#will finally get to scan some more stuff this weekend probably

[intravenous-agnostic]

thought about starting a queue but then remembered i’m on here 24/7 so there would be no point

[jamdoughnutmagician]

Tiny Match-maker:Prince Charming

Bucky Barnes x Single mom!Reader Fluff

Here it is! It may have taken 6 months to finish, but it's finally here! A part 2 to Tiny-Match maker

Hopefully next time I write something with them, it won't take as long!

Word Count:2,285

Masterlist // Bucky Barnes Masterlist

“Hey Tin-man, can you focus a little more over here?” Sam grumbled quietly from beside him. They were meant to be staking out this run-down warehouse where there had been whisperings of underground groups dealing in un-tested batches of super soldier serum, but Bucky’s attention had entirely been diverted down to the mobile phone in his hands.

Bucky:Hey, sorry things have been a little busy for me lately, but I’d love to take you out for coffee sometime, say maybe this Sunday?”

 “What are you even doing anyway?” Sam questions, trying to lean over Bucky’s shoulder to look at the phone screen.

You:Sunday sounds perfect, I can ask Amanda to watch Lottie for me, so whatever time works best for you.

Amanda was the mom who lived in the apartment opposite yours, and very kindly offered to look after Lottie for you when you needed to do stuff alone. It also helped that Lottie was very good friends with her son, Mason, so you had no worries about leaving your daughter in Amanda’s safety. 

Bucky:How about the little coffee shop on Fifth Avenue? Maybe at 2.00?

You:Honestly, you had me at coffee shop.

“Dude, put your phone away! You’re supposed to be keeping watch!” Sam grumbled quietly, shaking his head at him.

You make your way across the hall to knock on Amanda’s door, and sure enough she greets you with that warming smile.

“Hey, I was wondering if you might be able to look after Lottie for me this weekend, like this Sunday?” you asked hopefully.

“Sure! We’d love to have Lottie come round, wouldn’t we Mase?” she smiles down at her son who was peeking his head out from behind her legs to see what all the fuss was about.

Mason frantically nods his head at hearing that his best friend was coming over for a visit.

“I’m gonna show her my transformers!” he giggles excitedly before running off.

“So, what is it? You’ve got a hot date with some hunky guy or something?” Amanda laughs.

You can’t stop the burning flush that rises to your cheeks.

“Oh so it is a hunky guy.” Amada says, raising a dark, arched brow in your direction.

“It’s just a quiet cup of coffee, and we’ll see how it goes from there.”

“Well, I hope you have fun darling. You deserve it.”

“Thanks Mandy, you’re a life-saver!”

With Lottie being the curious and excitable young girl that she was, it didn’t leave a lot of time to meet potential romantic connections. 

But chance, and maybe your very own tiny little match-maker, had pushed you towards Bucky and for the first time in a long time you were excited to go on a date.

Once you had dropped off Lottie at Amanda’s place you busied yourself with tidying up before deciding to get ready. Setting about finding the perfect outfits to wear you figured that a comfortable casual dress and leggings would be the perfect thing to wear. Hoping that your choice of clothing didn't seem too dressed up for what was probably going to be a casual date.

You took the time to yourself to apply a light dusting of makeup, just enough to enhance your features.

With a final dab of lipgloss and a ruffle of your hair you throw on your coat and grab your purse and make your way out of your apartment, leaving plenty of time to walk into the city to meet up with Bucky.

The crisp golden orange leaves crunched underneath as you walked down the street, nearing closer to the coffee shop that you had agreed to meet up at. As you got closer the more nervous you got. This was the first date you'd been on in a long long time, what were you even going to talk about? What if Bucky decides he doesn't actually like you? Were you actually just making a fool of yourself? All of the worst case scenarios scan through your brain at a hundred miles an hour.

“Hey, there you are!” Bucky smiles jogging to meet you. “Guess we showed up at the same time. You wanna head inside?”

Bucky holds the door open, the bell above tinkling as he does. The quiet murmur of chatter fills the coffee shop.

You wait beside him as you line up to make your order. Your eyes cast downwards for a brief moment, and when they do, you can’t help but notice the way his hand hesitates next to yours. Almost like he wants to hold your hand, but he isn’t quite sure if making a move like that might be considered too forward. It’s sweet to see how adorably shy and nervous he is, and it does wonders to settle your own nerves to see that you were both in the same boat together.

Taking it upon yourself you slyly slip your hand in his, lacing your fingers between his. 

His cheeks heat up with a lovable pinkish glow, as he squeezes your hand with gentle pulse.

You reach the front of the line and both bucky and you place your orders.

“One black coffee for me please.” Bucky says. “And a…” he trails off for you to give your order.

“A pumpkin spice latte for me please.” 

“Is that for here or to-go?” The batista behind the counter asks.

“To-go please.” Bucky smiles. 

“I thought we were staying here?” You ask curiously, turning to him with your eyebrows drawn together.

“Actually I had a little something in mind for us, if you'll indulge me?” He says with his soft smile quirking into a cheeky grin.

The batista behind the counter hands both of you your respective drinks, and Bucky pays for them. Before you can protest he's there with that charming smile once more.

“Come on now, it’s my treat”

You link your arm with his, turning to him with a smile of your own.

“Okay then Sergeant Barnes, lead the way.”

He walks with you through the busy city streets, his hand still holding yours as you sip your coffees.

“Y’know, I didn’t have you down as a pumpkin spice kind of person.” Bucky says, taking a sip from his own coffee cup.

“I don’t think you’re in any position to judge me,  Mr. “One Black Coffee”.” you laugh at him.  “I always treat myself to a pumpkin spice latte this time of year, it’s one of the little things that I look forward to.” you smile. “So where are we headed?”

“I just think if you’re going to go for a date in the city, you should probably see it the way it should be seen.” Bucky said with a smile as he led you by the hand through the park’s gate.

“Oh, so this is a date, is it?” you ask playfully.

“Well, I hope so at least.” he flushes with an adorable pink blush before coughing to cover the slight nervous crack in his voice. “Central park is at its peak in the fall, and it’s hands-down the best view of the city all year.”

You walk around the park hand in hand, and you have to admit he's right, the beautiful wash of burnt orange, rusted red and golden leaves clinging to the branches of trees lining the pathway. The chill of the crisp autumn air whipping through you in a refreshing breeze and the tempting scent of warm cinnamon floats from a nearby doughnut vendor, beckoning you to indulge in his sweet treats. This certainly was the right way to see the city.

“So, tell me more about you?” he asks with a soft voice.

“What’s there to tell? I’m not all that interesting, I promise you.” you brush off.

“Nonsense. I wanna hear everything.”

“Okay, well Lottie and I moved to the city not too long ago, my relationship with her dad gradually came to an end when I found out I was pregnant with her. I was excited, and I thought he was too, y’know? But a few weeks down the line we started fighting a lot more, and one night he just decided that being a parent, being a father, wasn’t something that he wanted, and that was that.”

“Well, if you ask me, he’s missing out big time. Lottie seems like a great kid.” Bucky says with no hint of irony or sarcasm in his voice whatsoever.

“She sure is.” you smile at his kind words. “So I moved to the city to get away from him, to start fresh. It definitely wasn’t easy at first, being a single mother in a new city but things are good now and I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“That’s such a great attitude to have, I admire that.” 

“Anyway, enough about me, what about you huh? I feel like I see you almost all the time splashed across the newspapers or on my television screen, but I guess that’s not how you want to be known.”

“Well the media likes to try to pin me down as one thing, which I guess is a fair assumption, I’ve done bad things, my life is full of danger and chaos, but I don’t want to be known for that. I just want an easy life. I just want to slow down and take my time to enjoy the things that make me happy.”

“..and what is it that makes you happy?” you ask softly as you chance to look at him.

“Right now, this,” he smiles, gently swinging your hand in his. “..is making me happy.”

You both finish up your coffees before throwing them in the trash can, continuing on your trail through the crisp autumnal landscape of central park.

You continue talking with him about everything and anything. Conversation with Bucky felt so easy. He listened to you, he never made you feel silly, and everything about being with him just felt right.

As you round a corner a gentle melody fills the air, and as you turn around you see the brightly coloured lights and gentle whir of a carousel. You looked at the ride with a fondness, it was something that you had loved as a little girl, a ride that you had endlessly begged your parents to go on time and time again.

“Do you wanna go on it?” Bucky asks, when he sees how your eyes light up at the attraction.

“No, no, I think I’m a bit too old for carousel rides.”

“Come on, we can go on it together. It’ll be fun I promise.” he says, holding out his hand for you to take.

He hands over the money for the tickets, and holds your hand as  you swing your leg over the horse.

 “M’lady.”

He lifted himself onto the horse beside you, and soon the ride whirls into life. The warm sparkle of the lights bounce off the mirrors, and the music bounces along in time with the rise and fall of the carousel horses.

You can’t help but smile, bright laughter bubbling from you at being able to enjoy yourself like this, completely free of judgement.  Bucky gives you a soft smile and warm laugh of his own in return, and in this moment you knew that saying yes to this date was the right thing for you.

The ride slows to a stop and Bucky is there to help you as you come down off your horse, one gentle hand on the small of your back the other holding your hand.

“I told you it’d be fun.” he says smugly.

“Yeah it was pretty fun. I haven’t done anything like that since I was a kid.”

The glow of the carousel’s light sparkles in his steely blue eyes, and it’s only then that you realise that his hand is still resting on your back, almost curving along the curve of your hip.

His hand quickly pulls away when he realises, trying to hide his blooming blush with his hand moving to scratch the back of his neck. His nervous energy around you just makes him all the more cute in your eyes. 

“Shall we?” you offer your arm for him to take, looping your arm with his as you walk around the rest of central park.

Bucky walks with you back to your apartment block, pausing outside your building with you.

“Thanks for agreeing to go out with me, I had a great time with you.” he smiles.

“I had a great time with you. It was easily one of the better dates I’ve been on in a while.”

“I hope that means that you might be interested in doing this again some time?” Bucky asks you hopefully.

Feeling bold you rise up on your tip-toes to meet him, and place a kiss to his cheek.

“I certainly would be interested in doing this again some time.” you flush. “Thank you for today, Bucky, it’s been wonderful.”

Once you're back at your apartment, with Lottie picked up from Amada’s place, you’re sitting on the couch curled up next to her, Cinderella playing on the tv. Her eyes wide in awe as the pretty princess whirls around the dancefloor with her Prince Charming

“Did you meet a prince today, mommy?” she asks, turning her face away from the screen.

She catches you off guard with her question, so you fire back a question of your own.

“What makes you say that, baby?”

“You were wearing a pretty dress today and your hair was done all pretty too.” her wide smile was too adorable. “So did you meet a prince?”

“You know what Lottie? I might have just found myself my very own Prince Charming.”

@penguinsandpotterheads @ghoul-friendz

@honeyglee @myfavbuckyfics @buckgasms

[pedroshotwifey]

To The Flame chapter 11

Series masterlist

Pairing: Dark Javier Peña x Fem!reader

Chapter word count: 3.9k

Chapter tags/warnings: angst, toxic relationship, fighting, manipulation, mental and physical abuse, major anxiety/panic attacks, chronic overthinking, controlling behavior, unhealthy idolization, stuff I'm probably forgetting

Chapter summary: WAKALA!!

A/N: Welcome to the deep, babes. Get comfy because we're not coming back up :)

*****

You wake up to a cold bed. Again.

You get up quick, whipping your head around the room and trying to find your husband, who you know for a fact has the weekend off. When you find he’s not in your bedroom, you check the bathroom, then the hall, and every room until you’re sure you’re left in an empty apartment. 

He’s not here, which means you’re left alone again in your much too quiet apartment. It’s been a long week for you; all your time spent renovating the apartment with nobody to talk to. You’ve been looking forward to him just being home for the day almost as much as you had been looking forward to your forgotten date last night. 

That pang of hurt that had fallen asleep cradled in your chest last night comes back full force. You quickly push it down as you try to rationalize your thoughts. Maybe he’s out getting breakfast, or maybe he forgot something at the embassy. He could be picking something up from the hardware shop in town. 

You fold your arms around your torso and glance at the clock, scratching the breakfast idea upon seeing it’s about 11:30am. Wherever he is, you just wish he would have told you where he was going beforehand—or at least that he was going to go somewhere in the first place. You scan around the apartment one more time, checking every surface for a note, but come up empty. 

That’s fine, you tell yourself. You’re sure he’ll be back soon. You decide to get ready for the day and brush it off as much as you can. 

Back in your bedroom, you pull out a pair of shorts and a t-shirt before brushing your teeth and pulling them both on. You try not to glance at Javi’s side of the closet as you dress. Some part of you is almost angry at him for leaving like this, which only serves to make you feel guilty. It’s not like he’s doing anything wrong. He’s a grown man who can make his own decisions. You’re not his mom. 

You decide after a cup of coffee that you’ll work on getting the stains out of the hardwood today. It’s a strenuous job, but it’ll keep you from brewing while you wait for your husband to get home. A bucket and scrub bush later, you’re kneeling on the living room floor, sudsing up one of the sections that had been hidden by a rug. 

You try to keep your mind off of him as you work, knowing you’ll just get fired up if you keep feeding yourself annoyances. It half works. You honestly just can’t shake that sadness at the fact that he did indeed leave you alone. It may be selfish, but you just don’t understand why he would want to go anywhere when he’s finally getting a day to be with you. 

But by the time you’re done with the apartment, the floors spotless and you drenched in sweat four hours later, he’s not back. You hadn’t even realized how long you’d been working for, a ball of worry now dropping low into your stomach. There’s no reason he should be gone this long on his day off. Surely he would have told you first even if he was, right?

You sit on the drying floor for a few moments, chewing your lip as you contemplate your next step. It doesn’t settle well with you, but you decide you’ll clean this mess, then get a shower and prepare dinner, and if he’s not back by then, you’ll make some calls.

There’s still a hollow spot in your stomach as you shower, and it only grows once you step out to find that he’s still not back. But you tell yourself to calm the fuck down, and go prepare dinner anyway. If he did go to work, he probably wouldn’t be home for a couple more hours anyway. 

It’s a task to ignore your gut as you get dinner ready, unsure if it’s good or bad that it’s one of the most time-consuming meals to make. You make the dough, wash and cut your ingredients, make the filling, and put it all together in a flurry of anxiety and building dread. 

You swear your lip has bruises on it from how hard you’ve been biting it as you work. Awful thoughts run through you as you clean up and put the dish in the fridge for later. Thoughts of him stuck somewhere without help, of him wounded or—

You blanch just at the thought of that, nausea rolling not just through your stomach, but wracking your entire body. He’s told before how dangerous his job is, how much more he’ll be working in person to down criminals here in Colombia. What if he didn’t have backup? What if he was taken? But he shouldn’t even be at work today…

You can’t even fathom the thought of him one day not coming back to you. Just ceasing to exist one day and leaving you alone again. How would you survive without him? Without his love? Without loving him in return? 

Your hand comes up to cover your mouth as you will yourself to take steadying breaths, not realizing how much you’ve started shaking. You look at the clock. It’s almost  8:30pm. He’s been gone for at least eight or nine hours now. 

That’s it, you’re calling the embassy. Javi had told you not to unless it’s an emergency, but you would consider this such. You storm into the living room and dial with shaky hands, trying to keep down your anxiety. You lift the receiver and bite your nails as you listen to it ring. And ring. And ring. You curse and try again, only for the phone to go unanswered again. 

You groan in frustration and slam the receiver back, hot tears springing to your eyes as the panic within you starts to rise. You’ll just have to go down there. You know Javi wouldn’t want you to do that, but what the hell else are you supposed to do? You can’t take the risk of not doing anything if it turns out he’s missing—or worse. 

You hurry back to the bedroom and tug a coat from the closet, throwing it on and heading to the hall to shove your shoes on, remembering that you haven’t yet explored the city. Hopefully you’ll be able to find your way based on memory. 

Just as you’re about to reach for the doorknob, it turns. Your stomach churns and you feel the urge to throw up again as your worry somehow both increases and dulls for different reasons. You step back as the door opens to reveal Javi, a bit tired looking but uninjured. 

You don’t give him a single second before you thrust yourself into his arms, babbling into his chest and trying to stop your tears that suddenly stream down your cheeks. You hadn’t realized how worked up you had gotten. His arms wrap around you and he takes a few steps to lead you back through the doorway and closes the door behind you. 

“Woah, sweetheart, slow down for me,” he tries to sooth you though his own voice is a bit frantic. “Tell me what’s going on, honey.” 

You back away from him just enough to get some semblance of your thoughts back in order. He looks extremely worried, his hands moving to lift your arms one at a time and then your chin, assessing you for any injuries. 

“I d-didn’t know where you were,” you start, watching him carefully. “I woke up and you were gone even though it’s the weekend and I waited all day because I thought you would be here and you didn’t come back so I called your work because I thought you were hurt or—” 

You’re lucky you run out of breath because your choked sob would have stopped you otherwise. You cover your eyes and take a deep but ragged breath. Javi’s hands quickly come to your wrists, trying to gently tug them away. When your hands are back down with his, you see him kneeling before you, his own eyes laced with worry. 

“Honey, I’m so sorry. I got called in while you were still asleep and I didn’t realize how long I’d be there for. I—” 

He stops as he takes in your entire outfit for apparently the first time since he got here. His brows furrow and you sniffle. His gaze comes back up to you after, his eyes cold now. It makes you rear back a bit, putting a few more inches between the two of you. He stands and watches as your expression turns to one of confusion. 

“Javi? Wha–” 

“Where the hell were you going?” He bites it out quick, his tone more demanding than you’ve heard before. Your face scrunches up slightly, a bit of anger ebbing into your previous anxiety. That’s what he wants to talk about? Your mood changes so quick it almost gives you whiplash, all other emotions siphoning into anger and agitation. He doesn’t get to disappear all day and then come home and question you.

“I was coming to find you,” you tell him, stepping toward him as if to dare him to use that tone again, though your tone was just as harsh. A muscle ticks in his jaw. 

“Why the hell would you do that?” 

You gape at him. Is he being serious? 

“I was worried sick! You really think I’m supposed to just wait around while you could have been dead in an alley somewh—” 

“Yes, that’s exactly what you’re supposed to do,” he counters with a steely voice. 

You don’t even know what to say to that.

“You were gone all day, are you really going to fucking grill me right now? You didn’t even leave me a note and the embassy didn’t pick up. How am I supposed to know you were actually at work?” You know that your anger is coming out of seemingly nowhere, but after stewing in your anxiety all day, it’s not hard to provoke you. You also know that last accusation was a low blow, and you regret it as soon as it’s out of your mouth.

“You know you shouldn’t be going out without me,” he bites, luckily choosing to ignore that last quip. You can feel his own temper rising, and it does nothing but increase your own. He’s not winning this, not after his stunt today. 

“I can go out if I want to go out,” you spit, crossing your arms. 

He lets out a warning chuckle, shaking his head. “ Not here you can’t, you fucking know that.” 

“Yes I damn well can! You don’t own me, I’m not just going to stay stuck in the apartment all day and night every day of the year!”

You can feel the tension rising between the two of you, but you don’t back down. There’s fury simmering deep, and you’re not about to agree to playing rapunzel for much longer. 

“Will you just fucking drop it? It’s for your own good!”

It’s making you sick, how quickly this is turning into something bigger, but you can’t stop even though your brain is screaming to let it go. 

“No, I won’t ‘just fucking drop it’, Javi! I’m not some dog you can just keep at home while you go out and do whatever!” 

He takes a step toward you, warning clear in the hardness of his eyes and the clench of his jaw. 

“I don’t understand why you’re making this such an issue, I’m trying to keep you safe,” he growls. “Do you not get that it’s dangerous here? You could be kidnapped, killed, raped.” 

“Well then maybe you shouldn’t have brought us here!” you cry, taking a step towards him as well. “I’m sick of not having any freedom!” It’s true; you’ve missed being able to go out, but you haven’t brought it up until now. You’d assumed it would change within the next few weeks, but it doesn’t sound now like that would have been super likely. 

“Oh is that what it is? You’re a slave now?” 

You rub your eyes and groan exasperatedly, getting more and more frustrated. Every bit of annoyance you’ve ignored from the last couple of months is starting to stir together in your head. 

“That’s not what I fucking said! I’m just tired of not being able to do what I want.” 

You realize right after you say it how childish that sounds, but you stand up straighter and look hard into his eyes as you ignore the impulse to wince.  

Javi lifts his arms and looks around pointedly. 

“You have plenty of shit to do here! I bring you whatever you want, but no, it’s not good enough is it?” 

You’ve never heard him speak this way; not to you or anyone else. It immediately brings tears to your eyes. You again feel like you’re acting like a child, and it frustrates you beyond comprehension. Does he really feel like you’re that much of an annoyance? 

“God damn it, Javi, stop putting words in my mouth!” You get closer to him, putting an accusing finger on his chest as you look into his eyes to try to get your point across. “I have nothing here right now, I feel fucking lonely,” you choke back a sob at the admission. “Most of my shit was left in Texas and now you’re not even around anymore to keep me company. I can’t call my sister and I don’t have any friends. I’m tired of being so alone.” 

Javi bites his cheek, nodding at you. “Well then maybe you shouldn’t have fucking come with me.” 

The ache in your chest spreads, pieces of you cracking with each word that comes from his mouth . You don’t want to believe it’s real. This is Javi. Your Javi. Why are you fighting? What’s happening? You want it to end, but your mouth moves too quickly for you to stop it. You’re too heated to have any kind of effect on the retorts slipping so easily off your tongue. He’s making it sound like he can care less if you were with him or not. Like he doesn’t need you like you need him. It hurts. 

But even so, you still take the bait. “Yeah, maybe I shouldn’t have.” The words hurt coming out, but you don’t take them back.

He puts his hands on his hips and backs away, laughing exasperatedly at you. “You’re acting like a spoiled fucking brat. Everything I’ve done is to make you happy, and it’s still not enough.” He looks down at you with what could be called disdain, and you suddenly want to break down as a shameful feeling embeds itself somewhere deep inside of you. He looks angry, more angry than you’ve ever seen him before. “You’re acting like you’re stuck with me, when I’m the one who married you to get you out of your damn house for being a slut!” 

Your eyes widen and your body trembles as the blood drains from your face. What did he just say? It suddenly feels like you’re floating, everything around you disappearing until it’s only you and Javi left.

“W-what?” your voice is weak as you struggle to even get the word out through your gasps for breath. It feels like your heart is crumbling, a sudden ringing in your ears being the only distraction from it. Tears fall from your eyes, blurring your vision even as you try to blink them away. You don’t understand. Javi would never say something like that to you. 

He looks for a moment like he’s going to apologize, scoop you up in his arms and beg you to forgive him. You can see it in the way regret flashes across his face, softening his gaze and making his lips part like he just realized what he said. But then he steels himself, stands up straight, and crosses his arms. 

“You heard me. It’s your own damn fault.” 

You watch him, your body now tensing with a pain beyond physical. You want to fucking scream at all of the emotions tearing you apart from the inside. You’re on the brink of a panic attack, your head going light as you try to understand what’s really happening. You almost startle when you hear a voice, only to realize it belongs to you. 

“N-no, I-” It’s not your fault, it can’t be. You look down to the floor, mouth gaping as you try to find something to say. When you look back up, all remorse is gone from Javi’s expression. It flips something within you, and before you can stop it, you're rushing to him, tears of pain and frustration turning to those of unabashed anger. 

“Fuck you! I fucking hate you!” You practically scream the words as your fists pound on his chest. 

He grabs onto you, yelling something that sounds like “stop”, but you can’t hear properly through the fog that’s taken over your brain. All you can focus on is deflecting these emotions that have welled up inside you, the ache in your chest. He shoves you, and you falter but keep going. You want to crawl somewhere and hide for a long fucking time. 

And you know as soon as it happens, that you messed up. A sting radiates across your cheek, and your vision blurs for a reason other than tears. All the air leaves your lungs and your legs turn to jelly as you descend to the floor. 

You almost don’t understand how you got there until you look up and see Javi standing above you, heaving with his hand still raised. He’s positively fuming, watching you with a fiery rage.

Regret takes over you immediately. You did do this. You made him hit you. He would never do that if he didn’t have to. You were hurting him and… Your cheek begins to pound and you bring a hand up to feel it, only to flinch away when your fingers make contact with the sensitive flesh.

Javi watches you for another second, and then turns his back, making you spring into action even though you’re still in a terrible daze. The scared leap of your heart is enough to get you up. 

“No, no, no, I’m sorry, wait, please–” 

You’re still crying and sniffling as you crawl part way and then stumble to your feet to catch him before he goes. He already has one hand on the doorknob, keys in hand when you reach him and he stops. 

“Javi, please, I didn’t mean it, I—please don’t leave, I’m sorry!” You’re in hysterics as you grab onto him, waiting for him to wrap his arms around you and forgive you for being so immature. But he just stands there, letting you sob into the same chest you’d been hitting seconds earlier. 

You’re shaking violently as your body wracks with your tears, feeling nauseous from the whole situation you just created. You don’t know how long you stand there before he finally reciprocates your affection and pulls you closer. He cups the back of your head to him and gently rubs your back, shushing you quietly. 

“Shh, I know baby,” he coos, his voice a stark opposite from the one that spat those hurtful words just minutes earlier. “It’s okay. I forgive you.” 

Your relief is immediate, your sobbing settling as you can finally get a calming breath back in. 

He forgives you. It’s okay. He forgives you.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper anyway, the words echoing in your empty head as your mouth moves of its own accord.

“I know, sweetheart,” he whispers back, ducking his head down to plant a kiss on yours. “It’s okay. I know you didn’t mean it.”

You nod, more for yourself than for him. It’s only now that you can feel the exhaustion seeping in, the fighting and crying having taken a lot out of you. 

“Can we go to bed, please?” You ask in a voice that’s barely audible. Everything feels fake right now, it’s a strange sensation, almost as if you’re in a dream. It all feels so overwhelming. Not just the emotions, but the lighting and the bright colors around you. The feeling of Javi’s shirt against your cheek as you cling to him. 

Javi says nothing but carefully scoops you up to carry you to the bedroom. When he sets you back down, you close your eyes and let him undress you until you’re left in your panties, and then he helps you lay down. 

You get comfortable, making sure not to lay on your numb and throbbing cheek. He crawls in a moment after you, clad in his boxers. He turns the bedside lamp off and then pulls you to him, letting you cuddle up into his side and place your head on his chest. 

You lay there with him for a moment, your eyes stinging even in the dark as you try not to think about how different the outcome could have been. You’re so lucky that he didn’t leave you all alone after what you did. He stayed and comforted you, even after you’d taken him for granted and treated him so terribly. 

“I’m sorry,” you can’t help but say again, your voice hoarse and small. “I love you.” There are still tears crawling down your face, but they feel thin, like you’re about to be out. 

Javi holds you tighter and whispers back to you in the dark. “I know, baby. I love you too.” 

He loves you. It’s okay. 

There’s another few minutes of silence where you contemplate a risky question. You’re sure Javi probably thinks you’re asleep by now, but your mind doesn’t rest that easily. You just need to make sure he’s not at all mad at you anymore; you know you won’t be able to fall asleep without knowing, that you’ll fall back into a panic if you don’t make sure things are as perfect as they can be. You need things to be normal.

You weigh the possibilities of his reaction, and then decide to take a chance by asking anyway. You make sure to use your sweetest voice as you do so, just in case. 

“Javi?” 

There’s a beat of silence. 

“Yes, sweetheart?” 

You swallow before biting the bullet. 

“Will you still take me on our date? Since you’ll be with me…” 

You hear him mutter a quiet curse, but you can tell it’s not out of anger for you, but the realization that he had forgotten all about it. 

“Yes, carino. I’ll take you on your date.” His voice is warmer now, relaxed.

You smile in the dark, the last of your panic simmering into nothing with the reassurance that you’re forgiven. 

“Go to sleep now, I promise I’ll be here in the morning.” One of his hands comes up to pet your hair, soothing you in a way that you need right now. 

He loves you. It’s okay. You’re okay.

You nod lightly and let your slightly-puffy eyelids flutter shut, allowing yourself to relax as you whisper another ‘I love you’. You fall asleep within the next few minutes, comforted by the rise and fall of his chest, the weight of his gentle hand, and the knowledge that you didn’t ruin it all. 

*****

I would love some feedback on this one to see where we're at! I love you all and I hope this chapter met your expectations 💕

As usual, the taglist is always open! lmk if you would like to be put on or taken off! <3

Series taglist: @corazondebeskar @yorksgirl @nerdieforpedro @axshadows @melaninmommy @survivingandenduring @kewwrites @oldenoughtoknowbettersstuff  @callachloe @missladym1981 @sofiparallel @koshkaj-blog @sheepdogchick3 @movievillainess721 @jessie8605 @casa-boiardi @justlulu @iamsherlocked-1998 @hjzghi-blog

[thessalian]

Thess vs The Colleagues, Again, Some More

Yeah, so, apparently it's not New Girl who's making my life hell. Or. Well. It's not only New Girl making my life hell.

I really, really wanted to call out for at least part of today. I mean, this migraine is not fucking shifting. Being stuck with a laptop screen because management still hasn't processed my request for an USB monitor for the fucking machine despite my having put in a request in January? That doesn't help. But I figured, we're actually not doing too badly, the typing queue is finally back down to the double-digits, I can take it slow, it'll be fine.

First thing I noticed was that, yet again, I got stuck with any and all Annoyances. I swear if I have to look at one more placenta triage form or anything to do with prostate biopsies, I will scream. Placenta's just ... involved; prostate involves at least six samples, sometimes more, from the organ in question, so that gets long-winded. And everyone knows which doctors do those things, so they can really easily avoid those things. There's a reason why I set up little macros where I can just type in a code and get a fair few of those bits filled out for me - same as for mastectomies, kidneys, and everything else they all decide to leave for me to deal with - I don't like them either but I get stuck with them so often that I had to find ways to make it less painful for me.

(Yes, I offered those same macros to my colleagues. No, they never took me up on it. I mean, if they did, they might be obliged to do the fucking Annoyances once in awhile for any reason other than my absence.)

So I get through the Annoyances, trying to take it slow, and managed relatively well despite the occasional stabbing pain in my head ... until about 5pm, when I noticed that the main typing queue just grew by a fair bit and went to check for any urgent cases. There were two. There were also nine reports dated yesterday midday. I was already typing on midday today at that point, which means someone sat on the damn things all freakin' day and then dumped them back in the queue at the end of the day. None of them were over a minute long, either! They were just ... slightly annoying people to type for! So I had to grab all those and pick up the pace to get all of that plus the two urgents and the stuff that was in my queue done in about a half-hour. So much for "taking it easy".

Now, why does this prove to me that it isn't New Girl - or at least not only New Girl - doing this to me? Well, New Girl had the day off today. So I'm trying to figure out exactly who the fuck is doing this to me. I mean, all of them are at least partly responsible, but the "Let's sit on older work all day and then dump it back into the queue" doesn't feel like Goblin, mostly because she works until 5:30pm so she'd have had plenty of time. This means it's probably Temp doing it.

There's another frustration that I can't pin on my colleagues. See, how it works is that there are request forms scanned onto our systems that contain a bunch of details we need to type into the reports - specimen details, clinical details, stuff like that. Well, somebody's been egregiously bad at scanning that shit in lately. Half of the stuff I've had to type the last week had no scanned request forms on the system. Which is bad when things are illegible, or newbie doctors don't know where to look for the clinical details and so don't dictate them, but worse when it's stuff like triage forms where the clinical details are long and fiddly.

So now I have a weekend. I also have a lot of head-stabby. I should have called out.

[sdyuteiaok]

All right, MTGinktober 9 in the books. But there's no time to reflect too deeply--so hopefully we can stave off the post-Inktober depression--cuz it's time to get back on the virtual phone-banking campaign trail. I signed up for two shifts today since apparently I didn't have anything scheduled until the weekend--I was surprised there weren't events all day, but I realized it's Friday, so even if there were, it doesn't make sense to bug voters during the day--those almost always don't go well the few times I've done it, and you risk annoying voters more than anything, and I'm sure the places we're calling are already inundated with contacts. So the marathon starts a little later in the day, but I've also got an additional meeting for my longest-standing group, since I volunteered to do some additional work for them. As for Inktober, as always, we close with a whimper. We only had a couple mega hits, but a lot of sorta regular responses, and only a couple duds, too, but even those have picked up over time. You have to allow for people to discover these things, so sometimes it can take a tiny bit before a piece finds its legs. Anyway, I always sorta take at least a quick accounting of how things went, even if I don't have time to get into my feelings on everything, and I'm happy to report that this was physically maybe the best Inktober in a while--no real pain past the first week while my body adjusted to the pace and intensity, and even my fingers stopped losing their numbness, so my hand really stepped up. No back or shoulder pain at any time, either. The only difficulty was the sheer exhaustion towards the end, but even then, we were able to power through. I used chocolate milk this time, no energy drinks of any kind for once, and that and adrenaline did the trick just fine. And then this was also the neatest MTGinkotber: no serious smears, except for the one on Camp, and no errors or goofs (like two left hands, forgotten costume part), aside from some eraser gunk getting in one of my scans, and then that one time I accidentally closed CSP without saving my organized references. So pretty successful all around, and while I've enjoyed the 'Gram feature of being able to pair your art with music, this has affirmed that it's time to wind down that service. I used to get some 30x the engagement, and now I can barely scrape together one or two likes per image, and the insights say maybe 10 people are seeing these things, so it's clear the platform isn't putting my stuff out there, so I'm not going to fight it. I wonder if it has something to do with my settings, but who knows. It's supremely frustrating, as Instagram used to be quite populous, but it's just hollowed out, and I certainly hear that from other artists, too, including their viewership tanking. I suppose I could try some video-based stuff, but I have zero time to prepare that kind of thing most days during Inktober. I tried mocking up a little 3-second process video, but it's just annoying and probably not even too compelling. If I had an assistant, or more time, mize, but it's just me doing everything, and I'd rather spend that on the actual art than all this showboating. Anyway, good year personally, but I believe next year will be the finale, as I can't justify continuing to do this, I hate to admit. Anyway, let's get back to campaigning already--I have a lot of news to catch up on, too, as again, I drop just about everything for Inktober, so for a month I'm kind of a low-info voter.

[the-firebird69]

There are several things happening in Charlotte county and they're pretty big and there are going and they have pretty deep meaning they are trying to form up from behind using the people that moved in and it's like a hundred and twenty thousand people they had a little fight and didn't want to do it so they're not forming up. So it was a waste of time and energy they said and a bunch of them got hauled away but 100,000 and it's going on now that they are taking a severe beating out there for Max and others for their insurrection it's illegal and they're actually City and squad and they'll probably be marked up in an hour or two and the beat goes on and fill with others .

-a couple more things happening and one of them is getting a little bit of attention but usually it's in response to postings and it wears off and people do know it is true and in a couple days it won't be much at all. And we are experiencing a couple other things happening here people are very snooty to him and over it and it's like sit there talking like they're having a conversation with him he's like I'm not really talking to you I don't know why you do there and it's that gambling and it's like it's not really this Care Bear show the stuff is very intense and it's very deadly there's a war going on right over there and it sort of kind of starting to get it a little not that much

-it did perform the layoffs of public and private workers who work on the weekend and significant numbers probably about $300, 000 from several different companies no it's millions and they're from decent companies in decent areas some of them are quite famous now so we did deleted a few no didn't say any and we don't really intend to no you could one of them is Coca-Cola and 50% of their weekend workers are fired that were morlock and Macklemore. Another company is stride rite they laid off about 70% of the warlock workers that's a huge number just tried right makes several brands but mostly stride rite and I can't compete with the Chinese anymore on top of what's going on it's also oxygen levels are higher the fisherman village than they are in the neighborhood and we'll start to notice it's kind of crappy down there too so we're trying to fill in the blanks okay we're going to have to do the job there's a few other things too. We are in control here no but we're working on it and we are moving in for Monday is work and we're completing surveys and we're completing scanning and locating and we are doing minor brush removal along the perimeters and at stake locations and they say they're watching thoroughly not really but they do go by and talk to Horn Annoying there's some other things happening, plenty of companies lay people off Tropicana Sunkist Coca-Cola as we said Pepsi mountain dew is part of one of them and a slew of drink companies including the bottle water company coming and they're finally to poison it and More in stores and stores are now firing people Walmart Target even bells wherever they have water grocery stores are finding tons of these people because they're just very evil it's going on and on it's a huge list of people there's a giant number there's a lot of people that are getting fired.

-we do have 450 projects that are go ahead 100 are ongoing in Florida on top of that 300 heavy highway bridge government buildings and cillary structures. And we have started 100 but we're going to start 350 Monday and we're going to put a blade in the ground and we're going to start clearing and we clear very fast the machine that pulls the whole tree out and then we take to the mulcher yeah with another machine and it goes on all day and we drag a few I would throw them into the mulcher and I'm also is huge it's not finally melts see the wood chip for him and in order to put into fertilizer you finally mulch it but they're going to buy the chips from us and we're going to sell them to them and they're going to make a mulch The mulch is going to be incorporated into the Monk and it makes wonderful fertilizer it's going on fairly soon Monday tons of months will be pulled out believe it or not we need to pull out more and it grows very fast if they planted around immokalee Monday morning around 11:00 a.m. they would have probably enough for a 10 by 10 mile area unless a lot and to huge amount of area. Besides that effects which is positive in the long run cuz they're getting the muck out of there that actually 3/4 of lake Okeechobee is clear about 5 miles of each River and it's good it will continue because of the results they'll have a cash crop tomorrow or Monday the first one in 3 weeks is full size so go figure.

-other than that we have a huge number of people out here who are kind of milling around trying to look half decent. Fairly lame and we called lame and weak and tired so we're going on to help her son nobody has gumption here

-this morning going on shortly but this is a huge day for a couple reasons this huge invasion we've been hearing about they've been trying to build up it's not really happening they gotten a lot of big trouble for saying and it started attacking the empire found out that they were attacking people who are talking about and the empire it's about $30, 000 trillion to base well $3,000. A base and yeah a few hundred trillion goes pretty quickly with these numbers and they have nothing 1.5 million so 3,000 trillion times 20 is 60,000 during the day and in 10 days they're halfway to a million so you know as a significant numbers

-and they're also attacking the factories but there it's it's really around 10 to 20,000 octillion each and they're 20 of those that's a huge number he says that would be half a million trillion and we think that's too high which is about 2000 it's still very huge and after a short time it could be a huge problem

-there's a short amount of time here to explain things and they're very rude to him constantly and we don't want to hear it they're going on and on about things and I'll tell you what a lot of them are doing ugly stuff Non-Stop and some sunny so I'm sitting in teams and the perimeter is going to be fought over for quite a while heavily and by higher ups more shortly

Thor Freya

[jaeyunverse]

the perks of having a hot best friend (teaser)

PAIRING(S) | lee jeno x fem!reader

GENRE(S) | fluff, mild angst, crack, best friends to lovers, mutual pining + more to be added as i write!

EST. WORD COUNT | around 10k  

WARNING(S) | profanity, jeno is cocky and annoying but mc loves him regardless, he’s also shirtless in a scene so that makes mc love him more, this is hella self-indulgent + all warnings to be included in full fic!!!!  

SUMMARY | having a hot best friend is nice until you start getting butterflies in your stomach every single time you look at them.

TAGLIST | @notbeforelong​ @w3bqrl​ @rikiflowers​ @mochisnlix​ @allorysayshi​ @hiqhkey​ @angel-hyuckie​ @markleeisdabestdrug​ @j4kesworld​ @timetoten​ @vantxx95​ @sweetjaemss​ @bigtittietoji​ @ahnneyong​ @iwonzzi​ @sunshine-skz​ @baekhyunstruly​ @ja4hyvn​ @centheodd​ @ily-cuz-i​ @jeongyeon27​ @kdyism​ @keemburley @iioyous @n0hyuck @luvenshiti @pckeia @donutswithjaminthemiddle @mosviqu @deobitiful @jeonnyread @h1acynth @pjofics @venusprada @matchahyuck @tbzussy @babyksworld @kae-t-eee @bockhyun @rbf-aceu @ablackbtsstan @tamakofever @naemakkuri @sadgirlroo @fariylixie0915 @pradagukkie @babyjenono @hibernatinghamster @jaemnationnn @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @bustedneos send an ask or comment to be added!

AUTHOR’S NOTE | hi!!!! i am deep in my jeno brainrot as always :”) i hope this fic (whenever it comes out) helps you realise you are in love with jeno because you ARE no one can escape that man and you’re lying to yourself if you think he doesn’t affect you!!!! LOL just kidding (i’m being completely srs). also a few paragraphs have been cut from this extract so some stuff might not make sense right away and i probably should have mentioned this at the start of the note but JENO

posted!

02) hugs always make you feel warm and safe thanks to all the beef underneath

“Why do we need such a big bottle of Sprite?”

“Party at my place this weekend. There’s a discount so I’m buying in advance.”

You frowned. “Shouldn’t you be stocking up on booze?”

“The guys said I have an alcohol addiction,” Jeno said, getting in line at the billing counter. “Which is, like, totally untrue but you know I never back down from a challenge. I’m going to prove them wrong by staying sober for two weeks.”

“Sure,” you snorted. “You just find lame loopholes or cheat when no one’s looking.”

A sly grin took form on Jeno’s lips. He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively and drawled, “I know what you do when no one’s looking.”

“Really?” You feigned a gasp. “You know I sneak over to your house and steal your food when you’re not there?”

His smile dropped immediately. “Wait, what? That’s you? Not Hyuck?”

“The food thief is me but the one stealing your sheet masks is Hyuck,” you admitted.

“He steals my masks?! The ones I buy are expensive as fuck!” Jeno exclaimed, betrayal seeping into his features. His hands fell to his side and his eyes turned distant. “I can’t believe he’s been gaslighting me into thinking I do an extra round of skin care when I’m drunk.”

You giggled and pushed the shopping cart forward once the person in front of you was done. Placing the contents one by one on the billing counter for the cashier to scan, you revealed, “Hyuck saw me raiding your pantry when you were at the gym. He used that as leverage against me for weeks before I saw him stealing your sheet masks and was able to finally strike a deal—he turns a blind eye to my robberies and I turn a blind eye to his.”

“Why’d you team up with him?” Jeno pouted. “I thought we were best friends.”

You laughed incredulously. “Seriously? That’s what you’re focusing on? Not the part where Hyuck and I used your stuff without asking?”

“Well, yeah, I’m pissed you used my shit. But I guess I’m just a little more bothered that you guys teamed up,” Jeno said and shrugged, fetching his wallet from the back pocket of his jeans. “Because, you know, it has always been our thing.”

You raised an eyebrow, slightly amused by how he was beating around the bush. “Are you saying you wanna team up with me to get back at Hyuck?”

Jeno grinned. “I’m gonna screw over that motherfucker so bad. You get off the hook, though, because you’re cute and I need your help.”

“You’re impossible.” You huffed and shook your head. Taking the bag of groceries, you said to him, “Text me my share and I’ll Venmo the money to you.”

“You could buy me an ice-cream instead.”

“No,” you denied immediately. “We’re not wasting time on ice-cream. Massage and then straight home so I can pick up my study material and we can leave for the library.”

Thankfully, Jeno didn’t protest. He drove you to your apartment complex and waited for you while you packed your bag. Then, the two of you were off to the massage place.

An hour later, you were done and forced to admit that the massage had indeed helped you. It felt like all the stress had left your body. Thinking about the final didn’t make you want to cry anymore and things were actually looking up now that you were rested.

You were able to retain the knowledge better and it was easier to understand the concepts. Jeno quizzed you and provided you with an endless supply of coffee throughout the night.

Right before lunch the next day, however, the panic resurfaced as you were revising your syllabus for the last time before your final at 3. You couldn’t seem to remember anything you had studied the previous night.

You could feel another breakdown coming, but before you could hyperventilate, Jeno had scooped you up in his arms.

You hadn’t even realised when he’d come back from picking up your food. One minute, you were trying to control your breath and the next, your face was buried in his hard chest.

You held onto his shirt as his hands rubbed soothing circles on your back and he rocked you from side to side.

“Shh, don’t cry,” he mumbled and kissed the top of your head. “You’re gonna ace the final like you always do. You were able to answer all the quiz questions so remember that you are prepared. The pre-exam anxiety is just clouding your thoughts. Everything’s gonna come back to you when you sit down to write, alright?”

Nodding, you clenched your eyes shut and bit down on your lip to keep a sob from escaping. Jeno’s presence kept acting like a tether for you. It always had.

Maybe he was right about the final. Maybe he wasn’t. But at that moment, engulfed in his warm, safe embrace, it felt like everything was going to be okay.

[aemonds-little-belle]

Feelings Sold Separately

CHAPTER FOUR (THE CHAT)

(An Edit of A Previous Chapter Four)

Modern!Aemond Targaryen x Reader

TAGS - (REPOSTED FROM AO3)

Alternate Universe - Sugar DaddySugar BabySugar Baby AUAUokay this is a whole ass story that's just one long ass brain fartliterally i am just coming up with this on the spotlow key really love it thoughSugar Baby/Sugar Daddyobviouslytalks of class issuesaemonds been hurt in the pasti think there will be some sexy stuff eventuallywait fuck i didn't mention this is a modern!aumodern!AUAlternate Universe - Modern Setting<3Aemond "One-Eye" Targaryen is Bad at Feelingsstop that was recommended but so accurateI don't know how to do tagsI'm SorryI promise it's goodAnd no one diesand it's just so classically a sugar baby/ sugar daddy au it hurtsreader works at a cafe ... obviouslythis will follow a similar storyline to the show just modern and also not at allFamily Issueswait probably dom/sub vibes tooDom/subLight Dom/subclearly i don't know where this is going yetmy readers are always written fat because i am fatso keep that in mind

+ + + + + +

The waffles were placed on the table, syrups, butters, and whip creams of different flavors, scattered around the main dishe’s plates, empty coffee mugs waiting to be picked up. “What do you do in your free time?” Y/n asked, taking a bite of her own waffles, her cheeks puffing out as she chewed.

“I read sometimes.” Aemond answered, putting his fork down, wiping his mouth with a napkin, letting out a low hum before continuing. “I hope to fill my free time with you though.” Y/n froze, her mouth still full, as she felt her body heat up, her heart beat quicker, sure she knew he wanted to spend his time with her, that was the whole point, but him saying the words made it all more real, all more personal. “Speaking of, I have a business event coming up on Wednesday, I will need you to be my plus one.”

“I work Wednesday.” Y/n pouted back.

“I know.” Aemond crossed his arms, his plate empty, him now waiting for Y/n to be finished. “The event doesn’t start until 8pm, I’ll pick you up from work and you can get ready with me.”

“Oh, okay.”

“We’ll have to go shopping this weekend, find you a dress, and me a suit to match.” He pulled out his phone, his calendar opened, his eye scanning to make sure he was still free. “Are you free tomorrow?”

“I have a few errands to run, but yes, I’m free.”

“We can do those together then, does nine am sound good?” He began typing the plans into the calendar.

‘So much for sleeping in.’ “Sure, but my errands are boring, Aemond.” She smiled. “I don’t want to drag you along grocery shopping.”

“I enjoy the mundane things, Y/n, I would much rather take you grocery shopping than to a fancy party.” He leaned forward, his hands clasped and sat on the table. “I want to spend real time with you, doing boring things.” His tone left no room for argument, no space to talk back, though Y/n wasn’t sure she even wanted to. “So I will pick you up at nine, and we will go grocery shopping.”

“Okay.”

The table fell silent for a few seconds, Aemond still on his phone, before Y/n spoke, filling the silence with much needed noise once again. “Were you the one that posted the ads?”

“Yes, with the help of my sister.” Aemond answered, finally turning his phone off and placing it on the table face down, fully in the conversation.

“Why did you post them in Flea Bottom? Why not ask people in your own world?” She asked, taking a sip of water, resting her head on her hands, the exhaustion of the day finally hitting.

“Because I’ve done that before, and I am sick of not being needed, never actually helping anyone.” He admitted, his grasp on his own hands tightening, his jaw clenched. “Their fathers pay their rent, grandparents indulge them in their shopping habits.” His tone hardened. “I was just a powerful elbow to hold, a prize to be won.” Even though his words felt heavy, his eye seemed to soften. “Maybe I’m just selfish, but I want someone to need me, really need me.”

“I don’t think that’s selfish.” Y/n smiled, her eyes meeting his. “I think it’s sweet.”

Aemond cleared his throat, conflicted with the pure vulnerability of the moment. “Why did you answer the ad?” He questioned, deciding to fight the urge to run, instead leaning into the intimate conversation. “The real reason.” He added, recalling her half assed excuse the first time around.

Y/n’s face dropped slightly. “Um.” She whispered, her spine straightening, hands falling to her lap to fiddle with one another as anxiety washed over her. “I guess, I don’t know, I could use the money.” Her eyebrows furrowed, as if she was debating something within the walls of her own head.

“Hmm.” Aemond hummed, the gesture telling, as if he knew she was lying, withholding the truth to an extent. “I don’t believe you.” He admitted, a playful yet malicious smirk making its way onto his face.

“I, I guess I’ve just spent my whole life being told that I’m unwanted, so having someone enjoy my company so much they're willing to pay for it was, exciting. I don’t know, it sounds stupid now that I’ve said it aloud.” She gave a small chuckle, trying to dismiss the emotion behind the answer, taking another bite of her waffle to subconsciously silence herself.

“I don’t think it’s stupid.” He practically stole her previous words, but before he could add on his own, Daris came back to the table, picking up the coffee mugs, offering a warm smile to each of his patrons.

“Would either of you like desert?” He asked, Y/n’s eyes lighting up like a childs before slowly dimming again.

“Y/n?” Aemond asked, turning his attention to her, her cheeks warming under the sudden attention of two people.

“No thank you.” She smiled politely, placing her fork and knife on the plate, signaling she was done. “I should really get home.” She turned to Aemond, checking his watch before nodding his head.

“The check please, Daris.” Aemond cleared his throat, his fork and knife now placed on his plate too as Daris walked away.

“Thank you for dinner Aemond, I really enjoyed it.” Y/n genuinely smiled, grabbing her coat, placing her things into the pockets before putting it back on.

“You’re welcome, Little Dragon.” Aemond hummed, checking his phone once again before putting his coat on too. “Just wait here while I pay the bill.” He said, walking away, his suit jacket making his shoulders look broader than before.

Y/n stood up, stacking the dishes nicer, making the table as neat as possible before beginning to take a few steps, noticing a dark blob on Aemond’s seat. Y/n picked it up, Aemond’s trench coat much heavier than it looked, the heavy duty wool warm and sturdy. She began folding it, smiling when she looked closer at the buttons, High Valyrian words engraved into each button.

“Y/n?” Aemond called out, a few steps ahead of her, just in front of the doors. “Do you have everything?” He asked, willing his amused smile away, the sight of her smiling at his coat buttons, the thing he loved so dearly in her hands, made his heart beat faster, and he wasn’t sure he was ready to admit that.

“Mhm!” She smiled, walking towards him and handing him his coat. “What do the buttons say?” She asked, looking at him with wonder in her eyes, his looking back at her with confusion, almost anger. “Sorry, you don’t have to tell me, I shouldn’t have asked.” ‘Fuck’.

“I’ll tell you someday.” He hummed, looking at the buttons himself, Y/n just nodding back with a sympathetic smile. “Ready to go home?”

“Yes, and again thank you for dinner!” Y/n stood still, unsure if she could, ‘should’, hug him, or if maybe a handshake was in order. “I’ll see you tomorrow then!” She called out, walking towards the door.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Aemond chuckled behind her, causing her to turn around.

“The bus station?” She asked, as if her answer was a question, around him she felt like everything she said was being graded, hoping her lack of confidence in the answer would lessen the blow if it was the wrong one.

“That’s not going to happen.” Aemond sent an unamused smile her way as he put his trench coat on, pulling his long locks from their trapped spot under it. “Do you even know where we are?” He questioned her.

‘Oh … No I do not.’ “No.” She admitted, though she knew how to take bus stops, she realized that she had no idea where the closest one was, or if it would even include Flea Bottom in it’s route.

“I enjoyed your little show there, little dragon.” He walked closer to her, his breath fanning over her face. “But you have someone to rely on now, and I have someone to spoil.” The last few words were whispered, like he couldn’t believe them himself. “So if you start walking to the car now, I’ll even let you pick the music.”

Y/n stood still and silent, Aemond shockingly close, his words heavy yet kind. “Right.” She whispered, looking up at his lilac eye, his pupil dilated slightly, his sly smile still growing. She turned around happily, trying to think of what music Aemond might enjoy, though she did realize this would be a fun opportunity to see how much pain, horrible songs she could play, he could take until he would cave, how far would he go for her. A smile lit up on her face, her almost skipping out the door as Aemond walked behind her. It was going to be a fun arrangement, they could both feel it.

[ethereal-writes]

Going Shopping (Ft. Beelzebub, Belphegor and GN!MC)

Warnings: Mild romantic implications

Length: 0.9k words

Genre: Fluff

Summary: The twins and MC go shopping in the human world.

A/N: Alright, here's the Christmas fic! One of them, anyways. This is the only one with a follow-up, part two will be going up as soon as possible! These two fics are my favorite, so I figured we'd get the best ones out first :D

-Ethereal (✿◡‿◡)

Story below, please don’t claim as your own!

Being in the Devildom, you weren’t exactly expecting a traditional holiday season. That being said, not everything needed to be different.

For example, you could still totally bake for everyone.

It wasn’t that surprising that Beel loved the desserts you’d make. Nearly every weekend, he would beg you to bake whatever it was he happened to be craving that week. He claimed your desserts helped tide him over during school days better than anything else.

His twin was no better. In fact, Belphie might have been worse. While Beel was the Avatar of Gluttony, Belphie didn’t care whether you found him annoying or not. He would hang off your arm— sometimes literally— until he got his way. And though he often blamed Beel for his cravings, you knew the youngest had a pretty big sweet tooth himself.

You usually made them Devildom desserts. It was what they were used to, plus human world ingredients were few and far between.

But this time, you were baking for yourself as much as them. You wanted a taste of home. And to do that, you had to go home. And by that, you meant a grocery store in the human world.

Getting Diavolo’s permission for inter-realm travel wasn’t that difficult. All you had to do was promise to bring back some ingredients for the castle, as well as bring a bodyguard. Or two.

Which is how you ended up in this situation.

“Yeah!” Belphie shouted from inside the cart. Beel was the one pushing him, sprinting down the aisle towards you. This was their third lap. 

“Guys!” You shouted. “Be careful, you’re gonna hit someone!”

They finally slowed beside you.

"We have one hour to get this done till the portal closes, and I'm not gonna be the one to tell Barbatos we need another hour because we were playing with the carts." You weren’t too mad though, watching them mess around was pretty amusing.

"Sorry," Beel apologized, looking genuinely sorry, unlike his twin.

"It's alright. Okay, we're in the baking aisle. From here, we need brown sugar, flour, baking powder, vanilla extract, white sugar and chocolate chips."

Belphie oriented himself in the shopping cart to look at one of the shelves.

"There's the baking powder and the chocolate chips." He pointed them out on the shelves, and you grabbed them and put them into the cart with him.

"I found the flour!" Beel announced, carrying two industrial sized bags.

"Wait, wait, I think that's too much,” you said.

“There’s no such thing as too much food!” Beel declared, tucking them underneath the basket part of the cart.

“Well, we’re going to need more of the other ingredients, then.” You paused a second, attempting to do the calculations mentally. One thing of baking powder was probably enough…but…

Giving up, you grabbed a few more bags of chocolate chips and threw them into the cart. Worst case scenario, you ended up with too many ingredients, and you could do more baking with them later. It’s not like any of this stuff expired for a while.

"Okay, now we just need the sugars." You scanned the shelves quickly, grabbing what you estimated would be more than enough. You then carefully placed the sugars in the cart next to Belphie.

"I'm getting kind of squished in here," he complained.

"It's made for the groceries, not for you," You teased him lightly, ruffling his hair. He pouted a little.

"Okay, so next we've got to get the eggs and milk, which will be in the fridge section, so-"

"I'm on it!" Beel began to push the cart again and turned off.

"I-ah, other way!" You called, running to catch up with them.

***

Finally, the three of you had gathered the baking supplies, as well as the items that Barbatos and Diavolo had requested. You’d also ended up getting something for each of the brothers.

You’d never gone grocery shopping for the House of Lamentation by yourself before, and you were suddenly very grateful for that. Even though you had only bought the ingredients to make cookies, you still had an overflowing cart.

This forced Belphie to walk, much to his dismay.

The portal to take you back to the Devildom was going to open in the back parking lot of the store in about fifteen minutes, so the three of you were sitting on some benches just inside the doors, since it was ridiculously cold outside.

Belphie was draped across your lap— Beel was probably going to have to carry him— and you were leaning into Beel’s side.

“I’m tired,” Belphie whined, nuzzling into your stomach.

“And I’m hungry,” Beel complained. “Can I eat some of the chocolate chips?”

You shook your head. “Sorry, we need those to make the cookies.”

Beel’s stomach growled, and he pouted.

Belphie sighed.

You sighed, too. Despite the fact that these people were probably tens of thousands of years older than you, sometimes it felt like you were dealing with children.

“Fine. When we get home, we’ll have a snack, then take a nap, okay?” Your offer was half-sarcastic, but if either of the twins noticed, they didn’t care.

Both of them nodded enthusiastically. Oh well, that didn’t seem like a terrible way to spend the rest of the afternoon, anyways.

Part 2! (Link will be up in a few minutes!) Update: When I finish running errands-

[reidgraygubler]

just my type (spencer reid/reader)

Title: just my type 

Request: kinda, not really

Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader

Category: Smut

Content Warning: SEXUAL CONTENT (daddy kink, loss of virginity (reader), praise, fingering, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, after sex cockwarming, groping, heavy petting, tipsy sex, innocence kink, hair pulling, crying during sex (but the VERY end)), dom!Spencer, sub!Reader, Professor!Reid, age gap, aftercare, swearing, drinking, making out in public places, incredibly brief mention of necrophilia, mentions of absent father, ooc!spencer, professor/student, brief mention of drinks being drugged (not actually happening)

Word Count: 8,194 

Summary: Reader sleeps with a man she met at the bar. The next day she finds out that man was her new professor, Spencer Reid...

A/N: this was writing for pom’s discord server fic swap! My partner doesn’t have tumblr, but their wattpad is babyleaf1! I took a few of her favorite tropes and prompts she likes and came up with this! It’s loosely based off the song campus by vampire weekend. Spencer and reader’s ages are undefined, but there is a gap between the two.  thank you all so much for the support! i really do appreciate it. check out my masterlist!

{***}{***}{***}

Going to the bar wasn’t exactly my scene. Sure, it was nice to kick back and have a drink after a long day. I’d rather be at home with a glass of wine and watching a movie. But when a friend I haven’t seen in a long time asks to go to the bar, I’m gonna go to the bar with her. 

My eyes scanned the crowded room, searching for my friend who was no doubt already drinking. The room was filled with drunk people. I didn’t expect so many people to be drinking on a Tuesday night… who am I to judge though? 

When I finally saw my friend, I rushed to her. She was sitting at the bar with a drink already in hand. I wondered how many drinks she had before I arrived.

The moment I appeared by her side, she let out an excited squeal before throwing her arms around my body.

“It’s so nice seeing you!” she squealed into my ears. I laughed as I carefully pushed her off my body, and tried to regain some personal space. “It’s been so long!” 

“Yeah, yeah. Been busy. School and stuff starts this week.” I nervously laughed as I sat down on the stool beside her. She leaned over the bar as she called for the bartender. 

“That’s right! School!” she exclaimed as she looked back at me. I looked away from the bartender and at my friend. “That’ll be fun!” she added, trying to sound excited, but epically failing. 

“I sure hope it’ll be fun…. But it’s hard to say. You know, college,” I chuckled and looked down at the counter. The bartender placed the two drinks on the counter, pushing them towards us. My eyes widened once I saw the brightness of the drink. The brightness of the liquid was unnatural. So of course I was going to drink it. What’s the worst that could happen?

A couple hours had passed and the conversations between us seemed to flow fluidly. I was thanking God that that was the case because I don’t think I could do awkward drinks. I like to think I was concentrating on her and her words pretty well.

And then he happened.

A man walked up to the bar and looked right at the bartender. He held up one finger as he sat down behind my friend. He had an exhausted look in his eyes, which were hidden behind shaggy brown hair. Suddenly my concentration was out the window and I couldn’t take my eyes off the man. My friend definitely noticed too, but thankfully she didn’t comment on it. 

Then he looked over at me, and I was met with honeyed hazel eyes. They were more intoxicating than my drink. A small smile grew on his lips when he realized he captured the attention from someone. 

I just assumed he would have gotten his drink and returned to wherever he was sitting. But I was so wrong. Maybe the bar counter was where he was sitting and he just got here...

“So… What’s your type?” my friend asked, looking over at me with a small smile on her lips. I struggled to look away from the attractive man sitting just behind her. It was a relief when his gaze dropped from mine when my friend asked the question. But a small smirk grew on his lips as he, and my friend, waited for my answer.

“I… I, uh,” I finally looked away from him and down at my drink. The two black stir straws leaned against the glass, and I realized that I should probably stop drinking soon. My face grew really hot, and I couldn’t tell if it was from the alcohol I had consumed, or the thought of telling my friend my type in men I’m interested in, or even worse… That the type of guy I’m interested in standing right behind her…

“C’mon, can’t be that bad… Unless you’re like… A necrophiliac,” she laughed as she leaned closer to my body. I moved away from her before looking back at the man behind her. He was looking back at me, an amused smile on his lips. “Well,” she asked, slipping closer to me. I locked eyes on the man before licking my lips lightly.

“Older…” I made sure to be loud enough that I knew he would hear. I watched as he choked on his drink before looking over at me. 

“Ooo! Girl,” my friend exclaimed as she moved closer to me, “How scandalous,” she whispered as she wrapped an arm around me, “How old are we talking?” she looked up at me. Her eyes were glossy, and I knew there was no winning this one. 

“Is this really a conversation we… we should be having?” I asked, my voice shaky as I spoke. She looked at me with wide eyes.

“We talkin’ old enough to be ya daddy… if ya know what I mean,” she mused as she began falling into my body. The man behind her looked over at me, his smile telling me he was clearly listening in to our conversation. And he obviously enjoyed what was happening in front of him. 

“Ye-No!” I cut myself off with a shout, “No! Not at all!” I continued, backing away from her body. I couldn’t tell if I was being serious or not, and something was telling me my friend and the man didn’t believe me either. “Wh-why are you suddenly…” I let my words trail off as my train of thought suddenly vanished.

“Because… You’re young, you’re single… And you’re… you know…” this time it was her words trailing off. I looked at her with wide eyes, my face getting hot again. “A virgin,” she said in a normal tone, even though I think she thought she was whispering. The man behind her choked on his drink again before slowly turning to face me and my friend.

“Will you shut up?” I whispered as I tore my eyes off the man and looked down at my friend. She sat back in her seat as she looked at me with a smile.  

“OH!” she shouted as she looked down at her drink. She slammed the rest of it in one go before standing up, “I have to pee! Stay here! If I’m not back in 10 minutes, assume I went off with that hot guy.” She slipped off her chair before pointing somewhere in the bar. I looked over my shoulder and at a group of guys who were closer to our age than the guy behind her.

“O-okay,” my words stumbled as I carefully pushed her body off mine. I held back my chuckle as she stumbled away from me and towards the bathroom. 

I turned back to the counter, my head dropping so I was looking at my drink. My fingers fiddled with the straws as I waited for my friend to return. The bright blue liquid sitting with ice wasn’t as good as it looked. Which was very unfortunate because I’ve had maybe two of them… Working on my third...

“Your friend… She’s rather excitable,” someone spoke from beside me. The seat my friend was once sitting in was now occupied by the man who sat beside her. I perked up and looked away from my drink. He was hunched over the bar, holding a small glass with an amber liquid. 

I didn’t realize I was staring at him till he cleared his throat and looked back at me. I jumped, looking down at the bar. I didn’t exactly know how to respond to him, words not coming from my mouth properly as I struggled to speak. So, I shrugged and stared at him.

“Y-yeah, yeah she’s like that… Especially when she’s drunk… She doesn’t know how to hold her booze,” I laughed as I lifted my drink to my lips. I searched for the two mixer straws with my mouth, closing my eyes before taking a sip. “Y-you didn’t hear anything she said,” I asked, my words slurring slightly from nervousness, "Did you?" I added as I leaned on the counter. The man looked at me with a raised eyebrow. 

“Uh, erm,” he looked back down at his drink, not directly answering my question. I sighed deeply as I planted my face into my hand, leaning against the bar. 

“She was being really loud,” I laughed as slowly slipped off my stool and into his body, “Oh, sorry.” I looked up at him as I held onto his arm, “I think I should stop drinking,” I laughed as I recollected myself and moved away from the stranger’s body. 

“It’s okay.” The man looked at me, helping me get back on my seat, “I’m going to get you water.” He looked between me and the bartender. 

“Listen, listen, yeah, whatever, like so what, I’m still a virgin… I just have my bar set way too high for men,” I started as I turned to face him, “I should lower that bar and my standards,” I mumbled as I leaned against the counter. The man looked down at me with a raised eyebrow. Why did I think my friend would be embarrassing to me when I can just do it myself?

“Definitely getting you water,” he laughed. After a moment of silence, the bartender placed two glasses of water on the counter in front of me and the stranger. The man looked over at me before pushing the glass closer to me. “Drink it, you’ll feel better,”  

“Is it safe, right? Like…” I let my words trail off, hoping he’d clue into my worries. He looked at me with raised brows, like what I had said was absurd that I would even suggest something like that.

“It’s safe… just water and ice,” he returned, his tone telling me he was mildly offended that I'd think he drugged water. But to be fair, he's a random stranger in the bar, talking to a girl who's had a few drinks.

“Thanks,” I muttered before lifting the glass to my lips. The icy coolness of the water hit my lips and tongue and I already felt a million times better. I couldn’t help but let out a pleased hum. 

“Spencer... by the way,” the man finally introduced himself to me. I swallowed roughly as I looked up at him. My eyebrows knit together as I stared at him, my words tumbling from my mouth as I introduced myself.

“What are you doing here?” I asked, looking around the semi-filled room of drunken adults. 

“After work drinks,” he spoke softly. He didn’t sound too enthused by after work drinks. Part of me wondered why that was… Maybe all his friends ditched him too. 

“Sounds boring,” I laughed as I looked back at him, “My friend wanted to get drinks… But she wanted to catch up and to… Well, just drink,” I sighed as I leaned my entire body against the counter, “As you can see, she ditched me… Like always,” I scoffed before looking over at where my friend actually was. She was standing beside the cute guy, leaning close to him. I wouldn’t be surprised if she’d be gone with him the next time I looked over at her. 

“Maybe it’s your turn to leave her at the bar.” Spencer watched as I lifted the glass of water back to my mouth. I nearly spat water all over the place with his words.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I asked as I moved my chair closer to him. He seemed content with where I was sitting, and how close I was to him. To be honest, I wished I could be closer to him. 

“Could mean anything you wanted it to mean,” he replied with a shrug. I stared at him for a moment, slowly leaning closer to him, but not getting too close. 

“You’re right.” I smiled as I stared at him. He looked away from his drink and nodded. “Like going home before her to go to bed early.” I laughed. Spencer returned the laughter and shook his head. 

“If that’s what you want it to mean,” he smiled at me. I rolled my eyes and shrugged.

“Nah, I don’t think I wanna go home yet,” I sighed, resting my head on my fist, and my elbow on the bar counter. We both stayed quiet for a moment, letting the silence carry our “conversation”.

“So… Older men…?” Spencer asked after the long silence. He looked down at me with a smug smile. I froze in my seat, my eyes on the glass of, now, ice in front of me. 

“You did hear that conversation,” I lazily laughed as I looked up at him. I couldn’t help but nibble lightly on my lower lip as I looked at him. “Nah…” I looked up at him, feeling a small smile grow on my lips. Spencer looked down at me with a raised eyebrow and a sly smirk. “Maybe… Possibly… Definitely older men…” My head fell back in laughter. Spencer kept his eyes on me and his smile grew more amused than smug. 

Spencer definitely met my standards in men. He seemed to be older than me, I wasn’t exactly willing to question that though. There was a certain… gentlemanly-ness to him that I infinitely enjoyed. He was definitely not like any other guy I’ve talked to. And he 100% wasn’t some 20-something-year-old guy who claims he has all the experience in the world but doesn’t. Spencer seemed very experienced, in what? Well, everything I guess. I could just sense it by the way he talked to me and the way he held himself.

“My last boyfriend was 10 years older than me, and the one before that was 7 years older…” I paused, staring at him. I wondered what he was thinking, and if he was thinking what everyone thinks… ‘This girl has totally got daddy issues.’ “I don’t have daddy issues,” I rolled my eyes as I gravitated closer to his body. I looked up at Spencer, my hand falling to rest on his thigh as I moved closer to him. His body tensed slightly at my touch. I felt a little bad at first, but when I went to move my hand, he stopped me. His hand reaching out to grab my wrist.

“Even if you did, I don’t think that would influence your taste in men.” He looked down at me. It was then did I realize just how close our faces were to each other. 

“That’s good to hear because most people just automatically assume that I have daddy issues,” I murmured as I looked between his lips and eyes, “Although… It’s just a lie… I tell myself that because people always say women with daddy issues are sluts… But I’m not…” I whispered as I slowly moved closer to him.

“I didn’t think that,” Spencer furrowed his eyebrows and shook his head, “And I’ve known you for all of 45 minutes,” he laughed as he removed his hand from my wrist.

“Good,” I laughed lightly. “Can I kiss you?” my voice was a murmur as I looked into his eyes. Spencer licked his lips before parting them slightly. He didn’t seem too shocked or taken aback by my proposition. But when he spoke he was a little… nervous.

“If… If that’s what you want,” he whispered as he looked at me. I took a deep breath, my hand resting on his leg shifting a bit as I moved closer to him. Spencer took a shaky breath as I looked up at him.

“Do you want it?” 

“I… I’d be lying if I said no, but I don’t want to take advantage of a woman under the influence,” 

“It’s what I want,” I leaned even closer, not even an inch between us. I could feel his breath through my nose, that’s how close we are. “And I’m not under the influence,” I spoke, losing my confidence with each word. It was also an obvious lie too. We both knew how many drinks I had. “I’ve had two glasses of water and a handful of bar nuts, and it’s been like an hour since my last drink. I’m okay,” I whispered as I leaned totally on him. 

Spencer looked down at me, his face still as his eyes examined my face. He slowly brought a hand up to my face, resting it gently under my chin. I smiled, feeling my face heat up again. When he squinted his eyes, I felt my heart rate spike. 

“Please,” I begged. The bar and world around me simply vanished as I became so involved with Spencer and everything about him. In that moment, I was obsessed with him. “Kiss me,”

Spencer let out a soft breath of air from his lips before pressing them to mine. If the cool water didn’t sober me up, this kiss sure did. But at the same time, it was so intoxicating. Sure I’ve kissed men before, but this time it was… Different. Something else was going to happen tonight, with Spencer. But I couldn’t exactly place what it was that was going to happen.

My free hand lifted from its place beside me and went to his head, my fingers getting tangled in his hair. My other hand stayed put on his thigh, my grip slowly hardening on his leg. I tried to be quiet as a moan came from me, but I obviously failed. Spencer moaned right back into my mouth. I suppose I was happy he didn’t have an issue with our volume. Thank God the music was loud enough to drown us out.

When I pulled away from him, I nearly fell into the bar. Thankfully Spencer looked at me, his hand going to my hip to keep me from crashing into the counter. I looked up at him, taking a deep breath to get my head clear. But it was hard when I went back to him, my arms wrapping around his neck as my lips crashed back into his. 

Spencer’s hands moved quickly over my back, resting on my hips, lower back. Anywhere he could reach, he would touch. He turned more to face me, allowing me to stand between his legs. 

“We… We should stop… Before one of us does something we’ll… We’ll regret,” he whispered softly. Spencer pressed his forehead to mine as he spoke. I took a deep breath, my chest rising and falling quickly. 

“No… No, we shouldn’t.” I looked up at him, my hands getting knotted up in his hair again. Spencer looked at me, a certain softness on his face. “I think… You… You meet my standards, Spencer.” I blinked at him. 

Spencer quickly looked over at the bartender before fumbling for his wallet. I looked at him, watching him pull out more money than needed and shoving it in the bartender’s hands. He looked back at me, wrapping an arm around my waist and guiding me out. I smiled as Spencer dragged me out of the bar. 

For the first time ever, I was leaving the bar before my friend… And I didn’t care about her. 

Spencer looked back at me as we stepped outside and the semi-cool air of the night felt really good against my hot skin. Inside I almost couldn’t breathe, but outside it felt like it just came to me. It was so… refreshing.

I didn’t realize Spencer had called a taxi till he was pulling me to the vehicle. I looked up at him, blinking slowly as he pulled the car door open. Swallowing down the sudden excitement and fear mixture, I slid into the taxi before him.

 I wasn’t scared because I was having sex for the first time. No, I was scared that I was going home with a strange man. Anything could happen, honestly. What if he was a murderer? 

“Where to?” The taxi driver looked up in the rearview mirror at me and Spencer. I was the quickest to talk, giving him my address before Spencer could give his. 

Spencer glanced at me, watching as I nervously played with the hem of my dress. When I glanced at him, I noticed that he was turned to face me more, whereas I was still, facing the seat in front of me.

“Are you okay?” he asked, his voice low and soft. I moved my head a little too fast as I looked at him. 

“Mm, yeah, yeah, I’m fine. I’ve never done something like this before, that’s all,” I whispered, looking at him as I bit my lower lip. Spencer nodded as he looked at me, watching as I shifted closer to him. 

“We don’t… We don’t have to…” Spencer started but stopped when I maneuvered to straddle his legs. He looked up at me as he carefully rested his hands on my hips. I swallowed roughly as I looked down at him. My hands pressed to his chest to hold myself upright, and my head occasionally hitting the roof of the taxi with every bump we went over.

“I know... I know we don’t have to do anything…” My heart slamming in my chest as I stared at him. I moved my hands from his chest to gently cup his face. His cheeks were stubbly, prickling at the palms of my hands as I held his face. With one final deep breath of air, I pressed my lips to his, this time a lot more passionately than before. 

Spencer pressed his lips down my face, and neck while his hands roamed my body. My hands stayed planted on his face, keeping me in place over his body. I was so into him just… touching me that I didn’t even realize his hand had slipped in the front of my dress. His fingers gently stroking the skin on my inner thigh.

My head fell to the side as he pressed his lips down my neck more before going towards my chest. A huff of air came from my lungs as I pushed my hands through his hair. 

“Uh… We’re, uh… at your destination…” The poor taxi driver spoke from his spot in the front. I moved Spencer’s head away from my body and I looked down at him. 

“You… you pay him.” I stared down at him, feeling a certain embarrassment grow in my stomach, and across my face. Spencer quickly fumbled for his wallet before pulling out more money than necessary and tossing it to the driver. After he shoved his wallet back into his pocket, he wrapped his arms around my waist before exiting the taxi. A squeal came from my mouth as he carried me out of the vehicle and towards my complex. 

“Spencer!” I screamed as my arms wrapped around his neck. A dizzying feeling took me over as a hard bulge pressed between my legs. I almost couldn’t hold back a moan.

 He laughed before putting his lips back on my neck, nipping lightly on the sensitive skin. And I couldn’t help but let out a soft moan, almost a whimper. 

“Keys,” Spencer muttered into my neck. I took a deep breath, my chest pressing into his body more. 

“Unlocked,” I gasped as he nipped my neck again. He hummed as he opened the door and entered my home. He put my back down once we were inside, door shut and locked. I grabbed his hand and pulled him down the hall towards my bedroom.

Spencer pushed the door shut and pressed me against it, pressing his lips to mine like I was the last woman on earth. His arms were propped up on either side of my head, blocking me between the door and his body. It’s a good thing I didn’t feel trapped because I otherwise wouldn’t have allowed that to happen.

My breathing picked up when he pressed his hips against me. A pit grew in my stomach, and I couldn’t tell if it was actually anxiety or excitement. I was willing to bet it was both. 

As the anxiety slowly melted away, a new feeling took over. A feeling of want and hunger. It was the type of feeling that could be satisfied by another person, or by my own doing. But, I knew I wanted it from Spencer. I needed it from Spencer. 

“I need to feel something,” I whimpered against his lips as he pinned me against the door, “Please, I need to feel you.” My leg wrapping around his waist to pull him closer to me. I almost couldn’t breathe, my excitement getting the better of me. 

Spencer looked down at me, a hand slowly coming up to my face, resting gently on my cheek. My eyes blinked slowly as he examined my face. I wondered what he was thinking, and if they were good thoughts. I only wondered what he thought because of how he looked at me. His features were soft and gentle like he was a child holding a fluffy, white dandelion. But the way his eyes moved across my face… They were hungry. Unlike his soft facial features, his eyes wanted to destroy everything in sight… 

And I liked it. It should have scared me, right? A man looking at me like he was about to destroy my life… But the way he did it… I liked...

While he kept one hand on my face, his other hand was high on my upper thigh. His thumb carefully moving back and forth on the soft skin. I wonder if he knew how desperate I was beginning to feel. And he only fueled my desperation the further up his hand traveled.  

A sharp gasp fell from my mouth as his hand finally moved against my underwear. His fingers were gentle as they ghosted over me. I wondered if he could feel how aroused I was through my underwear. Probably, it was impossible to hide that…

The way his hands touched me and held me was weird. He was still gentle, but there was a certain hastiness to it that I noticed. Like he was trying to claim something that wasn’t his. 

“Please,” I whimpered as he trailed kisses down my neck. My chest began heaving as he began tracing his finger over my underwear. Okay, now he had to know how desperate I was. Spencer groaned once he pressed his lips back to mine. 

“You’re so wet, Princess,” he whispered as his hand on my face fell to my chin. Another gasp came from me at the pet name. He took the opportunity to pull on my lower lip with his teeth. “I’ve hardly done anything,” he moved his head away from me and smiled, “Hardly touched you at all.” 

I looked up at him, my lower lip pouted out slightly. It was hard to say what his next action was, but I heavily anticipated it. He smiled softly as his thumb pulled down my lower lip. I wasn’t sure what to do, but I yelped when he pushed my underwear to the side, and carefully slipped a finger between my folds. 

Spencer looked down at me with a pleased smile. It was clear to me that he enjoyed my struggle. I placed my hands on his arms to keep myself up. And even though my body was pressed against the door, and I braced myself against him, my knees still wanted to give out.

I’ve never had another person touch me like this before. My previous relationships didn’t last long enough for them to do something like this. And, I’ve never exactly had this feeling before. Well, let me rephrase that, I have felt this feeling before. I’ve never felt this way from another person. I’ve masturbated before, after all I’m lonely, not Catholic. But, the feeling happening because someone else is causing it. 

“Do you like it when I touch you like this?” Spencer whispered as he slowly pressed a finger into me. I looked up at him and nodded as I pressed my lips together. “Use your words,” 

“Yes, it feels so good… s’good, Daddy,” I whimpered as I looked at him. I swear I saw the corner of his lips twitched slightly. Did my title for him do to him what it did to me? It was obvious he liked it. 

Spencer stared at me for a moment before harshly pressing his lips back to mine. It felt as if he was taking the breath right from my lungs with everything he was doing. His hand between my legs moved a little faster, my hips grinding down on him in reaction.

“Say it again,” he murmured against my lips. The way he moved his face caused our noses to squish together. My heart was slamming in my chest and I could hear it in my head. It felt like at any moment it’d break out of me. 

I softly yelped when he carefully inserted a second finger in me. His pace quickened slightly and I couldn’t concentrate on anything.  

A tension grew in the pit of my belly, and slowly grew as the seconds ticked by. I wasn’t sure how long I’d make it till the tension cracked. I wondered if Spencer sensed that too.

 I removed my hands from his arms and wrapped my arms around his neck to hold him closer to me. It was so hard to hold back the soft whimpers and moans I was feeling getting trapped in my throat. Although, Spencer seemed to enjoy my struggle.

It became more of a struggle the stronger the tension grew. It was close too. 

“Say it again.”

“I’m s’close, Daddy,” I whined, my head involuntarily falling to my shoulder. Spencer looked down at me before moving to press his lips to my neck. His lips attaching to the base of my throat before sucking gently on the sensitive skin. 

Again my body reacted by trying to get closer to him. The closer I got to him, the faster he went. I could tell that he was trying to bring me closer to the edge, to finish the moment. 

“Let go, it’s okay,” Spencer whispered. I swallowed roughly, my head falling forward onto his shoulder before my body slowly fell into his. It was hard not to stay quiet, my sounds getting louder as I finally finished. 

I stayed against his body, trying to recollect my breathing for a moment. Spencer rested a hand on my back, rubbing soothing circles on my shoulder. And after I had my moment, I stood back up, leaning against the door behind me.

Spencer looked back at me as he pulled his hand out from my underwear. He looked down at his hand, more specifically the two fingers he just had in me. I nearly lost my balance again when he put those exact fingers in his mouth. And it didn’t help at all when he moaned. 

“You did so good, Princess.” He looked at me with a soft smile. Part of me was worried that was all we were going to do. Sure it was nice, but that was that the end of it? 

He cupped my face again before pressing his lips back to mine. His arms were wrapped around my body before he led me towards my bed. But I didn’t realize we were going to my bed till the edge of it hit the back of my knees.

A breath of air was knocked from my lungs the second my back collided with my bed. I looked up at Spencer, watching as he fought to take his jacket off. But when he finally did get it off, he was back over my body, his lips on mine while his hands roamed my body. My fingers quickly unbuttoned his shirt, and his hands were pushing up my dress. His touch was like wildfire across my body, and it felt near impossible to breathe.

“Please, Spencer,” I whimpered as his lips reattached to my neck. My eyes fluttered shut as he gently sucked a spot on the base of my neck. His hands pushed the top of my dress down, making it sit around my hips.

"Tell me what you want, Princess," he spoke against my skin.

"You… I just need you…" 

It was really… strange. I had just met him not more than 2 hours ago… and I couldn't get enough of him. Even though I knew this would be the only time I'd ever see him, I never wanted the moment to end. I needed him more than I needed air, it felt like. I needed the night to last as long as possible.

Spencer looked down at me for a moment before getting off the bed. I had to hold back my laughter as he struggled to take his pants off. And after throwing his shirt to the ground, he was back over me, his body between my legs. My chest tightened, and at the same time, my heart sped. 

I tried not looking further than his neck. But it was so hard. Did I want to see what he looked like before anything happened? Or would it make me want to back out? 

I shouldn’t look...

“Will it hurt?” I brought my eyes to look up at him. I wasn’t exactly scared. I was more worried about it hurting than anything else, I think. I wanted this.

“Maybe for a moment, but not too long,” he whispered as he brushed his thumb over my cheekbone, “If it hurts too much we can stop… But you have to tell me,” he spoke so softly. 

“I can do that,” I whispered, keeping his eyes on him. My arms wrapped around his neck as he pressed a soft, yet passionate kiss to my lips. His hips slowly started to lower towards my sex. That was when my breathing picked up, and my chest heaved slightly.

“It’s okay, you’re doing such a great job,” he whispered against my lips, “I got you.”

A soft wince came from my mouth when he carefully entered me. My fingers knotted in his hair, gently tugging it as he slowly kept going. I struggled to take a deep breath. My head fell back and my lips opened.

“Spencer,” I whined, finally allowing air to enter my lungs, “You’re so big,” I moaned as I pressed my head into my pillow. One of my arms fell from his body and landed on the bedding beside me. My hand gripped the bedding. 

“You’re doing a great job, Princess,” Spencer whispered as he grasped my hand and held it. I looked up at him and nodded lightly. “You’re okay?”

“I’m okay,” I whispered and stared at him. After a moment, he carefully moved his hips, and soon after fell into a steady rhythm. 

“Please… Please don’t stop doing what you’re doing,” I gasped. I slowly ran my hands up his chest to his shoulders before wrapping my arms around his neck. Spencer looked down at me, his eyes half-closed as he stared. “It feels so good,” I whimpered as he started to slowly move his hips. 

My legs tensed for a moment when he bottomed out in me, and I could feel the wind being knocked out of me. Spencer looked down at me as he brought a hand to rest on my cheek.

Spencer grabbed my hand and moved it to rest against my belly. An unfamiliar bump hit my hand through my stomach and caused me to gasp and look up at him. Spencer smiled and nodded lightly.

“Do you feel how deep I am?” he whispered softly.

“You… You’re…” I took a deep breath as I stared at him. He pressed his lips back to mine. His movements hastened and he pulled his hand away from mine, moving it between us and to where our bodies met. A small whimper fell from my mouth, again, as he began rubbing a finger on the already sensitive bundle of nerves. “Daddy,” I whined as his hips quickened for a moment before faltering.

I cried out as an unfamiliar warmth spread throughout my body. Spencer moaned into my ear. My legs were wrapped around him, clinging to him as he rode out our highs together. And, as I came, I couldn’t help but moan out his name.

My chest was heaving as my breathing tried to catch up with the extreme movements I was just doing. I couldn’t move my legs off him. I wasn’t ready for him to leave me just yet.

“Don’t move…” I gasped, looking up at him, “Please, Daddy… stay inside me…” I cried as he began moving away from me. My hands gripped his arms, holding him above me. Spencer looked down at me, his eyes glued to the way I squirmed beneath him. There was such an intense gaze in his eyes as he looked at me, I wasn’t sure what to do. 

He lifted his hands and rested them on my cheeks. The way he held himself over me without actually crushing me was impressive. What was even more impressive was how he carefully pressed his hips back to mine.  

“It’s okay, I got you,” he whispered, brushing the apple of my cheek with his thumb. I stared at him, my chest quickly rising, only to fall just as fast. It felt hard to breathe, my body still feeling full with him. “You did such a good job, Princess,” he pressed his forehead to mine.

I didn’t even realize I was crying till Spencer’s thumb moved across my cheekbone. I looked up at him with wide eyes. 

“Are you okay?” Spencer whispered as he kept his eyes on my face.

“I’m good. I’m okay. I promise.” I wrinkled my nose and nodded. Spencer smiled softly and returned the nod. “I’m-I don’t know why I’m crying,” I laughed lightly before sniffling my nose, “I’m sorry.”

“Sex can be an emotional thing for some people. And since this was your first time, it was an emotional experience. You’re okay. You don’t have anything to be sorry for.” Spencer reassured. I stared at him and nodded, agreeing with what he said. “I’m going to get you water and a wipe or something.”

“Uhm… Yeah that’s okay… I guess. Bathroom is over there. I should have a cup in there. And there should be paper towels too.” I nodded as I gestured towards the bathroom. Spencer pecked my lips one last time before pulling away from me and leaving the bed.

‘It’s just a one-night stand,’ I kept telling myself just so I wouldn’t forget what this really was. And, in the morning, I’d never see him again.

{***}{***}{***}

My body jerked slightly when I woke up. An arm was wrapped around my middle, and the body that was connected to the arm was close to mine. Her head was resting on my chest, her ear right over my heart. She, and like my surroundings, were unfamiliar. 

“Crap,” I whispered, looking down at the girl and her sleeping form. She hummed as she nuzzled her head more into my chest. I pulled on my lower lips as I carefully pulled her arm off mine. I had to be quick as I slipped out of the bed.

Usually, I wasn’t the type to just sleep with someone and then leave them the next day. To have a one-night stand, if you will. If today wasn’t the sort of day it was, I’d stay with this girl till she woke. But I had to leave to get ready for a new semester at the college. 

I quickly grabbed my shirt and pants, throwing them on my body as I quietly and quickly left her apartment. My feet dragged quietly across the ground as I got closer to the front door. I pulled the door open at just the right time. Or maybe it was a bad time.

A young woman was standing with a carrier filled with coffee cups, her fist was lifted like she was about to knock. Our eyes locked before hers carefully looked down my body, lingering in spots that made me very aware. 

“Holy shit,” she stared at me with wide eyes, “She wasn’t joking when she said she likes older men,” she stated, the shock in her tone was so apparent that it left me in shock. It was her friend from last night.

“I-I’m sorry.” I looked at her with furrowed brows.

“You’re old enough to be her father,” she spoke before pushing past me. I turned as she entered the apartment. “She’s got balls of steel to fuck a guy like you,” she spoke as she set the carrier on the coffee table, “But, I’m happy she did… Hope her first time was good,” she chuckled before winking at me.

“I-I have to go,” I nodded before leaving. I pulled the door shut. I tried not to linger in front of her home for too long. She’d probably be awake soon, and I really didn’t want to stick behind. 

I kept my head low as I ventured on my walk of shame to the closest coffee shop. And then, from the coffee shop, I’d get a taxi to return home… To return to my home.

The second anyone finds out I had a one-night stand, I’m dead. I’m leaving. I could only hope it stayed between me and those two girls. 

{***}{***}{***}

I looked over at my coworker and nodded, only half paying attention to what they were saying. Which, in turn, made me feel bad. This morning is not my morning and there were only so many reasons why.

Then I looked across the grounds, looking at all the new and familiar faces returning for a new semester of classes. My eyes landed on a familiar girl walking beside a friend. She was laughing and smiling at whatever her friend said.

“Fuck,” I muttered as I stared at the girl. Then she looked up and saw me. An embarrassed look grew across her face as her gaze fell from mine. I kept my eyes on the girl across the campus for a moment longer, long enough to notice that the friend she was with had spilled coffee over her shirt.

“I have to go…” I grimaced as I looked at my colleague. They looked back at me before slowly nodded. I kept my head low as I walked back towards the building and towards my lecture hall. 

Thankfully I was the first and only person in the room. Enough time to prepare over everything. To free my mind of… of her and what we had done last night. But oh dear God, it was so hard. 

I thought I had a lot of time on my hands, seeing as the class didn’t start for 5 more minutes. I thought it was bad when I saw her across the campus. Then she entered my lecture hall, clearing her throat to get my attention. 

She introduced herself like I had no idea who I was. As if this was the first time we ever met. Maybe she forgot? But she definitely wasn’t drunk enough to forget. I wouldn’t have taken advantage of someone wasted as Luke or Derek would say. She was lucid, I know that much. Hell, she was able to give the taxi driver her address. 

“Spencer… Reid… Professor Reid is fine... Reid... Doctor Reid. I'll-I’ll answer to pretty much anything,” I rambled, feeling as if I couldn’t stop myself from talking. She looked at me with a knowing smile, and I wondered if she thought ‘Oh, I know you’ll answer to anything… Daddy,’ That’s probably a bad thing to think, right?

“Oh! It’s wonderful meeting you, Professor Reid,” she kept talking as if she didn’t know who I was. 

“Pleasure meeting… Meeting you too,” I paused with a forced smile at her, “Can’t wait to have you in my class.” I stared at her. The way she stared at me confirmed that she was pretending that she didn’t know me. I thanked God or whatever other Deity was out there that she was pretending. I don’t think I would have been able to survive if she acted like we knew each other. 

“Can’t wait to be in your class.” She nodded at me before going to the first seat in the front row. I stared at her for a prolonged moment, noting the way she crossed her legs at her ankle, and looked down at her notes. She held her pen between her thumb and forefinger, the end of it just barely between her lips. I couldn’t stop hating on myself for just leaving her this morning.

 Then I noticed she was staring back at me. She had a smug smile on her lips as she looked at me. It felt as if she was reading my mind as if she knew every thought that had passed my mind from the moment she entered my lecture hall.

‘Shit,’ I thought as the memories of last night forced themselves to the front of my head. All the things I said to her last night stood in the spotlight. The idiot part of me that said the stuff about impregnating her and how she kept calling me daddy stood out loud and clear. I broke this poor girl, and it was too late. And the worst part about it is… I’d do it again if I had the chance.

 My pants tightened and my face grew hot. How the fuck was I supposed to get through the day? Let alone this semester?! That’s the thing I wasn’t supposed to do. 

I was happy when the end of the class came. Everyone stayed in the room for a moment, bantering with each other for a moment before leaving.

I kept my eyes, and head, low as all the students filed out of the room. A few people stayed around to ask me their questions, or give me their comments. It was until the last standing student had exited the room did I realize someone was still at her desk. 

“Is there something-” ‘I can help you with,’

“Why’d you leave this morning?” she asked, standing up from her spot. I looked up and away from the paperwork I was “working” on. Swallowing down my own pride and unnecessary fears, I stood. My fingertips resting on top of my desk. “Woulda made you coffee… Breakfast even…” she whispered with a shrug. 

“Right…”

“You were hoping I was so drunk I forgot who you were, right? That’s what it is?” she asked, her eyebrows knitting together as she spoke. I watched as she stepped around her desk and approached my own. “I thought… I don’t know what it’s like the morning after… But if that’s what it is… Then I don’t want it,” she scoffed as she stared at me. I didn’t mean to hurt her as much as I did. But it was already too late, and the damage was done. 

“That’s not what it’s like. I promise,” I whispered as I looked at her. I wasn’t prepared to make up excuses and lies as to why I just left. But I also don’t think she’d believe my truth either. 

“Then why did you leave,” she ask-No, she begged. Begged me for the truth. 

“I-I, uh, I had to leave because of this. I needed to get ready for this class,” I tapped down on the hard surface of my desk. Her eyes dropped down to the desktop. I could see the range of emotions on her face as she looked at all the papers scattered on my desk. Maybe she would believe me. Again, I don’t think I would have been able to come up with a believable lie.

“You could have woken me up, still… I seriously would have made you coffee,” she muttered before shrugging, again. 

“Next time then,” I swallowed roughly as I stared at her. Her eyes shot up from the desk and landed right on my face. I could tell she was trying to keep her sudden excitement hidden. But I knew she was excited because of the way the corner of her lip twitched up slightly, and the way she shifted her stance, and the way her grip on her books changed, and all the other things I could list off but won’t.

“Next time?” It was obvious she struggled to keep her voice low.  

“I mean, never say never, right?” I asked, shoving my hands in my pockets. She looked at me with a smile as she hugged her books closer to her chest.

“Right… Never say never,” she whispered as she looked back down at the desk, “It was nice meeting you, Professor Reid,” she paused before looking up at me, a smug smile back on her lips, “And, it was nice seeing you again, Spencer,” she winked at me before walking out of my lecture hall. I swallowed roughly, staring at the space she once occupied. 

Fuck.

if you want to be a part of a taglst or have any comments about this one shot, let me know here

taglist: @spencer-reid-in-a-pool​  @thebluetint​ @muffin-cup​ @itsmyblogandillreblogifiwantto​ @spencersmagic​

[let-the-bands-take-c0ntrol]

12 Days of Holidays: Day 7

Calum HoodXFemale Reader

Warnings: pure fluff, winter weather, dating apps, crowds of people, tinge of angst

The music was loud and yet you couldn’t focus on the group that was performing on stage. Your mind drifting towards Calum and the weekend you had spent with him and his friends. It wasn’t necessarily a real kiss you had given Calum, but it had been enough for the two of you to act a bit awkward around one another. His messages became less frequent after the ski trip and you found yourself missing the conversations you two had. Granted holidays were approaching fast, and he was probably busy with family stuff, but you haven’t even received a random meme or “hey” from him. Maybe you were wrong to think there was something more between the two of you. 

“I say you should just get back on the dating apps,” your best friend, Mika, shouted over the music. She slid a mug of spiked apple cider over to you, and bumped your shoulder with hers. 

“Yeah you’re right,” you sighed, already pulling out your phone to dust off your old dating profile. Your gaze scanned over the room as you deleted a few pictures to replace them with newer ones. “This group isn't so bad,” you mumbled. Mika nodded in agreement, glancing over your shoulder to peek at the pictures you had chosen. 

You found yourselves at the holiday festival a lot in the past few days. There were things to do and each night was something new. Tonight the city had decided to go all out with food vendors, art walks, and a stage for people to show off. Local groups from all over were performing and even some of the people weren’t musical talents. There were around twenty rounded tables surrounding the area of the stage and you and your friends had claimed one smack dab in the middle. You were happy to finally have a calmed down day. Between ice skating, holiday parties, and skiing, you were starting to get drained with this holiday season. You were starting to warm up to this time of year and it was all because of Calum, now you weren’t so sure. 

“What about him?” you questioned, showing your phone screen to the few of your friends that were listening in on the conversation. 

“Oh definitely a fuckboy. Look at that pose!” one of your friends laughed. You swiped left, muttering comments under your breath. After a few minutes everyone else got bored with your task, their attention turning towards the stage again. You could see a few of the men on the app in the crowd around you. The idea of meeting any of them around now would just be mortifying. Your eyes widened in surprise when you came across something you weren’t expecting: Calum’s own dating profile. An uneasy feeling washed over you and you clicked on his profile out of curiosity. You knew why you were back on the dating app, but for some reason seeing Calum’s own profile made you upset. You two were single, and you weren’t together so you knew you shouldn’t feel this way, but yet you did. 

“Fuck it,” you muttered to yourself, swiping right on his profile. You liked Calum and since you two hadn’t been talking for the last few days there was no harm in you wanting to match. And you did. I had only taken a minute for you to get a notification on it and your heart began to hammer in your chest when you received a text message from Calum. 

Are my eyes deceiving me or did we just match on a dating app?

Another message came through and it was the emoji eyes. You couldn’t help but laugh at his message. Taking a second to collect your thoughts before responding back.

Actually my finger slipped, I meant to swipe left. . .

You placed your phone in your pocket, choosing to play a bit with Calum. You weren’t going to allow him to get off that easily. He was the one to have left you on read to begin with. “I’m going to roam the food trucks, you want to come with?” Mika asked, getting bored with the magic act that was currently going on. 

“Food sounds great,” you replied, feeling a multitude of buzzes in your pocket. 

Ha ha, you’re so funny. . .I’m glad we matched though

I wasn’t sure how to ask the last time we hung out, but since we matched it gives me the chance. Do you want to go on a date? 

Shit, did I misread our encounters? 

Y/N?

You shook your head in amusement. Calum’s cool was cracking and you could tell from the messages. Normally you were quick with replying to messages, so you knew he might’ve been on edge when just two minutes went by from the first text he had sent. 

Sorry, I’m out at some festival. So our matching wasn’t just coincidence? 

Course not-so what do you say?

[warmblanketwhump]

safe enough to fall

a little university-themed thing I wrote using @sicktember prompts: comfort item, sneaky temperature check, medicine, unlikely caregiver, and lightly inspired by these prompts

the grip of the winter’s cold was their constant, unrelenting companion - but sometimes, B just wished it would be a little less faithful.

It doesn’t ease in the morning, when B wakes up coughing with a cold nose and stiff limbs. It stays as B shivers through the lukewarm shower and the hurried layering of clothes over damp, goosebumped skin. It sticks to them like cling wrap on the bus, in the lecture hall, the windy walk to their next class, makes them tense their rattling jaw, and leaves them hunched over and huddled up, desperate to conserve any scrap of heat.

This was a fact of their university existence - that after the pleasant crispness of fall, their poor, scholarship-funded body was plunged into four months of frozen hell. They didn’t like to complain - after all, they were getting a free education. But no one told them how brutal their university’s winters would be, nor that dorm heating was little more than a few puffs of warm air every hour, or that regardless of how many layers they pulled on, they’d be chilled to the bone until late March.

Their final class of the week is in a drafty science lab, and they hold back a groan. The cold's not the only source of their dread - it was the thought of spending 90 minutes with their perky, overly friendly lab partner, A.

A, whose parents were well-off, well-known benefactors of their university. A, who lived in a nice house with proper heating and had the money for a warm winter coat. A, who obliviously chattered on about anything and everything. Besides that, they were just so...happy. All the time.

The can afford to be, B thought miserably. There was no way all that sunshine could be real.

B really tried to tamp down their bitterness, but it was hard to listen to someone gush on about their amazing weekend their family spent on some tropical island when B spent the same weekend wrapped up in blankets, trying to stay warm enough to study their nomenclature notes.

Two minutes before class, A bounds into the lab like a freed golden retriever and begins their usual volley of caffeinated questions, which B responds to in short, clipped answers. Suddenly, the questions stop and A’s brows furrow.

“You look cold. Are you okay?”

B shifts on their stool and tucks their fingers into the sleeves of their worn secondhand coat, pulling it tighter with a shudder. “I am cold. It’s winter.” They cough weakly into their elbow - the nagging cough has gripped them for weeks now.

“Are you sick?”

Direct, then. That was new. “No. At least, I don’t think so. I don’t have a fever or anything.” In truth, they had been feeling a little lower than usual the past couple of days, the chill a little deeper, the aches more pronounced, the cough a bit more painful. But in their book, that was hardly enough call themselves sick. B sniffles and A opens their mouth to comment further, but the professor calls the class to attention, and the moment is gone.

90 minutes later, they’ve got their work cut out for them - a ten-page lab report that’s going to count for nearly a quarter of their final grade. And as luck would have it, it was a partner project, which meant B got to spend more time with the equivalent of human rocket fuel.

“So...do you want to just knock this out tonight?” A's eyes dart around nervously.

B frowns - it’s almost the weekend, and they figured A would have plans with friends this evening. But B sure doesn’t have anything going on., so they don’t protest. “No… I s’pose we should get as much done as possible while it’s still fresh. Want to go to the library?”

“Ugh." A cringes. "Do we have to? That place is like a tomb.”

B huffs indignantly. “It's not that bad," they mumble in a weak defense of their favorite study spot. A shoots them a glare, and B rolls their eyes. "Do you have somewhere better? It's Friday, so most places are closing up.”

“Well, my parents decided to go on some last-minute ski trip to the Alps again, so my place is free," A says as they step out into the biting wind. "Plus, I have a ton of food and it's actually warm in there, unlike these buildings.”

The promise of decent heating and food that wasn't from the dining hall was enough for B. "Fine. Your place." The pair trudge through the bitter wind as the sun begins to set, and soon they arrive at A's parents’ home - a beautiful, winding estate just a couple minutes away from campus. B has to bite their lip to keep their jaw off the ground - in the blustering snow, this place looks straight out of a Christmas card. Another reminder of how they don’t fit in this world.

Will you stop? B chastises themselves. A having money isn't a personal attack on you. Just enjoy the free food, finish the assignment and get over it.

Despite the towering exterior, B's house was quite cozy, colored in warm neutrals and filled with soft, comfortable furniture. Just past the mudroom, they spot a big living room filled with with an enormous overstuffed couch, squashy-looking pillows, and soft throw blankets. Everything about this place screams warm. A rubs their arms, suddenly aware of how cold they are. The heat nearly makes them dizzy, and they can feel the temperature difference as it seeps into their cold skin.

"Want some cocoa?" A tosses their bag into the corner and heads for an electric kettle in the kitchen, and B follows. "It always helps me warm up." B nods. A couple minutes later, A pushes over a steaming mug with the top entirely covered in marshmallows.

B wraps their chilled fingers around the mug and takes a sip, and the warm, rich liquid feels like heaven to their cold body. "That's amazing."

A smiles. "It's the good stuff." They sip in a surprising silence for a few moments, before A sighs in resignation. "As much as I wish this was just a social call, this report isn't gonna write itself." They grab a bag of popcorn and nod their head toward the living room, and B follows dutifully. A flicks on the gas fireplace and tosses B a throw blanket, and the pair gets to work.

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

After a couple hours of studying, three instances of indignantly thrown popcorn, and a dramatic reading of the periodic table, B realized that they may have misjudged A. Deep down, under the bubbly exterior, A was a genuinely kind, sweet person. It wasn't an act - they just were human sunshine. And the longer they spent time with them, the more B realized they didn't mind their company at all.

"Alright." A drops their pencil and rubs their eyes. "If I have to balance one more equation, my brain's gonna explode. Study break time." A flips on the TV and puts the volume on low.

B leans their head back on the couch and pulls their throw blanket to their chin, trying to ward off the shivery feeling in their core. Despite the heat of the fire, the mug of hot chocolate, and the thick blanket, they just can’t seem to get warm.

Their face feels hot, but their blood feels chilled and heavy, the weight of it making them ache deep down in their bones. B wraps their arms around their knees, trying to rub away the throbbing pain and get some warmth into their skin. They glance out the picture window at the now-blowing snow. It's gonna be a miserable walk home.

"B, you're shivering." A's turning to look at them now.

B startles. "It's-It's nothing. Just a chill." The concern in A's voice triggers their flight response. "I....I should probably get back to the dorms. It’s late–" They're cut off with a hacking cough that leaves them breathless and they wince at the ache in their chest.

"B, it's snowing, and you haven't even had dinner-"

"Where's my jacket?" They push themselves up and toss the throw blanket off, instantly regretting it as the air invades their pocket of hard fought warmth. They’re trembling and dizzy and desperately freezing, but they cannot stay here. Then, the world tilts and they fall back on to the couch. For a moment, they're just laying in an icy, spinning world, trying to catch their breath, when warmth suddenly envelops them.

A's tucking the same thick grey blanket around their shivering form. As they pull away, their hand lightly brushes over B's neck, then freezes. B twists away from the gentle touch, but it’s too late. Realization floods over A's face. Caught. "You lied. You are sick."

B groans, even as their fingers weave into the chunky knit and pull the warm layer closer. "A, please. Just let me go home. I'm probably contagious. You don't want me here."

"B, you look like death warmed over. I'm not sending you out in a blizzard when you're feverish like this. I won't do it." There's a spark in their eyes and a set to A's jaw that dares B to challenge them.

B leans back, defeated. Even though they want nothing more than to run out of this room, they're too weak to stand and too cold to move. So here they'll stay.

It's okay. Someone's here. You can give in now.

No. I can't. I can't let them see me like this.

What choice do you have? You already look awful. Let them help you.

A covers them with another blanket and places a gentle hand on their back, rubbing slowly. The firelight flickers, casting light and shadow across their solemn face. “B. Tell me what you're feeling, and I'll get you what you need.”

B swallows down the rising panic, the helpless vulnerability they feel, and takes a shallow, shaky breath. “I…I guess I just feel….not right. I’m always cold...but it's...worse.” They sniffle weakly, trying to still and order their swirling thoughts. “Chills, fever, cough, sore throat, kinda stuffed up. And it just hurts everywhere.”

A nods slowly, then leaves the room. They return in a few minutes with a few small bottles, carefully scanning the labels and holding them up for B to see.

“Can you take this? Any problems with this one?” B had to take a moment and match the brand names with their usual knockoff brands, but soon they had a couple over the counter medicines picked out, along with something for their cough.

A glances at the medicine labels once more. "This one says to take with food. I've got some leftover chicken and dumpling soup I can heat up - does that sound okay?"

B nods almost imperceptibly. "Sounds wonderful." A gets up to heat the soup, and B feels the anxiety rising in their stomach when they're not in the room with them. A returns with a mug and manages to gently spoon a few sips of broth into B's mouth before B starts falling asleep, clutching the grey blanket even tighter to their shoulders.

A smiles sadly. “That blanket's my favorite whenever I'm not feeling good. It's the best thing you could have to fight off what you’ve got. Trust me.”

B curls into the soft fabric. It was as if the warm environment of the apartment and the comfort of the blanket had been a signal that it was safe to leave survival mode, rest for a moment, open the floodgates that had been holding back whatever had been ailing them for weeks.

After B takes their medicine, A’s eyes shift awkwardly around the room. “So….when you’re sick, do you like having someone with you? Or do you want to be by yourself?”

A sudden rush of emotion crashes over B. They’d so rarely had the choice. It takes all they’ve got not to throw themselves around A and beg them not to leave. “Stay, please,” they ask in a small, trembling voice. “If it’s not too much trouble.”

A smiles halfway and gently pats B’s leg. “Seeing as how I live here, I don’t think that’ll be a problem.” They take their spot at the end of the couch and pull B’s legs over their own, flicking the TV to a familiar movie. B tries to keep up with the plot, but they keep falling in and out of a fitful, restless sleep, tossing, turning, unable to get comfortable enough.

When B’s about ready to cry from exhaustion, A’s there, covering them up with another blanket, bringing them a glass of water, gently stroking the damp hair off their forehead before laying a cold cloth over it. They flinch at first, but the cool dampness eases the fire of their fever, even for just a moment. The last thing B remembers before falling unconscious is a gentle hand squeezing theirs.

It could be minutes or hours later when they jolt awake from a fever dream in a cold sweat, choking and coughing. They’ve kicked off their blankets and the cloth is nowhere to be found, but the chills are back in full force. A appears in B’s blurred vision, hand held to B’s forehead. “Poor thing. Your fever’s worse,” they murmur.

B’s still gasping for breath, curled up in the fetal position, body wracked by the shakes as they try force the words through their chattering teeth. “A...It's so cold. I’m so scared.”

If B was more lucid, they’d see something in A’s eyes crack wide open at their weak, fearful cries. A pulls the trusted grey blanket from the floor and wraps it back around B, rubbing their arms to try and make them feel warmer. There's something in the tenderness of the gesture, and B’s panicked gasps turn into soft, quiet sobs. They try and cover their face with one hand, but A’s hand is there, catching their wrist and wiping the tears away with their thumb.

“Hey. You’re gonna be okay. We just gotta get through tonight, alright?” A’s voice matches their usual cheery demeanor, but B can see the fear in their own eyes. They don’t know what they’re doing either.

“Why are you helping me?” B whispers in a tear-roughened voice.

A shrugs. "You're sick. You need help. Is it that so surprising?"

B's eyes flash a delirious spark. "You don't get it. I'm a broke scholarship student. I'm nothing like you. I'm not fun, or bubbly, or rich, or any of those things you are, and I don't fit in here. So why?"

B can't stop the words now, every single insecurity laid bare. "Why do you try to talk to me when I'm nothing but rude to you? Why'd you invite me here? Am I just a project to you? Why are you helping me? I'm not worth it!" The words spill out before B can stop them, and the raw hurt in A's eyes nearly rips B's heart out of their chest.

B claps their hand over their mouth, tears flooding their eyes. Now they've done it. They've laid it all out there. A's gonna kick them to the curb. And B won't blame them one bit.

But instead, A just looks at them, and pulls B into a hug. Their voice wavers only a bit as they whisper in B's ear: "You're not a project. You are completely worth being cared for. And you’re not the only one who knows what it feels like to not fit somewhere. Trust me.”

Alone. In a big, empty house. Studying on a Friday night. No plans of their own.

A, are you lonely, too?

Their words are so simple.

And yet they're everything B didn't know they needed to hear. A's got one arm around their shoulders, and one hand threaded through their sweaty, fever-damp hair, and they're cradling B so tightly it’s like they're the one who needs to be held.

B can't find the words to apologize or comfort them back. They're too tired for that. But they wrap their other arm around A and let their head rest on their shoulder. They stay like that for ages until their head begins to drop, and A shifts so they’re both laying down, B curled against A, A’s arm wrapped around their shoulders as they tuck a blanket around them both.

And finally, finally, B lets go. It's safe to fall, this time around. Because for the first time, there's someone there to catch them.

[emerald-chaos]

Touchdown

*gif not mine, credit goes to the owner*

I just want to take a moment to say thank you for the love on my last fic! It made my lil ole heart swell to see that peopled enjoyed it enough to leave a like or reblog.

This is just something special I had in my arsenal that I wrote for a friend a few months ago. I touched it up a bit and added a few things here and there. It all started when we were talking about how much we loved when Chris' accent got heavier after he'd been drinking, and well, I couldn't help myself lol. I hope you enjoy the fluff! xoxo

I apologize for any grammatical errors, I tried to proof-read but am also a little exhausted lol.

Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader

Word Count: 2844

Warnings: I don't think there's anyway? Mentions of being drunk/drinking alcohol, cursing, and illusions to sexy times, but that's about it.

You hadn’t noticed how furiously your knee was bouncing up and down until the person sitting next to you on the subway got up to move seats once the train squealed to a stop. You sighed and ran your hands down the front of your thighs. Normally being a little late didn’t bother you as much, but tonight you were meeting him.

You flipped your wrist over to check your watch. 8:30pm. In all honesty, it had probably been only thirty seconds later than when you checked it the last time. Another deep sigh escaped from your lips as you started to become hyper aware of the train remaining still at the current stop. What could possibly be taking so long? You knew he wouldn’t care if you were running late, but the time the two of you had together already felt so minuscule. You wanted to capitalize on every second you could.

The train began moving again and you slumped back into your seat, feeling only a small amount of relief. It was becoming painfully apparent that you needed to try and relax. You could feel the sweat building up on your body, the sting on your palms from where your fingernails were pressing in with a vengeance moments ago, and you could hear your heart thumping in your ears. Your hand dug around in your purse for a few moments before finding the small case you were looking for. Opening it, you slipped your headphones into your ears and let your head rest on the window behind you as music intertwined with your thoughts.

Once upon a time, you made fun of people who decided to go to grad school. What kind of a clown would spend thousands of MORE dollars and go BACK to school?? Not to mention the stress of the assignments, the due dates - it was not for you...or so you thought.

Now here you are, a regular booboo the fool.

NYU’s graduate program for design and merchandising wasn’t necessarily part of your 5-year plan, but when the opportunity landed in front of you it was difficult to pass up. NYU was a school you had only dreamt of attending back in high school. When you were a senior in high school you were able to tour the campus and fell in love immediately. Hours upon hours were spent researching grants, scholarships, and all sorts of ways to try to make it happen. However, the dream ended as most teenage dreams do - crushed. There was no way you or your parents could afford the loans that it would surely wrack up to attend the out of state university, and there was no way you could ask your parents take on that kind of debt just so you could go to college. UMass was the way to go - close to home and familiar. Not to mention you were able to obtain several scholarships and grants that helped bring down the cost tremendously. Little did you know, boring ole UMass would bring you one of the most important things in your life.

Applying for graduate school wasn’t an easy decision and one you couldn’t really take all the credit for. A smile crept across your face as you reminisced on the night you nervously brought up the idea to your long-term boyfriend.

“I think you should do it,”

“I know, right?” you scoffed, “it’s insane, why would I do something so stup...wait, what? You do?”

“Of course I do. This is something you love and that you’re passionate about. Do you know how many hours of my life were spent listening to you ramble about NYU?” he questioned with a grin.

“It will open up so many doors for you. We can make things work,” a chuckle escaped from those beautiful lips as he saw your dumbfounded expression. He wrapped his fingers around your waist and pulled you close, “What? Did you expect me to forbid it? Cmon, baby, what kind of guy do you take me for?”

You didn’t have a lot of wins in your life, but you did have Chris.

When you got accepted, he took off a week from work to drive you 3 and a half hours south to help get you settled and moved into your temporary new home. The two of you ate a disgusting amount of pizza, moved a ridiculous amount of heavy furniture in the middle of a summer heat wave, and enjoyed each other’s company before the long-distance thing would set in. Chris spent that week encouraging you every step of the way, talking you off the ledge when you were convinced you had made the wrong decision, and made sure to help you christen every possible surface of your new place in the most deliciously sinful way.

You bit your lip slightly at the thought and a warm feeling spread across your face. Chris was one of the most incredible people you had met in this world. Kind, caring, funny, intelligent, passionate, and god was he sexy. The connection the two of you had was scary at first, but now you just couldn’t imagine spending your life with anyone else.

The robotic voice came over the loud-speaker in the subway car and you were rudely ripped back to reality as it pulled into your stop. You hurriedly scooped up your bag and jogged off the train.

It had been a promise between the two of you when you moved that there would be equal effort when it came to visiting and keeping in contact while having good, open communication. Long distance was hard but the two of you were determined to make it work. FaceTime calls, hours upon hours of texting, and even as far as writing the occasional letter back and forth (because your boyfriend was a hopeless romantic and you loved it so much). This weekend was your turn to come home to visit, and of course your last class had to go longer than anticipated. Fuckin’ Tiffany and her stupid ass questions.

The muscles of your calves burned as you kept up your hurried pace, weaving through the crowds of people gathered on sidewalks outside of various clubs and restaurants. It was a weekend night and the Patriots were playing, which meant the city was more alive than usual. New York was it's own beast, but it was a different type of hustle and bustle. Nights like these made your heart ache for home - the thick Massachusetts accents, the rowdy voices of bar patrons arguing about the game, the hugs shared between family members as they parted after dinner, and the faint smell of nicotine and alcohol that hung in the air.

As the neon sign that hung in the pub window came in to view you felt your heart dip down into your stomach. Last weekend’s visit had to be cancelled due to some stuff coming up with Chris’ work and a surprise assignment for you, so you hadn’t seen your boyfriend in 2 weeks. With a deep breath you swung open the door and scanned the crowd for him. He told you that he would be there promptly at 7:15pm for pregame shenanigans with his friends - which actually translated to how many pitchers of beer could they suck down before kick off.

“Aw, come ON! That is such a bullshit call!”

You heard him before you saw him. Of course. A grin spread across your lips as you shook your head. The thought of leaving to avoid secondhand embarrassment crossed your mind briefly before you picked up your feet and made your way through the crowd toward the sound. A room full of people from New England and you would still recognize that voice anywhere.

Everyone else seemed to fade away as you saw the outline of the tall, dark haired man standing at the bar. The slight freckles that spattered the back of his neck, the Brady jersey that he spent WAY too much money customizing, and the signature backward ball cap were ingrained in your subconscious memory. Not to mention if you didn’t recognize his outline or his voice, you would definitely recognize that ass anywhere.

You loved how passionate he got about sports and the way his Boston accent seemed to get thicker with each beer he consumed. Growing up in the area, you wouldn't think the accent would send a tingle down your spine the way it does, but it was different - it was Chris. Not to mention the sparkle in his eye when he would watch his favorite team or the way he would get in to arguments whenever someone tried to say something negative about them. You loved your big, handsome, over-sized toddler man so damn much.

A light tap on his shoulder made him whip around, his slightly opened mouth from his interrupted conversation curved upwards into a wicked grin as he made the connection of who was finally standing in front of him.

“Hey there, handsome. I don’t see a ring on your finger. You single?” You grinned, feeling your entire body fill with warmth as Chris leaned back and grabbed his chest as he erupted in laughter.

“Nah, nah, nah, unfortunately for you I am taken” he responded as he snaked his arms around your waist, sliding his hands into your back pockets as he pulled you into his figure.

“That is too bad,” you tsk'd, running a finger down his toned bicep, “she’s one lucky girl.”

“I think I’m the lucky one,” he grinned. He leaned down to meet your lips in a kiss. You sighed into it, allowing your body to mold itself so perfectly into his. The taste of beer on his lips and the smell of his cologne was intoxicating - it was home. You immediately allowed him entrance as you felt his tongue glide along your bottom lip. Your body felt small in his strong grip and you couldn’t help but laugh a bit as he gave your ass a firm squeeze. Normally, this type of bold, public display of affection would make you cringe away but at this point you were lost in Chris that you had absolutely no shame. Each time the two of you embraced had always felt like the first. Your heart still fluttered and your knees still got weak, like you were a 16 year old being kissed for the first time.

In the middle of your reunion moment, however, something happened in the game that made the entire bar erupt in boo’s and curses. Chris lifted his lips from yours to look over his shoulder and inspect what he had missed. You laughed and shook your head as you pushed him back towards his friends and took a seat in the bar stool he had been standing behind initially. His large hands found a natural place on your shoulders. While his eyes remained glued on the TV he began applying a moderate amount of pressure to your neck and shoulders. You didn’t realize how much your body craved that touch, his touch, until you immediately melted back into him.

The bartender slid a beer in front of you with a wink and you mouthed your thanks. You felt a twinge in your heart as you looked around, taking in the atmosphere of the bar. This was a typical weekend night for the two of you whenever you were living together. Football, drinks, pub food, and friends. If it wasn’t this pub it was your living room, just a couple blocks away. You didn’t even mind that it was your first night back and you weren’t alone, spending it immediately wrapped up in your satin sheets. The atmosphere, the people - it was so warm and familiar that you really wouldn’t rather be doing anything else. Plus, being wrapped up together in the sheets was sure to follow.

“I missed you,” hummed a pair of lips as they placed a kiss on the shell of your ear. A shiver shot down your spine at the sensation of his warm breath fanning over your neck. You reached up a hand and connected it to the nape of his neck.

“I missed you too,” you replied, turning your head to plant a kiss on his stubbled cheek.

His arms changed position as he wrapped them in front of your shoulders and crossed them, resting his chin on the top of your head. Your hand absentmindedly rubbed his forearms as you nursed your beer and placed your focus onto the game for the first time tonight.

The laughter seemed to escape from your chest naturally and effortlessly the entire night, as it always had a habit of doing when Chris was around. The camaraderie between him and his buddies during a game was something you’d grown to enjoy over the years. Chris’ competitive nature and the way his jaw clenched when something wasn’t going the way he wanted was always kinda...hot. All of his friends were huge assholes, but in the best way. It was always entertaining to hear them jab at each other and do what they could to rile someone up. They were the life of every party you had ever attended and they had a way of making a boring night a lot more interesting.

Thankfully (for the integrity of the bar) the Pats won the game with a surprise touchdown in the last 30 seconds of the game. Chris, being the guy he is, bought a final round for his friends and a nearby group they had been going back and forth with all night. You couldn’t help but laugh as he drunkenly leaned across the counter and slurred his order to the bartender.

“I need a round for m’friends and for these assholes over here who thought Tom Brady was anything but a winner!” the group started yelling in protest and he simply waved them off and started sliding beers down the bar.

The group eventually moved to a bigger round top so everyone could shoot the shit and banter about the outcome of the game. You were tucked into Chris’ side, hands intertwined as he was passionately discussing the importance of Brady’s legacy with a stranger who made the mistake of stopping to talk to him. Your eyes followed the motion of your thumb as it traced small circles onto the back of his. Your other hand under your chin, holding up the weight of your head as your exhaustion started to catch up with you. Chris, although slightly drunk, picked up on your body language and raised your hand to his lips for a kiss.

“Alright, fellas,” he said as he stood up from his seat, pulling you up with him, “the lady and I are gonna call it a night. See you boys next weekend”.

“Chris, we don’t have to go,” you began to protest as he tucked his jacket around your shoulders.

“Mm, ‘course we do,” he replied with a soft smile, “you’re so tired, baby. I can see it in those beautiful eyes”.

You could feel your cheeks turn a light shade of pink as you rolled your eyes at his attempt at laying it on thick. After what felt like a proper 10 minute goodbye session, the group said their final goodbyes, hugs included, and you walked out of the pub hand in hand.

The walk home was filled with the sounds of cars passing by and conversation of what each other had missed in the week prior. Small talk typically felt like such a chore, but with Chris every conversation came naturally. Even when he had absolutely no idea what you were talking about, he would listen intently and ask all the questions as if it was the most interesting conversation in the world.

The lock on the apartment door clicked as you pushed it open and entered. You smiled as you stopped into the middle of the living room, taking in the home you missed so dearly. A soft tapping of toenails against the hardwood made your heart soar as you met the eyes of your sweet pup, Dodger. A squeal left your lips as you squatted down to give love to the sweet boy. Chris always made fun of you when you came home, saying that you always seemed to miss Dodger more than you did him and I mean, he wasn’t entirely wrong about that statement.

Once again lost in your own world, you didn’t even notice Chris leaned up against the wall watching you with a smile.

“Oh my god,” you gushed, standing up, “do you like...like me or something?”

Chris grinned as he crossed the room and caught your belt loop with his finger, pulling you into him slowly.

“Yeah,” his voice had dropped down an octave, “you could say that”.

“Mm,” your tongue swiped across your lower lip and you wrapped your arms around his neck, “care to show me how much?”

The look in his eyes made your core burn. The tension building between you two became too much to handle as you crashed your lips into his. The kisses were messy and you could feel the sense of urgency between you two. His beard scratched against the column of your throat with a delicious burn as he left wet kisses across your jaw and down the side of your neck. Chris’ hands found their way back into the ass pockets of your jeans as he started walking you back towards the direction of the bedroom.

Soon, there was a trail of clothes leading to your bedroom and you felt very sorry for your neighbors. It had been a long time, but Chris always had a way of welcoming you home.

[atlafan]

And They Were Roommates - One Shot

a/n: I’ve had this idea for a long time, and I’m glad it’s finally come together. I love friends to lovers fics, they make my stomach twist in the best possible way, so I hope you all enjoy these two! Feedback and reblogs are always helpful. (not proofread)

Warnings: two idiots refusing to just get together until they do, SMUT, mentions of Only Fans (which I truthfully know nothing about, but I wanted to make things saucy)

Words: 11.3K

“We just need to be quiet in case my roommate’s home.” You say to your date, Jeremy, as you key into your flat. He nods with a grin as you enter.

“Hey, lovie, how was the-“ Harry smirks when he sees you come in with your date. “I see it went well, never mind.”

You roll your eyes at him. He was sitting on the couch in some sweat pants, and that was it, watching some romantic comedy.

“Harry, this is Jeremy, Jeremy this is my roommate Harry.”

“I’m her best friend too, but I can see she clearly hasn’t brought me up all night. M’a little offended, pet.”

“Okay, well, I’ll try to be more courteous.” You shake your head at him, and tug Jeremy along to your bedroom. “Sorry about him. He usually goes out on Friday nights, but lately he’s been staying in more.”

“You…you live with that guy?”

“Sure.” You shrug and then wrap your arms around his neck. “We’ve been friends for years, and we’re in the same grad program, so it just made sense to split a flat.”

“Listen…uh, I was excited that you invited me up, but I can’t fuck you with that guy sitting out there.”

“What?” You frown and step back. “Why not?”

“Because I’ll just think you’re thinking of him the whole time. He’s…like…perfect! I can’t compete with that.”

“Jeremy, you’re being silly, just clear your head, we can-“

“Sorry, Y/N.”

Jeremy opens your door and leaves you standing in your room. You were in shock. Jeremy walks quickly back out into the main area, and sees Harry still sitting and watching his movie.

“Oi, that was quick, mate. Hope you left my girl satisfied.” Harry grins at a disgruntled Jeremy, and he leaves.

“You know it’s comments like that…” You sniffle as you stand there in your pretty dress and heels. “That make guys just up and leave.”

“What are you talking about?”

“He took one look at you sitting there like that and ran off!”

“So, I can’t even sit in the comfort of my own living room without some douche feeling emasculated? Are you sure you want someone like that fucking you, Y/N?”

“I just wanted to hook up! Christ, now I have to go take care of it myself.” You groan.

“Well, when you’re done, come join me. We can watch My Best Friend’s Wedding.” He leans forward and smiles. “You look really nice tonight, I’m sorry he was an idiot.”

“Thanks.” You wipe your finger under your nose. “Would you make some popcorn or something?”

“On it.”

Alright, some explanation is probably needed here. See, you and Harry met your sophomore year of uni, no, not drunk at some party, in class, actually. You both were education majors, so you ended up having a lot of classes together once you really dove into your major courses. You got paired up on a project together, and there was no separation between the two of you after that.

Normally, Harry wouldn’t have been the type of guy you’d be friends with. To be honest, he dressed like a douchebag when you first met him. You wondered why he’d want to be a teacher. He had floppy curls, wore a snapback with every outfit, and you didn’t think he owned a pair of jeans that didn’t have any rips in them. Although, you did enjoy his Chelsea boots, his sweaters, and his nail polish and rings.

You were innocent, and sort of preppy while he was loud mouthed and scruffy. Your friend groups never merged, but your best friend knew about your friendship with Harry. She’d constantly poke fun and say you had a crush on him. You didn’t. Harry was hot as fuck, anyone with eyes could see that, but you weren’t into him in that way. That was one of the reasons he liked hanging out with you so much. Most girls that tried to be his friend were just trying to fuck, and that could be fun, but sometimes he genuinely wanted to meet up for coffee and have a conversation without it leading to screwing on an extra-long twin bed.

Harry’s friends knew you well. As the years went on, you’d often be the one he’d bring back to his place drunk. You started off by sleeping on the floor, and then one night you realized you both adults and could sleep in the same bed. His friends would give him an equally tough time about you. Sometimes you’d come over and wait in his room for him while he was out with another girl. To some that may have been weird, but nothing was better than drunk platonic cuddles.

There was one night, your senior year, you had woken up with him spooning you. In all the nights spent together, you two never fell asleep or woke up like that. You didn’t shift when you felt his morning wood poking you. His arm was draped loosely over you. You almost wanted to see if he’d make a move, so you pretended to stay asleep a little longer. His hand had slid to your hip and squeezed it, but that was the extent of the interaction. He rolled onto his back, and you did the same. You looked up at him and started giggling.

“It’s not funny.” He groaned, putting his forearm over his eyes.

“Didn’t know I did it for you, Har.” You poked the dimple forming on his face as he smiled.

“Don’t flatter yourself, sweetheart, happens to every guy in the morning.” He peered down at you and you rolled your eyes.

You had never spoken about it afterwards. You didn’t want to embarrass him. When you both talked about grad school, and got into the same university, he asked you to be his flat-mate.

“You don’t wanna live with Niall and Louis anymore?”

“They’re getting real jobs, they won’t wanna listen to me complain about school. I’ve found a great two bedroom place. I think it could be fun for us. Dontcha wanna live with me, baby?” He pouted at you and you nudged his shoulder and laughed.

“Christ, I hate it when you start getting all beggy. Alright, we can live together.”

He took you in his arms and hugged you. You were both extremely excited. Sometimes it seemed like you and Harry knew everything about each other, but that was not the case. After you moved in and got settled, it was time you revealed something to him. You called him into your bedroom to talk.

“Is everything okay? You’re not having doubts, are you?”

“No! Not at all, I’m glad we’re doing this. I feel safe with you here, and I’m glad we still have classes together. I…I just need to tell you something. Um, I don’t know what you do to...like, when you’re alone, I don’t know what you use, but I know things can pop up geographically, so I just wanted to warn you.” You bit your bottom lip, and turned your laptop around to show him your Only Fans page. His eyes widened, and then he shook his head.

“This is a joke, right? You made a fake website.”

“It’s not fake…” You muttered. “I don’t do lives, I don’t get naked, and I don’t show my face.”

“Then what do you do?”

“I was a dance minor, as you may recall.” He nodded yes at you. “So I make little strip tease videos and blur my face. Sometimes I take lingerie photos too. It’s a wonder what people will pay for.”

“How’d you get into this?” There was no judgement in his voice, he was genuinely curious.

“It started as a joke between Jenna and I, but then we started making money, and it’s enough that I can pay all my bills and live comfortably. I’ve already paid off one of my student loans thanks to this. I don’t even know if you use Only Fans, but I knew you’d probably recognize me or something if you stumbled across it so…I just wanted to warn you.”

“You know…the coffee shop I work at is hiring if you don’t feel like doing this kind of stuff.” He smirked.

“I actually don’t mind it. I essentially work for myself.”

“So you don’t sit in front of your camera and get yourself off with little bunny ears on?”

“No.” You laughed. “Just videos of me dancing in some intricate lighting, and saucy photos.”

“Can I see?”

“What?!”

“Not one of the videos, show me some pictures.”

“Harry…”

“Come on. I’ve seen you dressed to the nines before, but I’m having trouble believing you would take any provocative photos.”

“Fine.” You clicked through the various photos, and find a mostly decent one. “Here, you can look at this one.”

His eyes widen again as he scans it over. You could only see your face from the lips down. You had a lollypop pressed to them, and some of the juice from it was dripping down your chin. You were laying on your bed in a pink lace bodysuit, and if he squinted he could probably see your nipples, but he chose against it. Your legs were up against the headboard, crossed at the ankle.

“Well?” You asked.

“It’s, uh, it’s very tasteful.” He cleared his throat. “Thanks for telling me…I…I  mean I definitely look at porn sometimes, so…uh…definitely wouldn’t have wanted to accidentally wanked it to you.”

“I doubt you would have even stayed on my page for long. You probably like to watch the really freaky shit.” You grinned and closed your laptop.

“I don’t know, there’s something sort of sexy about someone looking so innocent.”

“And that’s exactly what my viewers seem to say in the comments.”

Harry never brought up your page after that. You didn’t make him promise not to go searching for it, you just figured he wouldn’t. With all that aside, your living situation was working out perfectly. Sometimes Harry would bring home the day old muffins or bagels from the coffee shop, and you both had all the free coffee you could drink.

When you first moved in he was like his old self. He went out on dates almost every weekend. Normally he wouldn’t bring someone back, but once in a while he would. You never minded, you’d bring people back too, but you started to notice a pattern. Most guys either would have a tough time fucking you if he was home, or would end up leaving the way Jeremy did. You weren’t sure why they felt so threatened by Harry.

You supposed Jeremy could have been taken aback by seeing Harry shirtless. He was muscular, but not quite skinny. Buff in a way. He could hurt someone if he really wanted to. Once you’ve changed into some comfy pj’s, you plop down on the couch with Harry, and dive into the bowl of popcorn he made so you could watch your movie.

“So, I take it you’re not gonna take care of things yourself?”

“I’m too annoyed now.” You sigh. “It’s fine. I’ll try my luck with some random when we go out tomorrow night.”

“Good idea.” He throws his arm around you, and you both settle as the opening credits start.

//

Harry had to be up early for his shift at the coffee shop. After getting some schoolwork done, you took the opportunity to get some other work done. You had to be dressed for the club tonight anyways, so you got dolled up, and took some new photos for your page. You always got comments about your lips, so you’d use blow-pops to kiss against, or to rub against. You got some really great shots in, and got dressed in your regular clothes before Harry got home.

“Got your evening makeup on already? It’ll be hours before we leave, love.” He says as he runs a hand through his hair.

“You’re not the only one that worked today.” You wink at him and he rolls his eyes.

“You know, if I didn’t have all my tattoos I could be doing the same thing you’re doing.”

“Plenty of people with tattoos have pages.”

“The last thing I need is to start working at some school, and have a parent recognize me for the wrong reasons.”

“True.” You nod and go into the fridge. “I’m gonna make some stirfry, are you hungry?”

“I could eat.” He shrugs. “I’m gonna go shower.”

“Alright.”

You didn’t necessarily mind that you’re dating life was a little tricky. You had all the domesticity you could need with Harry, however, you were certainly hoping to meet someone tonight at the club. You just wanted to have a meaningless hookup.

After dinner, and having a couple of drinks at home, you and Harry meet up with Niall and Louis at the club. Louis and Harry were laughing over something, so you decide to pay Niall a little attention. You always thought he was cute and funny. He was always nice to you too, as was Louis.

“How are things with your classes?” He asks. “Sort of wish I was doing the grad school thing.”

“Oh, but your job is so cool! Data analysis is riveting.” You giggle against the rim of your drink and he shakes his head. “Classes are good. I’m more so just excited to start teaching, but I have a while for that yet. Practicum last year was such a tease.”

“I bet you’d be a fun teacher, you’d certainly have no problem keeping my attention.” He slings one of his arms around the back of the booth you were sitting in and he inches closer. You smile at him and take a sip of your drink.

“Yeah? Why’s that?” You put your hand on his shoulder and twirl the material of his shirt around your finger.

“Your voice for one thing. It’s smooth, soothing. Your smile is sweet, so that helps too.”

You blush a little from his compliments, and finish your drink.

“Need another, babe?” Harry asks, breaking you and Niall from your little chat.

“I can get it.” Niall says. “Vodka tonic?”

“Please.” You smile and watch him go up to the bar. Louis and Harry look at you. “What?”

“Are you trying to fuck Niall?” Louis asks.

“Of course she’s no-“ Harry says, but he’s cut off by you.

“So what if I am?” She scoffs. “It’s safer than trying to get some guy I don’t know, right?”

“If that’s the case, why not just fuck Harry?” Louis smirks.

Harry death glares Louis as your face scrunches.

“It’s a little cliché, isn’t it?” You say. “Fucking your roommate and best friend? I’ll pass. That’s a load of drama we don’t need.”

“So, what you’re saying is, if Harry wasn’t your roommate or your best friend, you’d fuck him?”

“Hmm…” You tap your chin playfully and look Harry up and down. Before you can answer, Niall returns with your drink, and another round for the guys. “Thank you.” You say to him, and he sits down closely next to you.

“You wouldn’t wanna dance, would you?” Niall asks you.

“I’d love to!”

You both get up and make your way over to the dancefloor. Harry sulks while he plays with the straw in his drink.

“What are you all mopey for, huh?” Louis asks him.

“I don’t really like the idea of them hooking up. Could change the dynamic of things for all of us.”

“Instead of worrying about that, why don’t we try to go meet some ladies of our own, hm?” Louis smiles at Harry, and Harry nods in agreement.

You were having a lot of fun dancing with Niall, and his laugh was infectious tonight. You told him you needed to use the ladies room, and when you came back he was acting like a completely different person.

“Did I do something wrong?” You ask him over the blaring music.

“No! I just…” He looks over at Harry and Louis and then back to you. “We really shouldn’t be messing around like this.”

“We were just dancing.”

“But it was going to lead to something more, no?”

“Did you want it to?”

“Well, yeah, but you’re my friend, and…I wouldn’t want to make anything weird between us.”

“So…you don’t wanna go into the single stall bathroom and have me suck you off?” You bat your lashes at him and his eyes widen.

“Shit.” He says under his breath. “Are you serious?”

“Yes.”

“Alright.”

He wraps his hand around your wrist, and leads you through the crowd of people. You both go into the bathroom without a single thought and lock the door. You could hear the music faintly as you looked at each other.

“You seemed pretty sure of things before.” You say to him.

“I…I wigged out for a second. I really want this.”

You smile and step forward, pressing your lips to his. His hands go to your hips, and he squeezes you. He tasted like the tequila he had been drinking, and you smile against him. You kiss across his jaw, and to his neck while your hands work to undo his belt.

“You’re okay with this?” You ask him.

“Yeah, go for it. Would it be easier if I sat up on the counter?”

“No, I don’t mind getting on my knees, thanks.” You smirk at him and sink down, tugging his pants and boxers down just enough for his hard dick to spring out. You look up at him, impressed.

“Don’t look so surprised.”

“Sorry.” You chuckle. “Good for you, though, honestly.”

You kiss his tip and he jerks slightly towards you. You wrap your lips around him, and suck on him. His hands move your hair back, and you close your eyes as you work him over. You pump what you can’t fit, or what you don’t feel like fitting, and you hear him panting. This is all you wanted, you just wanted to make someone feel good.

“Y/N, I’m gonna come.” He warns you, and you give his thigh a squeeze to let him know it’s okay.

He comes into your mouth, and you swallow it to not make a mess. He helps you stand up, and then you help him zip his pants. After rinsing your mouth out he grabs you and kisses you. Your eyes flutter closed as he sucks on your bottom lip.

“Would you finger me?” You ask him just above a whisper against your lips.

“I’ll do anything you want.”

//

Louis was off making out with some girl while Harry was at the bar, brooding. You and Niall come back from the bathroom with flushed cheeks. Harry looks at you, and then looks at Niall. Niall just rubs the back of his neck and looks away.

“Y/N, are you ready to go home?” Harry asks her.

“Um…I was hoping to have another drink, but if you wanna leave we can.”

“I’d like to, yeah.”

You both say goodnight to Niall, and head out. He doesn’t say anything to in the back of the cab, and he’s quiet as you both go inside your flat. He fills two glasses of water and hands one to you.

“What’s wrong?” You ask him.

“Why’d you have to fuck my friend? Of all the guys in there, it had to be Niall?”

“I’m going to bed, I’m not having this conversation with you.” You start to walk away from him.

“So if I took Rachel into the bathroom at club and fucked her, you’d be fine with it?”

“Rachel’s a lesbian, so that’s a moot point.”

“You know what I’m trying to say.”

“I wouldn’t care, Harry. Also, you make it seem like Niall isn’t my friend, when he is. And not that it’s any of your business, but we didn’t do more than diddle each other. I sucked him off, and then I let him finger me, that was it.”

“You know, if you just needed to get off, I’m sure your own hand would have sufficed.” He huffs.

“Sometimes you just wanna feel someone else’s hand.” You say quietly.

“So Niall’s a good enough friend to diddle you, but I’m not? I’m extremely offended.”

“Harry…I don’t have to see Niall every day. It would get weird between us, and you know it.”

“I’m just saying, if you needed some help-“

“Don’t finish that sentence. You’re drunk, you don’t know what you’re talking about. Go put yourself to bed, I’m gonna go wash up.”

“I’m assuming no cuddles tonight then?”

“You’ve assumed correctly, goodnight.”

Harry emerges from his room around ten the next morning, thankful he had the day off from work. You were sitting on the couch in the living room, coffee cup in hand while reading one of your textbooks. He sees you’ve made coffee, and he pours himself a cup.

“Morning.” He yawns as he sits next to you.

“Morning.” You say without looking at him.

“Are you mad at me for some reason? Usually you come to my room after we’ve been out like that, and you didn’t…”

“Harry, do you seriously not remember what happened last night?” He shakes his head no at you. “It just wasn’t a good night for drunk cuddles, okay? Can we leave it at that?”

“Alright.” He shrugs and takes a sip of his coffee. “Do you feel like going to the campus library with me in a bit? I’ve got a paper to work on, and a change of scenery would do be some good.”

“Sure! I have some mock lesson plans I need to work on so that sounds good.”

He watches you get up and go into your room so you can get ready. He sighs to himself, feeling bad for lying to you. He takes his phone out to text Niall.

Harry: I’m sorry about last night…I know I can’t control what you do and who you do it with, and clearly what I said to you didn’t matter anyways

Niall: I was going to listen…but she really wanted it, mate, I’m sorry. It wasn’t anything serious, just two friends helping each other out, alright?

Harry: alright

Niall: are you sure you don’t have feelings for her?

Harry: I just don’t think it’s smart for our little circle to comingle like that, that’s all

Niall: whatever you say

“Harry, go get dressed, the sooner we go, the sooner we can come back and watch a movie.”

“Right.” He says with a smile and gets up.

//

Harry fucked up one night. He didn’t feel like trolling on Tinder for a lay, so he found himself on Only Fans. There were a couple of pages he was subscribed to, but they just weren’t doing it for him tonight. He wanted something a little different, so, against his better judgement…he went to your page. Sometimes he’d check it out just to make sure no one was leaving you any sick comments, he never really went there to ogle you. But because you didn’t use your face, he could use his imagination a little bit. He puts his headphones in, and clicks on one of your free videos.

He smiles when he hears one of your favorite songs playing in the background. You were a skilled video editor, hoping to teach that media arts. The video fades in, and there you are, completely clothed. You start dancing, it wasn’t over sexy, but you had a way about taking your clothes off. You were doing a chair dance, one of your specialties. The video ends with you just about to take your shirt off, and then it fades out with a smirk on your lips.

“Oh, she’s good.” He says to himself.

Leaving people wanting more was certainly key on this site. He sighs, and clicks through a couple of the other free things you had on your page, and then eventually he pays to subscribe. You’d never know it was him, it’s not like he used his real name. He was more curious than anything to see what else you could have on there. He clicks through some of your photos. His jaw drops when he sees you licking a lollypop.

There’s a knock on his door, and he nearly throws his laptop across the room. He exits out of his all his tabs and closes his laptop.

“Come in!”

“Hey.” You say, leaning against the door frame.

“What’s up?” He was sweating. Had you seen that you had a new subscriber? Had you somehow figured out it was him?

“I have cramps, can I come lay with you?”

“Oh.” He sighs with relief. “Sure.” He makes some room for you on his bed, and climb on, laying on your stomach.

“What were you up to?”

“Looking for some porn to watch, to be honest with you.” He chuckles as he rubs at your lower back.

“Oh, Christ.” You laugh and nudge his leg. “You didn’t need to let me in.”

“It’s alright, you’re more interesting anyways. How was your day? Feel like I barely saw you?”

“It was good. I had a lot of work to get done so I was at the library, and then I met up with Rach for dinner.”

“How’s she?”

“Good. She’s finally starting to make some friends at work.” You sit up and move to sit on your bum. “I have a cheeky idea. Let’s find a really bad porn to watch.”

“Together?”

“Yeah! We could find a cheesy one from the seventies or something, stuff our faces with ice cream and have a good laugh.”

“I’ll go get the ice cream, you find one to watch.” He slides his laptop over to you, and gets up.

You knew his password, so you enter it in. You open up his browser, and go on incognito mode. He comes back shortly with a gallon of ice cream and two spoons.

“Okay, I think I’ve found one. Major bush on this woman, and the guy.”

“Incredible.” He laughs and hands you a spoon. “Let’s see how they did it back then. Who knows, I may learn something new.”

“God, porn back then was only made for men.” You scoff, and take a bite of the ice cream. “I mean, these women just lay there and take it! What’s the fun in that?”

“I know, I like it when the girl’s a little more involved instead of just starfishing.”

“I’m all for a guy being on top, but you really shouldn’t just lay there. There’s still plenty a girl can do. Although, I have to say, when I’m not super into it, I just lay there until the guy comes.”

“Why not just speak up and tell him to do something else?”

“At that point there’s no coming back. Besides, you know how fragile the male ego is.” You smirk at him.

“True…although, I think it’s really hot when a girl is vocal in the bedroom. If she’s telling me how she likes it then I know she knows her body, and that image alone is so satisfying.” He takes a slow bite of the ice cream to watch your face.

“It doesn’t get frustrating?”

“Not for me.” He shrugs. “I mean, I’m usually able to figure it out without much help, but I always make sure to ask if it feels good.”

“What a gentleman.” You poke his cheek and he swats it away. “I like it when a guy is vocal too, like, isn’t afraid to moan, that kind of stuff.”

“I never understood why guys are so afraid to moan. If it feels good, let it out.”

“Exactly!”

You both completely forgot you had an old porn on in the background until you heard an extremely fake moan rip through the speaker. You both laugh hysterically.

“This must’ve been before boobs jobs got popular, those are as natural as they get.” Harry laughs.

“Jesus, I know, look at those things bounce!” You laugh, and then look down at yourself, frowning.

“What?”

“Well….I have, like, bowling ball tits, like when you go candle pin bowling, is it attractive to watch big, heavy boobs like that?” You point to the screen. “And mine are kinda saggy, and-“

“Please, stop talking about yourself like that. Don’t you have, like, thousands of subscribers on your Only Fans? People clearly like the way you look.”

“They’ve never seen me naked.”

“Still.” He looks down at your covered chest. You were wearing a sweatshirt. “You…not to sound creepy, but you’ve got a great set on you. I’ve always thought so.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, I just never said anything because I didn’t want you knowing I was checking you out.” He smirks and throw one of his pillows at him. “It’s hard not to with some of the shirts or dresses you wear to the clubs sometimes. You really know how to make yourself look sexy.”

“Oh, and I’m not sexy right now?” You chuckle.

“No, you are, it’s just a different kind of sexy. Like, you more cute than anything else, but still totally fuckable.”

“Gee, thanks.” You roll your eyes and take another bite of ice cream. “Mm, we picked a really good flavor this week.”

“I know, way better than last week.”

“I’ve been having fun trying new flavors with you. Gives me something fun to look forward to. Is this twenty-two? Getting excited over ice cream flavors?”

“Pretty soon we’ll be excited over buying a new vacuum, or a dishrack.”

“Oh, I love a good dishrack.”

Harry bursts out laughing, and so do you. You ended up falling asleep with him in his bed, your head cradled to his chest. Harry was always the perfect cure to cramps.

//

“Oh…hello.” A girl says to you some random Wednesday morning. You were stood in your kitchen making some toast before class.

“Um, hi?”

“Oh, god, he has a girlfriend doesn’t he.” She whines.

“No! I’m Harry’s roommate. Did you spend the night, would you like some coffee?”

“Got scared for a second there. No, I’m all set thank you. Um, have a good one!” She says and leaves the flat.

“Is…is she gone?” Harry whispers from around the corner and you chuckle.

“Yes, Harry.”

“Thank god.” He sighs.

“Since when do you bring someone home with you on a Tuesday night?”

“I was working late at the coffee shop, and she was there doing homework, and one thing lead to another.” He pours himself a cup of coffee.

“And it was no good?”

“Terrible, I didn’t even ask for her number.”

“What made it so terrible?”

“She just…she wasn’t…doing it for me, I don’t know. There was no connection, Y/N.” He sighs.

“Maybe it’s time you start actually dating and work your way up to fucking someone.”

“That would involve me having to get to know someone, and I can’t stand people.” He pouts.

“Good thing you’re going to be a fucking teacher then.” You laugh. “Hurry up and get ready, or we’ll be late for class.”

Harry gets ready, and you both walk to campus for your K-12 instructors class. You were thankful to have class with Harry, you weren’t sure what you’d do without him. Just having someone to make eye contact with when someone said something stupid, or if the professor did something cringey.

“Hey, Y/N?”

“Hey, Daniel.” You smile up at him. “What’s up?”

“Well, I…I was wondering if you had plans this weekend? On Saturday?”

You look at Harry and he shakes his head no.

“Not that I can think of, no.”

“Great, uh, would you like to go to the movies? We could grab dinner as well.”

“I…I’d like that a lot, um, here.” You take your phone out to hand it to him. He puts his number and texts himself.

“Cool, I’ll text you later.” He moves to go sit down a few rows behind you. You look at Harry with a grin on your face.

“See, dating, it’s sorta fun.” You say to him.

“Wining and dining someone sure is a lot of effort. Don’t think I quite have it in me, but you have yourself a good time, pet.”

//

You have a wonderful time with Daniel on Saturday night. He took you to Panera, and then to see a comedy. He let you pick the movie, and you were delighted. You shared a lot of laughs, and made out with him in his car before he took you home.

“I ha d a lot of fun.” You tell him.

“Me too.” He says. “Maybe we could do this again sometime?”

“I’d like that.” You smile and get out of his car. When you get up to your flat, you can’t wait to dish with Harry about how your night went.

“Hola chica.” He says to you from the kitchen.

“Late night tacvos, my favorite. Save me any?”

“Course, grab what you like. How was your date?”

“Really good. Daniel’s super sweet.”

“Not sweet enough to bring home?”

“I’m taking my own advice and giving dating a try. He asked me if I wanted to go out again sometime and I said yes. We did kiss for a bit, it was nice.” You shove a taco into your mouth. “Mm, you make the best tacos, Har.”

“Don’t I know it? So…so you kissed, but nothing else?” He mutters as he finishes his food.

“Nope.”

“Did you want to?”

“I don’t know.” You shrug.

“Then you shouldn’t go out with him again.”

“What are you talking about?”

“If you didn’t wanna rip his clothes off, it’s probably not gonna last.”

“Lust doesn’t make a relationship.”

“No, but it should be passionate. Even if you’re respectful and wait, you should still wanna fuck the person.”

“Sometimes you have to work up to feeling that way.”

“Nah, when you know, you know.” He winks at you and goes over to the couch. “I was about to watch-“

“Oh my god!” You screech.

“What?!”

“Did you not check the mail earlier?! Kevin and Ashley are getting married! This is their save the date. Holy fucking shit.”

“Makes sense, they’ve been together forever.”

“Well, we have to go, Harry.”

“Okay.” He hears you suck your teeth. “What?”

“No plus ones…”

“So? We’d just go together anyways. We can save money on a hotel room too.”

“That’s true. I just…wow, I couldn’t imagine getting married right now.”

“Like I said, when you know, you know.” He plops down onto the couch and turns the TV on. You sit down next to him. You look at him for a moment, and then turn your attention to the TV. Nothing else really needed to be said.

//

You hated it when Harry was right. Daniel was nice, but there was no spark. You went on four dates with him, and you didn’t want to fuck him.

“Hey, I was looking on the hotel website for the wedding, the room with the king sized bed is actually cheaper than the one with the two queens. That work for you?” He asks you as he comes into your room holding his laptop.

“Yeah, that’s fine. Just tell me how much I need to Venmo you.”

“Will do, it’s not terribly expensive. I’ll only need a hundred bucks from you.”

“Perfect.” You take your phone and send him the money. “Thanks for booking it.”

“No problemo.” He comes in and sits on your bed. “What are you up to, babydoll?”

“Just putting some mock lesson plans together.” You sigh. “Could definitely use a break, though.” He lays down on your bed and pats the spot next to him. You roll your eyes at him, and he pouts. “Ugh, fine.” You get onto your bed with him. “Happy now?”

“Very…although….”

“What?”

“Well, you get to lay your head on my chest all the time. I’d like to do the same. Or…okay, there’s this trend on Tik Tok…could I lay down between your legs?”

“Um…like…with your head in my crotch?” You laugh. “I can put a pillow there and you can lay down if you like.”

“Okay.” You grab a pillow for him, and he gets on his back, resting his head, and looking up at you. You run your fingers through his curls and his eyes flutter closed. “I love it when you play with my hair.” He sighs.

“I knew you were coming in here with a motive. Booking the hotel room to get something out of it, huh?”

“Your nails just feel so good, and you know it.”

“Well, you better return the favor. I like getting my hair played with too.”

“I’ll touch you wherever you want me to, alright?” He yawns. “Just don’t stop for a bit.”

You brush off his crude comment, and does as he says. You liked playing with Harry’s hair, so it wasn’t a burden, and you liked when you two would just get cozy together like this. There weren’t many people you felt this comfortable with.

//

“Y/N, we need to get going down to the ceremony.” Harry calls from the bedroom of the hotel.

“Well, I wouldn’t be running behind if someone hadn’t taken twice as long as they said they would in the bathroom!”

“Can’t rush perfection, darling.” He smirks to himself.

“Mhm, so what does that make me?” You ask as you walk out of the bathroom. His mouth nearly falls open.

You had gotten your hair into a loose, low bun, with plenty of hair in the front to frame your face. You had a strapless purple dress on with black tights and black heels.

“Um…stunning, you look stunning.”

“Thanks.” You smile and grab your clutch. “You don’t look too bad yourself.” You wink at him and head out.

You both were blubbering messes during the ceremony. Rachel made sure to make fun you both for it. Once the cocktail hour hit, you were good to go. You found your table and sat down. You talked with some other friends and explained how grad school was going. You make it through the speeches and dinner, and then it’s time to dance.

Being at something like this reminded you of being at an old uni party, only more upscale. Ashley and Kevin’s families were around, so the music wasn’t exactly what you’d normally get down to, but there was an open bar that you were able to take advantage of. Partying with Harry was one of your favorite things. He always used to bring you to the best ones. A slow song starts to play, and you giggle as he bows and extends his hand to you.

“You’re an idiot.” You say as you take his hand and he pulls you close to him.

“Ah, but you’re still choosing to dance with me, babe.”

“Only cause I’m too lazy to find someone else.”

“Ha! That’ll be us someday reading vows at our won wedding. I was too lazy to find someone else, so I settled for my best friend.” He smirks at you and swat his shoulder.

“Would you be quiet? Enough of the people here think something’s going on between us as it is.”

“True.” He looks around at a few people’s wandering eyes. “Should we give them a bit of a show?” He slides his hands further down your back, getting dangerously close to your bum.

“Harry!” You squeal and giggle. “Stop it.” You grab his hands put them to their previous spot. “Just dance with me, would you?”

He chuckles and sways around with you. You both got pretty plastered. You couldn’t stop giggling with him all the way up to your room. You sigh once you get your heels off.

“Okay, I’m using the bathroom first.” You say to him.

“Fine.” He sighs and starts unbuttoning his dress shirt.

You head into the bathroom, and use the toilet. You get your tights all the way off and groan when you can’t reach the zipper on the back of your dress.

“Ugh, Harry!” You call for him. “I need your help!”

“Yeah?” He says, stepping into the bathroom in only his boxers. Nothing you hadn’t seen before.

“My zipper.”

“Oh.” He places a hand on your shoulder, and the other grips the zipper, slowly dragging it down. You clutch the front of it. “You’re not…uh…no bra?”

“No, there’s one built into the dress.” You turn around to face him. “I just need to grab my pj’s and then I’ll need a couple minutes to take my hair out.” You brush by him to go into your suitcase. He takes the opportunity to use the toilet and brush his teeth.

“Need help with anything else?” He asks as you step back into the bathroom.

“Nope, think I can handle the rest, thanks.” You giggle. “Wouldn’t mind some head scratches once I get into bed though.”

Harry gets into bed and waits for you. You come out with your hair a mess, your makeup smeared from rinsing it, and he furrows his brows at you.

“That’s my shirt.” He says as you knee onto the bed.

“Mhm, well, that’s what happens when you ask me to do your laundry for you. I steal your shirts as compensation.”

“Fair enough I suppose. Come here.”

You smile and lay on his chest so he can run his fingers through your hair. You moan softly from it as you relax into him.

“Feels so nice.” You mumble into his chest.

“I can tell.” One of his hands moves to rub your back. He mimics your moaning and you punch him in the arm. “Oi! I won’t love on you if you do that.”

“M’not asking you to love on me, I just wanted me head scratched. Be grateful you get to hear me make those noises, not everyone does.”

“Bet you’d make thousands if you posted something like that on your Only Fans.” He mutters and you move to look at him. “What?”

“Do you…ever look at my page?”

“Sometimes.”

“Why?”

“Sometimes I check your comments to see if anyone’s being rude.”

“Oh…” You swallow. “I make enough doing what I’m doing. I…I’d be too shy to do the really explicate stuff. I also just feel, like, I don’t want just anyone to see me naked, you know? That’s why I don’t go live, everyone would just ask me to take my clothes off.”

“I get that. Wanna keep it private for someone special.”

“Exactly. I mean, I’ve talked about this with you before, but there are plenty of people that are into what I post.”

“You certainly leave them wanting more.”

“You’ve…watched?”

“I’ve checked out some of the free videos you’ve posted, yeah.” He admits shamelessly. “You’re a very good dancer.” He smiles at you.

“I’m going to sleep.” You yawn and turn over. “Goodnight.” You look over your shoulder at him. “If you behave you can spoon me if you want.”

“What do you think I’m gonna do? Slide my prick between your ass cheeks? Grow up.” He says as he wraps his arm around you. You can’t help but laugh. “However, if I get hard while I’m sleeping you can’t get mad.”

“Suppose it’s not my fault I have such a fat, juicy ass, hm?”

“Go to sleep.” He laughs, and presses his chest to your back.

“Mm, you’re so cozy, Harry.”

“I know I am. Go to sleep, lovie.” He coos, and rubs at your side.

“Love you.”

“Love you too.” He sighs and nestles into the back of your head.

//

“So…you let him spoon you all night, and nothing happened?” Rachel whispers to you at breakfast the next morning.

“Happens more often than not, it’s not a big deal.”

“You two are so fucking weird! I’ve literally never met two people who were close that do what you do. Why not just make the jump? Neither one of you can manage to make another relationship work.”

“I don’t know…I…I just don’t see him like that, and I know Harry. If he really liked me like that he’d go for it.”

“Maybe he’s just scared to fuck it up with you.”

“Exactly, so, let’s just not fuck it up and try anything.”

“What are you two hens clucking about, hm?” Harry says as he sits down, putting a cinnamon roll in front of you. “Had you favorite.”

“I’m trying to watch the carbs…” You mutter.

“Please.” He scoffs. “Would you just eat the fucking pastry? It’s good for you.”

“How is that thing good for me?” You laugh.

“It makes you happy when you eat it. You always hum and smile when you eat a cinnamon roll.”

“How sweet of you to notice.” Rachel remarks. “You’re practically her boyfriend.”

“Rachel.” You seethe, and take a bite of the pastry. You hum softly. “Why do these bloody things taste so good, huh?”

Harry chuckles and rubs the back of your neck briefly as he eats his own breakfast. He and Rachel share a glance, but that’s the extent of that interaction.

//

“Hey, Harry?” You tap on the outside of his door frame.

“Yeah, babe?” He says, taking his headphones out. It was a Friday evening and you both were doing homework. His eyes widen when he looks at you. “Your face is all flushed, are you alright?”

“Y-yeah, I just…could you come look at something for me?”

“Sure.” He follows you to your room and sits with you on your bed.

“Um...could I…could I show you some new photos I took yesterday? I just finished editing them…and I’m feeling a little self-conscious.”

“Aw, why? You’re so beautiful.” He keeps your cheek and rubs his thumb along your cheekbone. “Course I’ll look ‘em over for you.”

“Thanks.” You swallow and put your laptop on his lap. “So…like usual, they’re not overly explicit, but I feel like my boobs look weird. I should have gotten something with more support.” You blush and point to the photo.

“They’re perfect, you look perfect, Y/N.” You suck your teeth at him. “You do! What else do you want me to say?”

“Okay, what about this one?”

“Perfect.”

“This one?”

“Perfect.”

“But what about this one?”

“Perfect, they’re all perfect. I don’t know why you don’t think so.” He frowns and sets your laptop down on your desk. He turns to look at you. “What’s really going on?”

“It’s just…I have all these people leaving comments saying they wish they could know me, date, fuck me…and…like I don’t know any of them! All they know about me is that I can dance, and I look cute sucking on a lollypop. I…if I wasn’t making the money I that I am I’d stop doing it because I just want someone real to say all of those things to me, you know?”

“Y/N…” Harry sighs. “I know you, I wanna date you, and I certainly want to fuck you.”

“Wh-what?”

“I know, it’s so cliché it’s disgusting, isn’t it?” He smirks. “But it’s how I feel. I’m sick of tip toeing around it.”

“How long have you felt this way?”

“Can’t really pinpoint it, I don’t think it’s been long, but it doesn’t feel new either.”

Your eyes well up with tears, and he puts his hand back on your cheek. You lean into it. You felt deeply confused.

“I just never thought we’d…like…I just didn’t think you were into my like that.”

“Well, I am, so…what do you think? We already get along great. We like spending time together. I truthfully can’t stand other people. I think you’re the only person’s day I actually like hearing about. Have you really never thought about it?”

“I don’t know! You never made a move when we were in undergrad, with all those nights we slept next to each other, you never did anything…”

“Yeah, because you were asleep, Y/N.” He deadpans. “What did you want me to do? Feel you up while you were unconscious? Or better yet, make a move while we were both intoxicated?”

“No, of course not.” You shake your head. “I…I don’t know what I wanted. I just felt lucky that I had such a good friend.”

“Yeah, me too.” He sighs. “Look, it’s okay if you don’t feel the same way, this doesn’t need to be weird. Just know if you wanted to give it a try, I’d be down.”

“You’re genuinely attracted to me, like, physically?”

“Yes.” He chuckles. “And I like what you got going on up here too.” He taps your forehead with his index finger. “But you knew that already. What about me, are you physically attracted to me?”

“Well…yeah, you know you’re hot.”

“I didn’t ask you what I know.” He smirks.

“Okay, yeah, I’ve always thought you were handsome, but you used to really be a douchebag, it turned me off. Made it easier to just be your friend.” You smirk at him and he rolls his eyes.

“M’not like that anymore.” He inches closer to you. You could feel his minty breath fanning over you.

“I know.” You say just above a whisper. The mood had changed immensely. The dim lighting in your room was creating an atmosphere you had never really felt with him before.

“So…I guess the only thing left to figure out is if there’s any real heat between us.” You nod at him as his hand goes back to cradle your cheek once more. “Can I kiss you, Y/N?”

“Yes.”

You move towards each other slowly, your lips gracefully pressing against each other’s. You felt scared as your eyes pinched closed. It was scary to kiss your best friend, and what was scarier was that fact that it felt so natural and seamless. He pulls away, just to see if you’ll chase him, and you do, kissing him again. You do the same to him, and he comes chasing after your soft lips.

“Harry.” You whisper as you press your forehead to his.

“Yeah?” He whispers back.

“I…I wanna have sex with you.”

“Right now?”

“Right now.”

He cups both of your cheeks and pulls your lips back to his. His tongue peeks out to swipe along your bottom lip. He runs his lips back and forth over yours, and you open up for him. Your tongues meet, and you lick against each other, eliciting a moan from the both of you. You tug at the hem of his shirt, and he lets you lift it off. Your run your hands up and down his stomach as you continue to explore each other’s mouths, lips getting puffy and swollen. He sucks your bottom lip into his mouth while he unzips the sweatshirt you’re wearing. He pushes it off your shoulders, and you shimmy it the rest of the way off. He’s met with your bare breasts, and he licks his lips as he looks at them.

Harry pulls you closer to him, and his lips press against your neck. You cling to his biceps as he works his mouth down your chest. He looks up at you as he sucks on one of your nipples, rolling it between your teeth. You can’t help your head from falling back. He slides down to the floor as he continues to kiss on you. Your mouth falls open as he nips and sucks on your stomach, and his fingers hook into your leggings. He looks up at you and you nod. He tugs your leggings and underwear down your legs and gets them all the way off.

“Y/N, you’re sure?”

“Yes, I want you to, please.”

You open your legs for him, and he just about loses it from your confidence. He leans forward and kisses each of your hips. You think he’s about to go for your center, but he sucks on your inner thigh. You flinch from the sensitivity, but it feels good. You make sure to sit up on your elbows so you can watch him. He looks up at you and licks a flat stripe between your folds. He sucks on each of your lips before spreading you apart with his thumbs to focus on your clit. He sucks on it at first, harshly, and you gasp. He uses the tip of his tongue to flick back and forth against it. He runs his hands along your thighs to keep you open for him. You were clenching around nothing. His tongue was warm and wet, and everything you needed.

Your body starts to feel warm all over, you can feel your orgasm start to bubble up from within your lower belly. You let yourself fall back against the bed as you start to pant. Your voice cracks as louder moans begin to rip through your throat. He was sucking and slurping on your cunt, noises you had never heard before while someone was going down on you. And to really push you over the edge, he was moaning into you. Not little whimpers or grunts, genuine moans that were vibrating into you.

“Oh my god!” You cry out. A few tears roll down your cheeks as he continues to lap around you, helping you come down.

He kisses back up your body until he’s hovering over you. He smears his lips over yours, and you grunt, pulling him closer to you. It was the filthiest kiss of your life, completely tasting yourself on him, but you didn’t care. He just made you feel better than anyone ever did. You push him so he’ll on his back, and this time you’re the one to sink onto the floor. You get his jeans and boxers down his legs. Your eyes bug out when you see his large prick slap back against his stomach.

“Christ, Harry.”

“As if you didn’t already know.” He smirks.

“I mean, I had an idea.”

You spit into your hand and wrap it around his length. He grits his teeth as you start to slowly pump him up and down. You run his tip along your lips, and his mouth falls open. Your tongue presses over his slit and you wrap your lips around him. You suckle his tip, eliciting a moan from him. You hollow your cheeks and sink almost all the way down on him. You just wanted to feel him down your throat. You breathe your nose and just hold him there.

“Y/N.” He stutters.

You slowly pull off of him, a string of spit keeping you connected. You suck in a breath before sinking back down on him, not quite as much as you took before, and you bob up and down his length. You cup his balls and massage them as you make a mess of his prick. There was spit, drool, and precome dripping down your chin. Harry was a panting mess on the bed. His hands were gripping at the sheets, and the sight of him doing that causes you to moan. To see his veins popping out the way they were was enough to make you come again.

“Y/N, fuck, I’m gonna come.”

You moan around him as his come spurts into your mouth. You swallow it all and suck him dry. He pulls you up to him, dumbfounded that you just did what you did.

“I thought you wanted me to fuck you.” He breathes.

“I do, I’ve heard you have pretty good stamina.” You peck his lips. “I’m sure you’ll get hard again soon.”

He groans and shifts his thighs between your legs, making you gasp. He grips your hips and starts moving you back and forth along his tiger tattoo. Your nails dig into his chest as you work to grind against him.

“H-Harry.” You mewl.

“Yeah, ride my fucking leg, baby, show me how you do it.”

“God.”

“I want you so bad, I wanna fuck you so bad, Y/N.”

“Oh, oh!” You come undone on his thigh. You lean down and press your lips to his, licking into his mouth. Before you know it he’s moving you up his body, turning you around, and licking back into your cunt. “Shit!”

He’s relentless with you, fucking you with his tongue, telling you to bounce up and down on him, and you listen. He sucks on your clit again, and you fall forward, head resting on his thigh. You watch as his cock bloats back up. You’d never know someone to enjoy doing this so much. You kiss on his thigh because you just needed to do something with your mouth. He makes you come again, and he lifts you off of his face.

“Think you can keep going?” He smirks as your head falls back against your pillows.

He grabs your legs and pushes them back so your knees press against the bed. He lifts your bum enough to rest on his thighs, and he dips his tongue back into your cunt. This was some serious teasing. You watch as his tongue goes in and out of you, deeper each time. He reaches forward with one of his hands to rub your clit. It was throbbing for him.

“Harry, please.”

“What, no good?”

“No, it’s amazing, but…I really wanna feel your dick now, please, I know you’re hard again.”

“You just taste so good.” He brings his mouth down to your cunt and sucks on it.

“This won’t be the only time I’ll let your head between my legs, I promise.” You let your legs drop back to lay normally. He sits back as you look at each other. “When was the last time you were tested? I…I’m clean, and if you are too, I’d prefer not to use a condom if you feel comfortable with that.”

“STD test came back negative a month ago when I went in for a checkup. You’re on the pill?”

“Yeah.”

He leans down to kiss you, and then he pulls back to paint his cock with your wetness that was uncontrollably leaking out of you for him. He presses his tip against your clit, and slides it down your slit. He pushes inside you slowly. He fills you to the hilt, and waits. For a moment he just wants to enjoy how tight and snug you are around him. You push your hips up and start rocking against him.

“Jesus, Y/N, you’re so fucking perfect.”

“Because I’m moving myself on you?” You giggle.

“I just think it’s cute that you’re so goddamn impatient.”

“Would you just shut up and show what you can do with this thing? Or am I gonna have to do all of this myself?”

He accepts the challenge, pulling his hips back, and snapping them forward. You reach behind yourself to press against the headboard so your head doesn’t smack against it. He drives it into you fast and deep. He pushes you to the brink of coming, but he pulls all the way out of you. Before you can complain he flips you over, and grabs your hips. He pulls you back to him and slips back inside. You moan out from the new angle, and the sound of his skin slapping against yours makes your eyes roll back. He gives your bum a light smack and you grunt.

“You can do that a little harder, a little.” You didn’t want him to fully spank you, you weren’t into that sort of thing, but you didn’t mind feeling it a little more. He delivers a harsher smack and you groan again.

“You have the best ass I’ve ever seen.” He smacks you again and you grip onto the pillows. He grips the back of your neck to get a steadier pace going, and he uses his other hand to rub your clit.

“Fuck, Harry. You’re so attentive.” You manage to say. You felt like you could barely breathe.

“I’m gonna ruin you for any other guy.”

“Don’t want any other guy.” You admit. “I don’t want anyone else to fuck me.”

“Christ.” He moans.

His fingers move faster on your clit, and his tip pounds against your g-spot, and you’re coming. You’re coming hard around him. He pulls out and sits up against the headboard. You look up at him, completely frazzled.

“I want you ride me.”

“Okay.” You breathe. You shuffle around and swing your leg over him. You line him up with yourself and sink down on him.

He fondles your breasts as you move up and down on him. He kisses on your chest as you get a rhythm going. He leans back just to watch your tits bounce up and down. He looks up at you and grips you by the back of your neck to pull your mouth down to his. You breathe each other in and out as you moan and gasp. He takes control by gripping your hips, and you cling to him to let him just do what he wanted with you. You tighten around him and his head falls back for a moment.

“Where can I come?” He asks.

“Where do you want to come?”

“Inside you.”

“Okay.”

“You’re okay with that?”

“Yes.”

“You’re gonna be the death of me.” He grunts.

You cry out as he does when he comes. You don’t think you had ever felt so full in your life. He kisses you as you both catch your breaths. You tug at his hair, and grind against him. You were close to coming again. He takes the hint and snakes his hand between you both and rubs your clit. Your orgasm rips through you, and you moan into his neck.

“I’m so fucking sweaty.” You whisper.

“Do you wanna take a shower?”

“Yeah.” You look up at him. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Of course.”

“Do I still have legs? Because I can’t feel them.”

He puffs out some air as he laughs, smoothing some hair away from your face.

“Yes, you still have legs, Y/N. Should I carry you to the bathroom?”

“Please, I really need to pee.”

He kisses your forehead and slowly lifts you off of him. You clench so nothing falls out. You didn’t want to make a bigger mess of your bed.

“We can sleep in my room and wash your sheets tomorrow, don’t worry about that.” He says as he carries you bridal style to the bathroom.

He sets you down on the toilet and steps out to give you some privacy. Once he hears the water for the shower start he comes back in. He splays a hand on your back and gives you a gentle rub before you both step in. You felt overwhelmed. You just had the best sex of your life with your very best friend. As he reaches for his body wash you swat his hand. He raises an eyebrow at you.

“Would you…would you just hold me?” Your bottom lip quivers, and he pulls you into his chest.

You nestle into him, and just stand under the warm water with him. He cradles your head and lets you cry into him. He starts to cry too, although he’s not really sure why.

“I don’t want anything to get fucked up between us, Harry.” You look up at him, tears streaming down your cheeks. “I love you so much, and I don’t want something bad to happen that’ll make us hate each other.”

“M’not gonna let that happen.” He wipes your tears away, and then wipes away his own. “We’re gonna do this right. We’ll go out on dates, and we’ll see where it goes, and I hope it goes well because I love you too, and I value so many of the things we have with each other.”

You each take turns scrubbing each other down, getting clean. It’s soothing, and calming. You both relax, and get wrapped up into some towels. You run the blow dryer through your hair quickly just so it’s not sopping wet. He gives you one of his bed shirts to wear, and you crawl into bed with him. Being immersed in his scent was exactly what you needed. You rest your head on his chest, and he throws his arm around you.

“When was the last time you actually dated someone?” You ask softly.

“Um…think I was sixteen to be honest with you.”

“Ah, so a while.” You chuckle.

“You literally know my entire sexual history, and I know yours, let’s not pretend we’re both experts with all this.”

“So…we’ll just make this up as we go? I mean, I like that we sleep together sometimes, but I wanna keep my room, I don’t wanna move into the same room.”

“Christ, slow down, we just got together and you’re already talking about moving into the same bedroom?” You swat at his chest and he laughs, kissing the top of your head. “In all seriousness, I feel the same way, I think we should still have our separate spaces. You get pissed off with me easily.”

“Maybe you should try not to piss me off then.”

“Well, now that I know you enjoy a good tonguing, I’m not really worried about it. God, we can make up from a fight with sex instead of watching Dirty Dancing, it’s gonna be incredible.”

“Can…can we not do both?” You look up at him. “I love singing Hungry Eyes with you.”

“Yeah, both is good.”

“And I wanna make sure we clarify what are dates, and what’s just hanging out. I want dates to feel…special, I don’t know.”

“Can do. I think study dates at the library are gonna be my favorite.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because I can rile you up. I’ll sit across from you to play footsie, and then I’ll run my foot up your leg. I’ll make eyes at you. You’ll end up blowing me in the bathroom, it’ll be great.”

“Mm, yes, well, what if my leg’s the one doing the rubbing? I could probably make you come in your pants from my foot on your crotch alone.”

“Okay, no study dates. You know what I would really like, though?”

“What?”

“Sometimes…sometimes I really miss you when I work double shifts at work, and then I feel bad because you’re here all by yourself…so maybe you could come to the coffee shop more? Hang out, do homework, I’ll give you free food.”

“Sounds like a sweet deal to me.” You bite your bottom lip. “You’re not gonna ask me to give up my Only Fans are you?”

“What? No, why would you even think that?”

“I don’t know…you’re the jealous type, Harry.”

“True…but if that’s what you wanna do for work, I don’t have a problem with it. Can I tell you a dirty secret?”

“Always.”

“I’m subscribed to your page.”

“You are?!”

“Yeah…I’ve never wanked to your stuff because I feel like that would be creepy, but I do keep up with what you post.”

“I’m not gonna do it forever, once I get a real job I won’t need it…”

“You don’t have to explain yourself to me, babe. Even if you were doing the really filthy stuff, I wouldn’t care. That’s your business.”

“God, if I wasn’t so tired I’d hop on your dick again.”

He chuckles at that and gives your shoulder a squeeze.

“Any other questions?”

“I don’t think so. Although, I’m not looking forward to telling Rachel. The it’s about time or I told you so is not gonna be fun.”

“Same with Niall and Louis. We just gotta rip the band aid.”

You hum your response and get a little cozier by putting one of your legs over his. It was easy enough to fall asleep. You talked, so you weren’t worried about your friendship ending. If anything, it was all going to get better. Being able to kiss and touch on top of how you were with each other already was just the cherry on top. It didn’t happen over drinks, it didn’t happen in a club, and it didn’t happen by mistake. This was on purpose. He was the person you were supposed to be with, and he felt the same way.

[f1united]

Shop - DR3 Imagine

Part 2 to Zoo!

Daniel Ricciardo Imagine

Summary: You and Daniel are thinking about having a family :)

This contains mentions of periods, fertility and pregnancy so please do not read this if you think you may find it triggering!

Please let me know if you have any f1 requests, I am more than happy to write anything for you!

You weren’t quite sure that your sex life with Daniel could have become any more frequent but ever since you had considered trying to get pregnant it had seemed to. Over the Christmas period, anytime you guys had some time to yourselves you would end up in between the sheets in the kitchen, in the shower. The car when you were coming home from shopping, a dark cupboard when you had popped out somewhere and sometimes the toilet if you were at a party. Throughout the day you’d be watching a movie on the sofa, his hands would be tracing circles on your hips and he’d look up and say, “you might be at your most fertile now”. You would roll your eyes; you didn’t need an excuse to sleep together.

You had only briefly mentioned to you families that you were thinking of having kids. Neither of you wanted the pressure of people constantly asking how it was going because neither of you knew how it was going to go. You hadn’t been in this position before, you’d never been pregnant and although you had regular periods you didn’t know if you were fertile, or if Daniel was capable of having kids either.

It wasn’t until you were in Monaco at Daniels apartment and he was away at preseason testing that you first had an inkling that something had changed. When you were anxious you often felt sick, so when you woke up one morning and couldn’t get the thought of throwing up out of your head you began to wonder what was subconsciously on mind that was making you feel like this. Suddenly you got up out of bed and headed straight for the toilet, just about making it in time. You didn’t feel any better after getting yourself ready for the day and decided maybe some food would make you feel better. However upon opening the cupboards, you were met with a stale loaf of bread and not much else.

Daniel had kindly left you the keys to his car, he often did this while he was away and you were very grateful especially when you weren’t in your town with your own car near. When you arrived at the supermarket you grabbed a trolley and began to fill it with food. With Daniel home in a few days you knew you’d need to get a lot in. You passed through the medicine isle and grabbed some calming sweets. You had used since you were younger, and they always made you more relaxed. Your eyes glanced up and down the shelves as you walked through as you tried to recall anything that you might need. You saw some pregnancy tests on the top shelf so reached up to grab some and added them to your shopping. They were something you kept stocked up on just in case your period was late. Kind of just as a reassurance. It wasn’t until you reached the bread isle and the smell of baking dough made you gag that your eyes widened.

You were nervous to take a test, knowing that this could be the first time a positive line might appear with your intention for it to. You weren’t sure how Daniel would react, of course you’d had the discussion about kids but what if he’d changed his mind since being away? You didn’t mention it to him when he facetimed you that night. Your phone had rung while you were crying away at a film you’d stuck on the TV from Netflix. He chuckled slightly at the sight of you, you didn’t often cry at films unless you were due on your period and hormonal.

“Must almost be that time of the month” he smiled on your screen.

“Yeah I think it is” you stared at him as he spoke. He really was the love of your life. You didn’t want to take his mind off testing so you decided to tell him about your suspicions when he was home that weekend.

When Daniel arrived home, he was greeted by rose petals trailing from the doorway towards your bedroom. You often did nice things for him when he arrived home and he loved it. When he was away he’d send you gifts which you always refused to accept but eventually gave in, saying if he didn’t want you to have it he wouldn’t have bothered ordering it. You often felt guilty, knowing that you couldn’t spend the same amount on him that he did on you. You hated it but he reminded you how it was the little things you did for him that meant the most. His exact words were “Brands send me stuff all the time, but they don’t leave notes in with my lunch telling me how much I mean to them”. You felt defeated sometimes, but it was true, Daniel wasn’t the type of person who wanted to show off how much money he had, it was his family that meant the most to him.

He dropped his suitcase at the door and immediately headed in your direction. You had heard him come in, his usual shout announcing his presence had been forgotten about due to his curiosity. You had on some lingerie and a silk dressing gown that he’d brought you for Christmas. You took one final glance in the mirror before leaving the ensuite and meeting him in the bedroom.

“Hey baby” you wrapped you arms around his neck as he brought you in for a hug, “I’ve missed you”.

“Oh I think I’ve missed you more” He loved being in your presence, your smell, your smile, he just loved it.

“I doubt that” you gave him a peck on the lips as you pulled apart, he took one of your arms and twirled you around.

“You look insane” a compliment from him never failed to make you blush. That’s what you loved about your relationship, the spark never seemed to disappear. You rolled your eyes slightly but the smile stuck on your face was a giveaway that no matter what he said made you weak in the knees. Overtime your confidence had grown and you’d learnt to give it back. You had slightly less sexual experience that Daniel when you’d met to say the least. He admired how you tried not to let it show, he found it quite cute actually, which is why he was surprised when one day the tables turned and rather than getting you to beg for it, it was him doing the asking. He liked it more than he let on and that didn’t go unnoticed as you watched his every move. You had started teasing him more at work, especially when your relationship was still unannounced and there wasn’t much he could do about it. Your favourite was at dinners or parties when you were both dressed up and couldn’t take your eyes off one another. That’s what tonight had felt like. The few days apart had made you irresistible to one another. You both laid in bed for a while after just looking at each other in a comfortable silence and you decided that you couldn’t keep it to yourself any longer.

“I love you” you whispered; a tear ran down your cheek as you spoke which turned his loving smile into a look of concern. He immediately pulled you on top of him and then in for a hug.

“I love you too” As he spoke you began to cry more into his neck. You lifted you head up after a minute or so and looked at him. Whenever you were upset he’d never immediately ask you what was wrong, he’d comfort you until you were ready to speak about it. His facial expression softened slightly when you let out a little laugh. He couldn’t help but smile at the state of you which made you laugh a bit more.

“I’ve been an emotional wreck the last few days” you admitted, “and I think I might know why”. Your hands played with his as you sat on his lower stomach. You still felt nervous as his eyes scanned your body even after all these years. He’d seen you naked countless amounts of time and had probably seen your body from more angles than you’d like to admit but his gaze still made you shy.

“Your period?” he asked casually.

“No” you took a deep breath and looked him in the eyes as you held his hands still on his stomach. “I think I might be pregnant”.

[curlynerd]

Just Say It

Happy gift posting day for the @starrynightdeancas gift exchange! I had two assignees, so I'm posting two fics today! My 2nd gift recipient is @deanwinchesteradjacent! She requested canon-adjacent Destiel with fluff, action, and a happy ending. I hope you like it! <3

Word Count: 7.5K Rating: T Summary: A string of violent deaths at an otherwise charming B&B was all the excuse Dean needed to drag Cas down to Florida for some fun in the sun. Things had been awkward since Cas came back from the Empty and they could finally be together, but Dean was sure that a romantic getaway was the perfect thing to help Cas get out of the training wheels stage of Angel's-First-Romance and start acting like a real couple. Just as soon as they took care of a vengeful spirit. What could possibly go wrong? Notes: Post canon, fix-it fic, oneshot, love confessions, Dean is bad at feelings, case fic, beach fic.

Also read it on AO3!

“Alright, I’m heading out.”

“Did you pack deodorant?”

“Dean…”

“Toothpaste? Mouthwash?”

“...”

“Those fancy hair products? Cuz there’s just. So. Many--”

“Dean! I’ve lived my whole life on the road. I know how to pack a damn dufflebag!”

Dean smirked, unperturbed by Sam’s whining. “Yeah but Eileen is a classy lady. She’s not gonna put up with your usual road stank.”

Sam sighed in annoyance as he readjusted the bag on his shoulder. “I’m not the one who wears his underwear three days in a row, jerk.”

“Better leave that attitude at home, bitch,” Dean said cheerfully. “It’s your anniversary, after all.”

Sam’s mouth twitched into a shy grin despite his best efforts. “Yeah, yeah, I’ll be on my best behavior,” he said, letting Dean have one last bit of fun before he left. “You and Cas too. Don’t get into trouble.” He nodded in farewell before he climbed the stairs to the bunker door.

“Oh, and Sammy?”

Sam paused at the top of the stairs and turned around. Almost like he could sense what was coming, his eyebrow twitched in irritation. Dean hucked a box up to the landing, and Sam fumbled to catch it. Dean flashed a shit-eating grin as Sam read the Trojan label and fixed him with a scowl. “Make sure you wrap it before you tap it, Sammy.”

Sam rolled his eyes as he walked out the door.

Dean laughed to himself as he turned back to his laptop, scrolling through news articles looking for a hunt. He was still at it an hour later when Cas came shuffling into the room still in his pajamas, two cups of coffee in hand.

“Mornin’ Sunshine,” Dean crooned cheerfully. Cas’ hair was in wild disarray, and between that and his worn, brown sweatshirt and loose pajama bottoms, he looked more like a bear stumbling out of hibernation than a guy just waking up. “Sam already left.”

Cas set a mug down in front of Dean before slumping down into the chair beside him. “I hope he and Eileen have fun this week,” he mumbled as he hunched over his coffee.

Dean smiled at how adorable Cas looked, all grumpy and sleep-ruffled. He was still an angel...somewhat. He had Grace, if only a little. So close to mortality, Cas often needed mundane human things like sleep and food. He wasn’t particularly thrilled about it. In fact, he was so irritated about the whole thing that Dean hadn’t been able to work up the nerve to invite him to sleep in his room, instead of alone. Dean chewed on his lower lip. Maybe after this case, things would change.

“Are you looking up a case?” Cas asked, tilting toward Dean’s screen.

“Uh...yeah.” With forced casualness, Dean turned the laptop so Cas could read a headline from last year: “Gruesome Death at Bed and Breakfast Leaves Locals Worried.” “Over the past forty years, there’ve been six deaths at this B&B. All either heart attacks or a brain hemorrhage. All without a scratch on ‘em. Always a couple. Always on the same night: this Friday. That sure screams ‘ghost’ to me.”

“Key West?” Cas asked as he scanned the article. “Florida? That’s quite a drive.”

Dean shrugged. His fingers tapped against the tabletop. “It is, but hell, why not? Sam gets the week off with Eileen, why can’t we have a little vacation too?”

Cas narrowed his eyes. Suspicious. He was suspicious. Was a little time off really so bad? “You haven’t taken a vacation the entire time I’ve known you.”

“Yeah, well…” Dean struggled to come up with a good excuse. “That was, ya know. Before.”

“Before,” Cas repeated stiffly.

Dean rolled his eyes. “Before everything.” He gestured around his head. Before Cas told him he loved him and immediately died. Before Dean rescued him from The Empty. Before they wound up in this awkward, stilted Angel’s-First-Romance training wheels relationship Dean found them in.

That seemed to placate Cas. He nodded and took another sip of coffee. “The beach would be nice…”

Dean broke into a grin. “Better than nice! Toes in the sand, drinks with little umbrellas… That’s better than paradise.” He gave Cas’ shoulder a friendly pat. Then--because he could, couldn’t he?--Dean let his hand run along the broad expanse of Cas’ shoulder and gently cup the back of his neck.

This was okay, right? He’d held back on any sort of real PDA because of how uncomfortable Cas would act. And that was okay. He understood. Angels and intimacy...Well, angels just worked differently than humans. And it was all new to Cas! It took him over a decade to say he loved Dean. It would probably take awhile before he was ready to hold hands.

But this wasn’t very much, right? Just a light hand on the back of his neck. This was about as innocent as things got!

Except Cas went stiff under Dean, and Dean took the hint and pulled his hand away as he bit back a sigh. So much for that.

His eyes trailed back to his laptop. Hopefully this getaway would change things, help Cas loosen up and finally see that they could act even a little like a couple now. A romantic beach, warm sunshine, half-naked romps in the water, a cozy and only slightly haunted bed and breakfast…

What could go wrong?

----

Three days and one slightly terrifying highway over the ocean later, Dean and Cas pulled into a parking space for a charming bed and breakfast painted in a lovely pale--

“Lavender?” Dean balked at the decidedly dainty color of the siding. “I know they like their pastels here, but geez…”

“It’s just a paint color,” Cas said as he crossed around to the trunk and started unloading their bags. The duffle full of salt, shotguns, and various iron weapons clanked ominously. He shouldered it carefully so it wouldn’t make so much noise.

“This whole street is like friggin’ Candy Land.” Dean eyeballed the canary yellow house across the street suspiciously as they made their way to the front door.

The inside was clearly the result of a scandalous love affair between a Jimmy Buffet concert and a Hallmark store--All tacky tropical themed furniture and a dizzying array of porcelain figurines.

Dean grinned from ear to ear and elbowed Cas. At Cas’ inquisitive eyebrow, Dean nodded his head to a shelf full of long-haired, sad-eyed blonde angels. Cas rolled his eyes while Dean laughed to himself.

“Hello! Can I help you?” An older woman sat behind a small reception desk, smiling warmly at them in the glow of her ancient computer.

Dean put on his best people-pleasing smile. “Yes you can. Hi, I’m Dean, and this is my, uh…” Dean glanced over to Cas and his eyes crinkled in delight. “Cas. This is my boyfriend, Cas.” Just the word caused a giddy bubble of effervescence to float inside Dean’s chest. After all this time, they were really here. This was real.

Cas offered the receptionist a small, tight smile before turning his studious gaze to the figurines on the wall shelves. The woman furrowed her brow, so Dean charged forward with the conversation before Cas’ awkwardness put her off. If they were going to pry into the case here, they needed her to be friendly with them. “I booked a reservation for this weekend. It--Are you guys still open? It’s kinda quiet in here.” Dean glanced around the empty living space. There weren’t any other cars parked outside either.

The woman waved off his concerns. “Oh yes, it’s just the off season right now. Some weekends are like that.” She spoke a little too quickly as she clicked through her computer. Dean suspected all the news articles about bloody deaths had something to do with it. “Not hard to find your reservation. You’re our only guests tonight.” She grabbed two keys off a hook and held them out for Dean. “You’ll be in room 4, down at the end of the hallway upstairs. It’s the largest one. If you need extra towels or anything, let me know. I’m Susan.”

Sensing they were about to be dismissed, Dean swerved into a distraction. “You know, we’ve been on the road for ages. Do you have any coffee or anything like that? A little wakeup before we hit the beach?”

Susan pushed back from the desk. “Oh of course! I was about to get some for myself, actually. I’ll be right back.”

“Keep an eye out for anything suspicious, Cas,” Dean muttered as Susan disappeared down a hallway. “Anything out of place or really old. You know, haunted stuff.” Cas nodded, and Dean covertly pulled his EMF reader out of his jacket pocket and flicked it on. It was silent. They both made a pass of the room, pretending to look around.

“Here we are!” Susan said brightly, expertly holding three coffee mugs in her hands. Dean jumped a little and hastily put his device away before turning around. “I hope cream and sugar is okay.”

“Any caffeine is fine,” he assured her as he and Cas took their mugs. “So Susan, what is there to do around here? You know, other than what Yelp says. The insider’s scoop.” Dean winked as he took a sip of his coffee.

Susan smiled. “Well, if nightlife is your thing, there are some great spots within walking distance.”

Dean chuckled. “C’mon, Susan. Does this guy look like much of a dancer?” He grinned fondly at Cas as he draped his arm over his shoulders. It was ridiculous how much his stomach fluttered from the small action, but dammit, after all they’d been through to get here, Dean had earned a few butterflies. He squeezed Cas’ shoulder even though Cas didn’t really react. Dean was definitely going to have to clarify that the personal space rule didn’t apply anymore.

“Well, the restaurant down the street also does an excellent brunch,” Susan offered instead.

“Now that’s more our speed.” Maybe if the hunt went well they could actually stay the night, instead of getting the hell out of Dodge before the cops chased them down. Keep their salt and burn quiet and enjoy a nice night in. Dean tried not to get his hopes up for sharing a bed with Cas.

And he did mean sharing a bed. Things were moving so slowly between him and Cas he’d be thrilled just to spoon, nevermind anything else. Dean bit back a sigh as he swept over all of the knick-knacks and decorations, hoping for some sort of clue as to the identity of their ghost. “I’ve gotta say, I love the decor. Is all of this your collection?” Maybe a haunted object? Or a cursed one?

“Most of it.” A faint twinge of wistfulness colored Susan’s words as she looked over the porcelain figurines. “My Marcy liked to collect the angels, but that was years and years ago.”

On a high shelf was a large urn next to an oil painting of a young woman that immediately pinged Dean’s hunter’s instincts. “That’s a lovely painting over there,” he said, catching Cas’ eye meaningfully. Cas turned around to look too.

Susan’s face melted into a quiet, sad smile. “Yes, that’s my Marcy right there. A self-portrait. She was such a talented artist.”

Cas tilted his head. “She was your...wife?” he guessed.

Susan’s face crumpled. “No. No we were never…” She took a deep breath and continued in a steadier tone. “She was my business partner, but I loved her. Very much. And I knew she loved me too. So I suppose you could say we were almost together. Should have been together.” Her lower lip trembled.

“If you don’t mind my asking, what stopped you?” Dean felt bad for pressing her for information that was clearly upsetting, but people’s lives were at stake. Possibly Susan’s own.

Susan curled her hands around her mug, staring into the steaming coffee with a far off look in her eyes. “I was afraid. Of my own feelings. Of opening myself to getting hurt. So I...When Marcy needed me to be honest about how I felt I...I let her down. She got mad...We fought...She ran off. There was an accident, and...Well...” Susan took another deep breath. Her eyes were glassy with tears and heavy with regret. “Today is the anniversary of the day she died.”

“I’m so sorry for your loss,” Dean said, injecting even more sincerity into his words even though he expected as much. Marcy was the best lead so far. Was she attacking people on the anniversary of her death? She was obviously cremated, but perhaps there was something keeping her tied here?

“Not your fault,” she said with the heaviness of one who had heard those words hundreds of times. She shook her head. “You’re not the reason she--” Susan cut herself off and swallowed down her tears. Despite her best efforts, a single tear trailed down her cheek.

“It sounds like you loved her very much,” Cas said, his voice infused with genuine sympathy.

“She was my world. I loved her more than she’ll ever know...” Again Susan fell silent, this time lost in thought.

Then, with a deep, resettling breath, she wiped at her eyes with the edge of her finger and forced a cheerful expression. “But enough of that. You’re my guests. You don’t need to hear all of that! Do you need anything while you get settled in? More towels? Recommendations for restaurants?”

Dean shook his head, “Appreciate it ma’am, but we’ll probably just grab whatever’s convenient around here.”

“Well, would you like to eat here? Usually I don’t serve dinner for guests, but since it’s only the two of you, I can cook up something if you’d like. I honestly wouldn’t mind the company.”

Sensing another opportunity to interview Susan, Dean smiled his very best ‘comforting the bereaved’ smile. “We’d like that very much, Susan. Thank you for offering.” Then, carefully timed almost like an afterthought, he added, “Oh, and what’s the wifi password?”

Upstairs their room was somewhat small but airy. The walls were a crisp, breezy blue, the linens bright white. There was even a gauzy white canopy draped around the four-poster bed. Dean grinned. One bed. Surely that was cause for some optimism about tonight.

“I dunno about you, but I’m gonna sleep like a log tonight,” he said with the most casual tone he could muster as he grabbed the weapons bag off Cas’ shoulder and deposited it on the duvet. “What about you? Think you’ll need a couple z’s?” ‘Please say yes.’

Cas eyed the bed. Something strange flickered across his face. Something heavy, even sad. Dean immediately felt like a jackass for reminding Cas about his weak Grace. “I mean, who knows how you’ll feel tonight,” Dean added hastily. He started digging through his bag for his laptop. “Get some sea air in your lungs, and you might wake right up.”

Cas pursed his lips. “I suppose so,” he said, his voice carefully neutral. He turned away from Dean and started roaming the room, looking over the artwork on the walls and the little beachy decorations on the furniture. He came to a stop.

“This looks like Susan and Marcy,” he said, letting his fingers trail along the frame of a painting over the dresser.

“Yeah?” Dean looked up from his booting laptop. It was an oil painting like the one downstairs, with a young couple in bright dresses making each other laugh in front of a backdrop of a stormy gray ocean. One was undeniably a much younger Susan. Marcy looked the same as she did in the painting downstairs.

Cas frowned a little and pulled his hand back from the frame. He glanced around the ceiling and only relaxed when he saw an air-conditioning vent gently humming nearby. Dean shrugged it off and turned back to his laptop. He set right to work searching through the local newspaper archives and breaking into the coroner’s office servers. Finding their ghost was only a matter of time.

“Got it. Marcy Daniels. Died forty-three years ago tonight.” Dean flipped his laptop around so Cas could read the news article. “Hit by a car. Right outside this house. Died before she even got to the hospital.”

Cas squinted at the screen. The photo attached to the article looked just like the woman in the paintings. “And you think she’s the ghost?”

Dean shrugged. “Seems as good a guess as any. Violent death. Susan said they were fighting right before. Probably something happened between them that left Marcy pissed off enough to stay in the veil.”

Cas nodded. “We should ask her about it.”

“Nah, she’s not gonna let us grill her about her dead partner like that. We’ll strike up a conversation at dinner. That should give us enough time to figure out what’s keeping Marcy here before she attacks tonight.”

Cas deferred to Dean’s hunting experience. “Well then what should we do until then?”

Dean grinned from ear to ear. “What do you think we should do? To the beach!”

---

Dean shut the trunk of the Impala and straightened his back, lifting his face to the breeze blowing in from the sea. He breathed in deeply. “God, smell that salt air…” he said with a wistful smile. When he turned to Cas, the angel was looking at him with fondness, warmth making his blue eyes brighter. Dean’s smile grew, and he lifted up his sunglasses to flash Cas a playful wink. Cas quickly ducked his head and started walking.

Dean bit back a groan as he followed behind him with their beach bag. What was he doing wrong? He was trying to be gentle, to give Cas enough space to adjust to the idea that they were together now on his own. After all of the crap they’d been through together, after so many things keeping them apart, he understood why Cas was struggling. Hell, he’d been squashing down his feelings for so long, Cas probably didn’t know how to let himself have this happiness.

At least, that was what Dean kept telling himself. Deep down, though, he was afraid that Cas’ feelings were changing.

“There’s a good spot,” Dean said, jogging up behind Cas and forcing down his depressing thoughts before they could meet up with his self-loathing and really cause problems. He grabbed Cas’ arm and tugged him toward an unoccupied part of the sand. The weather was a little too temperamental this time of year to attract huge crowds, but there were still plenty of people out enjoying the sunshine.

Cas let himself be led, his flip-flops flapping awkwardly over the sand. Dean laughed a little, even though his footing wasn’t much better. When they’d walked far enough away from the boardwalk, Dean unceremoniously dropped their bag and dug out a large blanket to lay out.

“Perfect,” he declared as he tipped up his sunglasses to survey his work. He plopped down on the blanket and shucked off his shirt. A quick glance up let him catch the way Cas’ eyes widened for a fraction of a second before his expression smoothed over. Dean wiggled his eyebrows at Cas, but he didn’t see because he turned around like a friggin’ Victorian lady in order to pull off his own shirt before he sat down in front of Dean, facing the ocean. Dean’s gaze swept down the broad, muscular expanse of Cas’ back, and he could barely contain the heat in his eyes and in his grin.

Only then did Cas glance over his shoulder and catch Dean’s eye. Dean bit his lip suggestively, his grin widening, but Cas’ cheeks turned lightly pink and turned his head away. He rubbed at the back of his neck. Nervous, huh? Well that was alright. Dean could lighten the mood.

He held up the bottle of sunscreen. “Alright, let’s spackle your back.”

“I don’t think that’s necessary, Dean,” Cas said, not turning around. His voice sounded even more gruff than usual, which was certainly saying something.

“Nonsense!” Dean was already squirting a healthy dollop of sunscreen in his palm. “You can get sunburned, same as the rest of us.”

Cas sighed heavily. His shoulders twitched, tense, but he didn’t protest when Dean slapped his hand at the middle of his back.

Dean set to work rubbing the cream into Cas’ warm skin. “See? This is nice. It’s like a mini-massage.” He made sure to move slowly, almost caressing him. His stomach fluttered with the faintest whisper of excitement. This was the closest thing he’d gotten to action in months, after all. And Cas’ back was nice. Broad and firm and far more muscular than Dean would have guessed. His heart did a little tapdance at knowing that he was allowed to freely ogle now.

“I like seeing you out of the trenchcoat,” Dean said, now using both hands to stroke up and down Cas’ skin. Cas tensed again. “I mean, you look good under all those layers,” Dean said hastily, afraid that the reminder of his waning Grace was too painful. “When did you get so beefy?” Dean slid his hands up to Cas’ shoulders and then down his thick arms. He squeezed them playfully as he shifted closer, letting his knees bump against him.

He leaned in close so he could almost whisper, “Wish I could see it somewhere other than the beach.”

Cas’ back became hard as marble. He lowered his head. “That’s enough, Dean,” he said softly. His voice trembled with some barely contained emotion Dean didn’t understand.

Disappointment rose up Dean’s throat like bile. “Seriously? I’m almost done!”

Cas twisted around, his face pulled into a scowl. His cheeks were flushed. “Dean! I’m an angel! I don’t need this!”

Dean pulled back. “What? I can’t even put sunscreen on you now?” he demanded.

Cas didn’t have an answer to that. He only glared, his eyes flickering with something Dean couldn’t quite figure out. Pain? Longing? Regret?

Knowing Dean’s penchant for screwing things up all the time, it was almost certainly the latter.

Cas breathed out a long, frustrated breath and rose to his feet. “I’m...going for a walk,” he said. He folded his arms over his bare chest.

“Cas,” Dean pleaded. What had he done wrong? Why was Cas so mad?

Cas shook his head. “Please, Dean.” With one last glance filled with that strange, heartache-inducing emotion, Cas turned and started walking down the beach alone.

Dean stared after him as he left. “What the hell?” he said under his breath. The sting of rejection quietly throbbed in his chest as he turned his gaze to the ocean. What had he done to piss Cas off? Had he really crossed a boundary, or was something else wrong? Cas had been so weird since he’d been back. Shouldn’t he be happy? Hell, telling Dean he loved him was the happiest Cas had ever been, right? That was part of his deal with The Empty!

Did he regret it? Did he change his mind? Maybe Cas really didn’t want to have Dean. Not for real. Maybe that was why Cas never told him how he felt before. He had to have known Dean loved him long before his deal with The Empty came along. Maybe there was a reason Cas hadn’t said anything about it before.

Maybe Cas knew that Dean would screw things up if they got together. Maybe he was trying to pull away from Dean, make it easier to break things off when it all came crashing down.

Dean stewed in his thoughts, his expression dark as he watched the waves. He lost track of time until a pair of children came racing past him, screaming in delight and startling him out of his thoughts. He pulled at his phone to glance at the time. Cas had been gone over half an hour. Way too long. Dean looked down the beach, almost expecting to see Cas trudging back up the beach back to him, but he didn’t see any sign of him. But Cas couldn’t have left left. Dean had the car keys! Quietly cursing, Dean pulled out his phone and dialed Cas’ number.

...And heard a familiar ringtone coming out of their bag.

“Dammit, Cas!” Dean growled as he hung up. He stood up, but he still couldn’t see Cas. Had something happened? What if he’d gone in the water? What if he’d gotten pulled out to sea by a riptide? Despite knowing Cas didn’t even know how to swim, worry dripped ice cold down Dean’s spine, and before he knew it he was walking down the beach along the path Cas had taken.

“Cas!” he called out, but he didn’t see him. Dean started walking faster. He scanned the beach for a familiar dark head of hair and the bright orange swim trunks Dean had picked out for him. “CAS!” He was beginning to fear the worst.

“You lookin’ for someone?” a concerned voice called out. Dean whipped his head around to a small family sitting underneath an umbrella.

“Uh, yeah. Yeah, my buddy Cas.” Dean jogged over to them. “You see him walk by? Kinda beefy, kinda dorky. Dark hair, orange trunks, about yea high.” He held his palm flat about eye level.

The woman who spoke nodded. “Yeah, I think so. I saw him walking back toward town, though.” She pointed over her shoulder.

Dean furrowed his brow. Did Cas walk back on his own? Irritation flared in his chest as he forced a cordial smile and thanked the woman before jogging back the way he came. He didn’t see any sign of Cas back at their blanket either.

Dean scowled. Maybe he had walked back. Running off without a word was infuriatingly in-character for him. Dean cursed under his breath as he hastily packed up their things and started stomping up the beach toward the car.

What was even such a big deal? If Cas supposedly loved him so much, was rubbing his back that bad? Dean was trying to give him space, he really was, but the way Cas was acting, it was like he didn’t even like Dean, nevermind love him!

The thought clenched tight around Dean’s heart as he drove back to the bed and breakfast. Maybe he didn’t anymore. Maybe Cas was getting sick of him. Twelve years in each other’s lives, it was bound to happen eventually.

Maybe what angels considered love and what humans considered love was just different.

Dark thoughts still swirled in Dean’s head as he returned to the bed and breakfast and marched up the stairs.

“Dude, what the hell?!” Dean charged into their room, anger burning hot as his glare zeroed in on the angel sitting in a chair. “You can’t just go running off like that! You left your phone behind!”

Cas carefully closed the book he was reading. He was fully clothed again. “It’s not a long walk back here. I assumed you’d know where I’d gone.”

“I was worried sick about you! What if you went in the ocean and something happened?”

Cas narrowed his eyes. “I wouldn’t do that. You know I can’t swim.”

“You can’t just go stomping off whenever you get mad!”

Cas closed his eyes. “I’m not mad,” he said, though the growl in his voice suggested otherwise.

“Like hell you’re not!” Dean shot back. “So what is it? I can’t touch you now? It’s freakin’ sunscreen, Cas. Is it really that big of a deal?”

Cas’ eyes flew open. “Yes!” he said, deeply pained. “Dean, does it really matter so little to you that you’re okay with just ignoring it?”

Dean was brought up short. “Does what matter?”

“Me!” Cas plastered his hand over his chest. He almost looked like he could cry. “I told you how I felt and you insist on acting like nothing happened!”

Dean blinked. “What? That’s...that’s not true, Cas!”

“Dean! You didn’t say anything! Not once since you brought me back, have you said anything about the fact that I love you! And you may think that by ignoring it and trying to force things back the way they were before that you can lock up that Pandora’s Box again, but you can’t! I can’t. I can’t…”

Dean took a step forward, his expression darkening with confusion. “Cas, what’re you talking about?” He didn’t understand. Why did Cas look so hurt? So heartbroken? Cas loved him. Dean loved Cas. So why wasn’t he happy? What had Dean done wrong? “Cas, I--”

Cold mist curled up from Dean’s mouth.

They both went tense and still as they noticed just how cold the room had gotten. The lamp on the bedside table flickered.

“Shit,” Dean muttered under his breath. His eyes darted to the open dufflebag on their bed with all of their weapons.

He made a move for it, but a figure flickered into being in front of him. She was wearing a torn, bloody sundress. Her long, straw-colored hair was plastered to the half of her gaunt face where it was smashed in, blood staining it crimson. The ghost took a step toward Dean. Thick, dark blood dripped from her head but never reached the floor.

“Marcy,” Dean breathed. Guess she didn’t need to wait for nightfall after all.

“Coward,” the ghost menaced as she took another step closer. Dean carefully backed up. “Can’t even say it. Even when you’re hurting him. Coward!”

Dean’s eyes flickered to Cas, who was edging toward their weapons bag. He tried to make the movement quick, but the ghost noticed. With a vicious growl she flung out her hand and Cas went flying into the far wall.

“Don’t worry,” the ghost said to Cas, and the venom in her voice dropped into twisted sympathy. “I’ll take your pain away soon.”

Cas struggled to his feet as the ghost rounded on Dean again. Her outstretched hand aimed directly at Dean’s head, fingers curled into a wicked claw. But before she could touch him, Cas made another attempt at the duffle. She shrieked in fury and sent it spinning through the air toward the window. A single iron poker tumbled out of the open zipper as it flipped over and smashed against the glass, shattering it. The bag tumbled to the ground below.

Cas lurched for the poker. “Dean!” he called as he tossed it through the air, directly through the ghost. She howled and dissipated into smoke while Dean barely managed to close his fingers around the weapon. Cas and Dean stood back to back as they circled the room, Dean holding the iron poker at the ready.

“Salt,” Dean barked. “We need salt!” Except all of theirs was now two stories below. Dean silently cursed. “The kitchen! Go! I’m right behind you!”

Cas nodded and made for the door. The lights were flickering again. He and Dean narrowly made it into the hallway when their bedroom door slammed shut behind them. They raced for the stairs and nearly collided with Susan.

“Cas, Dean, what’s going on?” Her eyes were panicked, taking in the cut on Cas’ temple and the iron poker in Dean’s grip. Mist followed her words out of her mouth.

“Look out!” Dean reached for Susan, but he was flung backward by an invisible force. Marcy flickered into existence over him again. “Salt, Susan! We need salt!” he cried out before the ghost clamped its cold hand around his throat. Dean scrambled from his poker, but it had fallen just out of reach. His other hand grappled with Marcy’s, trying to pull it away.

He couldn’t see with the ghost pinning him down, but he was pretty sure he heard Susan’s footsteps racing away. Good. Even if she didn’t come back, at least she was somewhere safer. Black dots started to swim in Dean’s vision.

“Hey! Marcy!” A ceramic angel went flying through the air and smashed into a framed photo on the wall next to them, shattering the glass. Marcy snarled and whipped her head around. Her grip on Dean’s neck loosened a little, and Dean sucked in as many painful gasps as he could get.

“This is what you’re about, huh?” Cas goaded. He stood next to an accent table full of figurines, another ceramic angel in his hand, fat load of good that would do against a ghost. “Exacting revenge against shitty lovers?” Dean stretched his arm until his muscles strained. He could barely feel the length of the iron rod brush against his fingertips. If Cas could keep stalling for just a little longer... “I think anger has clouded your judgement.” Cas’ lips twisted into a bitter smirk. “You have no reason to attack Dean. Can’t you tell? He doesn’t love me.”

The statement caught Dean completely off-guard. His hand stilled as he gaped at Cas. “What?” he rasped around the ghostly hand on his throat. Didn’t love him!?

The ghost growled at Cas. She raised her arm as if to psychically toss him toward the stairway, but right at that moment, Susan barreled up the stairs, a blue canister of salt in her hand.

“I have the salt!” she said, and with panic and desperation in her eyes she blindly flung the open canister at Dean and the ghost. Salt flung in a wide arc and rained down on Marcy, who screamed and disappeared instantly.

Dean rolled onto his side, coughing weakly as he grabbed onto the iron poker and clutched it against his chest. Cas ran to him, only stopping to grab the canister of salt. He hastily drew a circle around them, draining the last of the salt on their protection ring. “Susan, get in the circle!” he commanded as he knelt beside Dean.

“You don’t think I love you?” Dean choked out between gasps for air. His head was spinning. Cas’ hand on his shoulder helped a lot, but when Dean asked his question Cas quickly yanked it away. “How could you think that?” he said, genuinely confused.

“What’s going on? Why did that...that thing look like my Marcy?!” Susan nearly flung herself into the circle with them. She clutched at her chest, casting her terrified gaze around the room.

“Her ghost,” Cas said, though he didn’t take his eyes off Dean. His brow furrowed. “Dean, you haven’t--”

“Ghost?!” Susan screeched. “Then what the hell are we doing standing here?!”

“Salt repels ghosts,” Cas replied with way more patience than Dean would have had. “She can’t come into the circle.”

“What’s going on?” Susan’s eyes went huge, her face going pale. “She...She killed those people last year, didn’t she? How do we stop her?”

“Usually burn her remains, if anything is left,” Cas said, “but she was cremated, wasn’t she? So something else is tethering her here. Perhaps a locket? Something she cherishes.”

Susan frowned, panicked eyes darting around in front of her as she mulled it over. “Her painting,” she said with a gasp. “The one in your room. She finished it right before our argument! Right before she ran out into the street and was hit by the car. It was precious to her. She put her everything into it, tried to use it to confess her love for me, and I...I was too much of a coward to say it back. That’s why we fought.”

Cas and Dean’s eyes met, and they both nodded. Dean grunted as he pushed himself to his feet, poker still clutched to his chest. “Susan, stay here. Whatever happens, don’t leave the circle. Cas, I’ll keep her busy. You burn the painting.”

As one unit Cas and Dean left the salt circle.

Immediately the hallway burst into chaos. Doors slammed shut everywhere. The knick-knacks and travel guides on the accent table went flying through the air. The lights flickered until their bulbs burst, leaving only the light of the window at the far end to help them see.

They ran.

“You don’t think I love you?” Dean demanded, because a deadly ghost hunt seemed as good a time as any to have this conversation. Some things were too damn important to wait for downtime.

“Because you don’t!” Cas snapped. He threw himself at the shut door of their room, but it was supernaturally sealed. He grunted and tried again. Marcy appeared at his side, a ghostly hand reaching for his chest, a snarl on her lips.

“Cas, of course I love you, you idiot!” Dean swung at Marcy, forcing her to disappear again. Cas slammed himself against the unmoving door. “How could you think I don’t?”

“Dean, I died--” Cas slammed into the door again. His eyes glowed faintly with his weakened Grace. “Telling you how I felt. And you said--” Another crash; the door cracked ominously. “Nothing about it since I’ve been back!”

Marcy flickered into being next to them again. Dean knocked her away with the poker.

“I thought you knew! I thought you didn’t love me and that’s why you never said anything!”

“I told you!” With one final crash, Cas burst through the door and into the room, Dean hot on his heels. They ran for the dresser. “I told you the one thing I wanted, I couldn’t have! That thing was you, Dean!” Cas yanked the painting off the wall and threw it on the ground, shattering its glass and exposing the paper.

Marcy screamed in fury and appeared in front of him. She flung him at the dresser just as Dean dispersed her with a forceful swing. He flipped the poker in his hand, readying himself to strike again while Cas scrambled to his feet, lighter freed from his pocket and held at the ready.

“Because of the Empty!” Dean insisted. Marcy’s form materialized again, and Dean raised his weapon as she approached. “You couldn’t have me because of the deal with the Empty!”

Cas fumbled with the lighter. “I can’t have you because. You. Don’t. Love me!” It finally lit. Cas threw it onto the painting, sending it up in flames.

Marcy howled in agony as her body sparked and burned. She raised her head skyward as if to escape from the rising flames, but in a flash of heat and bright orange light, she was gone, and Cas and Dean were left standing alone in the room.

They stared at each other in the sudden, violent silence. Cas’ face was a mask of frustration and pain.

“Dean, I’ve been back for months. Months. And you have said nothing about how you feel. Do not lie to me now because you feel sorry for me.” With one last heartbroken glare, Cas stomped out of the room, leaving Dean behind to stamp out the flaming remains of the painting.

Once Dean didn’t need to worry about burning the house down, he went looking for Cas. He found him outside, loading up their scattered weapons into the trunk of the Impala.

He looked shattered. His face was crumpled with pain, his eyes dull, deep furrows in his brow. It brought Dean up short. Guilt welled up so intense that Dean almost couldn’t say anything at all. Except, well, that had gotten him into this situation in the first place.

“I thought you knew,” Dean called across the distance between them. Cas stopped and turned to look at him. The bitterness in his eyes made Dean’s stomach churn. “I thought you knew,” he said again. He took a step toward Cas. “For years I thought you knew. But, you know, you’re an angel. I thought you didn’t...I thought you couldn’t…” He trailed off. Cas’ forehead was furrowed in confusion, but he was at least listening, so Dean swallowed down his discomfort and barreled forward. “I thought angels couldn’t fall in love. Except...then you died telling me you did. Telling me that the reason you couldn’t even tell me how you felt was because being happy would trigger your deal and…” He shrugged.

“You thought I was deliberately keeping us apart?”

“Because if you told me you felt the same, then we’d be together and you’d be happy and you’d die.”

The bitterness had faded from Cas’ eyes, replaced with something that Dean was loath to acknowledge looked a little bit like pity mixed with profound frustration. “So when I came back, you thought there wasn’t anything left to talk about?”

Dean scratched the back of his neck and took another step forward. “Yeah well…What else was there to say? You said you, you know, loved me. And I thought you knew that I, you know…” He trailed off.

“Dean.” Dean had never heard Cas sound so pained just saying his name. “You.” Cas scrubbed at his face. His mouth twitched as he struggled to find words for all the ways Dean had screwed up. Was continuing to screw up.

“The hoops that you jump through to avoid talking about your feelings astound me,” Cas finally said. He dropped his hand with a sigh of defeat, and Dean’s heart sank. This was it. The death rattles of a relationship that hadn’t even really started. Dean never had what he truly wanted, and he never would.

Dean ducked his head, unable to look Cas in the eye. “Right. Yeah. That’s me, alright.” He swallowed around the hard lump in his throat. The long drive back to Kansas was going to be awful.

“Say it,” Cas said softly. His words were a command, but when Dean looked up in surprise, his eyes were pleading. “Please,” he breathed, almost like he didn’t deserve to even ask, and something inside Dean cracked.

“I love you, Cas.” One step, two steps, he crossed the distance between them and threw his arms around Cas’ shoulders, clinging to him the way he wished he could have before the Empty took Cas away. “It’s you, Cas. It can only be you. It’s only been you for years. I promise.”

Cas’ next breath stuttered in his lungs. His arms wound tightly around Dean, desperate. “Dean,” he sighed, this time like a prayer.

“I’m right here, buddy.” Dean held him tightly, the way he should have when he first got Cas back from the Empty. The way Dean wanted to all these months when he thought...Well, when he was an idiot. “You can have me, you know. You already have me.”

Cas pulled back enough to look Dean in the eye. His eyes were glassy. Dean’s didn’t exactly feel dry either. ‘I wonder if I can kiss him,’ Dean thought, milliseconds before Cas did just that.

Cas’ lips were warm against his own, and Dean gasped softly as his hand wound through Cas’ thick hair to cradle the back of his head. His kiss was eager, if not clumsy, and Dean smiled a little as he let Cas take the lead anyway. When they finally pulled apart, Cas’ normally pale lips were flushed pink, and Dean’s soft smile morphed into a huge, affectionate grin.

“Hey,” Dean said, his voice surprisingly husky after a largely innocent kiss.

Cas smiled back. “Hello, Dean,” he said, and Dean couldn’t help it. He laughed. God, how he loved this angel.

“So whadya say, Cas?” Dean said when his laughter quieted. “Ready to get the hell outta Dodge?”

Cas’ hands slid down Dean’s back until they were resting on his hips. “Actually…” His gaze turned wistfully in the direction of the distant beach. “I had a different idea.”

---

“You sure this is okay, Cas?”

“Dean…”

“Cuz I mean, I want to respect your boundaries.”

“Dean!”

“And I totally understand if I’m crossing a line here.”

Cas twisted around and gave Dean and his closed bottle of sunscreen a baleful look. Dean couldn’t help but laugh. “If I get sunburned, you can get your own room tonight.”

“You’re probably not even going to sleep anyway,” Dean shot back.

“I’ll sleep just to spite you.” Cas scowled, but Dean could see the corners of his lips twitching playfully. With a rush of affection, Dean shifted so that Cas’ bare back was pressed against his chest and Dean could rest his chin on Cas’ shoulder. Cas went stiff against his body, but it only lasted a second before he practically melted into Dean’s hold. Dean wrapped his arms around him as he watched the waves.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Dean said with a sigh.

“Yes,” Cas breathed, but he wasn’t looking at the sea.

Heat rushed to Dean’s cheeks. He cleared his throat and kept his gaze solidly on the ocean. “You’re such a sap,” he grumbled weakly.

“You’ll get used to it.” Dean could see Cas’ smirk in the corner of his eye. Dean tightened his embrace.

“I dunno if I ever will,” he said quietly, a soft smile on his lips as he finally got to hold his angel.