As you began to feel satisfied with the weight being supported, you felt your body finally working and lifting up off the ground before he poked your shoulder- making you fall again.

"I'm going to murder you!" you threaten as you stare at him on your back, whole body restlessly laying on the ground in misery as he cackles loudly.

He may have advantage on the ice, but oh man- once you regain your balance off it you were going to end that slender man's life.

"Isn't this just a sight to see," you heard someone exclaim before hands grab your arms and soon lift you back on your feet.

Moving your eyes to the ones in front of you, you burst out in smiles. "Bella! Nico!"

"I take this as my queue to leave,'" you hear Yoongi mumbles but you swiftly grab his arm from his close proximity and halt his plans.

He was not going to desert you now.

"What are you girls doing here?"

Not seeing them for a few weeks didn't make things awkward, but different. It was like catching up with old friends, even though you barely met them less than three months ago.

"Had nothing to do tonight so why not ice skate?" Nico giggled.

Bella examined you up and down before pointing at your head. "My god, your hair grew so long. Has it really been that long?"

Rolling your eyes, you were about to answer her before Yoongi cut in. "No, it's her fake extenstions."

Gasping, you turn your body to him and smack his shoulder as he smacks you back. One thing about him, he's all about equality. You touch him, he touches you- simple.

You don't see the way Nico and Bella exchange smirks to one another before Nico slides in front of you and pulls out her phone. "We should take a selfie! You know, for memories."

Laughing, you agree. You took some pictures with them but never really out of the work environment.

Uncomfortably standing still, Yoongi hastily moves to the side a bit, not wanting to intrude this moment you were having with your friends. He was a pretty sociable person, but only if they had things in common and he fairly knew them.

Yoongi didn't know these two young girls and he sure as hell didn't want to be the one being kicked out of this picture- so why not kick himself out first?

"Where are you going, we need your long arm to get us all in the frame!" Bella exclaimed, motioning Yoongi to move back as he sent her a flustered glance.

"I can just take it with the three of you."

"Nonsense!" Nico argued back, shaking her head as you giggled. "We don't leave people out."

Biting his bottom lip a bit, he scratches the back of his neck swiftly before increasing the speed of his skates to the girl, accepting her phone. "I suppose."

Fixing your posture, you stand behind your friend as he carefully raises his right arm up in the air, positioning the phone that was able to capture all four of you in the frame.

Pulling out the gummiest smile, you bursted out a gigantic grin after seeing the rare radiant expression Yoongi was giving. He was never one to show much emotion so finding him giving in for a picture amused you.

Taking the phone out of his hands, Bella examined the screen before chuckling. "Wow, you've got one adorable smile."

You could've sworn you saw Yoongi blush as he lowered his head while shaking off her compliment, trying to act natural but he wasn't fooling anyone.

He was shy.

Gasping at the sight in front of her, Nico pointed at the concession cart near one of the exits of the ice. "They have hot cocoa! We must get some."

Faking a groan, Bella allowed her friend to drag her away but not before sending you a pout to follow, which you were happy to do. You were freezing to death without even realizing it until you stopped your attempts to skate for the picture.

"I was promised a free cup," Yoongi stated as he was gliding behind you, softly pushing your back as you proceeded to do nothing but allow him to direct you to where your desired hot cocoa was.

Scoffing a little, you shush him as you reached the exit ramp. Jumping off, the two of you slowly waddled to Bella and Nico who were next in line.

"Wait," you start, pausing your footsteps which resulted in him almost falling after slamming to your side. "Shouldn't we ask Joon and Jules if they want one?"

Peeking over your shoulder, Yoongi looks back down to you. "Nah, don't wanna ruin their fun."

Following his recent glance, you could see Joon and Jules in front of one another, both holding hands as they try to catch a faster pace while twirling in big circles.

You were sure they were eventually going to knock a small child over soon.

"Next," you hear the worker call out, sitting behind his register waiting for your arrival.

Quickly walking up, you place your order as nothing else but the hot drinks seemed to interest you. The total came out to be the cost as what four drinks at your local cafe would be, but you shouldn't be surprised since this place was pretty popular to the public.

Pulling out his wallet so fast, you didn't have to process what Yoongi was doing until you caught the view of his credit card as he handed it over to the man in front of you.

"No-" you try intercepting what had just happened by giving your card to the worker who just shrugged as he had already paid for the drinks on Yoongi's card. "Why would you do that?"

"You're too slow," Yoongi bluntly said as he grabbed the two drinks and moved to the side so the next person in line could place their order.

"But it hadn't even been three seconds since he said the total before you handed him the card," you protest.

He handed you your cup, hoping it'll shut you up as he took a small sip from his own. "And?"

Is he being serious? "'And,'" you question as he continued to be unaware as to what you were getting at. "Since the beginning I vowed to buy you hot cocoa."

Yoongi laughed at how stubborn you were becoming. "Vowed? What a great word choice for this scenario, fiance."

Rolling your eyes at his teasing, you hated the fact he was avoiding your question. You knew he did it because he wanted to be a gentleman, but the problem was he didn't want to admit he was one.

Again, he was being shy.

"I see you are kind," you smirk as he gave you a disgusted glance. "Don't worry, I won't tell people you have a heart."

Before he could leave a snarky comeback, Nico and Bella came back in giggles as Yoongi retreated back to his natural state of looking lifeless. "Oh my gosh- we went to get napkins and I kid you not I may have poured my drink on the back of this poor little girl."

Lightly gasping, you widen your eyes as Yoongi confusingly replies back. "May have? You don't know if you did or not?"

Bella makes an accountable face, scrunching her nose in the process. "Okay, I did. But she's the one who ran into me!"

"Well, she was really small and you kind of didn't search your surroundings before kneeing her," Nico exposed, causing Yoongi and you to give each other a concerned look.

"You kneed her?!"

"Only in her side," Bella excused herself, sending Nico a betrayed look. "It wasn't like it was her stomach."

"It practically was...," Nico mumbled but became silent when her co-star eyed her hard.

Coughing uncomfortably, Yoongi caught everyone's attention as he tried to avert the conversation into something that wasn't as horrific as striking a child with hot cocoa and a knee. "We should probably hit the ice again soon before Jules and Joon find out we got these drinks without them."

"Jules is here?!" Bella beamed, searching around for her through the large gatherings of people on the ice. "I missed that crazy lady, she was the only one who would get my coffee order right."

"She told me she would threaten to get the baristas fired if they kept getting it wrong," Nico recalled, chewing her mouth a little. "That's why I stopped letting her take my orders."

Sighing, you looked up in the ceiling in disapproval as you could feel Yoongi laughing his ass off beside you. That was very Jules of her to do.

After another two hours of trying to figure out how to skate, and basically latching onto Yoongi the whole time as Bella and Nico were doing laps around you guys, you finally made it home.

To say you were exhausted would be an understatement- you were drained.

No, seriously. You hadn't worked out this much since Jules and you almost missed the subway two months ago and had to run three blocks to catch it on time.

That day was dreadful, but you were sure if you went to bed you were going to wake up lifeless like a worm.

"I call the shower first!" you hear Jules scream, running to her room in order to grab her belongings but you were faster and instantly made your way to the bathroom, locking the door before she could break in. "You bitch! How dare you steal it with my back turned!"

Grinning evilly to yourself, you wanted to get your night routines over with so you could hit the pillows quickly. Even after taking off all your makeup, taking a very steamy shower, and doing your nightly skin care routine, you were sure you could easily knock out sitting on the toilet if you had the chance.

We all have done it once in our lives.

Opening the door, the steam flows out smoothly as you face your very displeased roommate on the other side, glaring at you. "All yours," you smile, stepping to the side but she roughly pushes you in response, causing you to yelp as you manage to catch your balance midway.

Mental note, burn her eggs next breakfast.

Stepping into your room, you change into an oversized hoodie and sweats before throwing yourself under your covers in excitement.

The moment you've been waiting for all day: sleep.

Closing your eyes, you feel all your senses slowly drifting away from your body as relaxation crept up from all around. It was truly intoxicating how in trance you were.

But of course with your luck, nothing goes as planned- ever.

Wildly jumping up from the loud blaring of your phone, you cover your face in agony as the vibrations and noise cause pain throughout your entire body.

Who the hell was calling you at 10 o'clock at night? This should be illegal.

After taking a minute to control yourself, the ringing stopped. Good, now you won't have to make time to engage in a conversation. Quickly falling back down onto your pillows, it wasn't even ten seconds later before you feel your phone going off like crazy again.

With you eyes shut, you move your hands around your bed until you feel the cool object underneath your pillow. Lazily pressing any button, without batting one eye open, you move the phone to your ear before releasing a groggy, "What?"

"What a lovely way to greet somebody, kiddo."

You instantly freeze, automatically thinking about the vivid dream you had about him, then Lady Gaga, and felt a blush creeping in.

Slowly pulling the phone away, you let out a loud but fast scream before moving it back. How the hell are you going to begin a conversation without thinking about his lips on yours. "What do you want?"

Pausing for a second, you can hear him move around through his end. "Did you just scream?"

It's not like you didn't just dream about him kissing all over your body two nights ago.

"Did you just wake me up to ask me the obvious answer?"

Act like you don't care. Like you are perfectly fine.

He chuckles lightly and you can tell by his tone he was close to passing out too. "Somebody's cranky, is it past your bedtime?" Pedro teased.

You were definitely not in the mood to handle his ridicules at this hour, especially by how nervous he was slowly making you. What did he want?

"Yes," you simply reply before hitting the red button, ending the call and laying your head back on your pillow. Good, just end it before you make a bigger fool out of yourself.

It hadn't even been another ten seconds before your phone was ringing once again. Pulling it up to your face, you let out a huff. What a shocker, it was him again.

"You better have an insanely good reason as to why you chose to wake me up in the middle of my dream," you immediately say as you press the 'accept' button.

Hearing him laugh, you just know he has a sarcastic comment coming any second. "Wake you up? Honey, you're still living your dream talking to me."

Honey.

No, not another nickname for him to call you in future dreams.

Shaking that thought away, you rejected the idea of him being in any more dreams- you forbid it.

Loss at words for a second, you almost let your next words trip over one another before calmly gaining your composure at the incidental choice of your pet name.

"So funny," you reply back, trying your best to sound sane. "Pretty sure I was dreaming of a very shirtless Matt Healy playing 'Please Be Naked' to me."

Why the fuck would you slip that out.

"Are you trying to hint at something?" he smirks, making you press mute and hold your hand over your mouth to hold back the screams you feared would release.

Feeling like your soul was about to leave your body, you couldn't believe he just said that.

Actually, you couldn't believe you would even recommend that song. God, your sleepiness was messing with your mind.

Finding your energy once again, you unmute the call and try to seem unfazed by his last comment. "Yes, that I want to sleep. Goodbye now."

Before you could hit the red button again, you could hear him chanting over the phone to do the exact opposite. "Don't!"

Groaning, you clutch the phone harder in despair. "I am so tired. Don't do this to me, please. I am a girl who values her sleep!" you whine as you hear him continue his light giggles in the background. "If I don't sleep I will die, is this what you want. Are you trying to kill me?"

"I can reassure you I don't plan on keeping you up long," he explains. "And I wouldn't dare wish for your death."

Your heart fluttering, you glare at your chest. "Then what do you want?"

Moving his phone from one ear to the other, he lays in his bed while smiling at his ceiling. "You," he declares, making you widen your eyes as he shuffles around in his blanket. "Tomorrow, let's hang out."

Sitting up against your bed frame, you furrow your brow. "Hang out? For what?" There's no way you will be able to act normal for a long period of time, your weak-self can't do it.

Placing a hand over his chest, he lets out a light hiss in fake hurt by your comeback before continuing. "Can't I hang out with you by choice and not by a work schedule? Unless you're so disgusted by me." That's when he started his fake cries. "I'm so sorry I am not Matt Healy and can't do a great British accent."

Shaking your head, you try to intervene as his ugly cries become louder through the line. "That's not what I meant, stop being dramatic," you complain as he instantly stops while smiling widely. "Is there a specific reason why you want to hang out?"

Taking a deep breath, he fiddles with the fingers on his non-occupied hand. "Does there need to be a reason?"

You pause for a second. He's acting too kind for your liking and it's making you question what his intentions are. In this point of time, you're sure he's going to take that moment to convince you to work with him in Canada.

"With you there's always a reason."

Scoffing lightly, he grumbles. "I just want to go on a hike and need a hiking partner."

Oh hell no, you already did enough working out this evening. You were not about to do that again, that's for sure.

"Yeah, nooo," you exhale lowly. "I already did too much working out with my body if you know what I mean and-"

"I don't know what that means," he cuts you off.

"It means I am going to be sore for days so my body has no strength to walk for more than five minutes," you declare as he falls silent.

After a few seconds that felt like forever, he replies. "Fine," he blankly states. "Have a goodnight, sweetheart."

The warmth as blood began drawing to your face became present as you quickly reply with a simple "night" before ending the call. And for some reason you felt as if you couldn't breathe normally by the pounding on your chest.

What the hell was happening to you. Looking up at the ceiling, you silently pray you don't have a Lady Gaga 2.0 fiasco.

As you were questioning why your heart made you feel as if you were going under cardiac arrest the night before, your body was currently making you feel if you really needed to make that trip to the ER by how tender you were.

It also didn't help that Jules was the one waking you up at the crack of dawn, half asleep with her eye mask clinging onto her forehead.

"W-why are you-" you grumble, rubbing your eyes as you look at the alarm clock near your bedside. "-waking me up at 6:18am? It's Saturday."

She sent you a death glare for assuming she randomly wanted to wake you up for the fun of it as she was the one who was woken up first. "Someone's here for you."

Positioning your body upwards, you squint your eyes up at her. "What are you talking about?"

"Why don't you take a look for yourself," she gritted her teeth, swaying her head towards your door.

Slowly standing up, you make your way to it before sneaking a peak of the view of your living room. That's when you see a very annoying man you were sure you both agreed on the phone last night to not go hiking.

Luckily, he didn't notice your wandering eyes as his were glued to his phone, scrolling through his social media.

What was he doing here? You can't face him without thinking about his body wrapped around yours and his lips doing dangerous things.

Oh no, you truly were screwed.

Lightly shutting your door, you nervously turn back to your roommate who looks displeased. "I told him no."

"No means yes, I guess," she replies, snaking her arms around her body for warmth. "I'm going back to bed."

You could hear her walk out of your room as you frantically begin searching for something warm yet comfortable clothes to wear on this undesired hike. You knew if you tried backing out he would stay until you caved, he was very persistent to get what he wanted.

And what he wanted was for you to get your ass up and exercise.

You were also certain you heard Jules let out a "thanks for the invite" to him before hearing her bedroom door shut.

Running out of your room, you made sure not to look in his direction so he wouldn't see your morning appearance clearly- well he already has but why reveal yourself in this state again?

Quickly brushing your hair, teeth, and washing your face, you change into a baggy green sweatshirt and some black workout leggings before slipping on suited running shoes.

Try to act natural. Give him little attention so he won't speculate anything. You aren't into old men and did not vision him smooching you on your sofa.

"You are so buying me breakfast," you deadpan as you walked straight out of your door, not even daring to wait for him to follow.

Good, be straightforward.

Laughing to himself, Pedro promptly jumped off the couch and jogged after you once you shut the door on him and continued down the halls to the elevators.

Finally catching up, he barely made it through the elevator doors as they were closing to find you leaning against the corner, mad and tired. "Good morning to you, too."

You let out a small cry as you lay your head against the wall in pain from how frustratingly exhausted you were. If one cold breeze hit you outside you were sure you were going to burst into tears.

"Oh, come one," he walks over to you and nudged your shoulder to wake up some more. If he unexpectedly touched you again you were sure you were going to rip his arm off. "In a few minutes you'll be wide awake and fine."

"How dare you assume I'm going to be fine!" you whine, trying to hit his side but he manages to capture your arm and that's when you give up and allow your worn out body to fall on him.

He instantly wraps his arms around you as your head falls just beneath his chin, your eyes slowly closing and your thoughts drifting away as his warmth was making you drowsy.

You tried to stay focus, but your poor state was taking over and you suddenly weren't as anxious as you once were. Being sleepy really made your mind roam.

"Hey, now," he whispers and looks down to see you snuggling up against him. "You can't fall asleep on me. I do not want your security guards thinking I drugged you."

Tightening your arms on how lower sides, you ignore him as you feel yourself easing closer to dozing off by the constant beating of his heart. "Stop," you mumble, clutching your ears softly before positioning your head on the other side of his chest.

"What?" he curiously glances down at you.

"You heartbeat's annoying me," you lightly whine. "It's pounding against my ears."

Pedro was extremely glad you were too tired to process his heartbeat and the bright red tint plastered across his face. Your drained-self definitely saved him from embarrassment.

Finally, the elevator doors opened and you still weren't moving. You were too comfortable to make any effort to walk on your own and if he really wanted you to hang out this morning then he was going to have to find a way to make you move.

And to him, dragging you was his best option yet. But with care.

Delicately keeping his arms secured around you, he gradually walked out with you still engulfed by him, eyes shut and only moving your feet with his pace.

Honestly, you were surprised how much rhythm you had.

Stopping to pull out his car keys, he unlocked his car and opened his passenger side door once you two reached the garage complex. Gently, laying you on the seat, you station you head against the headrest as he buckled you in. "God, I really hope security doesn't report me."

And once he made it to his side and hopped in, he laughed at the state you were in, head instantly bent to your side and legs tangled together in hope to create some kind of warmth. "Adorable."

But of course you were too dumb to not catch that.

You were awoken by a small speed bump and the instant hit of warmth through the heat vents, your eyes slowly glancing around your surroundings. Taking a quick peep at the screen indicating the time, you read that it was almost 7am.

Tilting your head and leaning against the headrest, you lazily stare at Pedro as he continues to drive to god knows where.

"Don't I look so handsome in the morning?" he jokes before meeting your eyes, sending you a warm grin.

And handsome on top of you.

Shutting your eyes tightly, you beg your imagination to please shut the fuck up.

"You mean drastic," you mutter, moving your head to the opposite side, against the window to force some sleep again.

Better to make time fly by faster knocking out where you were sure you wouldn't say anything stupid.

"Hey, no..." he whines, moving his right arm across to shake your chin softly to keep you conscious. "Don't pass out on me again, I'm lonely."

"And I'm tired, deal with it."

Shuffling in his seat, he looks over to see you curling yourself up in a ball with your legs to your knees and arms wrapped around. Not thinking things throughly, he hits the brakes hard for a split second and watches as your body jolts forward before swinging back against his seat.

"What the fuck!" you shriek, propping your body up and facing him in pure rage. "Are you trying to irritate me?!"

"I'm lonely and you're not helping," Pedro calmly states, shrugging as you continue your daggers his way.

You were beyond pissed. How could he think you would be energetic and talkative right now? How could he attempt to make you fly out the window? You could feel your nerves slowly fading away by the fury growing inside you.

If he wanted you awake then fine, you were going to be awake.

Doesn't mean you had to talk though.

Silently sitting up, you stare at the windshield in front of you and watch the cars drive as he continues to spare you a glance every once in a while.

Honestly, your silence was terrifying the fuck out of him. Normally, you would have some snarky comeback or violent punch to return to his evil tactics, but you were doing nothing.

Literally nothing.

And he knows damn well the sights of trees and cars did not interest you.

"Hey...," you feel Pedro lightly poke your side, pursing his lips once he saw your non-existent reaction. "You're not mad, right?"

Ignoring him, you continue your deep stare now onto more trees as you two were getting closer to nature than streets. You must've been out for some time as you barely noticed how far away from the city you really were.

Joon would really love this.

Gradually lifting his arm up, his places it on top of your own and gives it a small squeeze while laying it there. "C'mon, don't ignore me."

As if that would make you stop your scheme.

Blinking slowly, you acted like you paid no attention to his puppy dog pleads as the car was making its way towards an almost empty parking lot, all surrounded by a forest that only had one route starting within an old wooden bridge.

Pulling up to a nearby parking spot, Pedro parked the car before turning back to try and capture your attention but nothing was working.

You were so damn frustrating, it was infuriating. But he was still desperate to gain your attention.

"Are you just going to sit in here all day or what?" he questions as he waves a hand over your face to make you blink.

You didn't and that kind of frightened him. Work of the devil.

"I am going to cry," he warned, swatting his hand over his face to prepare for his fake tears.

Yet you showed no mercy. Sitting there patiently, you inhaled and exhaled softly, causing him to internally flip the fuck out because why were you being so aggravating when the two of you should be walking and pointing out the squirrels fighting over nuts.

And sadly, he was slowly giving up.

"Imagine if I really was crying," he began, offended you did not care one bit. "Really means a lot how unconcerned you are."

But when you suddenly started examining your nails and carefully picking at them is when he totally lost it.

Reaching over to you and moving his arm down your arm, he swiftly intertwined your fingers with his before moving you posture to face him.

His hand was huge.

"No, no-" he started, pulling a face as you gave him a blank stare back. Act natural. Pulling your shared hands in front of his chest, he sulks. "-please, for the love of whichever god you believe in, or if you're an atheist- for the love of you, please talk to me."

Watching him beg for forgiveness has always been funny in the past, but his pleading for attention now makes you feel bad.

"If you talk to me I will buy you breakfast and a very delicious milkshake that will make you extremely happy for the rest of the day," he continues, using his free left arm to wrap around you as his right one still clutches onto your palm.

He's so warm.

Pursing your lips a bit, you send him a skeptical glance. "Oreo shake with a lot of whipped cream?"

He instantly nods, a smile breaking out. "Of course, anything you want."

You look at the car's steering wheel before averting your eyes back to his. "And a red cherry?"

"I'll buy you a full jar of cherries if it makes you happy," he declares.

"And fries?"

Agreeing, he lets out a quick nod again. "With extra seasoning."

Biting your lip, you proceed to think about other stuff you may want with your milkshake and fries. "A burger?"

"My goodness, woman" he sighs, letting go of you and jumping out of the car before running around to your side and opening your door. "I'll buy you the whole menu, now let's go!"

With that, he vigorously yet cautiously pulls you out of your seat and throws you over his shoulders.

"Oh no!" you squeal, trying to find something to hold on to as he begins his journey, walking towards the bridge to start the hike. Grabbing a hold of his neck, you try not to choke him as you place your arm around it.

If you were going down, you were sure you were going to break his neck in the process. At least it would be a learning lesson for him.

"If you drop me I am never talking to you again," you threaten as he continues down a path.

"Said that before and just did it half the car ride here," he begins, moving his shoulder to give you a little fright of your life. "Now I just found out that all I have to do is buy you food and you'll yap again."

Glaring, you choke him a little to which he chuckles. "Didn't know you were into that."

Speechless, you couldn't believe his words. What the hell was he on this morning?

"Put me down!" you exclaim, immediately moving your body so he would lose his balance. Once he did so, you scowl as he ruffles your hair, making it tangle around. "Hey!"

"Can you stop being negative for a few minutes and enjoy the environment?" he asks, pulling his arms up to twirl around. "Just take in that fresh air mother nature gifted us."

Scrunching your nose, you frown. "It smells like rotten eggs."

"Because of the ducks," he pointed out before patting his pockets. "Which we will be feeding with the bread I brought."

Examining his pocket, you shoot him a curious glance. "How big are your pockets?"

"Not important," he states, grabbing your arms and dragging you along with him down the long trail. "What's important is finishing this trail to feel accomplished."

Pouting, you allowed him to drag you along as you miserably dreaded the next few hours to come. The energy you had to give off just for some damn breakfast.

Shame on you for loving food so much.

Encountering many frogs, lizards, and pigeons who loved flying right by both of your heads and scaring you to death, you had long forgotten about how anxious you were being around him. Being distracted constantly had you occupied which was a relief.

Eventually, you two finally found the drugs.

Or the ducks.

Walking by a huge pond, there were numerous amounts of ducks leaping around with their families following behind. It was really cute, but the smell wasn't.

"I wonder if they can choke on this?" Pedro muttered as he pulled out a large bread. Slowly nearing one medium-seized one in caution, he rips a piece apart and throws it. "It is kind of thick."

Taking a moment to check the bread out, you sigh. "Are you feeding these ducks bolillo bread?"

He pauses, not sure why you would care to ask. "Yes and?"

"They have thick crusts!" you exclaim. "And why not just feed them normal wheat bread?"

"Who even eats wheat? It's bland." he protests. "Plus, this is leftovers from my dinner last night."

"They're ducks! They don't care," you argue as he shakes his head.

"Just imagine if you were a duck," he began, making you huff in annoyance as you just knew he was going to say something ridiculous. "Wouldn't you love to eat this nice bolillo bread, maybe visualize a torta with some carnitas, onions, avocado, can't forget the refried bean-"

"The duck is choking!" you squeal and stare in fear as the poor duck starts to wheeze sharply.

Pedro's facial expressions drops as he sees the poor duck quacking in agony. Nervously rushing to its side, he looks up at you. "Do we pat its back? CPR? Call 911?!"

Pulling out your phone, you type away to find answers for your current problem. It was indeed true that you aren't supposed to feed ducks bread.

Especially thick Mexican ones.

"Give it mouth to mouth if you want chlamydia," you read aloud, causing Pedro to instantly leap away from the duck as it hastily begins to lay on the ground. "Wait, you get that from birds, not ducks. Silly me."

"Ducks are birds," he discloses, trying his best to softly pat the ducks back, finally giving it one powerful swat to help but instead the duck ends ups being thrown a few feet away by his force.

"Do I look like a fucking duck doctor?" you spit out, making him look up confused.

"You mean a veterarian."

Ignoring his last comment, you continue scrolling through more of google's suggestions, finally finding some information that may help. "You need to press down on its chest with 1-2 fingers or just give them water to drown it down."

Immediately grabbing the duck and placing it on its back, you worriedly watch over the duck from Pedro's shoulder as he works his fingers on the poor animal.

However, no luck was given as the duck was beginning to look weak and drowsy as pressure kept being projected on its chest. "We need water!"

Running towards the pond, you motion for Pedro to follow along with the duck as you look for a safe ramp to lead the duck onto. "Let's just lay him down near the water and splash him with it."

"He?" Pedro asks, stopping his movements. "But it looks like a she-"

"We are not arguing over its gender when its literally dying in your arms!" you exclaim, causing him to quickly nod and follow the ramp you found towards the water.

Gently, Pedro lowered his arms near the water with the poor duck taking over his hands. Trying to move the flow of water towards its face, he calls you over. "He's not accepting it, you need to scoop some up in your hand and pour it over his beak."

Rapidly nodding, you do as he says and take a handful and try not to spill it before gradually pouring it over the duck's beak. This water was not clean, but at least it was something. Nothing was happening until your third scoop once the duck began to actually swallow some of the water slowly.

"I-I think it's working! We did it!" Pedro cheered, trying to give you a high-five, failing incredibly as he somehow managed to lose his grip and dump the poor duck hard in the pond. "Oh shit!"

Squatting down, you try to reach for the duck as its face was buried underneath the water before Pedro's body slams into yours, causing you to fall into the dirty, cold pond.

The feeling of thick, muddy water overtakes your body as you lose all sight of air. Quickly moving your arms up and down, you rise back to the surface to find Pedro with his hands over his mouth and his jaw dropped.

He knew he wasn't going to hear the end of it.

"Fuck," he nervously muttered to himself before reaching out for you. "I am so so so sorry, the leaf made me slip AH!-"

He couldn't finish his sentence as you yanked his arm down with you, pulling with almighty to get him to land in the pond. The weight of the water going down with his body diving harshly against it, you knew he was completely soaked.

And probably pissed, but its okay. It's what he deserves.

Waiting for him to come up, he finally did so in seconds looking very unhappy. It made you delighted.

"You did that on purpose!"

Scoffing, you splash him and watch as he gasps harder. "You do a lot of things on purpose."

Using both hands to release bigger waves, he splashes you back. "Don't splash me!"

Growling, you slap his chest as he clutches your wrist afterwards. "You're so lucky I forgot my phone at home."

Gasping, you feel one of his hands fly underwater. "I didn't!" You hold in your giggles as he shuffles frantically before moving his gaze back up. "Wait, I never removed it from my glove department. Be fortunate I forgot it because if you destroyed it I would've made you walk home."

Furrowing your brows, you push his shoulders and make him move back by the force of it. "You're the one who started it. We're gonna get duck chlamydia now!"

Rolling his eyes, he pushed you back, causing you to fall under the water. Once you caught your breath again you notice the way he glares at you. "That's not even a thing."

"Just another STD to add to your list," you jokingly mumble to yourself, sure he didn't catch it.

You were wrong, again.

Launching himself onto you, the two of you fall underwater as he shoves you body around in revenge. Swimming back up, you gasp for air while slapping his arms off you as he tried blocking all your attempts.

Wrapping his arms around your waist, he clings his face on your shoulder as he proceeds to try and bring you down under but somehow you manage to wrap your leg around his thigh, causing him to lose his strength and fall backwards with you on top of him.

He sure has one strong grip.

Now, not saying you were going to kill him. But this was your chance to kill him with no witnesses.

Well- besides the ducks, but they wouldn't quack a soul.

Regaining his energy, he lifts himself back up and holds you up, about to drag you under again before you crazily oppose while shaking your head, "Don't! We're gonna get sick!"

"That's not a very sincere apology," he tilts his head, his wet hair scattered across his face as he awaits your alibi.

Huffing, you fight back a rude remark. "Do you understand how much poop were swimming in right now? These ducks are probably laughing at us by how much they are quacking."

Swiftly looking around, the two of you check the surrounding ducks around who blankly stare back. The older looking ones hollering nonsense, probably making plans to kill you and Pedro.

"I bet their releasing their chlamydia right now," you cry, hiding your face in his shoulder as he bursts out laughing.

"I don't think that's how it works."

Glancing down on him, you're surprised by his strength. He's been holding you up by your waist for so long you're shocked he hasn't dropped you accidentally yet. "Let's not find out, let's get out."

"You're forgetting something," he smiles, staring innocently at you, knowing damn well you can't leave without his release. "And I wouldn't wait this one out because I am pretty sure I feel toads swimming near my feet."

Instantaneously, you clung onto him tighter in fear as you could imagine the feeling of something swarming around your body. It was like hundred of spiders crawling all over you, you needed to get out of here.

Pulling yourself back up, you place your hands on his shoulders as he impassively stares back at you, waiting. "Fine," you huff. "I'm sorry for claiming you had STD's before."

Pedro just stays there, not moving an inch as if he wants more. Groaning, you knew he wasn't going to give in so easy. "And I am sorry for stimulating the idea that you would get duck chlamydia," you apologize. "But you can get E. coli."

That didn't help as he just helplessly eyed you, not impressed with your poor excuses of your so-called apologies. What more did he want? You can't necessarily beg on your knees, you're in the water!

Whining, you knew you had to pull out your sincere face. You just knew your Oscar-worthy acting was about to award you freedom.

Softly, you move strands of hair stuck near his eyes away from his face and brush his hair back before quivering your lips and looking down upon him in sorrow.

He has really pretty eyes.

"I'm really sorry," you start as you push your face inside his neck and lock him inside your arms. "I know you don't have any infections, you don't even have visible rashes or sores to prove it."

Pedro finds your plead for forgiveness charming as you squeeze him tighter. He begins to release you until he hears the mutter of your "-that are visible."

"You couldn't hold it in for a few more seconds?!" he whined at how fast you went back to insulting him.

Sighing heavily, you slap a hand to your face. "It's hard!"

Suppressing a laugh, he unwrapped his arms around you and let you get back to the sidewalk. But once you were back on your feet, you looked down to find your body filled with random pieces of dirt, sticks, and grass. "Ew!"

"You're not sitting in my car," Pedro states, waving his head side to side to release some water from his ears.

"You're worse than me!"

"My car, my rules."

Frowning, you weren't sure if he was kidding or not. "Well, you almost committed first-degree-murder so if you don't want people to know you must be my personal servant."

His instant glare turned into confusion as he abruptly moved his attention back towards the pond. "Where did the duck go?"

Widening your eyes, you forgot that you had a helpless duck in your hands minutes ago before your splash attack with Pedro. Scanning your eyes from the sidewalks to the ramps to the pond, you noticed a duck floating nearby. "I think that's them."

Pointing at a duck with the closest familiar colors than the rest, you felt Pedro let out of sigh of relief. "Thank goodness, I would have felt extremely guilty if she would have died."

"It could be a he," you snap back.

He was about to protest but honestly, you were done for the day. You just wanted to take a long and hot shower and knock back out. Not only that, but you ruined your cute running shoes you gifted yourself months ago for your work out journey.

You never really wore them, but it's the thought that counts.

"We can get breakfast another day," you plead to which he didn't argue over because he really wanted to remove the unknown substances off his body asap.

He wouldn't admit it, but he was genuinely scared he may have gotten duck chlamydia .

"Okay, but no sleeping in the car," Pedro states as you exhale loudly. All this and you still weren't allowed to doze off, how cruel is life at the moment.

Walking back to the car would've went down smoothly if the two of you weren't given disturbed looks from strangers and your clothes weren't clinging uncomfortably to your bodies, especially your shoes.

Luckily, Pedro had towels in his trunk and set them down on the seats. "God, I am definitely going to need a deep cleaning after this."

Slipping inside, your hands find the heater and turn it on full blast. Not only was it freezing outside, but your drenched state made you feel like an icicle.

Setting off back to the road, your mind begins to wander back to the question that has been flooding your mind lately. Craning you neck towards his presence, you make out his comfort state. Cool, he's calm.

Here goes nothing.

"So," you start, awkwardly playing with your hands as you try to make direct eye-contact with him as he turns his head to you. "Why did you visit the other morning?"

Lifting a brow, he pulls a face. "Other morning?"

Biting the inside of the cheek, you try to sound composed. "Yeah, remember? You dropped by around 6am-"

"-and you thought I was Lady Gaga, slammed the door on my face, and went back to bed?" he finished, grinning while finding your eyes again. "You mean that day?"

"Well if you knew what I was talking about why make me recall those mortifying details?" you grumble, leaning back against your seat. "And I thought you were a cat."

"I figured, I always questioned why Jules would ramble on about buying Lady Gaga a new electric litter box until I connected the dots," he confessed making you let out a small chuckle.

Yeah, you clearly remember how upset Jules became when Lady Gaga neglected the expensive box.

"But if you're curious, it wasn't because I wanted to go hiking," he smiled, referring to the current day.

"Then why?"

He paused for a minute, checking his mirrors before switching lanes. "I'm not really sure."

Tilting your head a bit, you express curiosity as you glance back. "I don't understand?"

Laughing lowly, he slightly shook his head. "I did wake up real fucking early that day," he started. "Maybe around 4am? Which sucked because I must've gotten like 3-4 hours of sleep."

"So you decided to wake me up so I could feel your pain?"

"No," he stifled another chuckle. "To plant trees."

Squinting your eyes, you become very confused. What is he talking about? He noticed your puzzlement immediately. "You know, go early in the morning to different areas in the city and help dig and replace old trees to plant new ones."

This whole time you were flipping out, wondering why he randomly came early in the morning just to find out it was because he's a nature boy who wants to help out the community?

It was very sweet of him to be as helpful as he was, but you were a little disappointment it wasn't something more.

"That's why?" you ask and he nods. "And why no warning?"

"Well, I was going to call but I figured all that studying you had done the evening before may have knocked you out early," he confessed.

Yet he still made you wake up early today knowing damn well you were exhausted last night. Strange.

"Why me?" you giggle. "I'm not your typical nature girl, Joon would've been perfect for the job."

Shrugging, he leaned his elbow on his middle console. "I thought about asking him, but to be honest I didn't want to pay for any damages he may have caused."

That was a very accurate insight of what Joon really was, clumsy. The amount of times he accidentally dropped his coffee cups, tripped over wires backstage, and face-planted against glass doors would be too much to count on both your palms.

You're surprised he hasn't broken his back again- but still glad he hasn't. That would really suck.

"But have you thought things over yet?" Pedro glanced your way before looking back forward. "About Canada?"

Stiffing up a bit, you move your eyes to the dashboard. You weren't dreading this conversation, but you didn't want to talk about it.

This was a situation where it was a win but also a loss.

Win as in gaining incredible experience, loss that your parent's wouldn't be pleased, it was in a different country, and you'd be missing out on your social life for almost a year.

"Not really," you admit and sense from the corner of your eyes his shoulders fall. "Still indecisive, as always," you try joking to lighten the mood.

Sending over a tiny grin, he mirrors your same expression, doubtful. His face turns concentrated again, leaning closer to you before he shuts down again, ultimately rejecting whatever idea he had going on.

The rest of the drive back to your place went by fast. The two of you made little talk about each other's life and how school was going for you, but he already knew so much already from past encounters.

Pulling up to the red curb you loathe, you crack a scowl as he only returns a smirk at his doing. "I will personally send my property manager to you so she can threaten you."

"I do love threats," he beamed, watching as you reach for the handle before stopping you by his voice. "-but I had fun this morning, despite our little uh...catastrophe," he chuckled, looking down at his clothes.

"I totally agree," you grin. "Dirt just looks so good on me."

He sniggers lightly before slightly sobering up. "But seriously, think about the offer," he begins, nipping at his lip a bit, not trying to put too much pressure on you. "It'll be good for you, you know- your future."

Sighing, you nod. You knew where he was coming from since he's been doing this for so long, but you were still young and had a lot on your mind.

"I'll think about it," you smile, reaching for the door handle and swiftly getting out, missing the way his smile slowly vanishes.

Taking your usual step back, you send him a farewell wave but he does his habitual goodbyes as he gets out of his car and grins to you. "See you around." Laughing, you walk inside the doors and make your way to the elevators, his followed soft "beautiful" being muffled by the traffic on the streets.

It seemed like both of you were screwed.

+

taglist: @thesapphirequeen @floralsightings @wrathofcats @avengersheart @fafik7  @chimchimjiminie16 @adriennemichelle98

[adell032]

Toxic- Spencer

Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader (I don't like y/n so I use random names) Warnings: angst (?) violence Prompt: Spencer knows she loves him, even if those feelings weren't reciprocated, he didn't think she would leave him (we all know Spencer wouldn't act like this) ---------------------------- Allie had been in love with Spencer since the moment she stepped into the BAU, it was a known fact around the office, one that Spencer only noticed 5 years later. Spencer seemed to take advantage of Allie's love for him, something that Allie didn't mind, trips to get coffee, trips to get paperwork, doing a task on a case that he didn't want to do, she always agreed.

Derek and Emily would often tease her for how fast she'd say yes to Spencer, none of the team taking notice to how Spencer's requests grew bigger and bigger as time went on. Simple trips for coffee whilst on a case turned into shopping for him after work, grabbing some paperwork turned into doing some paperwork, cleaning a spilt drink turned into cleaning his whole apartment, yet Allie still didn't mind, instead she just waited for the day that Spencer realised he loved her too.

That day didn't come around, when Maeve and Spencer started dating, Allie noticed that Spencer was sneaking around, making sneaky calls on cases and making Allie wait outside his room all night until he came back. When Maeve died, Allie used her key to check on Spencer every day, though that stopped when he threw a book at her, just missing her cheek by a second.

When Spencer was arrested in Mexico, Allie was the first person to turn up at the jail, and the last person to visit the prison before his release. Allie was the one checking on his mom, keeping his apartment tidy, visiting him weekly, and figuring a way to get him out of jail. Yet she was the last person Spencer spoke to.

It was even worse when he started dating Max, the only time he would talk to the girl was when he was asking her to do something for him. Allie realised she was too attached when Cat Adams used her as an example of why Spencer is a bad person, yet she still waited.

After Cat was arrested for the last time, Spence and Allie didn't talk for a week until he apologised, promising to be a better friend. He stayed true to his word, but Allie felt herself falling for him more and more.

After a bad run-in with an ex boyfriend that left her bloody and bruised, Allie turned up at Spencer's apartment, Spencer cleaned her up and Allie agreed to stay there for the rest of the week. By day 4, she had heard Spencer fuck another girl every single day and night, and she had had enough.

"Hey, Allie." Cassie smiled happily as she walked into the kitchen, wearing only Spencer's shirt. Allie was sat on the kitchen counter, eating a bowl of pasta, "hey Cassie." She responded quietly, looking away from the girl.

Cassie busied herself with making food, whilst Allie cleaned up her dishes, "why are you making food?" Spencer asked as he joined the girls in the kitchen, Cassie shrugged, "got hungry."

Spencer glanced to Allie, "didn't you just make some food?" Allie nodded, pointing towards the dishes she had just cleaned, "did you not make us any?" Cassie awkwardly sighed, walking up to Spencer and whispering something to him before kissing his cheek and heading back to the bedroom.

Allie's heart ached, wondering what Cassie had that she didn't. Why couldn't Spencer see that she was right there.

"I think you should go home, Allie." There was no emotion in Spencer's words, but the look he gave her was pure hatred.

"What? You were the one who said to stay for the week, Spence, what if-"

"Don't fucking call me that, just grab your shit and go."

"What is your problem? I've always called you Spence."

"My problem is that you're so obsessed with me and its annoying! You're nothing but a stupid, selfish stalker!"

Allie felt her heart drop, "stalker? God, Spencer, we're friends, we've been friends for over ten years and I'm all of a sudden a stalker? You invited me to stay here for the week so that I don't possibly get killed by my stalker ex boyfriend!"

"He'd be doing me a favour, now please leave, Alison."

Allie took a step back from Spencer, in their time of being friends he had never called her Alison. The only people who called her Alison were Hotch and Strauss, "he'd be doing you a favour?" She whispered, those words only just processing.

"Yes, Alison, I hope he kills you so you can finally leave me alone."

"You want me to leave you alone, fine. But never, ever, wish that shit on someone." Allie walked into the living room, picking up her to-go bag, tears freely dropping from her eyes.

"Do you ever stop crying?" Spencer asked as he followed her, "do you ever stop being a cunt?" Allie swore she saw Spencer flinch at her words, insulting someone was something she never did, but she no longer cared.

After a quick check that she had everything, Allie walked towards the front door, "it was nice knowing you, Dr Reid." The door slammed behind her as she practically ran towards her car, tears clouding her vision as she hurriedly messaged Emily.

The drive to the BAU was about half an hour, but Allie knew it was her only option, she'd had enough of being a pawn for Spencer Reid, and she'd had enough of seeing his face everyday.

Grabbing her badge and gun, Allie sped walked into the building, hoping that Emily had read her text message and was still in the building. "Allie! What are you- oh, oh! Allie!" Penelope called after Allie as she rushed into Emily's office, thankfully seeing her still there.

"What's the problem?" Emily looked up from her paperwork, dropping them once she saw Allie, "tell her no, tell her she can't go." Penelope whispered in the doorway as Allie presented her badge and gun to Prentiss.

"I'm resigning from my position of SSA Allison Woods, nothing you say can change my mind."

"You have to give us two weeks warning if you're resigning."

"Then I quit, effective immediately."

--

Allie didn't go home that night.

Allie spent the night in her car in the FBI parking lot, her box of stuff shoved on the floor. Pictures of the team, drawings from the kids, her mug, the mug Penelope gifted her, and her box full of 'lucky charms.' She watched as Rossi pulled into the parking lot first, parking a few spots away from her, then Emily pulled in 20 minutes later, then Matt, and slowly, Allie watched as the team went on with their normal days.

Allie pulled out of the parking lot for the last time at around 11am, leaving the building she had been in for the past 13 years. Her house was dark when she arrived, lights off, doors shut, windows shut, no signs of any break in, but she still kept her hand on her personal gun.

Walking in slowly, she flicked the lights on, checking no one was in the entre way before closing the front door, her box and bag dropped to the floor as she was slammed into the door. Her gun slid across the floor and her elbow quickly connected with a face.

Her ex flung back as Allie opened the front door again, one foot out of the door when he grabbed her arm, throwing her to the floor. "Alex what the fuck!"

Alex locked the front door as Allie dove for her gun, grabbing it and sprinting for the back door, a gunshot sounded, and she felt wind pass her as the bullet skimmed her shoulder. She didn't stop running as she clicked the safety off her own gun, shooting blindly at the guy behind her as she ran to the bedroom.

Allie locked the bedroom door, running to her ensuite and locking herself in there too, the sound of banging was loud, and the sound of the door breaking was louder. Allie grabbed her now smashed phone from her pocket, clicking on the first contact she saw, before her finger could click the call button Allie fell back as a bullet hit her skin, her phone and gun falling out of her hand as she hit her head off the floor.

The bathroom door broke, and Alex threw himself in the room, gun pointed at Allie, "I told you he wouldn't love you like I did."

--

The team gathered in the meeting room, finding both Emily and Penelope blankly staring at the badge and gun in the centre of the table. "Who's leaving?" Rossi looked at everyone in the room, but everyone shook their heads.

"Where's Reid and Woods?"

"I'm right here." Reid walked into the room, and Penelope glared at him, barging past him as she left. Emily cleared her throat, "Alison quit last night, effective immediately. She no longer works for the BAU."

"What?" Tara whispered, "but, she loves this job, she wouldn't just leave."

"Well, she did. There's no case for today, so paperwork. That will be all." Emily left first, heading towards Garcia's office, leaving the rest of the team.

"She's really gone? She just.. left?" Spencer spoke first, picking up Allison's badge, confirming it was hers. "No, she wouldn't."

"It doesn't make any sense, she wouldn't just leave without saying goodbye." Luke sat down, picking up his phone, "what are you doing?"

"I'm giving her a call, might go and stop by her place." Luke rang her number, the call immediately going to voicemail, "I'm going to her place, her phone never goes to voicemail." He stood up quickly, but Rossi held a hand up, "wasn't she staying with you, Reid?"

The five of them looked at Reid, who stayed silent, "Alex is out of jail right? Didn't you say she could stay with you for the week until the restraining order is in place?" JJ asked, and Reid nodded his head.

"Well then, where is she?" Luke asked, taking a step towards Reid.

"She left."

"To where?" Matt demanded, staring at Reid from across the table, "I'm not sure."

"Why'd you let her leave without knowing where she's going! Alex promised he'd kill her when he got out, and you just let her go?"

"We got into an argument, I told her to leave."

"You told her to leave?" Rossi asked calmly, "Are you fucking stupid, Reid?" Matt shouted, grabbing his gun and badge, "if she's hurt in anyway, it's on you."

The door slammed open as Penelope and Emily ran in, "we have a problem."

[huneekrispee]

Where is my lover?

Pairing: c!Dreamwastaken x gn!Reader

Summary: Living outside the Dream SMP, far from the war and chaos, Dream was able to find comfort in you. One day, he leaves, promising to come back to you. It's been months, now you're left wondering... where is my lover?

Warnings: cursing, use of dream's real name, spoilers for the Dream SMP Finale, tiny bit of fluff at the start, angst

Word Count: 2.4k

A/N: I've been watching Attack on Titan recently, and the song 'Call Your Name' has me in the feels :( Sorry for being away for so long :( School has been an ass to me, I hope you enjoy it!! -Hunee <3

Also! Please don't mind the pronouns in the song! This is a gender-neutral fic, I merely just wrote the song lyrics as they are :)

She lost her brother a month ago

His picture on the wall

And it reminds me

When she brings me coffee... her smile

I wish I could be with her until my last day

In the forest, a cottage lays peacefully in a secluded meadow near a running stream. The tall trees lay their shadows onto the grassy floor, leaving marks from the sun. Water solemnly runs along, moving to its next destination through the stream. Grass rustles and a soft sigh is heard.

Stretching his arms above his head, a man clad in green slowly sits up, emerald eyes darting around. He yawns. "(Y/N)!" He's now standing up, searching for his lover. Dream's hand reaches down to grab his mask left abandoned on the grass, quickly putting it on.

Preparing his sword, his hand on the hilt, Dream slowly steps toward the cottage. He rests a hand on the door, waiting for something, anything.

A scream is heard.

He now slams the door open, netherite blade on full display, ready to attack. Looking around, he notices no one but (Y/N) in the cozy home, with a kettle on the ground next to them. Lowering his guard, sighing with relief, he sheathes his sword once more, walking over to his distraught partner.

"Are you alright?" Removing his mask, he takes their hands in his. Dream looks at them. (Y/N) looks down, taking their hurt hand out of his. Sighing, Dream quickly leads them over to the sink, running the tap. "What happened?" The coldness of the water helped soothe the burn. "I just, accidentally burnt myself with the kettle. It's okay, I'll live, Clay."

The man remained silent. The only sound heard in the cottage was the running tap water. After treating the burn on their hand, Dream leads (Y/N) to the chair on the side of the room. "You. Sit. I'll finish doing whatever you were doing. You just sit there and take it easy, you just burnt your hand." Bending down to their height, Dream stands face to face with (Y/N). He narrows his eyes slightly. He was always like this. Whenever (Y/N) got hurt in any sort of way, Dream was always on it, almost suffocating them with his overwhelming protectiveness.

They sighed, avoiding his eyes. "I- I was just... I just wanted to make you a coffee this morning. I know you're going to be busy later, so I wanted to make sure that you were energized for your work." Fiddling with their bandaged hand, (Y/N) smiled gently. "I see how you're always so dedicated to the stuff you do, and I wanted to return the favor, even if it's just a cup of coffee."

Dream's eyes softened. It was true, he was dedicated to his work. Running an SMP was hard, especially with some people interfering with his plans recently. He had plans to take power over the server again. Finding and taking everything his people were attached to was difficult, but at least he had (Y/N) to come home to. It was all for them. It was worth the hard work and pain just to see (Y/N) smile at him, showing him their love.

"It's okay. Thank you for wanting to do that, but you don't have to." Running his hand up to their cheek, he smiled. "I do all of my work for you, to help make a safe place for you. Once I sort out the rebellious people, I promise, I'll come back to you, and we can live together in my SMP." (Y/N) gazed up at him, looking into his eyes. They smiled, beaming at the idea.

"Alright! I promise I'll wait for you! I'll always wait for you. I love you, Clay."

"I love you too. I promise I will come back to you. Always."

He would do anything to see that smile on their face all the time.

She said she gave all her love to me

We dreamt a new life

Some place to be at peace

But things changed... Suddenly

I lost my dreams in this disaster

It had been two days. Two days since Dream had left. (Y/N) had since then tended to the flowers and read a few books Dream had gotten them from a faraway village.

'I wonder what he's doing now?' Looking up at the sky, (Y/N)'s mind began to wander. What was dream doing right now? Maybe he was still on his way back to his SMP? Or maybe he was trading with villagers for resources?

They smiled. Dream had been one of (Y/N)'s lifelong friends turned partner. They had met when (Y/N) used to live in a village as a child. (Y/N) was nine and Clay was ten. Dream had gotten into a rough fight with two skeletons and a zombie. He was stumbling around, trying to find help for his injuries.

That was when (Y/N) appeared. Hearing the boy's cries, they ran out of their family home, taking Dream into the house to be treated, screaming for their parents to help him.

They had grown up together as best friends after that. Meeting George and Sapnap, the group loved to go on little adventures together and play their favourite game: manhunt. Dream would always insist on running, with George and Sapnap chasing after him. Sometimes, (Y/N) would join them, but they quite enjoyed seeing the trio panic during the game. It was fun.

A couple years ago, Dream visited (Y/N), saying that he was starting up his own SMP, a place where he and his friends could have fun and just be themselves all the time. The two of them spend hours in (Y/N)'s room, talking about their big plans and ideas for the SMP. Dream wanted to build a cottage near a stream, and live there peacefully with (Y/N). They were shocked, Dream wanted to live with them? "Why?" They asked.

"Well, because of... I'll just show you."

That was the day Clay had kissed (Y/N) for the first time.

I'm crying

Missing my lover

I don't have the power

On my side forever

A month had passed. Nothing from Dream. Usually, he'd send a message through on their server communicator, asking how they were and informing them of his journey and new discoveries. But that didn't happen, not this time.

It was hard. Clay had been such a big part of their life that sometimes they found it hard not to worry about him. They knew he was strong, he could take down armies of people, but everyone had their limit.

Raising the iron hoe, (Y/N) swung down, making way for the new seeds of crops that would grow over the next few months. Wiping their forehead with their sleeve, they sighed.

All they wanted was for Dream to be safe, and for him to come back home once he finished his business in the SMP.

Oh Where is my lover

And I got no power

I'm standing alone, No way

Calling out your name

Heavy pants of breath echoed throughout the underground bunker. He was panicking. It wasn't supposed to go like this.

The plan was to kill Tubbo and make Tommy give him his disks.

It all went to shit when Punz showed up with backup, showing the people of his SMP that had turned against him fully.

"W-woah! Okay! Tommy, calm down!"

The blonde boy didn't listen, hands gripping the axe of peace and lifting it high above his head.

"Tell me why I shouldn't kill you Dream, right here, right now."

Dream silently gulped. For once, his plan failed. It backfired on him and blew up in his face. 'Sorry (Y/N). Guess I'm not coming back tonight.' He just wanted this to be over. He just wanted to be back in the cottage near the stream, sitting with his lover.

His green eyes darted around to everyone in the room. They looked disgusted, some disappointed, others angry. He knew this would never change. He would never get his SMP back. They hated him. Wanted him gone.

"Does Y/N know you're like this?"

His breath hitched. Eyes went wide.

Sapnap had stepped forward, sword out, pointing it threatening at Dream. "Do they know just how bad you are? How corrupt you've become?!" He was yelling at this point. Sapnap was upset as well. It was hard to believe that his best friend would do all of these bad things, it hurt to betray him, but he had to do what was right.

"S-stop. Stop talking about them."

For once, Dream was vulnerable. He hated it. He was always so soft when it came to them. When it came to (Y/N). Sapnap knew that. He had seen it when they were together, how happy dream was when he was with them, following them around like a lost puppy, longing for their love. It went both ways, (Y/N) was the same.

"Who the fuck is- Nevermind. Dream. Give me one good fucking reason why I shouldn't-"

"Tommy stop." Sapnap stepped in again. "This is important to not just me but for another person as well." Tommy stepped back, axe still prepared to lash out just in case. Tommy kept muttering to himself, something about a green bastard.

"Dream. Where is (Y/N)? You said they would join the SMP with us, but they're not here, nobody has seen them, probably besides you. You said that they changed their mind about the SMP, or was that a lie too?"

Dream gulped, words caught in his throat.

"Tell me, you bastard! Where is (Y/N) and do they know?!"

"No. They don't know. All I wanted to do was protect them from something I knew would happen. The wars, the chaos of the SMP. They didn't need to be a part of that. I didn't want them to get hurt."

It was almost like a plea. Dream's voice was quiet like he didn't want them to hear what he was saying. Sapnap stepped back, somewhat satisfied with his answer. He was also upset, he hadn't seen (Y/N) in years, not since before the SMP started.

Tommy finally stepped forward.

"Now. Tell me why I shouldn't kill you, Dream."

"I can bring people back to life. I can bring Wilbur back."

I said I gave all my love to you

We dreamt a new house

Some place to be at peace

But things changed... Suddenly

I lost my dreams in this disaster

Three months. It had been three long months without him. (Y/N) would spend every other night crying in their bed, missing him. They missed everything about him. No messages from him on their communicator. No death messages about him either.

They had never thought that three months could feel so long.

Surely he was busy doing stuff that would mean the world was safer for them. That's what he always said. He said that he worked for them and that he promised that they could settle down and make a new cottage near a different stream, closer to the SMP.

He said he needed to dig out the rebellious people and make his SMP a better place.

All (Y/N) could hope for was that he was safe and doing okay.

We don't know what is wrong tonight

Everybody's got no place to hide

No one's left and there's no one to go on

All I know is my life is gone

Dream was not feeling safe and right now he was feeling anything but okay.

Tommy had just broken his mask. Split down the middle, from the axe of peace.

He didn't want anyone to see his face, no one but (Y/N) and the people who had already seen it before he started wearing the mask.

His mask was his safe haven. A facade he could hide behind. With it gone, there was now no place for him to hide.

All he had done was tell Tommy that he could bring people back to life. When he mentioned Wilbur, Tommy seemed shocked, but then he seemed to come back to his senses after remembering what Wilbur was like before he died.

He went crazy. Insane. All because of Dream and his stupid motives. He only fueled Wilbur's change, encouraging him to blow Manburg up after Jschlatt took over. Thank God for Karl destroying the button the first time. The second attempt was successful and sealed Wilbur's fate as a psychotic, destroyed ex-president swayed by the masked man into committing destruction.

Tommy was angry at that. At the fact that Dream would even think about bringing back Wilbur.

Enraged, he brought the axe down onto Dream's cowering figure.

I'm crying

Missing my lover

I don't have the power

On my side forever

Sitting up, (Y/N) slowly looked around the room. It was the same as always; no Dream insight. They woke up every day with a feeling of hope that they would turn around and see Dream at the door, back from his trip.

The situation was too much. (Y/N)'s breaths quickened, eyes blurring up with tears, the salty water slowly dripping down the sides of their cheeks. They let out a dry laugh, bringing up their sweater paw hands to their face, wiping the tears.

They stared at the sleeve of the hoodie they had on. It was green.

It was his.

He always left a spare here, just in case.

It always came in handy when (Y/N) missed him.

They sighed, flopping back down onto the bed, curling into themselves and the hoodie. It smelt like him. He always smelt like a run through the forest, with a hint of saltwater and citrus.

It was comforting.

He was comforting.

The tears wouldn't stop. Every time (Y/N) wiped them away, fresh ones would keep coming. Where was he? Was he okay? It was all they could think about.

(Y/N) hugged themselves, hoping to recreate a hug like his. It didn't work. It never worked.

Nothing could ever compare to his hugs.

Still sobbing, (Y/N) cried themselves back to sleep, despite it being morning.

Not like they had any motivation to do anything without the assurance of him being okay anyways.

Oh Where is my lover

And I got no power

I'm standing alone, No way

Calling out your name

Beep.

(Y/N)'s communicator went off.

Dream was slain by Tommyinnit.

[the-soliloquies-of-sadists]

#246

“Here boy. I know who and what you are. Do you know who I am?… Liar. You’re a faggot liar. Yes you do. You have been drooling over me for weeks now. Follow me. I got us a room at the motel next door….

“The regulars here at the diner don’t care that I prefer fucking faggots like you over broads. I just don’t broadcast it like you do. I’ve seen you talking to some of the boys I have fucked. You know I have a big dick and that I pile drive boy cunt.

“I’ve seen you in the parking lot. You watch the guys like me going into the bookstore across the lot. You want to follow them in, but the bookstore won’t let you. They know you’re underage. Until today. Now you are legal to fuck. Yeah, I know your 18th birthday is today. I know a lot of things about you. I know you cruise the bookstore, and the bathroom the bar shares with the diner. I know you are finishing up at high school.

“Here’s our room. I fuck the owner and he let’s me use a secluded empty room whenever I need. So, you can scream when I tear up your cunt. Having a big dick has many many many advantages. I need to let off some steam from a long day on the farm. Get naked, I’m gonna get the ropes out. My reputation is well known that I am a twisted fucker. Hell my conquests told you the such, and yet you came with me here.

“Always remember this, I am always in control of everything. Right now, that includes you. Naked. And then get on your knees and face me. See, it’s natural for you to follow orders. And where’s your phone?… Hand it to me…. Continue stripping. Well,… You’re kinda scrawny. You’ve never worked a hard day at anything, and it shows. Damn your pecker is tiny. That’s the way I like it. My cock is fucking huge, and you need to realize your place is on your knees in front of real men. You will never be a real man. You do know that, right?…

“You know what I want you to do. I want you to beg me to fuck you. I want you to beg me to brutalize your cunt. And while you are begging me and degrading and humiliating yourself, I will be jacking off to you. Having a big dick requires a little extra tugging to get hard. I know you wouldn’t know anything about that. You are too focused on your cunt. And call it a cunt a number of times, especially when you are fingering it. I want you to tell me that you need for me to rape you. Your goal is to degrade yourself. Tell me how much of a faggot you are. And focus on your tiny clit there. Tell me how you envy any real man with a real sized dick. And the thing I need for you to beg me to rape you—not have sex, not make love—rape. Use that word often.

“Here look up at me, at your phone. Thanks for letting me use your face to unlock it. I will be recording this on your phone. I want you to have a record of how low you are. I want you to watch this every morning as you are about to jack off at home. Speaking of jacking off, I should take my cock out for you. Damn, even totally limp, it’s way bigger than yours hard.

“You have three minutes to fully degrade yourself. Go!…

“…That’s time. Ok. See how big you got me? The full nine and a half inch dick, ready to rape the hell out of you. Crawl over here and blow me, but first put on this blindfold. I don’t want you to see anything. Good, now show me how good you are as a faggot cocksucker. Throat me to the nut. Put as much spit on it as you can. That’s pretty much the lube I will be using to tear your cunt up. Maybe if you are good, I will use some spit on the cunt. Take your time, but throat me. Get into it faggot. I’m gonna chill here… Open that fucking throat… Gag on that monster….

“You really are pathetic. Get your ass on the bed, face down. Need to tie you down. What? Now you want out? Aww hell the fuck no. I said on the fucking bed. Ok. You really want this to be a rape don’t you? Look I know my way around ropes and tying up livestock. I do work in a farm, and I am a part of the local rodeo. Calling out for help ain’t going to help.

“And, I sent myself a copy of that video where you are begging me to rape you and to show you no mercy. Nobody will believe you. Just a few more seconds, and there! You ain’t going nowhere now. You are going to be in that position for some time. Your cunt is on display, ready to be mounted.

“But first, I’m going to fuckin’ welt you up. I got my son’s belt here; mine doesn’t move through the air as nicely as his, and besides I’m still wearing mine. You don’t even deserve me stripping for you. When it comes to whipping, I don’t stop to let you recover.

“Being your birthday, It’s eighteen strokes in a row. Start your fucking screaming now. One, two, three,… louder fucker, you deserve every one of these strokes… Eight, nine, ten,… I can already see the welts forming. Oh yeah, bright red cheeks get me leaking. When I hit number twenty-five, I’m going right to the root whether or not you are ready. And it’s not going to take me very long to nut in you. Fourteen, fifteen, sixteen, seventeen, and… eighteen.

“Quit your crying faggot. Here, bite down on my son’s belt. You really have me leaking here. And… all the way in. Fuck yes! This cunt hasn’t been fucked much, has it? Stop your screaming, I asked you a fucking question. You get fucked much?… No?… Wait, that was a cherry pop? Oh fuck yeah. I’m close to giving you some cream to go on your cherry pie. Oh yeah. Fuck. Take it bitch. Feel my load fill you up. Faggot.

“That’s what you have to look forward to for the next few days. Oh man, fuck. I’m gonna lay here for a while. Watch your head, my cigar is only an inch or two from your cheek. I don’t want to brand you,… well at least not yet. Let go of the belt. Holy shit. You really did bite down hard. I can’t wait to give this back to him and tell him how the teethmarks came about.

“Oh yeah, he knows I’m gay. He doesn’t care. He’s totally straight, and I mean totally straight. Now just lay there; you ain’t going anywhere. But I want you to hear this. Yeah, I kept my sex life away from him until one day when he walked in on me fisting his math teacher, Mr. Gunter.

“Oh yeah, he goes to the same high school as you. He too is ready to graduate. You know him, oh yes you do. You’ve been texting him all year, ever since he transferred to your school. You were not very nice to him. In fact, you and a few of your friends beat him up. And what reason did you have for giving him a black eye?… Don’t remember? You called him a faggot. You told your friends that he hit on you in gym class. Talk about projecting.

“When he came home suspended for fighting and with a black eye, I wanted details. He gave me your name and showed me your pic in the yearbook. And wouldn’t you know, I recognized you from your attempted bookstore runs. A week later you start hanging around the diner. You couldn’t get into the bar area, but you sat every Friday afternoon in that same spot in my line of vision, pretending to read that book while groping yourself. So subtle.

“I had your background run by a this cop I regularly fuck. He told me a shitload about you. He’s the one that informed the bookstore across the street that you were underage. There’s a boy—a year older than you—that I fuck who is a Facebook friend of yours showed me your wall. I got to go through every word you wrote while he was giving me head. And unlike you, he knows how to deep throat. Again, having a big dick has its advantages.

“And about that time, you and my son were suspended, you posted a viral video of a bullied kid getting revenge on the bully by sleeping with the bully’s mom. And your comment was something like, ‘Best served cold.’

“Funny thing is, I’m out. While I don’t broadcast it in this tiny town, but I don’t hide it. My son and ex-wife know. The ranch I work at knows. Hell, the main reason how I got the job was that I fucked the owner and told him that I was looking for a job. The guys at the bar all know. So how were you going to humiliate my son? He probably would say, ‘He fucked you? You ain’t the first, you won’t be the last.’ or something like that.

“So, what’s happening next for you? Certainly not humiliating my son. No, for you, I have plans. I’m gonna fuck you again. I’ll leave you tied up. The motel is going to get full later on tonight, mostly truckers. I’ve let the motel owner and the guy that works the bookstore that you are here ready for all horny truckers.

“Tomorrow, I’m going to pass you over to this biker club one of my friends is a member of. He already set up something really nasty for you. The gang already knows what a piece of shit you are. They can’t wait to get their hands on you, and I can’t wait to hear all about it. By the end of the weekend, your cunt will be destroyed. I will give you two black eyes to make up for the one you gave my boy. Most likely your hair will be removed. You are going to be beaten. Hell, my cop buddy is a former boxer. He’s going to string you up and use you as a punching bag.

“And in the end,… I will decide if you keep your balls. Wow. That’s the first time you have flinched while lying under me. Aw, shut up. I work with livestock every day. I know how to castrate a bull. I haven’t decided about you. Just keep that in mind throughout the weekend. You complain or resist, your balls will be in jeopardy.

“You probably won’t see much of me. But I will you. I have it arranged to have it all filmed for me. I expect to see a cum hungry faggot whore knowing his place of being used by real men. Your balls will depend on it. For me, I’m going to be with my son doing dad things.

“And I don’t plan on letting him in to the fact that you are a faggot whore lookin to get raped seeing, he already knows. How do I know? I text him, while you were trying to give me head. I wrote, from your phone, ‘I have to get this off my chest. I am a faggot whore. I can’t live in the closet anymore. Please share this video.’

“Then I sent him your video. While you are going to be in a living hell for the next four days, you won’t be able to stop him or anyone from finding out. This is how I want it. As I said before, I am always in control of everything. Oh, and happy birthday.”

[ethanharli]

Resentment: Jujutsu Kaisen x Male Reader

[Ch.1|Episode One]

___________

“Ngh” A small groan slipped past my parted lips as I rubbed the scar on my neck, feeling it itch and burn as I tried not to scratch at it. “Does it still hurt?” My gaze flicked down towards Itadori, his sudden presence not much of a shock to me since him popping up out of no where is a regular occurrence to me. Yet the slight worry in his eyes caused a small smirk to tug at my lips as he rested his hand on my shoulder, “Jus’ itches, nothin’ more than that.” My voice came out low and gruff, with a bit of strain, something I still haven't gotten used to after I had damaged my vocal cords years ago. However Itadori just smiled and patted my shoulder, “Don’t forget to take care of it okay? I don’t wanna keep slapping your hands if you try to scratch at it” I couldn’t help but laugh along with him at the memories.

“Ah- Yuji I forgot to mention that I wont be able to come with you to visit your grandpa, I promised I’d stay with Sasaki and Iguchi after school today” I couldn’t help but frown at the slight waver in his smile, and the hint of disappointment in his eyes. I’d always go with him to see his grandpa, as emotional support and for the fact that his grandpa and I always had a father-son like relationship, but I couldn’t tell my classmates no when they looked at me with such excitement about the surprise they had for me. “It’s alright, I’ll tell him you said Hi!” His smile seemed a bit fake at this point, and in hopes to make him feel a bit better I rested my hand on his head, ruffling up his hair like I used to do when we were younger. “I’ll see you tomorrow then, but you really should go, it looks like coach is waiting for you?” I spoke awkwardly, finally noticing the coaches piercing gaze behind us.

“Oh yeah! I’ll see you later then!” Itadori turned to leave, but before he could I gently took ahold of his wrist, catching his attention with slightly widened eyes. “Remember, I’m always a call away if you need me” I smiled softly, finally letting go of his wrist as he stared at me for a moment, before breaking into a wide grin with a happier aura now surrounding him. “I know, but be careful okay? I’ll see you tomorrow!” I merely nodded and waved as he ran off alongside the coach, knowing exactly how that was going to end. Yet, before I could take another step a familiar disgusting stench made its way to my nose, along with some unsettling memories that I quickly pushed back down.

“What the hell was that..?” I couldn’t help but mumble it out, my hand instinctively moving toward the scar on my neck, the raised flesh once again started to itch and burn, irritating me to no end. Taking a deep breath I stuffed my hands in my pockets and headed towards the occult clubroom, deciding I’ll just wait out in there until Sasaki and Iguchi got back.

--------

An hour or two passed since I got to the clubroom, and since I already cleaned the room when I first arrived I decided to lean back in one of the chairs and read the books we have in here, actually finding most of them quiet interesting. However I nearly doubled over at the familiar scent that I had smelled earlier as a prickly feeling danced over my skin, sending an unpleasant shiver up my spine. My ears immediately perking up at the sound of footsteps approaching the clubroom. Something felt off, and as it got closer I couldn’t help the small growl that reverberated throughout my chest, the sudden alarm of my flight or fight responses kicking in as the door slid open, revealing Sasaki and Iguchi. The familiar faces not doing anything to help calm my nerves as I glared at the object in Sasaki’s hand.

“What’s that?” I didn’t hesitate to voice my thoughts, my tone now surprisingly harsh as I continued to glare at the medium sized object. My fellow second years looked at me in shock before a wide grin spread across Sasaki’s face, “Itadori grabbed it for us! it’s supposed to contain an evil spirit” Even though she spoke with a carefree tone I couldn’t help but tense up when she held it up to me, the alarms in my head continuing to rattle my core as I got a better view of it.

That’s.. a special grade object.

“I don’t think that's a good idea, what if something goes wrong and someone gets hurt?” I tried to be a voice of reason, hopping she’d put the damn thing away, or at least hand it over so I can get rid of it. It didn’t help that my hands were practically trembling under the desk as I glared at the object with unease as she pulled up a chair and sat in front of me. “Simple! Nothing will happen, and if something does happen then we got you here Mr. Underground boxer” Her teasing smirk caused my unease to settle for a moment, and the mention of my old hobby causing a blush to spread across my cheeks. However she’s as stubborn as a mule, so if I can’t convince her not to open it then I’ll at least be here when it happens, “Fine, lets get to it before I change my mind.”

So for the next ten minutes we moved the desks around and turned off the lights as I took a seat besides Sasaki, watching carefully as she slowly unwrapped the talisman, keeping my guard up until finally the talisman came off, “A finger?” I mumbled softly, looking closely at the decayed limb. Until finally it clicked, “Move!” My nose twitched at the new scent approaching and reaching behind me I grabbed my chair and threw it up at the curse above us, grabbing both Sasaki’s and Iguchi’s wrists to force them out the room. ”Run!” I growled out, a small hiss slipping past my lips as I slammed the sliding door shut, feeling the hands of the curse crash into it behind me. ”And I thought I was finally done with this shit-” Taking a deep breath I pushed against the door and sprinted down the hallway, searching for my classmates.

I have to find Sasaki and get that finger from her, at least that way I know she won’t be the main target. With that in mind I tried tapping back into my own curse as I ran down the halls, but every time was a failed attempt. I stopped when I heard a high-pitched scream, I wasted no time bolting towards the sound, Sasaki and Iguchi both coming into view, however my blood nearly ran cold at the sight of the curse on their trail, it’s hands reaching out towards them, successfully grabbing Iguchi, “Fuck!” In an desperate act I ran towards Sasaki, a light green glow surrounding my body as I managed to make it to her in time, pushing her out the way as the hand that tried to grab her got to me instead, slamming my body into the wall besides me. The air got knocked out of my lungs from the impact, black spots slowly clouding my vision as my teeth gritted in pain.

“Run..” I managed to mumble out, the curse dragging me back into its body as fatigue slowly weighed me down. In the blur of my vision I caught a glimpse of someone new standing before the curse, a sigh slipped past my lips as I used the last bit of my energy to reach for Iguchi, the faint green glow returning to my body as I grabbed Iguchi’s arm, the flow of my cursed energy managed to make the curse shy away from my body a bit as I yanked Iguchi out of its body and threw him onto the titled floor. The shattering of glass and a familiar blur of pink hair being the last thing I saw before it all went black.

--------

The cool air nipped at my skin as I shifted a bit, a groggy groan slipping past my lips as my eyes fluttered open, being met with a familiar plain, cream colored ceiling. “Y’know it was a surprise to see you there,” Almost instantly I bolted up, the familiar voice causing my eyes to narrow as I glared at the masked male, a smirk playing at his lips as he leaned back in the hospital hair. “It’s good to see you again, wild child” The old name caused my nose to twitch in irritation, a few strands of my [H/c] hair falling in front of my eyes, as a dull ache started to appear in my lower back, “Wish I could say the same.. Satoru.” His presence unsettled me for the simple fact that I knew my finally normal life would go back downhill once again, yet I can’t deny that seeing him again made me a little bit happy.

Like hell I’d tell him that though, his ego’s already to big.

“Wait, what happened after I passed out?” I asked, remembering all the events until after that moment, however I didn’t like the amusement in his smile as he leaned forward, slowly beginning to explain the situation to me. The image of Itadori eating Sukuna’s finger made me wince in disgust, but it felt like my whole world came to a stop at the mention of his future execution. Anger slowly bubbled up within my chest but I made sure to bite it back down as I glared at my fists, “The higher ups are nothing more than pathetic little insects.. I hate them, all of them.” I couldn’t help but grit my teeth, my fists slowly beginning to tremble as a low growl slipped past my lips. “Then come back to Jujutsu tech, you’ve been gone for about six years now, if they hear about your return it’ll cause an uproar.”

Before I could answer him the door opened, revealing Itadori, and I couldn’t help but jump out of the bed and make my way towards him, startling him slightly, “[Y/n]! You’re Okay-!” He tensed in my arms as I engulfed him in a hug, my fingers desperately gripping onto the back of his shirt as I hid my face in the crook of his neck. Not caring that Gojo was watching in amusement behind me, or the fact my body still felt so heavy after what happened. The felling of his arms finally wrapping around my waist catching me off guard, but I didn’t make any act to move as everything I learned slowly came to mind. A small sigh slipped past my lips as I pulled away, looking at Itadori’s face for a moment, noticing the new marking under his eyes, that must’ve appeared after eating Sukuna’s finger.

“I’m glad you’re okay” It was all I could mumble out in the moment, the pit in my stomach growing at the thought of the higher ups executing him someday. “I should be the one saying that, you’re the one in the hospital” He laughed and I couldn’t help but laugh along with him, “Touché.”

Taking a step back I turned towards Gojo, my eyes narrowing in determination, “I’ll go back.”

And I’ll protect him too.

[bamf-jaskier]

What the fuck are the Trials

Since the show is based on the books and not the games, and more people are more familiar with the games that the books, I thought it might be helpful to sort of officialize the posts I’ve done about specific topics in the books. 

Here are the previous posts on Triss&Geralt as well as Coën

TLDR: So looking at this process, according to the books the way a Witcher becomes, well a Witcher looks like this:

There is the Choice which is the decision to become a Witcher made when you are a child

Eat a lot of magic mushrooms that give you the strength and ability Witchers are known for

Then the Trial of the Grasses which is a concoction of mutagenic elixirs injected into the bloodstream which mutates you into a Witcher

Then finally there are the Changes. This is a big step and one that requires a mage. This is when the hormones are changed and a Witcher becomes permanently sterile

then there is training until you earn your medallion and BOOM, out onto the path with you

Now, have a post about what the trials are as far as the books are concerned

It’s important to note that in the books, The Witcher are a dying breed so the Trials are really only mentioned in Blood of Elves when Ciri trains with the Witchers and the two prequels, Sword of Destiny and The Last Wish. 

Let’s start out with the basics of the Trials, here is a passage from Blood of Elves where Triss is wondering why the Witchers at Kaer Morhen are being so secretive in regards to Ciri:

“It’s obvious. They want to mutate the child, subject her to the Trial of Grasses and Changes, but they don’t know how to do it. Vesemir was the only witcher left from the previous generation, and he was only a fencing instructor. The Laboratorium, hidden in the vaults of Kaer Morhen, with its dusty demi-johns of elixirs, the alembics, ovens and retorts… 

None of the witchers knew how to use them. The mutagenic elixirs had been concocted by some renegade wizard in the distant past and then perfected over the years by the wizard’s successors, who had, over the years, magically controlled the process of Changes to which children were subjected. And at a vital moment the chain had snapped. 

There was no more magical knowledge or power. The witchers had the herbs and Grasses, they had the Laboratorium. They knew the recipe. But they had no wizard.”

Later:

“And now they want to mutate the girl but can’t. And that might mean… They may ask me to help. And then I’ll see something no living wizard has seen, I’ll learn something no living wizard has learned. Their famous Grasses and herbs, the secret virus cultures, the renowned, mysterious recipes…”

Now, what Triss doesn’t realize is that Geralt and the others are not planning on subjecting Ciri to the trials at all but are instead trying to hide Ciri’s magical ability from Triss. They are worried she will report them to the Chapter. 

Of course, until they tell Triss this, she is deeply suspicious and goes on to talk about the mushrooms Witchers have access to which are extremely unique. 

“Of course, thought Triss. They’re feeding her those legendary cave saprophytes – a mountain plant unknown to science – giving her the famous infusions of their mysterious herbs to drink. The girl is developing quickly, is acquiring a witcher’s infernal fitness. Naturally, without the mutation, without the risk, without the hormonal upheaval. But the magician must not know this. It is to be kept a secret from the magician. They aren’t going to tell me anything; they aren’t going to show me anything.”

Later:

“I don’t give a fig for your trust, witchers. There’s cancer out there in the world, smallpox, tetanus and leukaemia, there are allergies, there’s cot death. And you’re keeping your “mushrooms”, which could perhaps be distilled and turned into life-saving medicines, hidden away from the world. You’re keeping them a secret even from me, and others to whom you declare your friendship, respect and trust. Even I’m forbidden to see not just the Laboratorium, but even the bloody mushrooms!”

Triss as a mage has extreme bias against the Trials and for good reason! Most of the populace doesn’t have access to any information on the Trials outside of vague ideas but Mages have access to first hand accounts such as this from Blood of Elves: 

“On the third day all the children died save one, a male barely ten. Hitherto agitated by a sudden madness, he fell all at once into deep stupor. His eyes took on a glassy gaze; incessantly with his hands did he clutch at clothing, or brandish them in the air as if desirous of catching a quill. His breathing grew loud and hoarse; sweat cold, clammy and malodorous appeared on his skin. Then was he once more given elixir through the vein and the seizure it did return. This time a nose-bleed did ensue, coughing turned to vomiting, after which the male weakened entirely and became inert.

For two days more did symptoms not subside. The child’s skin, hitherto drenched in sweat, grew dry and hot, the pulse ceased to be full and firm – albeit remaining of average strength, slow rather than fast. No more did he wake, nor did he scream.

Finally, came the seventh day. The male awoke and opened his eyes, and his eyes were as those of a viper…”

~Carla Demetia Crest, The Trial of Grasses and other secret Witcher practices, seen with my own eyes, manuscript exclusively accessible to the Chapter of Wizards

When most people think of the Trials, they are thinking similarly to Queen Calanthe in Sword of Destiny. 

Here is what Calanthe says to Geralt when talking about what he might do with his child surprise: 

“You are astonished,’ she stated. ‘Well, I’ve studied a little. Since Pavetta’s child has the chance of becoming a witcher, I went to great pains. My sources, Geralt, reveal nothing, however, regarding how many children in ten withstand the Trial of the Grasses. Would you like to satisfy my curiosity in this regard?’

‘O Queen,’ Geralt said, clearing his throat. ‘You certainly went to sufficient pains in your studies to know that the code and my oath forbid me from even uttering that name, much less discussing it.’

Calanthe stopped the swing abruptly by jabbing a heel into the ground. ‘Three, at most four in ten,’ she said, nodding her head in feigned pensiveness. 

‘A stringent selection, very stringent, I’d say, and at every stage. First the Choice and then the Trials. And then the Changes. How many youngsters ultimately receive medallions and silver swords? One in ten? One in twenty?”

Later Calanthe asks Geralt:

“Do you believe a Child of Destiny would pass through the Trials without danger?’

‘We believe such a child would not require the Trials.’

‘One question, Geralt. Quite a personal one. May I?’

He nodded.

‘There is no better way to pass on hereditary traits than the natural way, as we know. You went through the Trials and survived. So if you need a child with special qualities and endurance… Why don’t you find a woman who… I’m tactless, aren’t I? But I think I’ve guessed, haven’t I?’

‘As usual,’ he said, smiling sadly, ‘you are correct in your deductions, Calanthe. You guessed right, of course. What you’re suggesting is impossible for me.’

‘Forgive me,’ she said, and the smile vanished from her face. ‘Oh, well, it’s a human thing.’

‘It isn’t human.’

‘Ah… So, no witcher can—’

‘No, none. The Trial of the Grasses, Calanthe, is dreadful. And what is done to boys during the time of the Changes is even worse. And irreversible.”

Later:

“The risks are too great,’ Geralt said quickly. ‘As you said. At most, four out of ten survive.’

‘Dammit, is only the Trial of the Grasses hazardous? Do only potential witchers take risks? Life is full of hazards, selection also occurs in life, Geralt. Misfortune, sicknesses and wars also select. Defying destiny may be just as hazardous as succumbing to it. Geralt… I would give you the child. But… I’m afraid, too.’

Then in The Last Wish, Geralt describes his own experiences with The Trials:

“Kaer Morhen…That's where the likes of me were produced. It's not done anymore; no one lives in Kaer Morhen now. No one but Vesemir. Who's Vesemir? My father. Why are you so surprised? What's so strange about it? Everyone's got a father, and mine is Vesemir. And so what if he's not my real father? I didn't know him, or my mother. I don't even know if they're still alive, and I don't much care.

“Yes, Kaer Morhen. I underwent the usual mutation there, through the Trial of Grasses, and then hormones, herbs, viral infections. And then through them all again. And again, to the bitter end. Apparently, I took the changes unusually well; I was only ill briefly. I was considered to be an exceptionally resilient brat…and was chosen for more complicated experiments as a result. They were worse. Much worse. But, as you see, I survived. The only one to live out of all those chosen for further trials. My hair's been white ever since. Total loss of pigmentation. A side effect, as they say. A trifle.

“Then they taught me various things until the day when I left Kaer Morhen and took to the road. I’d earned my medallion, the Sign of the Wolf's School. I had two swords: silver and iron, and my conviction, enthusiasm, incentive and…faith. Faith that I was needed in a world full of monsters and beasts, to protect the innocent. As I left Kaer Morhen, I dreamed of meeting my first monster. I couldn't wait to stand eye to eye with him. And the moment arrived.”

So looking at this process, according to the books the way a Witcher becomes, well a Witcher looks like this:

There is the Choice which is the decision to become a Witcher made when you are a child

Eat a lot of magic mushrooms that give you the strength and ability Witchers are known for 

Then the Trial of the Grasses which is a concoction of mutagenic elixirs injected into the bloodstream which mutates you into a Witcher 

Then finally there are the Changes. This is a big step and one that requires a mage. This is when the hormones are changed and a Witcher becomes permanently sterile

then there is training until you earn your medallion and BOOM, out onto the path with you

This is why it’s such a big deal that Triss was brought to Kaer Morhen. Without a mage, someone cannot become a full Witcher and Triss believed that was why she was there. Of course, this wasn’t true but it’s a valid concern to have. 

One thing I want to note, there is absolutely NOTHING in the text that says that being a Witcher is limited to any sort of gender boundary. The fact that Triss so readily jumped to Ciri becoming a Witcher and the fact that Geralt didn’t specify  boys until he was talking about the sterilization process...well, there is a likelihood female Witchers actually existed. 

Again, in the books Witchers are a dying breed and you can literally count on one hand the number of Witchers we meet. Of course, considering mages are the ones who made Witchers, it makes sense that female Witchers are either strongly discouraged, banned or simply not talked about. 

One big point Triss has against Ciri’s training is that she won’t “develop” correctly like a woman “should” due to the mushrooms and harsh training and considering how so many northern mages place importance on beauty I could definitely see mages not wanting to have female Witchers, considering it a “perversion”. 

Just a fun thought I often have about the books that I haven’t seen anyone point out. 

So overall, here is what the books have to say about the Trials, it’s a touch different from the games but I find this very fascinating and interesting. Let me know if you want me to do a specific topic or relationship next, but for now, thanks for reading!

[tanoraqui]

There actually are enough good fics about postcanon tentative reforging of assorted pairs and even the whole of the Gusu Summer School No Brain Cell Trio to satisfy my niche itch, so pls enjoy these stray snippets of a fic I don't have to write:

Nothing would've happened if the cultivation conference wasn't at Cloud Recesses. But it was, Cloud Recesses with its pale stone and gracefully winding walkways and too many memories, including Lan Xichen sitting the whole thing out in seclusion somewhere... If it'd been at the Unclean Realm, Nie Huaisang would've been busy and if it'd been at Carp Tower the memories only would've been manageably bad, and if it was Lotus Pier or one of many smaller sects, it would've been...fine. Just fine.

But it was Cloud Recesses this year, this first conference since Jin Guangyao's downfall, and specifically it was half past ten at night, and Nie Huaisang was wandering the elegant pathways with a mostly full jar of wine in one hand. The previous jar, now entirely empty, had been left back in his room. He was a Nie, so he was only half as drunk as he'd always used to pretend at these things - but at least twice as drunk as he'd ever actually been.

After da-ge's death, of course. Before that, he used to get plenty drunk. Playfully drunk. With friends.

It would be a terrible idea for him to go appear on Lan Xichen's doorstep. Neither of them was ready for that yet.

So he appeared on Jiang Cheng's.

[ . . . ]

"Fine." Nie Huaisang pouted and turned. "I'll go ask Wei-xiong - "

And Jiang Cheng was easy, he was so easy, he'd always been easy, the only new thing is the faintest edge of wariness to his fury -

He grabbed Nie Huaisang's elbow in a flash and snapped, "Ugh, fine, I'll go - but I'm holding the wine."

Nie Huaisang laughed and handed it over. Jiang Cheng immediately took a deep swig.

[ . . . ]

It must've been a quiet night at the Jingshi. Wei Wuxian's sleeping robes didn't look the least bit hastily pulled on, and his lips were only the slightest bit red and puffy.

[ . . . ]

[for the record, this takes place in a book-show postcanon fusion wherein immediately post-Guanyin Temple, WWX and LWJ ran off to fuck in the bushes at least once a day for as long as possible, but in their absence, various sect leaders voted that Lan Wangji should be Chief Cultivator now, and alas some messenger caught up with them about six months into their honeymoon. Definitely caught them in flagrante delicto. Tragic for all. I’d probably communicate all this hereish somehow. It was definitely NHS who finally tipped someone off on how to actually find them.]

[ . . . ]

"Yes, yes, I'm coming," Wei Wuxian said, with a lidded look at Nie Huaisang, and Nie Huaisang burst into a giggles because the two most unequivocally lethal people he knew were afraid to leave each other alone with him, and it was satisfying to be recognized but also what's he going to do, personally? Cry at them? It'd taken him years to destroy Jin Guangyao, and at this point it'd take him months, if not years again to re-destroy the Yiling Patriarch, much less Sandu Shengshou. Especially when they both kept doing things like watching each others backs while pretending they weren't.

[ . . . ]

"Of course we need more!" Wei Wuxian declared. "This isn't even Emperor's Smile!"

[ . . . ]

"It's just a rat or something," Jiang Cheng scoffed.

"So?!" Wei Wuxian cried grandly. "Are we not noble cultivators? Is it not our duty to investigate this woman's complaint, and to slay whatever monster plagues her good inn’s wonderful cellar, whether deathly or monstrous or rodential it be?" He turned to Nie Huaisang and begged, "Help me out, Nie-xiong. You agree with me, right?"

Nie Huaisang clutched his cup against his chest, eyes wide, and shook his head in sharp jerks. "I don't know! I don't know!"

Wei Wuxian laughed and elbowed him in the side.

[ . . . ]

[while waiting for Wei Wuxian to send some sort of signal]

"You know I don't bear any grudge against Jin Ling, right?"

Jiang Cheng's impatient glare snapped to him, darkening with threat; his hand shifted on Sandu's hilt toward a drawing position. "What?"

"I don't bear any sort of grudge against Jin Ling," Nie Huaisang repeated, holding only the last jar of Emperor's Smile. "That's why you've been side-eyeing me all night, right? All conference." He took another sip (it really was the best!) and added recklessly, "If I wanted Jin Ling dead and disgraced, or all Carp Tower burned to ash, they already would be."

Sandu slid an inch out of its scabbard and Nie Huaisang watch it with fascinated curiosity. From a greater distance, he wondered if that was entirely healthy.

"What about Lotus Pier?" Jiang Cheng asked abruptly.

It took Nie Huaisang a blinking moment to focus on him.

"What about Lotus Pier?"

Jiang Cheng sat beside him on the cold earth and yanked the jar out of his hands, cruelly before Nie Huaisang could take another sip.

"Where's your grand terrible vengeance against me and mine? I get it, but if you're being honest for once right now, you could at least tell me when it's going to hit, and how."

"What?" Nie Huaisang pushed himself against his tree trunk, genuinely confused. "Why would i have a terrible vengeance planned against you?"

"I benefitted from Nie Mingjue's death, didn't I?" Jiang Cheng took another swig of wine of his own, and swung the jar illustratively. "My disciples have hunted in your territory while you 'weren't paying attention.' I absolutely fleeced you in that trade deal four years ago. And I worked with that bastard as much as anyone but Lan Xichen, especially on those damn watchtowers, and you broke him. So when's it my turn?" He pointed at Nie Huaisang, finger only wavering slightly. “If you fuck with Jin Ling, Wei Wuxian, or my sect, I will fuck you back.”

"You- oh, gimme that. Gimme. Gimme!" Nie Huaisang leaned forward and tried to grab the wine jar, and more importantly whined until Jiang Cheng handed it to him.

He stared at it for a moment, thrust it back and ordered, “Drink,” without letting it go, and once Jiang Cheng had dutifully tilted it back, pulled it back and slugged down the last swallows. He needed more alcohol for this much honesty, and so did Jiang Cheng.

He set the jar down very carefully, because the ground seemed to be moving, and leaned forward with even more care. He enunciated clearly, “Everyone fleeced me, and hunted in my territory, and I acsh- ass- let them. Why would I expect you to go looking for trouble with Jin Guangyao, when he had your heart locked in a box in his treasure room?”

Jiang Cheng, who was a respected master of all five arts but probably hadn’t actually read poetry for fun since an instructor had officially declared him as such, and who was himself at least a full wine jar in, squinted in angry confusion.

Nie Huaisang rolled his eyes. “He had final say over where and how Jin Ling spent his time, and could’ve tried to poison him against you. What would you have even have done if I had come complaining?”

Jiang Cheng’s face only fell further, with the very sort of drunken moroseness Nie Huaisang was out here to avoid.

Nie Huaisang attempted to swap him sharply. He failed on both the swap and the sharpness. 

“Stoppit! Stop thinking you’re not useful! You weren’t! I needed to pry er-ge away from him and for that only Lan Wangji would work, and I needed someone to watch his back through thick and deadly thin, and to be so disruptive that even Meng Yao couldn’t...circle, sneaky, planning...”

They were waiting for the pulse of a light talisman from the other tunnel entrance, half a mile away. There was a small but very bright explosion. laced with resentful as well as spiritual energy.

“Motherfucker!” Jiang Cheng cursed, leaping to his feet and drawing Sandu in one hideously coordinated motion. 

“Just Lan Wangji, I think,” Nie Huaisang said, because Nie Mingjue himself couldn’t have stopped him. He groped for his own weapons - fan, check; wine jar - 

“Oh no!” 

“What?”  Jiang Cheng snapped, as he bent and dragged Nie Huaisang to his feet with one hand. (Hideously coordinated. Sword people, honestly...)

“He’s going to be so mad that we finished the wine without him!”

[ . . . ]

[three grown-ass men, two sect leaders and one Yiling Patriarch, flying at high speed through Caiyi Town on one sword, all screaming. Nie Huaisang is clinging to Wei Wuxian; Wei Wuxian is flinging to Jiang Cheng, a little bit to Nie Huaisang, and most importantly to a chicken, Jiang Cheng is flying the sword. There is a bedsheet draped over all of them from where they ran into a laundry line. It’s 2am. Again I say, all are screaming]

[ . . . ]

[it probably wasn’t a rat - not just one, at least. Wei Wuxian does something incredibly clever, possibly including a creative use of that bedsheet; Jiang Cheng singlehandedly defeats something in combat, probably after he and Wei Wuxian shove each other out of the way of blows without either of them acknowledging it. Nie Huaisang shoves them both under cover and then with perfect professionalism tells whoever came to check on the ruckus that they handled the problem exactly as planned with absolutely no involvement of alcohol, and the Chief Cultivator will foot the bill for the unfortunately absolutely necessary property damage. Overall, they did handle the problem, but the local cryptid they were chasing will only have its reputation swelled and its continued existence assumed by all locals. it is possible that they themselves made this cryptid up two decades ago, but idk how heavy-handed we want to be.]

[ . . . ]

Nie Huaisang was leaning heavily on Wei Wuxian by the time they got back to the guest quarters. He could hold his alcohol, he was a goddamn Nie, and frankly he’d had it adrenalined out of him at least twice this evening. But he’d also had rather a lot, and he didn’t have Jiang Cheng’s golden core or Wei Wuxian’s blithe lack of sleep schedule. 

“I missed this,” he admitted, head on Wei Wuxian’s (Mo Xuanyu’s) shoulder while Jiang Cheng opened the door.

Wei Wuxian leaned his head on Nie Huaisang’s. “Me too.”

“You’re both fucking annoying,” Jiang Cheng grouched, which meant, Me too.

Wei Wuxian stripped off Nie Huaisang’s muddy outer robe and tucked him into bed, and Jiang Cheng poured a glass of water from the pitcher by the door, drank it, poured another, scowled at Wei Wuxian for a moment, and set it on the bedside table. Wei Wuxian glanced at him out of the corner of his eye, finished with Nie Huaisang and started backing out of the room.

Nie Huaisang sat up more or less abruptly. “Both of you have got to stop that bullshit. I miss my brothers, okay? I’d I had a second chance...” He sagged back down with the plural, and flung an arm over his damp eyes. There was a glimmer in the sky; it’d be morning by Lan standards soon. “I fucking miss them.”

“...Ah,” said Wei Wuxian, who always spoke even when he didn’t know what to say.

“Yeah,” Jiang Cheng said abruptly, and, “Drink your fucking water.” And the door slammed behind him as he walked out.

[...a few lines of dialogue later...]

“Seriously, you can go.” Nie Huaisang flicked a few tired fingers in dismissal.

“Are you sure?” Wei Wuxian added with an audible smirk, “Because if I stay up for another half hour, I can wake Lan Zhan with a morning...big ol’...loving...”

Nie Huaisang finally adjusted his arm to crack one eye up at him.

“People usually cut me off before I get that far,” Wei Wuxian admitted.

[ . . . a bit more dialogue and the end.]

[ninzied]

into the woods

based on the prompt: you know that scene in TWD where shane is being all cute and kissing up lori’s stomach? that but make it kastle.

rated m. 3k.

“She should’ve been back by now.”

Frank scours the tree line along their campsite, as if she’ll walk out of there any second. She hadn’t taken much more than a toothbrush with her, only a hand towel and a bottle of water to rinse off. How much longer does she need with those things?

“You worry a lot,” Sarah remarks. She doesn’t look up, measuring out coffee grounds for their pour-over stand. “For someone who’s ‘just friends’ with her.”

“Remind me again why I agreed to this weekend,” Frank says with a scowl.

“I could use a refresher myself,” says David. He’s emerging from their tent, zipping it back up the side before stretching. “From what I recall, Karen’s the one we invited. You’re the one who chose to tag along.”

Frank arches an eyebrow at their surroundings. “Thought my invite was implied.”

David makes a protesting sound. “You don’t have a monopoly on manly activities, you know.” He comes over to Sarah, drops a kiss on her forehead in greeting before taking one of the lawn chairs next to her. “I can camp. I can do camping. I’m a survival guy too, remember?”

“Ignore him,” says Sarah. “He gets grumpy before his morning coffee.” She leans over their fire and removes the kettle of water, which has just started to boil.

“There’s one thing we have in common,” says Frank. He nods his head toward the tent David vacated. “Kids still down for the count?”

“Both of them out like a light,” David confirms. “That ghost story Karen told them last night worked a little too well.”

“Trouble falling asleep?” asks Frank, not unsympathetically. “Or was it nightmares?”

“Leo came up with a sequel, actually,” says David. “Which she insisted on recounting in very vivid detail. None of us really slept after that.” He scrubs a hand tiredly over his eyes, but he’s also grinning a little, like he can’t help but be proud of this fact.

Karen would be proud too, Frank thinks, and pictures the smile he’ll get from her later.

“How about you?” Sarah asks Frank, her tone perfectly, deceptively innocent. “How did you sleep?”

“Fine,” says Frank.

The look Sarah gives her husband is a lot subtler than the one she receives in return.

Frank clears his throat. “You two got something you want to say?”

David shrugs. “Only that it’s a pretty small tent you and Karen are sharing.”

“We made do,” says Frank.

Truth be told, though, David’s not wrong.

Karen had borrowed the tent from Nelson, who, as it turned out, hadn’t gone camping since he was about ten years old. It had been a tight squeeze—that palpable warmth in the thin sheets between them, the soft little sighs Karen let out in her sleep, had all been nothing short of torture to Frank.

But the Liebermans are on a need-to-know basis only.

David is opening his mouth to say something else when Sarah interrupts him. “Here,” she says, “drink this,” and presses a tin of steaming black coffee into his hands.

“Guests first,” says David, but Frank’s already standing.

“I’m good for now,” he says with a wave of his hand. “I’m just gonna go for a walk.” He stoops down, checks for the blade inside of his boot.

“Karen’s a big girl, you know.” David takes a sip of his coffee. “I just don’t see how this is going to win you any points in her book.”

“Oh, let him go,” Sarah chides. “He’s not going to rest easy otherwise.” She calls cheerfully after Frank, “Tell Karen that coffee will be waiting when you guys get back, all right?”

…

If anything, Frank figures he could use the time away from the others.

Last night had been exhausting, with the Liebermans up for about half of it, and then Karen so close yet just out of reach. He’d behaved himself perfectly well, but the ache of all that longing for more hasn’t left him, and so he tries to walk it off instead.

Frank steps into the trees, the morning sun filtering through in soft, muted patches of light. They’re barely into September, but the leaves here have already started to pack themselves down into the ground. It makes his job easier, tracking which way Karen has gone.

She can take care of herself; he knows that. But she knows he’s going to worry. It’s something that they’re working on, meeting each other halfway. Still, Frank reasons that there’s a time and a place for these kinds of concessions, and out here in the woods is not going to be one of them.

Frank has been walking for about ten minutes when he steps into a snug little clearing, and suddenly, she’s there.

“Karen?”

She’s a few yards ahead of him, lounging with her back against the trunk of a large maple. She’s resting her arm on one of its thick, gnarled roots, and she—

She has her nose in a goddamn book.

It’s a small paperback of Agatha Christie. One of those rare finds that she’d unearthed from the half-price bin down the street from Frank’s place. It’s where she��d gotten her inspiration for the ghost story she told them last night.

Frank knows this because she’d read it aloud to him three nights ago. The book hasn’t left her side of the bed, until she packed it for this trip. She must’ve tucked it into her hand towel before leaving their tent earlier.

Karen glances up as he approaches. She doesn’t seem remotely surprised to see him there. In fact, she’s looking at him with a teasing kind of impatience, like he’s kept her waiting, and—

Oh.

Oh.

He’d been planning to steal a kiss or two at most from her before they headed back to camp, but she clearly has more than that on her mind.

Always two steps ahead of him, his girl, and he wonders if that isn’t one of the things he loves most about her.

“Frank,” she greets him, lightly admonishing. She puts the book down. “What took you so long?”

She stands as he strides over to her, a disbelieving smile turning up the corners of his mouth.

“This what I think it is?” he asks her. He palms the sides of her rib cage, walking her slowly backward until he’s pinned her to the tree.

“Mm.” She winds her arms a little slyly around him. “You know solving murder mysteries always gets me in the mood.”

“You mean like last night?” He leans down, capturing her mouth in a kiss. Her hands are already pulling at the hem of his sweatshirt, gliding up his body and tugging the fabric over his head.

“I’ve been dying here, Frank.” Karen gasps out as his mouth moves over her jawline. “I thought they’d never fall asleep.”

“I know. Fuck.” Frank snakes his hands beneath her clothes and under her bra, cupping her breasts with a small but satisfied groan. “Couldn’t take it either. Wanted you so bad.” He remembers the reason for the Liebermans’ insomnia, and the kiss he presses to Karen’s collarbone contains the definite edge of a smile.

“What?”

“Tell you later,” he murmurs, stepping back and pulling her with him. With the toe of his boot, he carefully rearranges his sweatshirt over a stretch of some soft-looking moss.

Karen breathes out a laugh, nudging a kiss to his ear as she asks him, “Exactly how much time do you think we have?”

“Enough,” he says, and lowers her onto his sweatshirt.

He kneels over her, nosing her shirt out of the way as he deposits open-mouthed kisses up her bare stomach. He pauses over her belly button, circling his tongue there. She tenses all over with a sigh of content before shrugging her top off and tossing it to the side.

He licks a trail up her body, feeling the hitch in her breath as he reaches her rib cage. When she clasps his shoulders, he goes willingly, rising and settling himself over her. Their mouths meet, lips parting instantly, deepening the kiss.

“Mm—” Karen moves her hips into his, chasing the friction between them. She’s in a thin pair of leggings, his erection pressed up against the junction of her thighs. He can feel the heat of her, even through his sweatpants, and it only fuels his arousal, has him aching to be inside her right now.

He groans a little, breaking the kiss for a moment. There’s a few breathless seconds of them fumbling with each other’s clothes, of Frank’s vision tunneling out when she reaches down and grasps him.

Christ.

He pumps himself in and out of her hand, bending over to kiss her again. Their tongues slide together, and he swallows the sound of her cry as he slips two fingers down, feeling how wet she is for him.

His mouth falls to her neck, sucking kisses to her pulse point as he replaces her hand with his. He strokes himself before rubbing the full length of his dick up against her, pressing down into her clit with each pass back and forth.

She arches against him with a throaty little sigh. He loves this kind of foreplay with her—the liquid heat of anticipation, the throbbing ache of that sweet almost just on the other side of this moment.

And fuck does he love watching her this way, too. The soft, breathy exhales, the swell of her breasts as she writhes beneath him. The way she bites her lip, and moans.

“Can you come like this?” he asks her, voice roughened with desire. He knows he won’t last long inside her, and he wants her to finish for him at least once.

“Yes.” She’s moving her hips in tandem with his, finding just the angle she likes, the right press and release to send her over the edge into orgasm. “Yes—oh, Frank—yes—mmm—”

She shudders beneath him, her eyes squeezing shut as her mouth falls open in a silent, rapturous oh.

He kisses gently up and down her throat as she descends from her high, slowly relaxing back into him. Frank’s trying to breathe through his own need for release when she threads her fingers through his hair, coaxing his mouth back to hers.

He slides into her slowly, the air between them going shallow as they take a moment to adjust. In some ways, entering her is always going to feel like it’s the very first time, new and yet so familiar. Like the act of loving this woman comes from a place that goes deeper than memory.

Their mouths move together, unhurried, as he pulls out and sinks back in. She clutches his shoulders, pulling him closer. Each thrust of his hips has his body shifting up against hers, and he savors every inch of it, the feel of skin on skin. He cradles an arm around her head, moving his other down to slide a hand up the back of her thigh.

It has him going deeper, and she clenches around him, spine arching back. Fuck. Fuck, she feels incredible, like some kind of fever dream. Her mouth is so very warm on his, their tongues entwined, their kisses splintering apart on a gasp before they’re coming back together.

For these few blissed out moments, this is all that there is. The two of them wrapped into each other, all that soft, pale skin beneath his hands, the little moans she’s letting out as he pounds and pounds into her. It’s rougher than usual, but she only pulls him closer, hooking a leg around his waist and rolling her hips up to meet his.

Heat unfurls down low in his belly, pleasure clenching up his spine. “Karen—fuck, I—” He buries his face into the crook of her neck, trying to hold off for her as long as he can.

She turns into him, mouth finding his ear. “I’m close,” she breathes. “I’m close. It’s okay. Just—ooh—”

She cranes her head back with a soft, keening sound, and he wraps his hand over the side of her neck, kissing up her jawline. He rides her through her second orgasm, and then his own pleasure builds to his breaking point, and he’s coming apart.

Karen’s arms are around him when the strongest waves have subsided, leaving behind the small, lingering shivers. He finally collapses against her, boneless and spent, simply breathing her in for long seconds.

“Fuck.” He brushes his mouth over her shoulder, nudging her bra strap back in place. “That was…” He grunts a little as she turns them onto their side, draping a leg over his waist.

“It was,” she agrees. She looks even softer in the sunlight from this angle, and Frank inches closer, threading his fingers through the golden glow of her hair. “Guess we should head back soon. Before they call an official search party on us.”

“Guess so,” says Frank. He tightens his arms around her, and she snuggles into him, neither of them making any real attempt to move. She gives him a kiss, long, and sweet, and so indescribably tender that he could put down roots into this moment, never let it go.

Finally, with a small sigh of concession, Karen shifts up onto her elbow. She reaches behind him for something, retrieving the bottle she’d brought with her.

She bends down to kiss the crease between his brows, and smiles. “Water?”

…

They walk back to the campsite hand in hand.

Sarah’s cleaning up from breakfast, a thermos of coffee and a full plate of bacon, eggs and toast set aside for them.

“David took the kids down to the lake,” she tells them without turning her head. “They wanted to wait for you, but I told them you’d see them when you got back.”

“’Course,” says Frank, feeling a little pink in the ears. “Yeah. Sorry. Didn’t mean to make you stay behind for us.”

“It was no trouble,” Sarah says breezily. Then, still with her back turned to them, she adds, inscrutable, “Better me than David, I will tell you that.”

She’s still stacking some plates, so Frank sneaks a last kiss to Karen’s temple before he releases her, making his way over to some much-needed coffee. He takes a long drag as Karen goes to help Sarah, the two of them falling into easy conversation about Leo, her writing ambitions, how absorbed she’d been around the campfire last night.

He doesn’t interrupt them, except to come over with the plate of food for Karen. Predictably, she reaches for the coffee instead. “I’ll have something in a bit,” she says, “promise,” and he gives her a look, but decides not to press the issue with Sarah standing so shrewdly nearby.

At one point, he glances up from a piece of bacon just as Sarah reaches over, and plucks part of a leaf from Karen’s hair. Sarah lets it go without so much as a comment, simply continuing on wherever they’d left off.

Later, Sarah passes by Frank as they’re getting ready to leave. “I think there are grass stains on the back of your sweater,” she mentions to him, almost conversationally, and he hesitates a moment before grabbing a hoodie to change into.

He pulls out the sandwich he’d made from their breakfast and passes it over to Karen on the walk, in exchange for the thermos of coffee. His hand instinctively finds the small of her back every time a rock or large root juts up into their path, and after Karen’s done eating she takes his hand instead, twining their fingers together.

If Sarah’s feeling smug about it, she doesn’t let it show—much.

Leo tackles them both as soon as they’ve made it to the lake. “Hey, Pete!” Then, as if she can’t hold it in any longer, she brandishes a notebook and says, “Karen, I have the best idea for a story tonight.”

“Honey,” Sarah starts, with an amused kind of warning in her tone.

“Don’t worry, Mom,” says Leo, looking confident. “This one’s not nearly as scary.”

“Tell me,” says Karen, unable to suppress a smile.

Leo starts to tug her away when she pivots back on her heel a little, and says to Frank matter-of-factly, “By the way, you probably don’t want Zach to see you two holding hands.” She looks meaningfully out onto the water, where Zach and their dad are focused enough on their lines not to have noticed them all there yet.

“Leo Lieberman,” Sarah scolds gently as Frank exchanges a bemused look with Karen.

“He’s too young to find out what heartbreak feels like,” says Leo sagely. “Sorry, Mom. I know you told him she’s already been spoken for. But as his big sister, it’s my job to look out for him.”

“Fair enough,” says Karen, giving Sarah a wink. There’s a wistful quality to her smile now, her gaze soft on his when Frank squeezes her hand. She clears her throat, and gestures down at Leo’s notebook. “Now let’s see what we’re working with here.”

…

Their tent isn’t quite big enough to fit them in lengthwise, so they’re turned slightly sideways, Frank spooning her as they drift off to sleep. He’s hard against her rear in the morning, but they both do their best to live with it, Karen pressing a chaste little kiss to the corner of his mouth as they’re getting dressed.

David’s on coffee duty, and Frank lends a hand as Karen folds herself up in a chair and reads to them the morning headlines on her phone.

It’s slow, and quiet, and so easy that Frank almost forgets they’re not home. Karen hums out a thank you when he brings her some coffee, stooping down to brush a kiss to her forehead.

“Here you go, sweetheart.”

And it’s like any other morning, except this one has David staring at them like he can’t decide what has just happened, and just how long it’s been happening for.

“Blanket?” Karen offers, trying not to look too amused, as Frank drags a chair close to hers. She tosses it over them, and he takes her hand before leaning over to steal a sip of her coffee.

“Did you know about this?” David whispers urgently to his wife when she steps out.

“Know about what, honey?” asks Sarah, kissing his cheek as he frowns at her. “Why, did you see something?”

“You mean other than the obvious?” He gestures at Frank, who’s leaning in to whisper something to Karen. In his periphery, a look of recognition is dawning on David’s face with almost comical slowness. “Shit. You’re right. It was really obvious, wasn’t it.”

Sarah pats him on the shoulder. “So, what are we doing for breakfast today?”

And just like any other morning, Frank feels everything outside of this moment fade, his world narrowing to the small, private things—the warmth of Karen’s hand in his, the glances they steal at each other, and the way she bites her lip when she’s trying not to smile.

[batarella]

3 birds 1 stone - BLUE

From a world once so cruel, that never seemed to have granted them the time enough to be together, it’d never built up into anything more perfect.

WORDS: 7785 WARNINGS: Sexual Content

MASTERLIST | 3 BIRDS 1 STONE MASTERLIST | RED | YELLOW

-----

Dick:

It was concerning how at the moment he stepped into the narrow elevator, he wasn’t the least bit surprised at the pile of animal shit at the corner. It wasn’t until the doors closed when he noticed it, or rather his nose did, and he had to clog his nostrils just so he doesn’t pass out on the floor.

“Gar!?” he yelled just as the doors opened. No one was there, save for Raven with a book sitting at the couch. She didn’t glance at him. “Gar, I swear if you took a shit in the elevato-“

“That wasn’t me!”

Gar’s voice came from the kitchen, panting and occupied with something unruly. Then he heard plates falling to the floor, breaking, then there was a whimper. Not one that came from a human.

“Then who was it!?”

His question was soon answered, when a dog, a brown-furred mutt, sprinted out into the living room with a strip of bacon lodged in its teeth. “Gar!”

“I told you!”

Gar came out of the kitchen with a leash that had been ripped. “It wasn’t me!”

“You brought a dog into the tower?!”

“It was hungry!”

The mutt had finished off the bacon and headed straight for Raven’s lap. She gave it a scratch under its ear.

“Not on the couch,” Dick said.

“But Dick-“

“You’re not allowed on the couch either,” he told Gar. The boy murmured something Dick couldn’t hear, and after a second, no longer was he a boy but a green parrot. It squealed against Dick’s ear before it flew to Raven’s book.

“Jesus-“ he rubbed his ear. “I’m not in the mood.”

“SQUAWK-,” the parrot said. “WHAT’S UP WITH YOU?”

Having some coherent answer to that would only cement it as some grueling reminder. Hell, even thinking about it hurts more than the coward’s way out of pretending the past year never even happened. But then again, here he was, back in the Titan’s Tower to escape from the love of his life he could never be with and force himself into this infernal damnation of having forever to get over her. Here. Thousands of miles away. Where he’d only have his thoughts to battle and nothing else.

But all he said was: “Nothing.”

Dick should have told her, at least. Given her that kind of closure instead of his current disappearing act without so much as a note or a text or even a notice memo at the manor’s announcement board, which Alfred insisted with there being eight kids around.

But being away will be good. For her. For him. The first step to moving on. And with that, cutting all ties. Make it hurt less for both of them.

Maybe not all ties. He’ll have to go back to Gotham soon enough. But at least he was trying something. Not like the past five, six, seven years. God, has it really been that long?

She was probably over at Tim’s office, or Jason’s apartment doing whatever. Thinking about it won't do him any good. Doesn’t mean he subconsciously won’t.

It was apparent, and out into full consciousness, when he pulled out his phone and saw her name in five missed calls, with voice messages she’s left behind. A whole lot of minutes of them, too, it seems. She’d called while he was on the plane.

He could listen to them. Hear her voice one last time. Let his mind trail away. God, he was pathetic.

Dick put it up to his ear, his other hand stuffed to his pockets as he went out to the tower’s highest balcony so at least the air wasn’t so stuffy and he wouldn’t choke so much.

He wasn’t even nervous when he heard her speak. “Hey, Dick.”

A plane. A helicopter. Some folks over at the apartment building nearby partying it out. At least he’d have something to look at. He was exhausted, too. It was eight am over at Gotham. Shouldn’t have taken the overnight flight.

“You weren’t at the manor. I tried calling there first. I wanted to see you. Call me when you get this?”

He might. After he listens to the four other messages she’d left behind.

“Hey. I know it’s only been an hour. But please call me.”

Another one.

“Dick, where are you? I hope you didn’t change your phone. or I’ll look stupid leaving all these messages behind, which I’m not about to stop doing. Call me. Please. No one knows where you are but no one’s panicking either. It’s worrying me.”

Next one. From another hour after. He’d been gone a little over ten hours since he left. If Bruce didn’t have a tracker on him, they’d have called the police by now. But he highly doubted Bruce would take the time to announce his little trip to the West Coast to everyone in the house.

“Dick, if this is you ignoring me, you’re doing a hell of a good job at it. Did I do something?”

He heard her huff over the phone. No one else seemed to be around her.

“Please, I just wanna talk. Call me.”

The last one. Sent just four hours ago, which meant she’d been awake at four in the morning.

And, on top of that, the last one was five whole minutes long.

A call to tell her she was dating Tim again? Explaining how there are no hard feelings? Catch a movie sometime? An ass of him to think she’d be that cruel, but he was jetlagged and exhausted and the smell of dog shit still hadn’t left, which could be explained because that mutt had made a home just a few feet away from where he stood.

Dick played the message despite all that. Even if she called to tell him she’s getting married. He’d answer it.

“Dick…”

He could hear the rain, sheets shuffling under her feet.

“I’m sorry…” she said. “I… I probably took too long… I guess, if you’re ignoring me, you still deserve to know. I hope you get this message. I’ll tell you now, I guess. So you won't have to respond if you don’t want to.”

Tears. He could hear her wipe them off her skin.

“I kept you waiting for… I wanna say months but it’s a lot longer than that. Years… God, and I didn’t even see it… I took too long trying to figure this all out for myself, and you just kept waiting for me. No one should be worth waiting for that long.”

He was laughing as if it were one of her god-awful jokes. Funnily enough, it was worth it. Even when it sent him nowhere in the end. All that waiting was worth it. Somehow.

“Which is why I don’t blame you. Because you shouldn’t have taken this long. I thought even if I took another few weeks before I’d have enough courage to finally ask you to be mine, you’d still be there waiting for me. Selfish as it is, but I guess that’s your fault, too. Spoiling me and whatnot. Now my expectations for men are out of hand. Sorry.”

She even fucking laughed all the while he could hear her biting back her sobs. If he were there, he’d hold her by the shoulders and squeeze the fucking sense back into her and tell her yes, I did wait for you, and I’d wait for you for a hundred more years if I had to but I know you love someone else and-

Wait.

Wait.

Wait.

Backtrack.

What the hell did she just say!?

“I mean, I’m…” she continued, completely ignoring his panic. Was there a rewind on this thing??? “The past two days all I did was read your letter. Over and over again, trying to find something I could have missed. I memorized it by now. I’m a wreck. I’m sorry. I know it’s all so complicated, but I can't stop thinking that if the timing had just been good to us the past few years, all this would have been so different.”

Shit, shit, shit, shit, SHIT, is she actually saying she-

“I’m so sorry, Dick…” she sighed. “I kept you waiting. But even if… even if you’re not anymore, I already made up my mind. I’ll be here. It’s my turn to wait for you. As long as it takes. I love yo-“

Something hit the back of his knees.

Which, unfortunately, with him not in some defensive stance, caught him in a rather vulnerable position.

And with that, Dick tumbled off his feet, almost fell off the railing, and failed to catch his phone from slipping right off his hands.

“NO!”

“DOWN BOY-SQUAWK!” Gar the parrot cried and followed the obnoxiously unruly dog running around the terrace. “SORRY, DICK!”

The dog kept running around and almost crashed to his feet twice with it being too fast even for Gar's supposedly swift wings, and if he wasn’t so frozen and horrified, watching his phone descend from almost a hundred stories above ground, he would have grabbed that mutt by the neck.

“GAR, I SWEAR TO GOD-“

“I’m sorry!” He turned back into a human and caught the dog. “It was him!”

“My fucking phone just fell over the railing!”

“Want me to go get it-“

A car alarm. He could hear it even from above. Or Gar did. Because he went to look over and caught sight of his phone breaking a car’s windshield below. He scratched the back of his neck. “Sorry.”

“I have to…” Dick pulled on his scalp. “I have to go call her.”

“Call who?!”

“Give me your phone!”

“I don’t have a phone!”

“Give me Raven’s phone!”

“She talks to people with her mind,” Gar twirled his finger against his temple. “She doesn’t need a phone!”

“Just get- UGH!”

He stormed back into the building. “Where the hell is everyone else!?”

“They’re all out of town!”

“So it’s just you and Raven in here?! Without adult supervision!?”

“Why do you think we got a dog into the building?!”

Said dog stuck his tongue out at him like it was just so awfully adorable.

“Ok, ok, ok, ok, ok.” He can do this. He can calm down. “I have to go back. Or call her at least.”

“You’re going back to Gotham now?!”

She said she’ll wait. But to hell with keeping her waiting. “Yes. I do. I’m going back now. As soon as I can call her and tell her I’m on my way-“

“I wouldn’t do that.”

Raven didn’t even look up from her book, legs up on the couch as seemingly relaxed as if the whole wreck of a home they lived in wasn’t a mess at all.

“Next flight to Gotham’s in an hour.” She levitated an apple to her mouth and took a bite. “And the one after that’s in two days.”

“Two days!?”

“Airline shutdown. Some strike is happening,” she pointed at the TV playing the news. “I’d hurry if I were you.”

“God fucking dammit-“

“Good luck.” Raven took another bite.

Of course. Of course, this would fucking happen.

But, fuck, he didn’t know if he should just leap out the window to keep up now that everything he’s ever wished for had finally come to be. Because, to his own beliefs up in the clouds, he could probably fly with just the flap of his measly arms.

Y/N chose him.

He left for the elevator, just before Gar stopped him for leaving his wallet, then he was sprinting his way back to the airport.

.

You:

“I already made up my mind,” you said to your phone as if there were anyone else on the other line. As if he was there, listening to you. And that in a few seconds, he’d respond.

“I’ll be here. It’s my turn to wait for you. As long as it takes. I love you, Dick.”

Quite haunting how easy it was for those words to just roll off your lips, because as much as you thought all this to be so complicated and difficult, it was the easiest thing you’ve ever had to say.

At four am, alone in your studio with all your lights off and your sheets in an unkempt mess. You stuck your knees so close to your chest, trying to conceal at least some kind of warmth against you. But even with it so easy, it didn’t mean it wasn’t hurting.

“I can't,” you stuck your palm to your forehead. “I know things are so hard between us… and this past year is just…”

You breathed, longer than you’d hoped, just to get enough air into your lungs just so you wouldn’t collapse.

“God, I don’t even know what to tell you anymore. It all just… It feels like it’s too late. Everything went so wrong between us and I can't stop but think maybe it’s the world saying we’re just not meant to be,” you swallowed. “And the scary thing is… I don’t even care.”

The blue rose you painted, staring back at you once so bright, but as the passing days of you still wondering if were brave enough to do this at all, it had dried up and was now blank, patronizing even, that maybe it just wasn’t right, even when you wanted it to be.

“I don’t care if it’s so complicated, I want you…”

On the bed, just by your feet, you locked your eyes onto Dick’s beautiful handwriting, some that had been smudged with the sweat from your hands with the paper now crumpled up after all those months of reading and rereading.

You closed your eyes.

“You sent me an awfully painful, heart-breaking letter,” you said. “This is my awfully painful, heart-breaking reply.”

.

‘I usually just say all this in my head. That’s when I get poetic. Sometimes I write it down. Most of the time, I try to paint them. I think of galaxies and meadows and skies and flowers and all that, metaphors as they are, but I’ll say everything I’ve got. Right now. Because you deserve to know that all those years of you thinking nothing could ever go how you wanted, that it could end being just that.

.

Dick:

“Hey.”

Hands on the counter, the attendant looked startled at the least.

“I need a ticket for the next flight to Gotham.”

“I’m sorry, sir,” she said, after taking a while to look at Dick’s handsome yet frantically uneasy face. “You just missed it-“

“I know, I know, I missed the last one.” The one that left just five minutes ago because of fucking California traffic. “But I need to get on the next one. Please.”

“All flights from San Francisco after the next hour are canceled I’m afraid.”

“Any connecting flights? Anything that leaves before that?”

“Sir, I-” she stretched her fingers. “I’ll look for something.”

His fingers, tapping onto the counter until the tip of his nails started to hurt.

“The best option’s a connecting flight to Denver, then to New York.”

“New York!?”

“Then there’s the railway transits to Gotham. I can book you a ticket for that, too.”

From a seven-hour flight to a seventeen-hour trip with layovers and a crowded train.

But as soon as he heard best option he pulled out his wallet quicker than when they told him his rent was three months overdue and that if he weren’t to pay the doorman that very instant they’d evict him.

He rushed to the first plane, closed his eyes, and prayed she hadn’t said anything in her voice message too important for him to miss out on.

.

‘The universe, or whatever it is out there that has a say in all this, they didn’t make it easy for us at all. If they did, we would have met long before we went too far into this mess. We were friends, sure, and you have no idea how much I value our friendship.

But I guess not even that friendship’s strong enough for us to deny what’s really going on. And that’s why it’s all so hard. I can't even look at you without thinking about kissing you, or holding you, or touching you. I can't hold your hand without wanting to never pull away. I can't even be in the same room with you and not stare, even when you’re just reading a book or talking to someone else. You are… you’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen, and you’re just as beautiful within, which is why it was so easy to love you, and so hard to keep it in.’

.

You:

Morning. Eleven am at that. You slept before the sun was up, at least. But you were up all night.

Nothing. Not a call, not even a text from him.

Everything shattered, and you were still half asleep. The next thing you did, and the next thing to do, was wrap yourself up with the thickest layer of your blanket and hide in the dark, even with it such a lovely day.

Another message wouldn’t be such a good idea if he still hadn’t opened the last five, which seemed highly unlikely with him gone for almost a day now.

A day. It had been a day.

But nothing on GCPD’s notices reported a missing person’s file of an utterly gorgeous, half-Romani hunk of a man in any of their websites. You called the manor, again. Still, there was nothing.

Twelve at noon. All you had for lunch was a bagel from three nights ago. It stuffed you, at least.

You sat at your dining table and stared at your phone.

If there was a moment for so much love to come crashing at once, it would all have been too great for that to be possible.

But the moment you realized it was there at all,

A few weeks ago. Steph’s birthday.

A party at the manor. It wasn’t much. Just a little get together with everyone at the parlor.

Everyone was talking, laughing, and frankly you wished you’d joined them. It looked like fun.

But instead, you were looking out the window, at the gardens white with melted snow and winds strong enough to knock the leaves out the branches. But you couldn’t hear any of that, which made it peaceful. It was the trees that danced, birds instead of planes that hovered over the sky, not a star above but perhaps it was because it was so full of clouds. It looked cold. Cold always looked so beautiful when you were looking out from the warmth of the inside.

Dick walked up to your side, just a reasonable distance away so he wouldn’t touch your shoulder, but close enough that you’d smell the jasmine from his neck.

“You’re just gonna stand out here and watch the glass fog up?”

You remembered laughing, probably at something else he’d said after that.

“It’s pretty when you look hard enough.”

And all the while, he didn’t pull your arm and drag you over at the crowd. He didn’t tell you to join them, to loosen up and have fun or have a drink or in any way stop you from what you were doing.

He just stood there and joined you, instead. Ditched his family. Didn’t even speak much.

He stood there because he wanted to. Because you staring out the window was more interesting to him than a whole crowd of kids doing whatever.

When he balled up his fist, covered it with his sleeve, and wiped the window right in front of you to rid it from the fog so you could see the gardens clearer, you knew you loved him.

Such a small act that was, but it was the finality of everything else that built up to that moment.

Then, you remembered what you told him last night, in a voice message that lasted way too long and sounded far too painful.

.

‘I don’t regret what I had with Tim… but I do regret not saying anything the past four years when I had the chance. You were there. You were there and I could never have had it any other way. When we’re not trying so hard for everything to be alright, everything’s at its best. I’m not even your girlfriend, and already I think about every minute I spend with you and laugh before I’m off to bed. I think about your jokes way too long than they should ever last. And your smile, god your smile, saying that that it’s all I could ever think about wouldn’t do it any justice. You have drawn out the ugliest laugh out of me that never should have come out of any human in existence. And frankly, I’m glad you do. Because just when I thought I could never smile again, you made me the happiest I could ever be.’

.

Dick:

Of all days. Of all times.

His survival rate at that point, rushing through Denver Airport with just a fifteen-minute layover period, with his shoelaces undone, probably wasn’t one he should have relied on. He was starving, but he had the appetite of a mammal in hibernation with the horrible airplane food costing a hundred dollars and everything else taking too long to prepare.

With just thirty seconds to spare, he fell to his too-narrow coach seat, shuffled along so his large ass-damn this cursed asset-would fit through the aisle and breathed just as the air hissed into the cabin after they closed the service door.

Head against the back of the seat, eyes up the ceiling, at the smoke that blew in through that gap outside the overhead locker, he ignored his dried skin, his dry mouth, his feet that were close to standing on a thousand knife tips, his eyes so close to just shutting out, his wallet painfully thin with this whole trip costing the equivalent of a round trip to Shanghai, and his whole body about to collapse. He hasn’t slept in twenty-four hours. It didn’t look like he was ever going to sleep at all.

And he hasn’t even called. God, what was she doing at home? Is she okay? Is she eating okay? Is she worried about him, staring at her phone wondering what she did wrong when she was nothing less of a perfect creation of all the gods that existed, an angel the earth didn’t deserve?

He really, really had to call.

Someone just sat next to him. A child. And next to him was his mother, who just put down her phone from a call.

“Excuse me.” Dick put on his award-winning smile, pretended he wasn’t sweating his balls off or that he was in any way close to psychological death, and hoped he looked the part as well.

“Yes?”

“Is it okay if I, uh, borrow your phone? I have to make a call. It’s sort of an emergency.”

“The plane’s about to take off.”

“It won't take long. I promise.”

He probably didn’t look as charming as he’d hoped. His hair was a mess not even a bird would settle into. The woman looked at him quizzically, up and down, and shrugged. Like it was handed to him on a silver plater, she gave him her phone.

The aircraft was about to take off. He only had so long.

He called Y/N’s number that he didn’t even know he memorized and settled back. It started ringing.

“MOM!”

The kid beside him. He was tugging on his mother’s shirt.

“MOM, I’M BORED.”

“We’re in a plane,-“

“I’M BORED. I WANNA PLAY ROBLOX-“

“Not now, we’re in a plane. Sit down.”

“GIVE ME YOUR PHONE-“

“That man has my phone.”

Fuck.

Y/N, fucking pick up.

“HEY, GIVE ME MY MOM’S PHONE BACK-“

“Kid, I hear ya. But you have to give me this one-“

“GIVE ME THE PHONE-“

That kid, a chubby one not older than six, stood up from his chair and was wild enough to grab Dick’s hand away from holding the phone up his ear. If he weren’t so desperate, he would have let him have it.

But god almighty, he’s never been as desperate as a starving man in a desert.

“Kid. Just one minute.”

“NO, GIVE ME!”

The mother put on a sleeping mask and faced the other way.

“KID-“

“GIVE ME MY PHONE-“

Back and forth, both grabbing onto the phone and the kid having the strength he did not at all expect, they ended up wrestling it out in the cramped-up economy seats until the kid was screaming out his ears.

He’s never looked so ridiculous but jokes on everyone else if they thought he could care less.

“Excuse me.”

An attendant, bags under her eyes and giving both of them, not just the kid, a dirty look.

“I’m sorry, sir, but the other passengers have complained about the noise. I’m gonna have to ask you to take your seat.”

“NO!” the kid screamed.

“DID YOU JUST BITE ME!?” Dick cried out.

“GIVE ME THE PHONE!”

“I NEED TO CALL SOMEONE!”

Dick grabbed the phone off his hands, palm to the kid’s face to stop him from reaching out to his outstretched arm. “Don’t you have some kind of coloring book you can give him?”

The attendant smiled, albeit forcefully, and walked back over to the back of the cabin. The kid did not stop trying to grab it off Dick’s arm.

She gave the kid a bag that probably had books and crayons and whatever stuffed inside. It looked so old. It had to have been in storage for the past ten years.

But as if some miracle heard him, the kid shut up, took the bag, and settled on his seat. Then he was as quiet as a mouse.

Fucking finally.

He held the phone up his ear and closed his eyes, fingers easing the tension on the nerve on his forehead.

“And sir?”

The attendant smiled at him. It didn’t look so much of a smile as it was a death threat.

“I’m gonna have to ask you to turn off your mobile device.”

To say he wanted to squeeze the life out of everyone in the whole aircraft, including himself, wouldn’t cut it.

And he didn’t even have it in him to protest.

“Hello?”

Her voice. At the other end of the line. That word was all there is to it, the only thing he heard.

Dick sighed, closed his eyes, counted to three, then ended the call after just two seconds.

The next thing he heard, for the next three hours, would be the screams of the child at his side, kicking on his seat like a fucking soccer ball.

.

‘That call from a year ago. The one about Kori. Fuck, I don’t even know where to begin. I overreacted. By a mile. Did some stupid shit to make up for that guilt and masked it over as another heartbreak when really, it was me refusing to have to go through all that again. I had to see you with that woman when I was in love with you for three years. Of course, it hurt. But I shouldn’t have an excuse. It was so stupid. Just thinking about it makes me want to break. I’m so sorry about that, Dick. I know we’ve already been over that months ago, but I just want to clear everything while I still can. God, I don’t even know if you’d listen to all this. I’m rambling. I’m sorry. I put all the blame on you when I had my share of mistakes. A whole lot of them. I’m sorry. I love you. And I’m sorry.’

.

You:

Hung up after two seconds. All you heard on the other end of the line was breathing and huffing, and nothing else. Whoever it was, they’ve been calling the past two minutes, just as you stepped out of the shower. And you almost cracked a rib flying from your bathroom to your kitchen table with just a towel around you, hoping to see his name on the screen. But alas, your luck just wasn’t at its peak.

You put your phone down, still with nothing to do, nothing else you could think of doing, than to just wait on that seat, stare at your phone, and hope Dick hadn’t hurt himself going after some goon alone the night before. Still no missing persons report. Nothing from the rest of the team, either.

Maybe just once more. You could call him. It wouldn’t annoy him too much. It had been hours since the last one.

You called, put the phone up your ear.

No ringing. It went straight to voice mail.

You opened your mouth, thinking you had something to say.

But you didn’t have anything to say. Not anymore. Not after you poured your whole heart out on the last one and now your throat was as dry as your palms were sweating.

You put your phone down, facing away from you, then you sank to your arms, burying your crumbling face away even with no one to see you.

.

‘That’s why I hate myself for not caring if this was difficult. Because I know, somehow, that’s it’s all still gonna be worth it. With you. Just thinking about the things we’d do, you’ve been the light of my life, the one person I look for not just because I need it, but because being with you makes so much of my day, every day that I see you. I look for you in crowds. I turn to your face when I want to look at something pleasant. I stare at doors, constantly hoping you’d be the one to walk in. I seek out for your voice, call you even when I know it’s a bother, find the most ridiculous excuses and the most stupid questions just so I’d have a reason to stand close to you, to have you talking to me, wanting all that everyday. I’ve never met anyone like you, Dick. I’ll never get used to you, and there’s no way in hell that I’d ever get tired of you. And maybe that’s the price to pay with all this being so hard. As complicated as it is, the troubles aren’t half the worth of the happiness it comes with.’

.

Two flights, three within the past thirty hours, jet-lagged far beyond a night’s repair, and his stomach in so many knots that even the bag of peanuts from the plane was too much to digest. And it wasn’t from poisoning or hunger or whatever it was. Everything in a whirlwind, one he can't even track.

He got to New York before it was dark, and he wanted to kiss the floor.

But he wasn’t at Gotham yet. This trip wasn’t over.

And if it weren’t for the half a million people crowded over at the airport, he would have been in Gotham right at that second.

Past the crowd, fumbling and running for whatever life he had left that wasn’t a spirit descended into something infinitely better than this, he made it over to the other side of the terminal, with his pits sweating his shirt off and his legs made of cooked chicken drumsticks and dough.

He got to the railway station, over at the attendant behind the counter.

“Excuse me,” he panted, and just like the one at the San Francisco airport, it startled her. Except now, there was no using his charm or his looks when he looked like he crawled out of a swamp.

“To Gotham,” he said.

“Ticket?”

He reached for his wallet, hands shaking so horribly it was worrying if he hadn’t known it came with his mind being as much of a mess as a wrecked ship from the 1800s.

And all the more did they tremble, down to his sorry knees, when he opened every flap there was on his wallet to find every pocket empty.

No.

No. no. no. no. no.

He searched his pockets. His jacket. His pants. His fucking shoes. If he had a hat he’d probably look into that too.

Nothing. Not a stub. A tiny stub that would have easily been blown by so much as a gust from a fan, let alone running a marathon in three airports in a single day.

“I,” he swallowed. “I seemed to have lost my ticket.”

Yeah. He wasn’t getting out of this one. The attendant looked at him and snarled like the annoyance he was.

“All the trains are sold out. And I’m afraid you can't board the train without a ticket.”

“Ma’am, I really, really, have to get to Gotham-“

“I’m afraid you’re gonna have to step out of the line.”

Like every force in the universe was out to get him.

“Do you have a phone? A payphone at least? I really need to call someone-“

“Sir, please step out of the line.”

“Please, ma’am, there has to be some way you can squeeze me into one of those trains-“

The attendant waved at someone behind him.

Two security guards were at his side before he could even turn around.

“Alright, alright, I’m leaving,” he huffed. “You guys don’t happen to have a phone I could use?”

Both guards ignored him, set him aside against a pillar.

And, with the excruciating exhaustion finally crashing into this one blow to the face, he stuck his back against the column, head up to the ceiling, then fell on his ass.

God, what does he even say to her after this?

If he actually gets to talk to her, that is.

“Final call for boarding!”

That light. One, single light. Or two, if he focused his eyes. The headlights from outside the revolving doors, from a bus that just opened its doors. It was a light, because it had GOTHAM in bold letters pasted onto its windshield.

And a line of people stepping inside. Kids and adults, old people alike.

He sat up from the floor, hungry, tired, and in pain.

But this was all going to be worth it. Every minute of this.

He just knew, that one last push, after this tormenting, inferno of a day, would all come to an end he’d dreamed about since he first laid eyes on her that day at the Wayne Manor’s library.

Dick got in line outside the bus, told the conductor he’d pay when they get inside. And after he did, he had just a quarter in his wallet to spare. No one sat beside him. The others were at the back. The one across was fast asleep. He couldn’t call her.

He’ll just have to hope, that whatever worries she had waiting for him to come up, that she’d forgive him enough for all this to end the way he hoped it would.

Three hours on a bus.

Didn’t even sound like it was remotely a long time.

The moment he took his seat, the bus doors hissed closed, and the air so silent, so did everything else calm.

He’s waited so long.

But he just had to wait for another three hours. In a bus. Then he’ll see her.

He closed his eyes.

.

‘I don’t even know why I rambled so much about all this being so complicated.

Because even if I had to walk up to the sky, I know there’s a galaxy waiting for me at the end. You are worth it. You are worth everything. I’ve never been so obsessed with anyone my whole life. You are, with my whole heart, my greatest love. And you are so beautiful that I never want to look at anything else ever again. And I never thought I’d get know beauty the way I do when I talk to you. You are everything I could ever want. And so much more.

And that pain, that hurt we both had to go through after all those years. That pining and waiting, and the heartbreak just because I was too stupid to understand that it didn’t have to be so hard after all, it doesn’t even matter, when at the end, I get to be with you.

I’d go through all that again if it means I can be with you.

You are the man I’ve dreamt about since I could first dream, and I’m lucky enough to have you in my reality. It’s you I want, Dick.

So I’ll wait for you. As long as I have to.

I love you so much.

Please, for the love of God, call me.’

.

You:

That message.

The longer you stared at your phone, the more you wondered if it was the right thing to do at all.

It was four am. You were tired. And worried.

And it was four am now, a whole day after.

Not a single call.

You’ve done it this time. You tripped at the finish line.

You were selfish enough to keep that man waiting for so long hoping he’d keep going, just as he had been for years.

And now, this is what you get.

You have yourself alone, in your apartment, one you haven’t cleaned in a week, and your heart in the same shatters as it often had been.

Your phone rang. You weren’t so excited to pick it up. Rightfully so when you saw it was just Bruce.

“Hello?” you said, your weight against the table’s surface, also surprised that it hadn’t broken.

“Y/N,” Bruce said. “I heard you were looking for Dick.”

“Mhm?”

“Sorry I haven’t called. Anyways, the last location I can point him to was at the Titans Tower in San Francisco.”

Okay.

You’ve had your heart broken before.

But it wasn’t just that that had broken right then.

Everything else, every bone, every bit of flesh there was, it was this numbing buzz you couldn’t even fight.

“What?”

Just then, someone knocked on your door.

And it wasn’t just a knock. They were pounding against the wood.

The ringing in your ears hadn’t even subsided, and you were breathless, muscles stiff. You just let the pounding go on until you heard Bruce hang up on the other line.

Life didn’t even give you so much as a second to process all that, of what he could be doing there, who he was with.

Your walked to the door, and without looking into the eyehole, you unlatched the lock and opened it.

Some glitch there was if all this were nothing but a simulation.

But it was as if the last five minutes-no-the last two days hadn’t happened at all.

Dick never looked like such a mess.

But, nonetheless, the way you stared at him was as if he was as beautiful as he ever was.

Everything that had broken, the moment you looked into his eyes, had fallen right back into place, into an entity far stronger than any quake could knock it out of.

Dick shut the door behind him.

He grabbed your face.

Then he kissed you. Without words. Without letting so much as a speck of time, however it worked now that it’d stopped, pass and waste away.

.

Dick:

Whatever she told him in that message he never got to hear, everything she ever had to say, the instant he felt her kiss him back, it was like every word flew out of her lips. How she wanted him. How she chose him. How in love she was with the mess of a human being he could be. How all the trials they’d been forced to go through, all the misunderstandings and the fights and the long months of this troubling, awkward place they wanted nothing more than to climb out of. He got all that with the way her lips molded so wanting and harsh, pressed so hard against his dried, chapped pair that have never witnessed anything more beautiful and so awfully perfect.

No more time to be wasted.

Not another second.

He had her. He finally had her.

He got the girl.

Not a chance that he wasted so much as another second.

He pushed her against the wall and the gasp that came out of her wasn’t at all out of pain, but at the sheer desire that had sparked at such impact that only knocked her into the same place he’d long settled in. And he could just feel, how much she wanted so badly to speak, to tell him what was raging in her head that was as much of a mess as his. But they’ll talk. Eventually. After.

All he wanted, right then, was to have her. Love her. Love her. To send her off to some paradise that long surpassed oceans and mirages and heavens that stood on clouds, to culminate that seemingly endless torture into a reward so great, that to say it would have been worth it would be so much an understatement. To play every instrument there was and let the song resonate into her body, and make it last for the rest of his life for so long as he could touch her. All that, he was going to give her tonight. Tonight. Right then and there.

Grabbing her legs up to his hips, her hands pinned to the wall above her head, it was too much of a flash for him to rush into this beautiful thing that shouldn’t be rushed at all. But he couldn’t slow down if it meant that he lives. Even if he died right after, he just couldn’t hold back.

He was pushing himself into her and the sounds that he earned out his lips were more than any songbird could cry out. After just having her against that wall, he finally got the sense to take it to the bed. It was dark. Not a light was on. And it was raining outside the one window she had near the bed and just the streetlight outside was enough to make him see her face. Dick placed her on top of his lap, on which she enjoyed herself to her own pace. Her hips were like waves, the ocean that rocked about, and the stain on his pants that she’d left behind was just as wet as so.

At that moment even she didn’t want to wait and talk any longer.

He took off her clothes, lied back.

Then he hoisted her up so the sweetest part of her body was just hovering over his mouth, her strong, beautiful legs, one of skin and the other of metal, on either sides of his head.

.

You:

You were made of gemstones. You were shimmering.

Of diamonds and rubies and emeralds, of the most precious rocks that could be found on every soil on earth.

Everything. That pain. That darkness. All the troubles and hardships, the disputes and every tear you’ve ever had to shed. Gone. Gone when he drew out this wonderful melody of sensations from his sweet, sweet tongue quivering you to every core. You were rocking, shaking, trembling, barely keeping yourself up. Not long after you screamed, and like the skies heard you it screamed back with a thunderous roar.

Then Dick shed his own clothes and moved inside you, rolling your hips with your two bodies now this one, beautiful entity, like you were holding his hand, just as you did right then, as you both ran through the darkness of a cave that has long haunted you, with creatures and bats and ghosts flying about, just to reach the end that was a light so close and so bright, you chased yourselves, chased that very light.

And once you reached it, that blinding, flashing white light that shone with this painful, glorious sting to every bit of your flesh, to say you found that end would be wrong. It wasn’t an end. It was this continuous, tantalizing aroma that would last a lifetime. It was beauty. You felt beauty. And it was in ripples you couldn’t see. A blur you couldn’t comprehend.

You had so much to tell him and ask him about.

But just as that wonderful night showed you, you had the rest of your life to do just that.

.

Epilogue

Dick:

Life could only ever be so cruel.

But life gives its niceties. Sometimes, to the people so used to it that they take it for granted.

But it’s even more so of a nicety when it’s the people who’ve long deserved it.

Not to say he deserved the world, but it was just that he’d gotten. From a world once so cruel, that never seemed to have granted them the time enough to be together, it’d never built up into anything more perfect.

Watching her from his car’s driver seat, from where he had a perfect view of her looking at the wondrous scenes flash by outside the window. It was even more beautiful, more than ever before, now that he could take just a second off his time from the steering wheel just to kiss her.

Just a little over six months together. Never has there been anything so rewarding in his life. A rainbow, ten of them at least, that filled what was once this depressingly grey sky. He always knew it’d be worth the world. But even he surprised himself.

When they parked the car, got out into this wide, orange field, a farmland just outside of Jersey with a valley at the farthest end, the only thing that battled the brightness of her smile was the sun itself.

“It’s beautiful, Dick.”

Her voice, even more so.

He set up her canvas, all her paint, and her brushes. They found a spot on the grass that was clean enough for them both to sit on. She didn’t use her easel. Instead, they both laid on this plaid red and white sheet over the grassy soil, her using her own knees to hold it up. And Dick sat beside her, watching her as the hours ticked. Without looking away, no longer ashamed when she’d catch him.

Just before the last of the sun had set, he pulled out from his pocket a ring, one with a diamond a shape of a white rose on top.

He got it a week after they got together.

Her face, her lips wide open as she realized what came in front of her, then he asked her to be his. Forever.

She said yes, just as the sun fell.

-----

MASTERLIST | 3 BIRDS 1 STONE MASTERLIST | RED | YELLOW

-----

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[lazarettta]

Misthios IV

Characters (Spartan!Reader x Mother Miranda)

Rating (T)

Word Count (3.4k)

Warnings (none I don't think)

You're up roaming around the castle and run into Miranda and Alcina.

It's been an exhausting but thrilling six months since you've gained the eye of this region's reigning ruler. Their Queen was ruthless as she was beautiful and you were quickly learning that she had a particular taste for blood that you haven't seen since your days in Sparta. Creative and cunning as she was, especially when it came to acts of revenge, but she took care of her kingdom and her people so long as they were loyal to her and her alone.

It was that last rule that forced you to discover just how cruel and destructive the mountains of Norway could be because you were tasked with chasing down a group of runaway slaves—as a punishment. This was different from your 'normal' punishments.

There was nothing special about these fucking slaves, they were just stupid enough to think it wise to steal from their Queen and then dare escape. It angered you so much that she'd send you on this quest when a small squadron of low ranked knights would've done fine.

It had taken you a week and two villages to finally catch up with them into the mountains. The conditions were harsher than what you were prepared for and you had to abandon half your gear and continue on foot. The cold was too much for your horse to handle, but he was old and you were sure to put him out of his misery before continuing on your hunt.

You'd caught them asleep in a cave a few miles away from a village that was tucked away into the mountain side. You purchased food and another horse, costing you all the silver you carried but it made your hunt easier and quicker. You hadn't been looking for the cave but a small fire through the thick of the trees caught your attention. Tying your new mare a distance away, you crept towards them, sticking to the tall grass and the shadows.

They'd all been sleeping so peacefully, even their so-called 'watcher'. It was almost too easy to just go and kill them quietly one by one...but Miranda had specific instructions for you to follow if you wanted her forgiveness. She wanted to hear them scream while she slept and that was exactly what you intended to deliver. You unsheathed one of your twin blades and with practiced ease, you swung right as the watcher’s eyes snapped open.

You were startled awake by a scream that you weren't sure if it was from your dream or if it was a real one. You sat up half way in the bed of the guest room you were put up in, leaning on your elbow ready to spring from beneath the sheets but nothing ever came. After another full five minutes of sitting and waiting with no result, you let yourself fall back onto the soft pillows and threw an arm over your eyes as they began to leak tears.

Nothing of sadness or the sort, you were simply exhausted—you were still in your clothing with your parka not too far away just in case you had to use the window for a quick escape. You even kept your boots on, even though it was too warm for you but you'd deal with it as you've been through more uncomfortable situations that couldn't even compare to simply being hot. Of course if you take off a few layers you'd be fine, but paranoia hasn't exactly been very kind to you in the past years...with good reason too. You hadn't died in over ten years and you planned to keep that streak going.

But even as those thoughts comforted you a bit, sleep evaded you—no longer finding you worthy of its pleasures and you just laid there sprawled out and tangled within the soft white linen sheets that were probably now dirty thanks to you. You didn't care. They probably had more somewhere.

Resigned to the fact that you'd probably never be able to go back to sleep, at least not any time soon, so pushed aside the heavy duvet and slipped out of the bed quietly. You moved towards the window but the only thing you could see was the few trees below and a land covered in blankets of undisturbed snow. A little further beyond the tree line, you saw smoke coming from the chimneys of the factory before you turned away from the view and left your room. You looked left and right of the hallway but there wasn't a sign of life to be found, not even that little maiden Alcina practically made your shadow. It was probably later than it actually felt and she was probably asleep...everyone probably was.

Checking your watch— ah, right. Miranda even took that. She took everything you could use as a weapon and it tickled you more than it annoyed you. Unsupervised, you can now take your time to feel your way around. You didn't get a chance to get a good look at everything before but now you did, and it was an opportunity to get to know the Lady of the castle. You'd long dismissed the thought that anything in this village was normal, it had more secrets and shadows than a horror book you guessed.

Walking through the halls of the second floor felt like a trip down memory lane—no particular region as most all castles were the same. Large and filled with fancy portraits and trinkets that could house and feed five families at a time. Carpet so plush and soft that you could feel it through your boots with each step. It absorbed your weight like a welcome home hug. Clearly Lady Alcina was a woman of finer things in life and that extended far outside of her wardrobe and preferred wines.

It just unnerved you how quiet everything was, a castle thing large and prosperous had to have staff minding it twenty four seven. Nonetheless, you finally came to the door that you recognized during your brief tour as the 'wine room'. Like everything else you'd come across, the door was finely made from dark red oak with gold trimmings—just like Alcina's stagecoach.

Without a second thought about it, you opened the door—simply with the intent of getting a better look at the wine collection the maiden mentioned during your tour. But that thought was cut short because the room wasn't as empty as the silence in the hallway led you to believe as you'd walked into a full conversation by two people; one you were hoping to avoid for a few days and the other you thought was asleep...or well away from your location. You were wrong on both accounts.

“Heisenberg is a blundering fool leading a pack of fleabags, Miranda. He is going to fail again!”

“And we don't have time to stress other options, especially that one! We're out of time already and—”

“Exactly we're out of time so just ask her—” you pushed the door open a little more and it creaked quietly.

They both turned to you and you stood frozen in the doorway, unsure of what to make of the scene in front of you or what you just overheard. Miranda and Alcina were sitting at the small table, well Miranda was, Alcina was sitting in one of her custom chairs a little further away and both women had two glasses filled with dark red wine. Alcina wasn't in her white dress anymore, instead she'd changed into a pair of dark slacks and deep red turtle neck and she was barefoot. A far cry from the regal dress she wore earlier but she still carried herself in the same manner.

You did your best not to think about how good Miranda looked without that damn mask on her face...even in those robes she still wore, Miranda was beautiful. Beautiful as the day you first met. You forced yourself to keep your attention on Alcina and not Miranda, who was now staring a hole into the side of your face like she was trying to will you into looking at her.

“Oh. Shit, I didn't know this room was occupied.”

Alcina glanced at Miranda briefly from behind her wine glass, her expression unreadable when she settled her eyes on you again, “Of course not, dear. Is everything alright?”

You cleared your throat, fighting the urge to look at Miranda because you could feel her trying to will your eyes in her direction, “No, actually I—”

You were interrupted by an ear piercing scream and high pitched laughter right behind her, on the verge of being hysterical. Lady Dimitrescu sighed heavily behind you and finished her wine before setting her glass down and rising to her full height.

“Please excuse me, it seems that my daughters are teasing the poor maids again.”

You started to comment that it didn't sound like it was teasing but you kept your mouth shut, knowing better than to stick your nose in the wrong place too soon—it never really turned out very well for you the first time. It would never cease to amaze you how fast and quiet Alcina moved despite her size, but it still baffled you that she hasn't ever gotten the doors to her own castle fixed to fit for her . But those thoughts were pushed to the far corners of your mind when the door clicked shut—leaving you alone in the room with Miranda, forcing you to acknowledge her now. You shoved your hands in your pockets and sighed, you weren't expecting to see her again so soon.

You still hadn't had time to get your shit together after the last time you two spoke, or more like argued back and forth. Easily falling into a pattern as if you hadn't been centuries apart. You still weren't sure how you were supposed to feel about that.

“Take a seat, (Y/n). Would you like a glass of wine?” Miranda broke the silence but she didn't break eye contact with you once she caught you eye, holding you as if she physically had her hands on your face. “We don't have to talk if you don't want to, (Y/n).”

“Oh, so now we're suddenly interested in what I want to do?”

“Yes, of course. Wine?”

You scoffed, rolling her eyes at her typical answer and you wanted to say no, you opened your mouth to do so but instead you were getting closer to the table she was sitting at. She poured you a glass of wine, and handed it to you. You raised an eyebrow, she couldn't have set it down for you? She insisted on handing it to you and the way Miranda was holding the glass left you no choice to place your hands over hers to take it from her. Those gold claw rings were ice cold against your skin and the edge of one nicked your skin but not deep enough to draw blood.

You had no idea what you wanted to say to Miranda, you weren't ready to talk about what you two needed to talk about but you weren't sure if you could sit here and do small talk with her over wine. It was so easy for you to get up and leave, maybe go back to your guest room and lock the door. So what was stopping you? Why was it difficult?

Miranda, who had been watching you intently, interrupted your rapid thoughts, “You always were a loud thinker, (Y/n).”

“Nothing interesting, trust me.”

“Oh I beg to differ,” Miranda chuckled, shifting in her chair slightly to angle herself towards you a little more. You sort of hated yourself for thinking how well she was pulling off the priestess look, “I could always tell what you were thinking even from a mile away. You were always quite the unique distraction.”

“You never complained before.”

“No,” she agreed, her voice dropping an octave or two lower, “though I doubt I ever will.”

You looked up, she didn't look away and you didn't know what to think. And for once, even if it was just for a moment, you saw a hint of uncertainty in her eyes.

“Miranda, what do you want? Why are you keeping me here?”

“Because we need to talk, (Y/n), to...clear the air as they say, I guess.”

“Yeah, okay, I got that part earlier,” you licked your suddenly dry lips, your nerves starting to buzz a little, “But that's not a good enough reason anymore.”

Miranda scoffed, actually rolling her eyes at you, “Why not? Closure heals the past. Doesn't it?”

“But what do you expect after that?”

“What do you?” she threw the ball back in your court as she refilled her own wine glass from a different bottle than what she used for your own, the wine she was using was a little darker and thicker. It didn't surprise you that the question was thrown back at you, she always did that when she was trying to keep the upper hand or get it.

But it didn't mean that the question wasn't a good one because what did you want after this? Would it even matter after all of this time? Have you ever forgiven her, really and truly moved on? Did she even care back then, did she care for you...or what you could do for her?

Miranda was watching you the entire time become lost in your thoughts, a trait you still carried with you. She picked up her wine glass and took a sip, her clear eyes taking you in while you were distracted enough to not notice her doing it so blatantly. You still looked the same as the last time she saw you, minus the murderous rage that had twisted your beautiful features that evening.

The modern world has touched many parts of you but your eyes still hold so much more than they did centuries ago. Being a warrior was now outdated and something of an historical myth but you still carried yourself as one, and Miranda could see new scars on your brown skin on the exposed skin she saw earlier on your neck and arms.

She'd been watching you for days before finally making herself known to you after going back and forth with herself during those agonizing days. Being far more irritable than she normally was and Miranda was positive that Lords Heisenberg and Moreau were quite sore with her at the moment. Well, Karl certainly would be. Seeing you made her angry...at first. Angry for the grief you left her with, the shatters you left her to pick up on her own.

Years of pent up thoughts and plans of revenge she'd enact when she got her hands on you came down to a single moment when she finally did get her hands on you and she couldn't do it. Miranda eyed your neck, where you should've still been bruised. She had you right where she needed you with one hand wrapped around your neck because you were so unsuspecting. It would've been so easy but she couldn't...so she knocked you out and threw you in a cell where she could keep a better eye on you. And perhaps no longer be so distracted from her work.

“Look who's thinking loud now.” you mumbled around the edge of your wine glass, finally taking a sip of the damn thing. Miranda wouldn't hesitate to bet that you assumed it was somehow poisoned even though you watched her open the bottle. “Good thoughts, I hope.”

Miranda hummed softly, “Do you really wish to know?”

You chuckled, and Miranda's eyes were drawn to the way your jaw clenched and unclenched when the wine hit your taste buds again, “With the way you were staring at my neck...it's not that hard to guess, Miranda.”

“You're only half right, my dear.” At your raised eyebrows, Miranda's smirk only widened, “My hands were wrapped around that strong neck again, but breaking it is far from my mind now .”

Your snort turned into a chuckle that was clearly infectious as Miranda joined you. Nothing was remotely that funny, if it was funny at all, but you were tired and the situation brought forth too many emotions for you, either of you to really process, and all you could was just...laugh.

Miranda was the first to sober up a bit though the smile never completely left her features. “Ah, and well... you know, it wouldn't do to try and kill the only other person on this wretched rock who knows me. Will it?”

You're very well the only person in this wretched world that will ever know the real me and still love me for it. Quite a miserable thought, isn't it?

You jumped when the door opened behind you and Alcina stepped into the room—you'd almost forgot where you were for a moment. Almost. Alcina took one look at the two of you, curious to find you actually still in the room much less sitting at the table sharing a glass of wine with Miranda. Especially with what she overheard earlier and how much tension you two create together.

Alcina knew that she interrupted something, probably something she had no business to but that did not stop her from sitting back down in her chair in her goddamn castle. And whatever drama that was happening within her territory was now her drama and she was going to get a front row seat. Alcina lit up another one of her cigarillos and pulled heavy before she released it in your direction.

“Running a business is quite the headache when no one else understands your vision, I swear. Don't have kids, (Y/n). They're messy and nothing but trouble.”

“Noted.” you forced a chuckle, not taking her bait but now you were trying to finish your wine as quickly as possible without seeming like you were trying to run.

“Well, how about it then, (Y/n)? Tell us a story, you couldn't have been a mercenary your entire life. Or have you?” You glanced at Miranda and saw that she was glaring at Alcina but the taller woman wasn't paying her any mind. And really, the only reason Miranda hasn't verbally intervened is because she was interested in your answer as well. Even if Alcina was asking just to poke at the situation for her own amusement.

“I've put away my shield and sword a long time ago,” you didn't bother to mention that you did keep them both in pristine condition just in case, “I've been enjoying the little things life has to offer.” lame. And a lie.

“Oh come now,” Alcina scoffed, not accepting your answer—it wasn't a very good one anyway, “That's—”

“Actually,” When it was clear that Miranda wasn't going to save you from this woman's nosiness (why would she?) You quickly drank the rest of the wine, it was really too sour for you, and rose from the chair. “I think I'll try to get some more sleep. Thanks for the wine and...yeah.” Could you be any more awkward?

Alcina was howling by the time the door slammed shut behind you and she took another pull from her cigarette stick, still paying no heed to Miranda's heated glare. “Oh, you're going to have to tie that one down if you want her to talk to you.”

“I will have your head if you stick your nose in my business again, Dimitrescu.”

“Then don't store your business in my castle.” Alcina shot back, meeting Miranda's glare head on but immediately conceded when she felt Miranda's growling through the vibrations of her glass in her hand that was still resting on the table. “Alright, alright...but you're always welcome to use my dungeons. Use chains though those biceps of hers could probably break through the ropes.”

“Alcina, that is enough!”

The Lady of the castle just laughed lightly until it tapered off into a pleasant hum around her famous Sanguis Virginis wine while watching Miranda readjust her face mask. Her eyes brighter than they have been the last few hours., Alcina pushed for one more question—deciding to risk Miranda's wrath, “How'd you ever let such a handsome creature slip between your fingers?”

Miranda sighed heavily, no pause in her strut to the door, “Egos and misunderstandings.” she was gone before the lock clicked into place.

I'm so sorry for being hella lazy, lol, I'll add the other chapters of this story today 😭😭😭😭

[cruciology]

Familiar Need

Requested by anon: Could you do a Sandor x reader she's one of Baelish's girls and Sandy is a regular and he takes her with him after the Blackwater battle? Idk if that made sense?

You sunk the pitcher beneath the surface of the steaming water, filling it to the brim before pouring it over the Hound’s head. Setting the pitcher on the wooden table next to the tub, you grabbed the bar of soap. The Hound let you run your fingers through his hair as you straddled him, both of your naked bodies hidden under the water. His hands held your hips, absently feeling the curves of your body as you scrubbed dirt and sweat and, most likely, blood from his hair. 

You had many odd requests from customers in your time; bathing together was a perfectly normal one compared to others. But you had heard many things about the Hound. You had been afraid when he paid for your services that he would be one of the more difficult clients, someone who took pleasure in hurting you, seeing you bruised or beaten. So you had been surprised when he had asked you to bathe with him. It seemed so innocent. What followed after was nothing but, but every time was the same. Every time, he wanted the same thing. Every time, he asked for you by name. 

He took the soap from you, taking his turn to wash you with his large hands. His thumb traced your nipple, making you suck in a short breath. In your line of work, you didn’t meet a lot of people that could make you do that. That was something else that surprised you when the Hound had first come to you. You assumed he would be like any other client, tossing some coins at you and finishing as soon as they could get their cock into you. But the Hound liked to take his time. He liked to hear you moan his name, to feel you come undone around him. 

You toyed with the thick, dark hair that covered his chest as he ran his hands across your back. You leaned in, placing a kiss on his scarred cheek first, then his lips. 

“Almost didn’t think you were going to come see me tonight,” you said. You knew how you sounded. Needy. But you had come to look forward to the Hound’s visits. The first time he had chosen you, you had been frightened, but that was over a year ago. You knew him much better than that now. “You haven’t been here in days.”

“Been busy,” He said shortly. He tucked away a strand of your hair that had fallen loose from where you had tied it up. It was hard to believe that the hands that had taken the lives of so many men could be so gentle with you. The other women in the brothel were terrified of him. They didn’t understand how you could let him touch you, let alone how you could look forward to it. It wasn’t a secret that he was a killer and that he took pleasure in it, but that wasn’t the side he showed to you. You often found yourself aching for his touch. Like right then, when you sat on top of his thick cock, hard and waiting. You could easily adjust yourself and have him fill you, but you only had to wait a bit longer. 

“Been busy a lot since dear King Joffrey took the throne,” you said with no attempt to hide your disdain. 

“Keeping that little shit alive is a lot of work,” the Hound grumbled. He would never speak ill of his charge with anyone but you. He wasn’t stupid. 

“Is it true what they’re saying?” You asked. “About King Robert’s brother coming with an army?” 

“Do you really want to talk of battles and war?” The Hound asked, dropping the bar of soap into the empty pitcher on the table. 

“I don’t care much for war, no, but I do like to be informed,” You said. “It’s not a secret that Lord Stannis has no love for women in my profession.” 

“You do sound informed.” 

“If we manage to survive the attacks, I fear I don’t know what he’ll do with us afterwards, the godless whores.” It was a bit of a hot topic in the last few days. You had to assure the other girls that you were positive things would be alright despite having little optimism yourself. 

The Hound kissed your collar bone, then your throat, moving to your jaw, and finally kissing your lips. His hand caressed your cheek, his finger tips burying in your hair. He pulled your hair down, the ends of it grazing the water just slightly as it fell down around your shoulders. You traced your thumb along the burned side of his face as you kissed him back. He used to hate being touched there, thinking that it must disgust you like it did everyone else. Now, he enjoyed the feel of your soft hands against the ruined flesh. 

“Nothing will happen to you,” The Hound promised, his lips still on yours. 

“You can be so sure?” You asked. 

He stood up, holding you tightly against him with just one arm. Sometimes you thought he just liked to show off how strong he really was, but you didn’t really mind. You liked how easy it was for him to hold you. He stepped out of the brass tub, still dripping water. Taking you to the other side of the large room, he pressed you onto the fur blanket on the bed. In one quick thrust, he was fully inside of you. You never could quite get used to his size, it always made you gasp. Normally, he liked to take his time, exploring all of your body before entering you, but he seemed to know how badly you needed to feel him, all of him. 

“I’m sure,” He said, kissing you roughly. He took both your hands in his, drawing them up above your head and pinning them. His free hand slid down your body, following your curves to the point where your bodies met. He rubbed your clit with his thumb, making you arch into him, your eyes squeezing shut. 

“Sandor,” You gasped out. His grip on your hands tightened and his speed quickened. Each thrust of his hips slammed into you, making you feel closer to the breaking point. He knew exactly how to make you come undone. The stars of light burst behind your eyelids, your chest heaving as you came. The Hound released his grip on your hands, holding himself up on his elbows as he pushed into you almost violently. 

You pushed him back, rolling him over onto his back and catching him by surprise. He held your hips to guide your rhythm. It was his favorite way to fuck you. He was so much larger than you, he worried you’d be crushed under his weight. With you on top of him, he could focus on how good your pussy felt. You liked being able to watch his face as you fucked him. You liked seeing his eyes squeeze shut as he felt you slide up and down his hard cock. You liked the feel of him digging his fingers into your ass. You steadied yourself with your hands on his chest, rolling your hips against him. 

“Fuck,” The Hound growled as you rode him. He squeezed tighter to you and you knew that meant he was close. He would pull out of you just in time to finish on your thigh with a grunt, but very suddenly, you didn’t want that. You moved your hands over his where they still held you. 

“Finish in me,” You said. You heard him curse again before you felt him shudder, filling you with his hot seed. 

His chest heaved as you got off of him. You rested your head on his shoulder, finally feeling the cool night air on your still slightly damp skin. You lay in silence for a long time, just listening to his breathing. 

“You’re that afraid that you’re going to die?” He asked finally. 

“I wanted to feel all of you,” You said. You could still feel him inside of you, not just the dull but pleasant ache he always left, but also the stickiness creeping down your thighs. “Don’t leave tonight.” 

“I can’t-,” 

“Sandor,” You said, lifting yourself onto your elbow. He studied your face as you looked down on him. “Please, stay.” He didn’t answer. Instead, he grabbed you by the waist, pulling you back on top of him. You laid your head on his chest, letting him pull the blanket over both of you. 

Stupid. You were bloody stupid. You should be down in the basement with the rest of the girls, but instead, you were up in the brothel alone. Even Littlefinger was nowhere to be found. If he could be counted on for anything, it would be saving his own skin. 

You were only out of hiding out of sickening curiosity. You heard rumors of wildfire. You figured you would be safe enough, with the battle being mostly on the shores. If you had just stayed inside, watching from the safety of your room, you would have been fine. It was when you decided to step outside of the brothel. 

You weren’t even ten steps away from the door when you were pulled so hard you feared your arm would pop out of its socket. You immediately shoved back, but when the dagger pressed to your throat, all attempts to fight back were quieted. 

You couldn’t tell where the man had come from, what side he was on. It didn’t really matter. Both had bad men and any man threatening you with a blade was bad in your book. You were sure you knew exactly what he wanted from you. A man coming to a whorehouse wanted one thing. 

“Let’s step inside,” He said, smiling with a rotten mouth, reeking of ale. His weapon was still pressed to your skin. If you so much as breathed too heavily, you would bleed. 

“Please,” You said. “Just lower your dagger.” 

“How do I know you won’t run?” The man asked, keeping his dagger exactly where it was.

“Where is there to run in all of this?” You asked him. As if to make your point, a flash of green fire burst to the chorus of screams. 

Looking satisfied with that answer, the man pulled his dagger away from you, his hand still tightly on your arm. But with a flash of silver, his grip went slack and he was suddenly relieved of his head. It was your turn to scream. 

But your terror only lasted a moment when you realized who the sword belonged to. 

“Sandor!” You cried in relief, throwing you arms around the Hound’s neck. He hugged you back, lifting you off the ground, holding you so tightly you could barely breathe. “Are you alright? Why are you here? You should be-,” 

“I know where I should be,” The Hound said, setting you back on your feet. “And it’s not in that fucking castle.” 

“Won’t you be in trouble for abandoning the king?” 

“I’ll be in more trouble for telling him to go fuck himself,” The Hound said. You let out a surprised laugh. “I’m leaving. Tonight. Right now.” 

“What?” You felt as if you had been slapped. “Where?”

“Don’t fucking know, but I’m going,” He said. He grabbed one of your hands with his, dwarfing it. You always felt so small next to him. Small, but safe. Always safe. “Come with me.”

You studied his face. He knew what he was asking. This wasn’t a fleeting feeling. You belonged to Littlefinger just as much as the Hound belonged to the King. You would be stealing yourself away, but it would be in good company. 

You squeezed his hand and nodded. 

[p---ink]

White.

Author’s Note: First Chris Oneshot. It was supposed to be a blurb/drabble, but I think its a bit too long for that now. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this filth. Also you ever get that feeling, where you feel like you've came up with an idea in your head originally, but also feel like you may have seen it somewhere else? Yea that's how I feel about this piece. So if you've read something similar to this, please link it and let me know so I can edit or delete this post altogether.

Summary: Chris greets you after a long day at work, with some TLC.

Word Count: 2.9k.

Warning: Fluff and Smut. Oral (female receiving), fingering, Semi-mean Daddy Chris, over-stimulation, multiple orgasms, and I think...maybe that’s it? Please let me know if I forgot something.

Disclaimer: Gif is not mine. 

“The kids are asleep?” You whispered, when he held his finger to his lips upon your arrival. 

“Yea, I just laid Ezra down. That is one rowdy little person.” He said chuckling, leaning down to plant a kiss on your mouth. He held you by your waist to pepper more along your face. 

“Chris baby, you are a God-send.” You sighed, leaning in to his touch. “You will not believe the shitty day I had.”

“Hold that thought and take a seat, doll” he ordered, urging you towards the living room by your shoulders. “I’ll be right back.” He promised. 

You sighed as you threw your work bag down on the love chair beside you, kicking your shoes off in the process.  When you crossed the room to drop down on the sofa, the weight of today’s events crushed you instantaneously, as you waited for your husband to return. 

You’ve been married for six years, and he’s been good to you for all of them. Great even. He always listened, and almost never complained. How could he when he was usually away, due to his job? 

He was forever busy with filming, press tours and whatnot. It made him feel guilty to leave you and your sons so often. So any time he was at home for a break, he took full advantage. He spent time with his boys, and then the rest with you, spoiling you all with his love. 

Preoccupied with your stress, you almost failed to notice Chris taking a seat in front of you. He took hold of one of your legs, and that’s when you noticed your spa-kit placed next to him. 

“Baby, you don’t have to do this.” You cried, scrunching your face in relief when he rubbed your calf in just the right spot.

Chris flashed those pretty baby blues at you, along with that signature smug smirk. “You know I do. And you know I want to.” He said, before dousing his hands with oil. 

As he firmly massaged the coconut into your skin, you couldn’t help but marvel at him. Taking a pillow into your arms to hug, and hide your giddy smile, you reply with, “What I did I do to deserve you?”

“Well I would tell you, but I don’t have enough time, because you’ve got to tell me about what’s got my girl so upset.” He informed you with a stern look that read who do I have to kill? “Before you do that,” he started, placing your newly moisturized leg down before grabbing the other, “Choose a color.” 

You tucked your bottom lip between your teeth, peering over to take a look into the open basket. It had an assorted amount of different nail polishes and products for nail care. Your favorite color currently decorated the bottom of the basket, and it made you recall the time your oldest son Jeremy spilled its contents over while playing a game of “paint” about a week ago. That boy. You thought, shaking your head playfully. Well I guess I won’t be choosing that one. 

After a moment of close examination, and scrutiny, you chose “White”, which made Chris immediately stop his measures against your legs, to peer up at you through hooded lids. 

“So its one of those days, huh.” He smirked. “I was hoping you’d pick that one.”

“What do you mean by that?” You questioned. You hadn’t known he preferred certain colors on you. 

“I’ll tell you later, but first tell me about your day baby.”

He didn’t need to tell you twice. You were dying to get it all off your chest.  You spilled out your hearts content, as your husband massaged your legs, then your feet, and in between your toes. As he delicately removed the old paint from your last session, and proceeded to paint your feet, you were almost finished relaying the message. 

“…and its just like they treat me like I’m insane! But you know what? The way i’m always overlooked, and ignored, makes me feel like I am going insane. Every time I suggest an idea, its stupid. But let some asshat say the exact same thing, and they praise him like a god.” You complain, rolling your eyes, at your memories from your work day. 

Chris offered you the occasional nod or two, humming softly at your cries of frustration when needed. And as much as he wanted to offer his two cents on the matter, he knew that what you wanted most was to be heard. You just wanted to be listened to. And while you wouldn’t of minded him beating their asses, he knew you needed his tenderness. His love. His care. And so that’s what he gave you. 

“And you know why they do it right? It’s because I’m a woman! A black one at that. Lord Jesus, it pisses me off so much.” You sigh, finally bringing your eyes down to him, after they had been trained on the air and nothingness around you; you had a habit of re-living stories as you told them. “But honey, this has really helped out a lot.” You say, cupping his chin lovingly. 

“You know I’ll do anything for you doll. And fuck those sons of bitches. They’re idiots if they can’t see how amazing you are. If you quit, like I suggested a while ago, that’ll really show ‘em.” Chris exclaimed, applying a second coat of white.

“Now you know I love what I do. I just wish I was more appreciated is all!” 

He gave you a sympathetic look before saying, “well you know me and the boys appreciate you.”, running his fingers along the ridges of your toes to remove the misapplied dye on your skin. 

“I know you do baby. I mean look at what you’re doing for me now.” You said, gesturing towards the care he took with your feet. 

Chris just smiled in response. He only felt slightly defeated when you rejected his idea to stay at home. You told him many stories about the jerks you worked with. You were among one of the only women at your company, and you paid for that fact daily. You told him, how they would talk to you, and treat you, even though you had the same amount, if not more experience as they did. He didn’t want you to have to put up with that. He wanted you to kick your feet up and enjoy the life he would provide for you and the kids you both created. But, like the supportive husband he was, he honored your wishes to pursue your passions. He knew that was what made you happier at the moment. The time would come, where he could spoil you completely, though. 

“Speaking of this,” You started, motioning towards your feet once more. “What’d you mean when you said “So it’s one of those days, huh”” You asked, putting on your best impression of him. 

Chris put on a smile that could light up a room, as a deep throaty chuckle erupted from his chest, and vibrated through your body via your feet. “Is that what you think I sound like? No matter, I’ll tell you what I meant. I can predict exactly what it is you need, and how you feel, based on the nail polish color you choose.” He said confidently, picking up a clear polish to apply the final coat.

“Is that right?” You ask, failing to take him seriously, even when he flashed that cocky grin and brow twitch that he often used to back his claims. “You’re so full of shit.”

“Seriously. I can. Listen.” He informed you, opening the clear polish, and brushing the access paint along the insides of the bottle. “I can prove it.”

“Fine! Go ahead.” You state, becoming intrigued.

Delicately holding your left foot against his knee, he starts explaining his theory while applying polish. “You see, when you choose a pale blue or orange, I know you just wanna forget about things with a movie or a cuddle session. Forest green or black, when you feel like throwing a couple of shots back with your girls at a bar. Mauve and a nude of any kind are your favorites, and you request them when you need to feel in control, classy, or sophisticated. And you always choose a soft pink, or yellow, when you need a happy reminder, or a burst of energy and inspiration. Lavender, is a color I wish you’d choose more, since it represents your happiness. Gray, is a color I wish you’d choose less, since it means you’re sad. And then there’s plum purple and candy apple red, two colors I can’t get enough of. You want those, when you’re feeling sexy. See, baby I can read you like an open book.” He declared, moving on to your second foot. Feeling quite sure of himself. 

You just stared at him in awe. Then you realized he didn’t mention, the one he just spent  ten minutes applying. “You forgot about white.”

“Oh I didn’t forget angel.” He corrected, smirking as he finally finished painting both feet. “I’m just waiting on your toes to dry.” After he says this, he begins to sensually blow cool air on your toes. 

“Chris! Tell me what it means!” You pout playfully, growing fed up with his secrecy. Also tickled from the air he blew. 

“Fine. But be quiet, you don’t wanna wake those little demons.” He warned, fixing you with a stern look that made you erupt into quiet giggles. He always made you laugh with his juxtaposed funny-seriousness. He was seriously funny. “White is my absolute favorite. You wanna know why? Its simple, and doesn’t drown out your pretty personality. It goes with every outfit, purse, and hairstyle. You wear this color, when you’re frustrated. Exasperated. Annoyed. You choose white, when you need me to wrap those pretty little legs around my neck, so I can make you cum till kingdom come. Or until you see, ‘white’. Whichever comes first”. He finished, staring at you seriously all of the sudden. A thick silence had befallen the two of you, and you almost didn’t know how to escape it. 

After a moment, you break out into a smile, despite Chris’ unmoving features. “Are you sure that’s what I want? Or is it something you want?”

“It’s what you need.” He affirmed, finally matching your expression, only his smile held a lot more lust than yours. “Tell me I’m wrong.”

“I’ll tell you something alright, Chris. I think you paint my nails entirely too much.”

He lets out a breathy chuckle, moving to pack up the spa kit, before saying “So in other words I’m right.” He rises to his feet, peering down through his long lashes with a knowing grin, before turning to leave the room. But not without saying, “Don’t worry baby, I’ll give you what you need.” Leaving you an anxious mess.

You start squirming in your seat, waiting with anticipation for him to return. You try to sit in your sexiest pose, but it makes you feel awkward. Then you start to wonder if you should remove your underwear. But you know he likes doing that. You even wonder if you smell okay, after such a long day at work. A million thoughts race through your mind, and you barely register his presence when reenters the room. You slightly jump, when you feel his warm hands brush against the nape of your neck.

“Shit baby.” Chris laughs, as he rounds the couch. “I knew it was bad, but I didn’t realize how bad. Let daddy, handle this for you.” He says kneeling back in front of you, knees tucked firmly under his person. He smoothes his hands over the expanse of your soft supple skin, leaving a burning trail of desire in his wake. When he hooks his fingers underneath the waistband of your panties, your breath hitches as the cool air hits your moistened sex. 

You lift your thighs and legs, so he can carefully remove the lace without ruining his handwork on your feet. When Chris surveys your dampened panties and inhales their scent, his grin grows wider. “You’re already this wet for me?” 

He gives you no time to answer as he’s pulling you closer to his face, by your thighs. The sudden movement caused a whimper to escape your throat, soft sound making his cock harden. He’s working his kisses up against your thighs with a quickness, ready to produce more sounds like the last. 

Your head’s position on the couch has you feeling a bit awkward, and you go to say  “This is uncom—” but cut yourself off with a moan, as he dives his thick tongue between your petals, writing love notes against the skin.

“What’s that, doll?” Chris asks, hot breath dangerously close to your bud.

You just mewl in response, wetting his beard with your juices, as he eats you like you’re his last meal. “Right there baby.” You groan, grinding yourself against his mouth when his tongue darts against your nub. 

“Right here?” He questions softly, repeating the same gestures, sending a jolt through your body that makes you buck against his face. 

Your words leave your throat, as he sucks harshly against the problem areas, shocks of pleasure emitting through your person. And just when you thought it couldn’t get any better, he adds his fingers. First two, but then three as he starts fucking your pussy. 

“D-daddy!” You cry, voice coming out shaky as you writhe against his lips and fingers. His actions have you climbing up the couch. 

Then he removes his lips, warning you to keep quiet. “My babies are upstairs, I’m gonna need you to keep your pretty mouth shut.” He commands, placing your soaked panties between your lips. 

As he quickens the pace of his fingers, and makes his tongue dart from left to right relentlessly against your clit, you approach your first orgasm of the night, and he knows it too, when your hole clenches around his fingers. 

He smiles, and tells you how proud of you he is, but he isn’t done with you yet. 

♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎

Your muffled moans ring through your ears, as you clamp your teeth down around your underwear. Your jaw was becoming slack from keeping it open so long, and you were feeling sore.

Chris was still continuing his assault against your sex. He had long moved from his position on the floor, and now sat beside you on the couch. 

He had your legs sprawled open, keeping them from closing with one hand gripped on your thigh, and the other rubbed fast and hard circles against your clit, while he whispered sweet nothings into your ear.

“What number was that one, baby? Five, six? I lost count after the third time, when you squirted on daddy’s chest.” He growled, biting his lip, as he quickened his pace against your nub. “Do you think you can do that again?”

You moaned in protest, shaking your head from left to right, as you approached another orgasm. You couldn’t take anymore pleasure, your sensitive bud was going through too much.

“What’s that baby? I can’t hear you.” He teased, face as serious as it could be. He was testing you. You knew not to remove the underwear, or you’d be there all night. When you made no moves to pull them out, he did it for you, a string of spit connecting your lips to the fabric.

You immediately pleaded with him to ease up. “Daddy I don’t think I-I can take an-nymore.” You cried, now a blubbering mess.

“You don’t think you can take anymore?” Chris repeated, mocking you. “Well that’s too bad. Daddy thinks his princess looks too pretty when she’s cumming. So suck it up, because I’m not stopping until we have to replace this couch.”

You  felt that familiar coil in your stomach again, threatening to snap, as you threw your head back. You were a sweating mess now. You had hair glued to your face, and neck, and your shirt was drenched, as it clung to your stomach. But still, it wasn’t quite as drenched as your pussy, thighs, and couch cushions were. 

Chris was as hard as a rock, but you knew if you touched him, he’d get angry. He wanted to play with you, until you were begging him to stop.

“What happened today at work again baby? What was it Chad said to you? I bet if I have you fucked out like this every night, I’d be the only man on your mind.” He whispered against your ear.

Your stomach began spasming, as you clenched painfully around nothing. This would be your last one too, before your body gave up. 

Tears streamed down your cheek, as you contorted your face into the sexiest expression Chris had ever seen. And then, just before your screams of pleasure could rip through your chest, he covered his mouth over yours, as you squirted all over his hands, your thighs, and stomach. When you finally opened your eyes, you could only see white, before your vision came back into focus.

Massaging the wet, between your folds, Chris bought his fingers up to your lips and said “open.” And you did, sucking all your juices from his digits without breaking eye contact. “Attagirl.” He praised, wiping your tears away. Feel better now?” He asked, small smirk playing on his lips.

You nod tiredly, throat dry from your previous activities.

He brushes your sweaty hair behind your ears before saying, “Good. Now, let’s paint those pretty pink walls white, too.” 

[dreamescapeswriting]

[21:48] ~ Changbin [M]

Word Count: 2.8K 

A/N: @taestannie​ is a genius! Pointed something out to me and it just had to become a waiter AU for binnie boy 🥺💜 

Genre: Smut, waiter/waitress AU, friends to lovers

Friday night shifts were the worst possible shifts to be placed on and everybody knew that which is why everyone except for you, Changbin and a couple of others were the only ones waiting tables that night. The restaurant was overcrowded by people as it always was on a Friday night and you were already wanting to pull your hair out of your scalp and you'd only been on shift for ten minutes.

"Drinking game tonight?" Changbin asked as he watched you walking over to him at the bar, you nodded in agreement showing him the back of your notepad, you'd already started taking notes on the number of times you'd been told to smile. You and Changbin had been working there for the last year and you'd come up with a drinking game to do every Friday you locked up at night - you were the managers which meant you were in charge of locking up each night.

"Just you and me tonight though, everyone's leaving early. Felix has a date," You rolled your eyes when didn't Felix have a date? Changbin watched as you bent down in front of him to pick up one of the serving trays from his bar. You were wearing the usual black tight-fitted low cut top that the sleazy restaurant owner ordered that every girl wore on shift along with the tight pencil skirt that drove Changbin wild for you. Everything you ever did drove Changbin wild for you, he could never fully concentrate when you were on a shift together. 

"You okay there Changbin?" You giggled coming back up from the ground and making eye contact with him, he nodded his head and began making drinks from his notepad when you joined him on the other side of the bar.

"Do you know what table 45 said to his wife just now?" You whispered nodding your head over to the window seat where a couple were sitting together, he shook his head and you started laughing softly at what you’d heard them talking about. 

"They're taking their pick of the guys tonight and you caught her eye." He groaned at the thought of it, it wasn’t how he wanted to spend his night tonight. Everyone knew that couple, they came in every Friday to flirt with the waiters and waitresses, giving them huge tips and making sure they never shared them with anyone else. Always touching and flirting with people whenever they got the chance, you were sure they were trying to make a threeway happen. 

"Can't say I blame them, hot stuff." You joked winking at him before walking away with your tray of porn star cocktails, Changbin watched as you swung your hips from side to side a little extra than usual. You and Changbin would flirt...a lot...There was no secret that there was the sexual tension between you both but nothing ever happened as much as both of you wanted it to.

"Cat got your  tongue?" Chan - one of the other waiters - questioned when he watched Changbin watching you, he stuttered over his words spilling beer onto the tray he was holding. 

"W-What?! No, her?! We're just friends," Chan snorted at the younger waiter in front of him and shook his head, 

"Sure thing, and I’m a rapper" He said sarcastically as he walked away from Changbin while he went onto cleaning up the drinks he'd split all over the place. 

Towards the end of the night, it was starting to get so busy you and the other waiters were climbing over one another to get through the place. The place always got like this towards the end of the night, people would come here before they went on a night on the town since the drinks were cheaper and you could find friends there easier than in the packed out clubs.

"Can I start you off with some drinks tonight?" You questioned looking down at a group of girls who all looked disappointed that they didn't have a male server with them but instead they had you to deal with.

"Excuse me Y/n," You looked over your shoulder as you heard Changbin say your name. God, you'd give anything to hear him moan it just once, after a couple of seconds you realised you couldn't move thanks to the place being so packed full. He placed his hands on either side of your hips and pressed himself against you as he got by the table. You could feel every inch of him and it sent a pool to your core just thinking about him,

"Y-yeah, drinks?" You stuttered out trying to distract yourself from the need of wanting Changbin to take you into the back and fuck you until your voice ran out.

Changbin stood at the bar mixing drinks and you looked at your pad, you had a bunch of cocktails you weren't skilled enough to make and you knew he was. You walked over with a giant smile on your face and leant forward on the bar. Changbin tried to keep his eyes on you but it was hard when you were practically hanging out of your top for all to see, it only sent more blood rushing to his cock. He was concentrating so hard on not staring at your breasts all he'd heard you say is, 

"Sex on the beach and make me scream?" His eyes snapped to yours in horror and you frowned at him, 

"You're the only one decent enough at making them don't make me beg Binnie." You whined out running your fingers up and down his bicep as you gave him your best puppy dog eyes you could conjure up. Flirting with him was the best way to get your own way right now and you knew that too well,

"Yeah, s-sure. What table?" He stuttered out finally realising that you meant the cocktails and you weren't asking him to fuck you on the beach and make you scream.

"Table 12, be careful Binnie. I think they bite." You whispered in his ear moving away to go on the five-minute break that you had. You just needed to be away from him for five minutes, any longer around him and you'd be dying for him to bend you over the bar.

"Here you go ladies," Changbin said as he unloaded the drinks onto their table, they all smiled at him and began flirting heavily but its something he was used to after working her. He watched as you came out from the back of the kitchens adjusting your top and he bit his lip watching you closely. 

"Can I get you anything else?" He asked going back to his job and trying to ignore the raging hard-on he was getting under his apron, he thanked the lord that he had one otherwise everyone would know what was going on in his mind right now. You had no idea what you did to him with the simplest of things, you could say a word to him and have him hard for you. One-touch, one whisper, anything and he would be yours for you to take.

"Thanks, Binnie, I owe you." You said as he came back to the bar you were standing behind, he went to walk behind you when you back up into him thanks to another waitress walking in front. 

"Shit sorry," You whispered as you felt him against your ass, he was hard and it turned you on even more than you already were for him. You ignored the feeling and cleared your throat, 

"Last hour! Let's go!" You yelled clapping your hands together trying to get everyone on the move and into their places for final drink orders.

The shutters were pulled down and locked, you and Changbin were alone in the whole restaurant trying to close up everything. You’d finished counting out the tips before everyone left for their own nights and now you were counting up the register while Changbin stood behind his bar.

"The perks of being bar manager and manger," You looked up from the books in front of you and over to him while he spoke, he pulled out a bottle of tequila for you both and two small shot glasses smirking darkly as he knew you always had to take more shots than he did. 

"We can drink our sorrows away," He was overdramatizing everything while you counted up and cashed the money into the safe. Once it was done you walked over to the bar he was standing behind and took out your notepad. 

"You're going to be hammered," He whistled looking at all of the notes you had by everything you had to take a shot for, 

"Five for being told to smile, 6 for asking for my number, 10 for the sly ''accidental'' ass grab, 9 for the number of times a man has told me that my skirt fits me perfectly." You slammed the notepad down and waited for him to show you his pad but he didn’t,

"Not showing," He put it into his top pocket and you scoffed, 

"Erm, yes you are those are the rules. Give it to me." He shook his head at you tapping his pocket with the book inside and you blinked at him, 

"Come and get it," You stared at him from across the bar, he knew you would and you knew you would climb across that bar and get it from his hands if you had to. 

"Fine," He threw it down in front of you not wanting to risk you hurting yourself if you climbed over the bar and you sighed reading from his page. You didn’t see why he was hiding it, it was nothing, 

"Five shots? Five shots?!" You sounded offended and you were, here you were with 30 shots. 

"You're taking some of mine, I can't handle 30 on my own." You told him as he started making up the shots in front of you.

Five minutes later you were 15 shots in and starting to get a little giddy from the alcohol, you’d never been one to handle your drinks and neither had Changbin so they’d gone straight to your heads. 

"I have an idea, I saw it on a movie once and it looked like fun." Changbin watched as you pulled him over to one of the tables and laid down on top of it. 

"W-What are you doing?!" Blood rushed to his cock again as he watched you start to unbutton your shirt and reveal your black bra to him, it made his mouth run dry as he thought about you laying there like that for him, 

"Relax Binnie," You placed a lime into your mouth, salt on your chest and poured some of the shot onto your stomach waiting for him to catch onto what you wanted him to do. 

"Body shots? Really?" You nodded and he smirked at you, both of you too tipsy to care anymore and far too pent up to even care that you were just two flirty friends. 

"You asked for it Princess," The nickname sent a pool to your panties and your legs clamped together trying to ignore the pressing feeling of wanting him inside of you. He sucked the tequila from your belly button and then slowly licked the salt from your chest, coming up to your mouth and smirking as you proudly held the lime there for him. He licked his bottom lip before taking the lime out of your mouth with his lips before throwing it somewhere across the room. He grabbed your face and began to make out with you heavily on the table, your hands went into his hair bringing his face closer to yours. Tugging on the strands of his hair and he let out a low grunt of your name, that was all it took. You needed him.

"Want you." You whispered to him and he swallowed the lump that was forming in his throat nodding and looking at you as you shifted to the edge of the table spreading your legs open for him, it wasn't the most hygienic of places for this to happen but neither of you cared right now. You needed one another and you weren't going to waste time calling a taxi to take you home. Your shaky hands undid his belt and dropped his pants to the floor and he began kissing you again, he laid your back flat against the table gently, 

"C-Changbin," You whispered looking into his eyes as he pulled away from the kiss, his breathing was laboured and he looked at you as he slowly slipped two fingers into your heat, he didn't even give you a second to get used to it as he began to finger you. Your back arched off the table and you moaned out his name clenching around his fingers. He groaned watching you with lust in his eyes as you clenched around his fingers he just kept imagining what you would feel like around him, crying out his name whenever he'd hit that sweet spot of yours. 

"Good?" He chuckled adding another finger into your heat, your hands gripped onto the edges of the table as your toes curled as you felt him hitting your g-spot, 

"R-Really good Binnie!" You whimpered feeling overwhelmed with him finally taking you, it was everything you'd wanted and everything he’d always wanted/

"I want you though Binnie, all of you," You whispered seductively, he slipped his fingers out of you and began pumping himself in his hand to slick himself in your arousal as he watched you rub your clit for him.

“Need you Binnie,” You moaned out making eye contact with him as he pumped himself faster at the thought of being inside of you, the amount of times he’d done this in his apartment. Thinking about you while jerking himself off was unimaginable. 

"S-Shit, you're so fucking beautiful." He grunted lining himself up at your entrance, he looked at you asking for approval and you nodded as he slowly sank into you. 

"A-ah fuck," He grunted as your nails dug into his biceps, he sank all the way into you and held himself still as he felt your pussy clenching around him needly sucking him into you. 

"You're so tight," His comment made you whimper and he chuckled seeing you like this, you'd done nothing but tease and flirt all evening but now you were beneath him begging for him to move. The sounds you were making drove him wild and he slowly began thrusting into you, pulling you further off the edge of the table to angle himself deeper.

He hooked one of your legs over your shoulder and held you in place on the table thrusting roughly into you.

"Shit! Changbin!" You cried out hands desperate to hold back onto him to steady yourself from falling off the table. He kissed you passionately as he continued to fuck into you with small yet powerful thrusts. 

You knew you weren't going to last long, you'd dreamt of this moment happening for months and here it was. 

"I'm close Changbin," You moaned out to him and it only made him more animalistic, his hips began snapping in and out of you at an unspeakable pace that had your head spinning. You cried out his name as he took his thumb and began rubbing your sensitive clit, he wanted to feel you cum around him. 

"S-Shit!" You screamed feeling your high hitting you and pushing through you intensely, your legs shook as you came around him and he continued fucking into you. 

"I-I'm cumming!" You whimpered hips bucking so hard that the table was starting to shake and wobble beneath you both. Changbin grunted thrusting into you one last time and burying himself deep inside as he came into you filling you up as he moaned out your name.

You stay there for a couple of minutes with him still inside of you trying to catch your breath and come down from the highs. 

"Whoa," You whispered once you were both cleaned up and the table was cleaned. 

"That's all you have to say?" He chuckled coming over to you, your ass was pressed against the table as he wrapped his arm around you. 

"What do you want me to say? 'Thank God It's Friday?'" You stared at him and he shook his head at you softly placing a kiss on both cheeks before leaving one on your lips.

"No, I want you to say that you'll come home with me tonight." You nodded at him, 

"Then I'll go home with you tonight." You whispered to him leaning forward and giving him another kiss, 

"But first I have to delete the camera footage from the main office." You told him as you pointed up at the CCTV cameras in the restaurant. 

A/n: This was written last night so if there’s any mistakes I’m sorry but I love this and I loved the idea when @taestannie​ came to me with it and I just had to do this

Tagline: 

@writingdreamsnottragedies​ @snowy-meowl​ @jooniesdarlingdimples​ 

[rikumorimachisgirl]

Iris, I like your Miya Twins hc! Please write more!

Hello, Anon! Thank you so much, I'm happy to hear you enjoyed the HC I made. I hope that you enjoy this one, too. I thought I'd write about how they met/fell in love with you. 💕

Title: Falling in love (with the Miya Twins)

Word count: 1,816

Genre: Fluff

Disclaimer: I don't own Haikyuu!! nor its characters, but the HC below is my idea.

You and Atsumu had been classmates since middle school, and you, fortunately (or unfortunately) always end up sitting next to each other at some point during the school year. 

He knew that puberty wasn't kind to you - what with having bad breakouts, and excess pounds. He also knew that you had a thing for him back then - stealing glances when you thought he wasn't aware, sneaking into the gym a few days a week to watch him practice, and bringing extra pens for him because you knew he was bound to forget his own. 

Since there were very limited choices of schools in your district, he knew you'd end up studying in Inarizaki, and he was open to the fact that you'd end up being classmates again. BUT - what he didn't know was that you were starting to bloom into a young lady and that you've shed some weight since he last saw you. 

While he didn't exactly fall in love with you the moment he laid his eyes on 'High school you', he was enchanted - quite so that he often caught himself stealing glances at you and asking himself, "did she always have rosy cheeks" or "why hadn't I noticed how deep her dimples are", and he'd immediately look elsewhere when he knows you'd notice him watching.

Since you no longer seemed interested in following him around, nor did you seem to find the idea of watching volleyball practices remotely amusing, he thought he ought to let you know that he was even more amazing now than in middle school. He would talk louder when you were around (even if what he says doesn't make sense). "Samu, yer wonderful older brother is here to lend you a hand," he once called out to his younger twin when he knew that you spotted his twin in the hall with an armload of books. "Huh? Our parents have a child other than the two of us," the quieter twin gasped. "Shut yer trap and give me that!"

He started leaving notes in your locker, too. He'd try his hardest to copy Osamu's penmanship and write the lyrics of a song he heard that made him think of you, or a cheesy love quote he found in Kita's Literature textbook, or sometimes, he'd write something random like, 'your pen writes so smoothly', or 'oversized jackets don't look good on you', and 'your notes are the neatest I've ever borrowed'. 

He knew you read the notes, but you just didn't give off the reaction he was hoping for… or any reaction for that matter (you were pretty hard to read, and it was driving him crazy. Lol!)

A day before the Volleyball Team left for the Nationals, he left another note on your locker that read, 'I like you and I want to get to know you better, but if you're not interested, it's cool. If only middle school me paid more attention to middle school you, then maybe High School us would've been a thing.'

He thinks about you when he's not busy with practice, and when he gets a wee bit anxious about their upcoming game (because believe me, he does get nervous about it), he thinks about the possibility of you showing up in his games and he gets all fired up. 

He saw you cheering with your friends in the bleachers, during the championship match against Itachiyama. He knew he had to work harder because he wanted you to see how cool he was. He played his best - serving, setting, and blocking the ball perfectly every single time. Unfortunately, luck wasn't on their side, and they lost by a few points. No one in the team was more crushed about the outcome than he was, and he stayed in the locker room a little while longer after everyone had left. 

"Miya-san!" You were the first person who greeted him as soon as he stepped out of the locker. His eyes widened and he didn't react for a few seconds because he couldn't believe you were standing in front of him. Clearing your throat, you gave him a shy smile and said, "you were amazing! I think you did even better than when we were in middle school." 

He continued to stare at you, which made you even more nervous. "A-anyway, I wanted to say I thought you were the best player out there - win or lose. And… and.. If you ever need to borrow my notes, I could pass them on to you when you get back to school." You shifted your weight awkwardly from one foot to another, thinking you must've looked like an idiot in front of him because he was just staring at you like so. "That's all I wanted to say," you said awkwardly, "that, and I know it was you leaving the notes in my locker. I thought you should know that I also like you, and I want to get to know you, Miya-san."

"Atsumu," he finally said, cutting you off, and took a step closer. You felt something warm over your shoulders and suddenly, you were engulfed by his scent radiating from his jacket. "If you want to get to know me, you can start by calling me Atsumu."

"Atsumu," you smiled back, holding his jacket closer to you. "But I thought you said oversized jackets don't suit me."

"Yeah, but mine looks perfect on you," he shrugged before offering his arm out to you. "Well, shall we go get to know each other then? I don't know about you, but I feel so bad I could use some comforting and a nice big serving of Chūtoro." And with that began your love story, and the rest, as they say, was history. 

Osamu and you go way back. The Miyas lived next door so you practically grew up with the twins. 

Since you were the same age, you used to play with them when you were younger. Of the two boys, you got along with Osamu better and you shared a lot of secrets - including a secret hideout, secret handshake, and secret codes. He knew everything about you, including - much to his dismay - the huge crush you had on his twin.

You love playing board games with Osamu and would happily come to their house so you could beat his ass in a game of Monopoly, Scrabble, Risk, and Clue. You were usually so good at this, except when you spot an Atsumu sighting nearby and lose your composure. Osamu would tease you, of course, but little did you know how much he despised it - especially since his twin also thought you were cute. This carried on until you went to high school. 

He completely lost it one weekend. When you and Aran came over to play Guesstures with him, Atsumu decided to join and insisted that the two of you team up. Osamu rolled his eyes, and hoped you'd pick up on his mood, but you were currently on cloud nine. 

Thirty minutes, ten cards, and a dozen googly eyes (between you and Atsumu) later, Osamu declared he was done playing and stormed off. Clueless as ever, you looked at Atsumu and Aran to help you understand what was happening, and the two guys just shook their heads in silence. 

You were sorely mistaken for thinking that he would be over his upset when Monday rolled in. He avoided you like the plague the moment you both set foot outside the gates of your houses. "Samu," you called and jogged up to him, but he didn't stop or slow down. "I'm in a hurry today, I'm on class duty," he said coolly, without sparing you a glance. And all you could do was watch your gray-haired best friend disappear into the distance.

He didn't bother waiting for you during breaks and lunchtime and talking to him after class was a lost cause due to his volleyball practice. You initially thought giving him space would help, but two weeks had passed, and you were desperately missing his company, so you sought the help of the only other person you could think of at the moment. 

After stalking him for most of the day, Aran finally agreed to help. He called Osamu so that the two of you could talk, but your best friend was too stubborn to care. Little did you know that after you left, Atsumu and Aran confronted him for acting like a jerk. 

"The hell was that about, Samu?" Atsumu called out, just as his twin was about to walk back to the court. "It's none of yer business, Tsumu," he replied nonchalantly. "Sure it is! You like her, don't you? Why don't you just tell her instead of treating her that way?" The older twin said, forcefully grabbing Osamu's arm. "Because she doesn't like me -," Osamu replied harshly. "Oh, I wouldn't be too sure about that," Aran said, as he patted Osamu's shoulder and walked back to the court. 

He tossed and turned in bed that evening, thinking of what Aran had said. Grabbing his phone, he went through all your messages from year's back, across all the different messaging channels - he went as far back as the time you confessed you liked Atsumu, and the entire year you only wanted to talk about his popular twin. And then he noticed how you stopped mentioning Atsumu at one point and started asking how his day went or if he's eaten. He saw the food pictures you'd sent from your trips with your family, and how you wished you could eat those with him someday. 

And then it hit him - you wanted to be with HIM - not Atsumu."I'm such a fucking jerk!" He groaned. 

He was waiting at your gate bright and early the next morning. He hadn't slept much nor thought about what to say to you, all he knew was that he had to see you. As he thought about what to say, he heard your front door open. "Samu-san?" He straightened up at the sound of your voice and saw you looking genuinely confused. "Y/N-chan, I… I…," he started to say as you hurriedly opened the gate to stand in front of him. 

"I like you, Y/N-chan, and I was jealous of my idiot brother." Your eyes widened in surprise at his admission. "So, I'm sorry I acted like a jerk, but I hope you could -you know…," he trailed off, blushing furiously. "Did you want me to forgive you or go out with you? Because I could do both," you said, as you grabbed his hand and looked into his dark eyes. "You… you do?" The shocked look on his face made you chuckle, and you tiptoed to plant a kiss on your boyfriend's cheek. 

The end. 

[theonewiththefanfics]

Because Hearts Get Broken - I Know That You’re Scared (Part 2/3)

Continuation of ‘Because Hearts Get Broken’ - see my masterlist for it :)

Synopsis: She’s trying to move on. He’s still hoping for a chance

Pairing: Harry Styles x fem!Reader

Genre: angsty, bruh, but with a sprinkle of fluff and a hopeful (??) ending

Warnings: swearing, emotionally distant mindset... can’t think of anything else, really. 

Word count: 3656

Heartbreak isn’t loud. Y/N doesn’t even know if it had a sound what it would be like. Like glass shattering against the ground? Or maybe like a book being ripped and shredded apart, memories of time spent together ruined. Or maybe it'd like the crackle of a fire, as it slowly but surely crept up and turned everything into charred remains before it became nothing but ash and was carried away by the winds.

        No one in her family talked about feelings. If they did all they received back was ‘suck it up. That’s life’. After that, it was time to move on. So, when she got together with probably the most open-hearted person in the world, it was almost laughable.

        Y/N had always been the friend others went for advice, relationship or not, but she herself never asked for one, simply because she didn’t wanna bother anyone. Not that she thought the others were bothers. It’s just having grown up in a household where emotions were basically suppressed, opening up was quite impossible. 

       Then came Harry. Perfect, impossible, loving, sweet, kind, ridiculously open Harry. God, she just wanted to punch him because no one should be that nice. 

        January 2nd, 2020 he’d called her up, having gotten Y/N’s number from Sarah (after ages of pleading, because as much as Sarah sometimes couldn’t handle drunk Y/N, she’d defend and protect her until the very last breath), and they set up a coffee date.

        Slowly but surely, they spent more and more time together and seeing as her job had her based in LA for a while, visiting Harry was no problem. Then the pandemic hit, and on March 18th the whole stay-at-home order was issued in California. 

        Y/N was in a panic. She was meant to leave LA in ten days, and the hotel her company was paying for had been paid until the 28th. With all flights getting rapidly cancelled, she was scrambling to get one, but even her firm was unable to get her a seat. That’s when Harry had called up, his tone a worried, urgent mess as to if Y/N was alright and what her plans were.

        Of course, him being him, he immediately offered her a place to stay.

        “We don’t even need to stay in the same room, there’s like five other guest rooms you can take up,” he tried to joke, and ease her tension.

        “Fuck, Harry, just rub it in how rich you are.” Y/N cackled, and when she heard him laugh in the background, her heart did that stupid fluttery thing she’d grown so used to. 

        It took a little persuasion from Harry’s side, and reassurance at least seven more times, that Y/N wouldn’t be intruding on his space, and he was more than happy to spend the quarantine with someone else, instead of being alone, and that in no way her taking over a room or two would limit him and his own artistic endeavours. So, apprehensively Y/N packed her suitcases, grabbed an uber, wearing a mask the whole time, and drove to Harry’s place.  

When Y/N saw the gated community and the palace he was living in, the inside of her cheek was practically bitten in half. They’d barely been together for three months, and now she was basically moving in with him, but given how it was either live with Harry in a fucking mansion or walk across the country to New York, she took the first option. 

        As much as Harry loved on her, pretty much shagging her brains out every possible second, and loving on her until her cheeks hurt from smiling, the anxiety about the whole situation never left.

Harry was worried about his mom and sister, Y/N was scared of what was happening in New York. So, when the state boarders opened, immediately, although reluctantly, she flew back to her apartment and her dying plants, but never forgetting to FaceTime with Harry. But they couldn't stay away long from one another.

        Which is why they decided, given how she was able to work from home now, and Harry could do so as well, they’d fly over to one another every two weeks, quarantine together for the next two weeks, and then fly to the other place. Her boss actually loved the idea that Y/N was so willing to go back and forth between the two cities, so all her flights were written off as business expenses, not to mention when she said she wouldn’t need a hotel, he was more than thrilled to let her be in LA whenever she wanted, as long as her work got done.

        It seemed funny to her now, that before Y/N couldn’t wait to get back to the sunny state of Cali. Now when she had to fly over (which was just a couple of times since the breakup), going through JFK security made her sweat, and landing was a vomit-inducing action. And the last time she’d gotten back to the home-base state, she’d actually thrown up, Harry’s last words ringing in her ears.

        It’d been three weeks since Sarah’s New Year party, and three weeks since she’d spoken to him although he still kept calling. Every morning she’d wake up to a couple of notifications of missed calls, and each time she’d listen to the messages; it was all the same – I miss your voice. And every time she’d listen to it, her thoughts were exactly the same. You could say it was almost pathetic as to how many times she’d listened to his albums, just to hear him sing. Almost like he used to do right before she fell asleep.

        But Y/N had no one else but herself to blame for it. She’d been the one to call it quits, she’d been the one who walked out of his apartment, and the one who decided she wouldn’t fight. 

        Now, she was sat by her small magazine table, documents spread out in front of her as if a tornado had rolled through, while an apple and cinnamon candle spread its delicious scent through the air. 

        Y/N would only admit it once because, well, the proof was all over the apartment, but she was very lazy when it came to taking away the Christmas décor. It made her feel warm and comfy. And it reminded her of Harry. How when she’d woken up after their first date, already in the new year, he still had colourful fairy lights strung across the curtain rods, giving everything a soft, cosy glow. 

        He’d also been the one who convinced her that a real Christmas tree was so much better than a plastic one. 

        “Yes, it’s a hassle,” he’d said through slurred words as they’d slinked away from the partying crowd after the countdown was done, and each of them had taken three shots of vodka. “But it’s so worth it. Smells like a fucking forest in your room. Like proper Christmas!”

        And although she’d spent this holiday season alone, Harry had been right. Just like he’d been right about Y/N.

        She tapped her pen against the glass surface and readjusted her position on the floor.

        “This is the periodic table, noble gases stable, halogens and alkali react aggressively,” Y/N hummed as she highlighted the incorrect parts of the paper in front of her. “Each period will see new outer shells, while electrons are added moving to the right.”

        Just as she was about to start off the second verse, her doorbell rang, and her stomach gurgled in response.

        “Ugh,” she groaned to herself. “Pasta come to fuckin’ mama.”

        But when she opened the door, she wasn’t greeted by the Uber Eats delivery man.

        “Harry.”

        Y/N was taken aback. She didn’t expect him to visit her, especially not so soon and especially to fly out to New York (as much as he was most likely there to do other stuff as well, her gut told her he was there for her). 

Sure, she hoped that one day they could be friends, if not acquaintances, he was too important of a person for her to lose completely from her life, but that was looking like five years into the future.

        “I bring gifts.” He raised his hand where her boxes of food hung in a paper bag. “Can I?”

        “Uh, yeah, of course!” She shook her head to clear it from the shock and allowed Harry to enter into the warmth of her apartment and escape from the cold January air.

        “I was on my way up when the delivery man came in, and I recognised by the boxes it was yours.” The smirk on Harry’s face was something Y/N loved to see, but usually, she liked to also wipe it away. Preferably with her own lips. 

        She let out a small scoff, not waiting to see if he followed inside, as she scurried to the adjacent kitchen and grabbed two plates, while he opened up the white cardboard containers and allowed the delicious smell of spaghetti Bolognese as well as a carbonara waft into the air. Y/N had wanted to eat the latter at some point during the night when the munchies hit, but she supposed Harry was probably hungry as well. “Maybe there’s someone else here, who likes Italian.”

        “Probably, but only you would order from the shittiest Italian restaurant just because they have pesto and parmesan bread.”

        “Hey!” She slapped his arm. “They’re not shit. They provide me with everything I need – calories, carbs and bread.”

        “What more does a person need?”

        “Exactly!”

        Both of them let out small chuckles and then settled down on her couch to dig into the meal. They ate in silence, and despite Y/N’s initial shock, it wasn’t uncomfortable. In fact, they were sitting pretty much shoulder to shoulder, as she watched Harry re-read the spread-out articles on the table and use her marker to tick some stuff that could use re-wording. He had a knack for words, after all.

        “I uh…” He wiped his mouth with one of the napkins provided by the diner before clasping his fingers together and looking at the woman sitting next to him, as she slowly set her empty plate on the small cupboard beside the sofa. “I was hoping we could talk.”

        Y/N hung her head. She should’ve known he wasn’t here to just check-in and have some dinner. “We already did. Twice might I add. What makes you think this time the ending will be different?”

        “Third times the charm?” Harry let out a little laugh, and she rolled her eyes. “Look, I didn’t wanna leave everything the way I did. I – I said some pretty shit things.”

        Y/N fiddled with her thumb. ‘I had,’ Harry’s words echoed in her head. ‘Only she didn’t trust that I loved her the same.’ “Nothing that was untrue though.”

        “See, that’s where I think both of us are wrong.”

        That was not what Y/N thought this conversation would be whatsoever.

        “I – “ He cleared his throat. “I know I said I didn’t think you trusted me that I loved you enough. I think you know I did – do.”

        If Y/N still had any food in her mouth she would’ve choked on it, as she bit back the rising lump in her throat, but instead of interrupting him, she let Harry continue. “And honestly, it’s not your fault that it fell apart, ‘s my fault too. I pushed you to do something, you didn’t want to, weren’t comfortable with, when you told me not to… just because I wanted to feel important, ‘nd because I wanted to get a role in your life you weren’t ready for yet. And I’m sorry for doing that. I should’ve never forced you.”

        “Harry…” Y/N was at a complete loss. “I – I don’t really know what to say.”

        He took her left hand in his and clasped it, finally able to properly say what'd been eating away at him. “During the New Year party, I didn’t go about it the right way. I was just – I was just still so hurt, and I wanted you to hurt the same because… it didn’t seem like you cared at all, which I know you did… I know you loved me, and…” He took in a deep breath. “I hope that you still do. At least enough to give us another chance. We can take it at your pace,” he instantly added, knowing how she’d react, expecting the sigh and the almost tired and resigned ‘Harry’ that escaped her lips. But he’d say everything on his mind. “You can take how long you need to feel like you can trust me with what’s bothering you.”

        “Harry,” she repeated, but it didn’t seem like he was about to stop.

        “But I think we can do it, and we can do it right this time. We know where we stand, we won't make the same mistakes.”

        Y/N’s hand came to rest against his cheek, and he practically melted, engulfing her palm with his as to not let her touch leave his skin for even a second. “Are you even listening to yourself?”

        “Look, I know, you’re scared, and the thing is, so am I. I don’t want it to end like that or end. Period. But I do want to try again.”

        And if nothing but to humour him Y/N asked, “And if it does end the same way?”

        “It won’t.” He was so sure of it, she had to laugh.

        “Harry, the big difference between us is – you like to talk about your feelings. You like to go through them and stuff. I don’t. I feel… icky when I even think about talking to someone of what I feel. We’re just too opposite.”

        “Opposites attract.”

        “No,” she pointed a finger at him, stifling her laughter, though Harry seemed not to be hiding his smile. “Do not use science against me.”

        He raised his hands as if in surrender. “I’m not, I’m just supporting my point with facts. Scientific facts, that you can’t argue against.”

        “I mean…” Y/N shrugged her shoulders. “I dunno… Maybe it was a good thing we ended it when we did. It was ten months – almost ten – amazing months, but… can you imagine if we’d gone so far as to think about moving in together, and then it fell apart? That would’ve been a whole different kind of a mess.”

        “Do you love me?”

        Y/N sighed, resting her cheek against the couch while she smoothed away his brown locks from his face. “Of course, I do. Don’t think there will be a time in my life I don’t.”

        “Then that’s all I need.”

         “Is that really enough for you?”

        “Yes.”

        And there was no lie in that single word. Did he want for Y/N to feel comfortable enough with him that she talked about whatever concerned her, however small? Of course. But he also wanted her to be comfortable enough to be herself. If that meant her keeping things to herself, and trusting Harry to support her decisions, it’d be enough.

        Her Y/E/C eyes hadn’t left his green ones, and they only widened as he leaned forwards and pressed his forehead to hers.

        “Haz…”

        Fuck, how he’d missed her calling him that. It wasn’t an exclusive nickname by any means, but when it came from Y/N’s mouth, it was the sweetest sound in the universe.

        He was her Haz when he broke a plate, he was her Haz when she threw her head back as pleasure exploded through her body, he was her Haz when he took her hand in his to quell her anxiety, and he was her Haz when he gave her tissues as they watched a movie, and she couldn’t help but cry each time a dog or cat died (or a dragon, but he was a sobbing mess as well because ‘Dragonheart’ messed with them both).

        His lips were so close, and just as they skimmed over her own, Y/N’s phone rang making her physically spring back, eyes like saucers.

        “S – Sorry,” she stammered, scrambling to find the annoying device between the cushions. It was Sarah’s name that lit up her screen.

        “Hey, what’s up?” Y/N started, voice trembling and shaky. God, when had she suddenly gone so out of breath? And why was her head so dizzy, as if she’d just gotten off a rollercoaster?

        “Yeah, he’s here,” she replied, eyeing Harry. “Yeah, just a sec,” and Y/N handed him her phone with a quiet ‘why’s your phone always dead?’

        ‘Didn’t know it died’, he said, but that was untrue. He’d turned it off so this sort of a situation wouldn’t happen; so a call or text wouldn’t interrupt him at the most critical moment. He had to give the universe a proper talk once he was done.

        “ ‘Ello?” 

        Seconds of silence passed, and Y/N didn’t like how weird it was, so she took the empty plates and put them in the sink to soak.

        “Now?”

        She could see the frustration rise in Harry as his forehead creased, and he let a hand rake through his hair. “Fuck’s sake… yeah, I’ll be there in ten. ‘S alright,” he sighed. “Not your fault Sarah. Tell Jeff not to worry, and that I’m not dead.”

        With that, he pressed the red button and ended the call, drumming his fingers against the screen. God, he really didn’t want to leave. Not now. Not after he’d been so close.

        “Uh, work?” Y/N asked, arms crossed in front of her as if she was protecting herself from the answer. 

        “Yeah, sorry. I uh a meeting from tomorrow got rescheduled for tonight, like right now because there was some sort of an emergency from the label’s side."

        “ ‘S alright, I get it. Showbiz never stops.” Y/N motioned to the door. “I’ll walk you out.”

        There were a couple of times in his life Harry wanted to give himself a beating. Once when he was six and Gemma had told on him after he’d broken a favourite vase of their mothers, he decided to get revenge and destroy her favourite plushie. He’d never forget the tears Gem had cried, and how absolutely heartbroken she’d sounded. He vowed although he was the little brother, to never ever let anyone hurt her like that, and if someone did, they’d meet their maker sooner rather than later.

        The second time was when he was still a teenager, One Direction on the rise, and it had gotten to his head just a little bit more than it should’ve. He’d gotten really messed up at a party (which Harry shouldn’t have even been at). The disappointment on his mother’s face as she scolded him through FaceTime was gut-wrenching enough to make him promise to always know the limit.

        And Harry guessed this was the third time.

        He could’ve said no to the meeting. Jeff was there and so was Sarah and Mitch. The three of them could handle it for him. It’s not like he would mind much whatever they came up with if it had given him the time to settle things with Y/N. 

        “It was great to see you, Harry.” She brought him out from the thoughts as she unlocked the door and opened it for him, bringing her jumper sleeves over her palms to hide from the cold outside air. “Really. I – I missed you, and honestly, I’m glad we got to talk. I uh well, take care. And say hi to Sarah from me please.”

        “I – “ he took hold of Y/N’s wrist before she could turn away. “I’m holding a small concert in a week. Here in uh in New York. It’s for charity… I want you to come.”

        “I umm… I’ll have to check if I’m free, but yeah. I will. Thank you.”

        “ ‘S no problem… Sarah missed you like crazy now that you’re not in LA as often… ‘n yeah. Anyway. I’ll put your name on the guest list, so just bring some ID, and they’ll let you backstage.”

        “Okay,” she whispered and gave him a small, genuine smile. “Thank you. I’ll really try to come.”

        “Yeah.”

        And he was going to go without doing anything else. Harry truly was. But as he released her wrist, going to the stairs, he gave Y/N one last glance back, and it was like his feet had a mind of their own, as they carried him back to where she stood by the still open door, grabbed her by the waist and pressed his lips to hers. 

        He expected Y/N to push him away, but to his very huge delight, she didn’t. Instead, her fingers wove through his hair and her legs almost on instinct rose so he could take her by the thighs, wrap them around his middle and press her against the doorway. 

        The groan that Harry swallowed from Y/N only ignited the fire that’d been burning ever since he met her, but it wasn’t the destructive kind, like the ones that leave nothing but charcoal behind. It was warm. Safe. Like the light of a fairy light. Like the embrace of home.

        “Come to the show,” he muttered against Y/N’s lips, as they broke apart, and he set her down on the ground, not letting go until he was sure she was steady on her feet. “I’ll wait for you.”

        With that, he left because if he didn’t, he’d make sure Y/N would be unable to walk for a week.

        And Y/N watched him retreat while her brain fought with her heart.

        What was it he’d sung in ‘Golden’, as he’d twirled her in the sea of bodies and glitter a little bit more than a year ago? ‘Loving is the antidote?’ 

        Maybe love was the antidote to her fear.

        She closed the door.

        And smiled.

Tags (crossed out wouldn’t take):

Everything tags: @lumelgy @palaiasaurus64 @supernaturalbaesduh @breezy1415 @crazy--me @thatawkwardlittlefangirl @sea040561 @staryeyedgirl @deathbyarabbit @s-c-a-r-e-d-po-t-t-e-r @reblogger-not-a-blogger @m-a-t-91 @dalilx @i-need-a-hero-i-need-a-loki @maladaptive-ninja-returns @averyrogers83 @in-the-end-im-still-trash @gallifreyansass @dewy-biitch @avxgers @unlikelygalaxygiver @magicwithaknife @ollyoxenfrees @bnhvrdy @tvwhoresblog @celebsimagines @thatkindofgurl @sj-thefan @teenwolflover28 @lestersglitterglue @im-squished

Harry Styles tags: @sarcasticallywitty15​ @breezykpop​ @girlboss99​ @harrystylesdoesntknowiexist​ @alliyjane​ @sirtommyholland​

A/N: I’ve been listening to ‘Fine Line’, ‘The Periodic Table Song’, ‘Welcome to the Christmas Parade’ (Welcome to the Black Parade mix with All I Want For Christmas) and ‘Rasputin’ Boney M remix exclusively... I feel like a complete crackhead... :D

Decided to tag also those who wanted a part 2 but didn’t necessarily ask to be tagged :)

P.S. I guess there will be a part 3???

P.S.S. if you wanna be added to a tag list drop me a message :)