#y’all are just alcoholics stop normalizing it for everyone else THANKS!

[femmetay]

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[softtransbf]

Karaoke Night

From the beginning, I knew it had to be karaoke that got me and Winn together. But I've scrapped 4 attempts and probably about 8k words to get this thing right, and I think I've finally gotten a version I'm happy with.

Warnings: anxiety attack, brief alcohol mention, brief sexual innuendo

Word Count: 2019

Summary: It's a good thing when your crush runs out of the room after you're forced to sing a romantic song in front of him, right? Right??

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I leaned back in my chair and took a slow sip of my drink. I hadn’t known what to expect when Kara invited me to karaoke night at an alien dive bar, but it turned out to be a really fun time. Fortunately, Alex, James, and J’onn weren’t inexplicable vocal powerhouses like Winn, and apparently Kara, so I felt a lot more comfortable. Not that I had any intention of singing.

But, of course, as soon as I had the thought, Kara slid into the seat across from me with a smile that terrified me.

“Hey, Simon! Glad you could make it! Why are you sitting way back here? Come join us at our table!” She gestured to a table in the middle of the bar where everyone else was. Winn caught my eye and waved, and my heart did something ridiculous.

“Thanks, but I’m good here- I’m much more comfortable with a wall behind me.” 

She nodded, understanding. I expected her to go back to the other table, but instead, she waved everyone else over. They all smiled, grabbed their drinks, and headed over without a moment’s hesitation. I told myself I was just imagining Winn subtly elbowing Alex out of the way to take the seat next to me.

I smiled and rolled my eyes. “Y’all, you really didn’t need to do this. I swear, I was having a perfectly good time as it was.”

“Yeah, well, too bad,” Winn said. “No one gets left out on karaoke night, even if they want to be.” He smiled, too, and took a drink of his beer. I tried my best not to think about the phallic nature of a beer bottle.

Kara stood up. “And absolutely no one gets to get away without singing. Come on, I already put in a song for you.”

My jaw dropped. “No, hang on, wait, no. I don’t sing.”

James, sitting on the other side of me, put one hand on my shoulder. “Everyone has to. Best to get it over with- she’s not gonna let this go.” 

I thought for a second, weighing my options, then sighed. “Fine. What method of my utter humiliation did you pick?”

“You’ll see, just come on.” I stood up and let her lead me to the stage. I took the mic, and she headed back to the table.

The screen changed, and my heart stopped when I saw what song it was. How ‘Bout A Dance from Bonnie & Clyde. “How did you know I even know this song? Kara, I can’t do this.” Instead of responding to my desperate plea across the room, she gave me a thumbs-up. The music started, and I realized I wouldn’t be able to look at that area of the bar again for the rest of the song I’d listened to dozens of times, thinking about Winn.

In for a penny, in for a pound. There’s no half-assing this one. Fuck.

Thankfully, the song started off quiet, so I could focus on breathing and trying to forget where I was. As difficult as a song it was to sing well, it is one I knew like the back of my hand, so it could have been worse. As long as I avoided looking at him, I could get through it. 

For most of the song, I did. But shortly before the end of it, I couldn’t stop myself, and nothing in the world could have prepared me for what I saw. Normally, his inability to sit still also applied to where he was looking, but he was perfectly still, focused on me with an intensity I’d never seen from him before. It froze me, too, and I found myself singing the rest of the song directly to him. 

The last notes faded out, and whatever spell had fallen was broken. I turned to put the mic down, and when I turned back, Winn was gone. My heart sank and cracked. Fighting the panic attack that was starting to bubble in my chest, I walked back to the table.

I hadn’t even noticed that all of them were cheering and clapping until Alex spoke. “Simon, that was awesome! ‘I can’t sing’ my ass.”

I forced a laugh. “Thanks, but technically I said I don’t sing, not that I can’t.” I turned to Kara. “Thanks for inviting me, and including me and all that, but I really have to go. Sorry.” I ducked my head down and rushed out the door, not letting her respond. 

Maybe it’s a good thing he left. It’ll be easier to pretend that didn’t happen if I don’t see him for a while, at least until I can get a grip. I got to my car, and as I fumbled to unlock it, I heard someone walk up behind me. 

“Kara, I know you mean well, but I’m holding out against a panic attack by the slimmest of margins right now. I have to get home. I’ll call you later.”

“I’m, uh, I’m not Kara.” You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me. “Are you okay? Sorry, bad question. Can I help? Do you need a ride home?” The gentleness and care in Winn’s voice almost brought me to tears. Everything in me screamed to turn around, to look at him, but I couldn’t do it.

“I’ll be fine. I don’t live far from here, and I’ve got tools to help me get there safely. Thanks, though.” I got the car unlocked, but before I could open the door, his hand was on mine, stopping me. It was almost painful, how close behind me he was.

“If this is because I left, let me explain. I can’t let you leave like this if it’s my fault,” he whispered. I could feel his breath on the back of my neck; it took everything I had not to lean back into him.

I took a shaky breath. “I have an anxiety disorder. It’s not your fault. Please, Winn, I’ve embarrassed myself enough today. Pretend you never saw this, let me hold on to some shred of my dignity.” He moved his hand and took a few steps back.

“Embarrassed yourself? Is that why you think I left?” There was something different in his voice, but I couldn’t quite place it without the context of body language.

“If not that, why?”

“Can you look at me? You don’t have to, of course, but I’d rather say this to your face if possible.” I turned around, braced for the all too common look of pity that always came when people learned about my anxiety, but instead I was met with real understanding and compassion. He understands. I couldn’t help it; I started crying.

“Hey, hey, hey, it’s okay.” He closed the gap between us again, putting his hands on my shoulders. “I’m sorry, that can wait. Let’s get you home, okay?” 

Too overwhelmed to think, I collapsed into him, wrapping my arms around his waist and fully sobbing into his shoulder. Without a moment’s hesitation, he pulled me in closer with one arm around my back at the shoulders and his other hand on the back of my head. It was the best hug I’d ever had. Then he started swaying gently from side to side and softly humming, and I’d never felt safer in my entire life. 

Before long, I stopped crying, and I noticed what he was humming- How ‘Bout A Dance. I chuckled, and he stopped moving and relaxed the hug just enough for me to be able to back up and look at him, neither of us letting go.

“Feeling better?” he asked, and I took a deep breath.

“Thanks to you, yeah. I’m sorry about breaking down like that.”

To my surprise, he smiled. “You have nothing to apologize for. I’m just glad I could help.”

I felt myself smile back. “I meant it, you know. It really wasn’t your fault.”

“It kinda is, though,” he said, crinkling his nose adorably.

I shook my head. “Nope. Something I learned very early on in dealing with an anxiety disorder- it’s not anyone’s fault. Assigning fault or blame just adds more layers of shame and guilt, and it makes it so much worse. If you still want to tell me why, I’d love to hear it, but only if you want to for you, not because of me.”

He nodded, taking that in. “That makes sense. And yeah, I really do want to tell you.” He took a deep breath. “I left because if I hadn’t, I would have done something stupid like run up there and kiss you in front of everyone.”

I was quiet for a few seconds, pretending to think while I rebooted my brain. “Well, maybe that wouldn’t have been an ideal first kiss, but it certainly would have made for a good story.”

His eyebrows shot up and he started laughing. “You were having a full breakdown, like, a minute ago, and now you’re making jokes?”

“I contain multitudes, babe,” I said with a shrug. “Get used to it.” I leaned and kissed him, soft and quick. When I pulled back, I couldn’t help but giggle. “Oh my god, you’re blushing SO much. You’re so fucking cute.” That made him blush more, and he looked away and tried to get out of the hug. I didn’t let him.

“I- I am not blushing! And I’m not cute!”

“You are objectively both of those things.” 

Seeing a logical out, he all but shouted, “Ah, see, there’s your problem! Cuteness is inherently subjective! Objective cuteness doesn’t exist.”

I clicked my tongue. “In most cases, you’re right. However, in the years I’ve known and had feelings for you, I have discovered a quantitative scale of how cute you are. That scale may exist at different levels of appeal for different people, but right now, you are at the upper extreme of it.”

“Y- years?” He asked, his voice suddenly very soft.

Fuck. I looked away, embarrassed. “I- yeah. Pretty much since my first day at CatCo. I’m sorry, that probably came across as super creepy, didn’t it? I’m so sor-” my apology was cut off when he leaned forward and kissed me, deep and slow. 

I don’t know how long we stayed like that, making out in the middle of the parking lot, but eventually he pulled back. “Thank you for not giving up on me.”

I pulled him into a tight hug. “Honestly, I tried. But you’re too incredible to let go of. Thank you for seeing me. And thank you for your help earlier, with the anxiety.” I took a step back, breaking the embrace. “And I guess we should thank Kara for the set-up, despite how close it came to disaster?”

“Yeah, I guess we should,” he laughed, running a hand through his hair. “She’s gonna be so smug.”

“Oh god, yeah. Should we go in and face her and everyone else now?” 

He thought for a second. “We could, or we could just take off? Go somewhere else, avoid all of their comments and opinions as long as we can?”

I breathed a sigh of relief. “Oh thank god. I was hoping you’d say that.” I put one hand on his cheek and smiled. “Maybe we go back to my place? We could watch a movie, or talk,” I looked down at his lips and stepped towards him, “or not talk.”

Maybe I moved first, maybe he did, maybe we moved at the same time, but a heartbeat later we were kissing again, this time needy, almost desperate. Without even thinking, I put one hand into his hair and pulled lightly; the sound he made was the most beautiful thing I’d ever heard.

As quick as it started, we stopped. “Yeah, your place sounds great,” he said, completely breathless.

“Fantastic. Let’s go.” My voice wasn’t any steadier, but they were barely out before he literally ran to the other side of my car. “Like I said, so goddamn cute.”

I managed to not egregiously break any traffic laws on the way, but just barely.

[hangovercurse]

Teeny Tiny Secret

After months of trying, you and Colson finally get those two pink lines… the day before tour starts.

Request: “I know that requests are closed, but I HAD to share this before it left my mind. When you have an opportunity, could you please write a story where y/n is in super early (not showing or anything) stages of pregnancy and on tour with mgk. She & Colson make a plan to keep it from the bandmates for now. It becomes difficult when he becomes super over protective (not letting her carry anything, not wanting the guys to crowd her), unconsciously put his hand on her stomach, and ordering non-alcoholic drinks for her. The band suspects something. Y/n talks with him to try to get him to calm down a little. It works until the guys ask you both about it directly and Colson's the first to crack.”

Colson Baker x Reader

Warnings: Cursing

A/N: Y’all are all up in that spring baby fever… this is like my 3rd or 4th baby request recently

Word Count: 2211

You and Colson had been talking about having a second kid for months but stopped trying a few weeks before tour started. You didn’t think it had worked until you woke up three days before tour and rushed to the bathroom, morning sickness wrecking your body. Colson felt you getting out of bed and followed a few minutes later, tiredly. When he found you hunched over the toilet, his whole demeaner changed.

You knew for sure the day before tour, after multiple pregnancy tests you had gone to see an OBGYN for confirmation. Sure enough, you were pregnant. The universe sure knew the definition of ironic timing.

Colson’s immediate reaction was to have you stay home. “All the traveling and partying isn’t gonna be good for him.” He said, pacing around your bedroom while you laid on the bed. “Tour life is not good for babies.”

You raised your eyebrow, “him? It’s been one day and you’re already setting unrealistic expectations for our unborn child.” You joked, a small smile on your lips.

Colson’s mouth gaped before he continued, “Y/N, we need to be serious about this. You can’t come on tour if you’re pregnant.”

You rolled your eyes, “Colson, I am not letting you leave me here while I am pregnant. I’ll be fine. I won’t drink and I’ll take it easy. You just have to make sure the guys don’t smoke around me and we’ll be fine.”

His eyes went wide. “Shit, the boys.” He paused to think as confusion crossed you. “If the boys find out about this they’ll freak out and then the whole tour is gonna be a shit show.”

It was kind of funny how much more worried he was than you were. “Babe, come here.” You motioned for him to come sit in the bed with you to which he complied. You leaned your back against the headboard, expecting him to follow. Instead, he laid so his head was next to your stomach. He pressed a small kiss into it, making your heart fluttered, the reality of the situation hitting you and making you insanely happy. “Why are you so worried?” You asked him softly, combing your hand through his hair.

He reached, moving your shirt up so he could kiss your bare stomach. He mumbled against your skin, “I think I wanna keep this a secret for now.” You hummed and he continued, “just for us, y’know? I wanna enjoy this.”

You nodded, “I’m still coming on tour with you, though. I don’t wanna be alone right now.”

He smiled against your stomach, finally moving up to sit next to you, pulling you towards him for a soft kiss. His hand went to your stomach, rubbing circles into the skin. “I can’t believe we’re gonna have a fucking baby.”

You smiled against his lips, a thought popping into your head, “can we tell Casie at least?” His eyes lit up at your suggestion, a quick nod of his head affirming the idea.

 The next day was hectic, as all first days were. You had gotten a list of everything you could and couldn’t do from your doctor, and the all-clear to fly for the first trimester. So, you and Colson found yourself with the crew at LAX airport bright and early in the morning. Ashleigh passed you an itinerary, letting you know that you would all be meeting the bus in Cleveland, where the first show was.

Colson’s arm hadn’t left your waist since you got to the airport, holding you to his side all morning. Occasionally you could feel his thumb rubbing circles near your stomach, something that was definitely becoming a habit of his. At one point he ended up standing behind you, hands resting on your stomach as he held you against him. You tried not to give anything away, but you found it adorable how excited he was. He wanted to be as close to the unborn baby as possible at all times, his hands constantly near your middle.

Eventually you arrived in Cleveland, walking down the long hallway to the baggage claim, taking in the small Cleveland hall of fame that the airport had created. You spotted your suitcase and went to grab it, but Colson beat you to it. “I got it, babe.” He gave you a look that let you know you wouldn’t be carrying anything.

You sighed, “I can get it Colson.” He shrugged, grabbing his bag off of the carousel next. The man now had a large duffel bag slung over his shoulder and two suitcases in his hands. “Seriously, it’s not that heavy.”

He shook his head, “I’m not letting you carry anything heavy. I can do it.” You sighed but let him, knowing you wouldn’t win this battle.

Unbeknownst to you, Baze had seen the whole interaction and was very confused.

 Later, once you had arrived at the arena, you were hanging in the dressing room with Slim and Irv on the couch. You guys weren’t really talking about anything in particular, mostly just cracking jokes about Rook’s outfit for the night.

When the younger boy heard Slim say he looked like “if Willow Smith and Gerard Way were put into a blender,” he came over, blunt in his hand.

Rook started jokingly arguing with Slim and you were all laughing at his distress. In the middle of their argument, however, Colson came over and grabbed the blunt out of Rook’s hand. He put it out in an ashtray before returning to you, squeezing himself between you and Irv.

Everyone, including you, stared at him, dumfounded. “Dude why the fuck-“ Rook started, only for Colson to cut him off.

“You shouldn’t smoke in here.” He shrugged, arms wrapping around you. He squeezed your waist, letting you know why he really did it. You were somewhat thankful; smoke was bad for the baby. But there are less obvious ways to have gone about that.

Rook grumbled but didn’t attempt to light another one. Slim looked at you, an eyebrow raised in question. You shrugged your shoulders, pretending to act innocently naïve to Colson’s behaviors.

Eventually the three boys travelled from the couch, leaving you and Colson alone. “Babe, you gotta try and be a little more subtle about that shit.” You mumbled, turning to face him.

He scrunched his eyebrows, “he shouldn’t be smoking around you. What else was I supposed to do?”

You sighed, “I don’t know, but that wasn’t subtle. If you keep treating me differently, they’re gonna figure out that something’s up.”

Colson lets out a breath through his nose, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “I’m sorry, I just don’t want anything to happen to…” he trailed off, trying to keep a low profile.

“I know you’re just being careful. It’s sweet, and I really appreciate it. But either we tell the guys what’s going on or we figure out how to be more subtle.” You thought you guys were being quiet, but once again Baze was standing just within earshot, hearing your entire conversation.

 Colson demanded you stay backstage instead of in front of the gates like normal tours. “I don’t care if they think something’s up, you are not getting anywhere near that crowd.”

This was something you could actually agree on, not wanting any crazy fangirls to try and reach over the barricade and hurt you by accident (it had happened before). So, you were stood backstage before the concert, like normal, only this time you had a spot next to the stage picked out just for you to watch. Colson came over to you, jumping up and down in excitement.

You giggled at his happy demeanor, feeding off his energy. “Good luck kiss?” You offered to which he happily nodded. You pulled him in by his shoulders, intending to give him a soft kiss. Colson being Colson, however, decided that this was the perfect time for an extremely heated make out session.

You didn’t complain much as his hands explored your waist, paying special attention to your stomach, where a small bump would soon be forming. His lips against yours were heaven.

“Okay loverboy!” Ashleigh called, making him pull away from your lips but he kept himself close to you. “You’re on.”

He nodded towards her, giving you one last peck before running off to the stage. Before he left, his hands lingered on your stomach just a little longer than normal, his eyes glancing down to it for a split second.

Then you watched the love of your life run towards the stage, a grin on his face. “I love you!” You called. He turned to you right before he got on stage and mouthed the words back to you, knowing you couldn’t hear him anymore. You smiled, the sight of him living his dream making your heart melt.

Slim was on the side of the stage closest to you, and had caught the last moments of your intimacy, including Colson’s attention to your stomach. He perked and eyebrow at the sight but shook it off as Colson being into some weird new thing.

 After the show, everyone was hyped up on adrenaline and alcohol. The crew decided to move the party to a nearby club. Colson wanted to take you back to the bus and stay there with you all night, but you made him go. “Colson, I have been in this condition for all of 3 days. I am fine. You just finished the first show of your tour. We,” you pointed between the two of you, “are going out to celebrate, even if that means I can only drink water or pop.”

He rolled his eyes but gave in, letting you drag him down the street towards the rest of your friends. When you got to the club, you grabbed a table with Ash, Irv, Baze, and Slim while Colson took Rook to get drinks for everyone.

When the pair got back, they started handing out drinks. Colson set a glass of water in front of you, causing the group to raise eyebrows at you two, which you just shrugged off, sipping the water. As much as you would have loved to get wasted with your friends, you knew it would hurt the baby. You tried to act as nonchalant about it as possible, realizing that it was gonna be hard to hide your secret if you got water every time you went out.

This was going to be a long 9 months.

“I wanna dance.” Ashleigh said, grabbing Irv and Rook and dragging them to the floor. You grinned, about to stand up and join them when you felt a hand on your thigh. You turned towards Colson, who was currently stopping you from having fun, giving him a glare.

He shook his head slightly at you, leaning close to you to whisper in your ear. “There’s a lot of people here, I don’t want you to get hurt.”

You sighed and rolled your eyes, whispering back, “can you ease up a little bit, please? I’ll be careful. I want to have a little fun before I’m not able to move at all.”

His face was stern, the two of you having a silent argument with your eyes. You pleaded with him, trying to get him to crack but he just shook his head.

Meanwhile Baze and Slim watched you two, trying to figure out how the hell you were communicating without actually talking. “Is everything okay with you two?” Slim asked, pulling your attention to the two men.

You nodded, smiling, “yeah, we’re great.”

Baze cocked his head, “you sure? Because he’s” he pointed at Colson, “acting like you’re pregnant or something.”

You felt Colson’s hand on your thigh tighten, his entire body stiffening. You giggled, trying to play off the comment. Baze started laughing the moment he saw Colson’s expression, which you turned to see was like a deer caught in headlights. Slim’s eyes went wide, “holy shit, for real? Congrats guys!”

You laughed, rubbing Colson’s shoulder, “good job, babe. You did a great job at keeping this between us.”

He looked down at you with a sheepish expression, “sorry, I thought we were being subtle.” He mumbled and you laughed.

“Cols, I was being subtle. You were acting like I was gonna die if someone so much as touched me.” Slim and Baze chuckled at this, and you turned to explain. “We found out for sure yesterday and didn’t want anyone to get freaked out or throw off the tour or anything. So, Colson here,” your head nodded towards your boyfriend, “thought we could keep it a secret for now.”

He frowned, his friends still laughing at him. “Dude, you are the worst secret keeper ever, man.” Baze said. “It took one push and you cracked.” You giggled, nodding your head in agreement. “But seriously, congrats guys.”

“Thanks, B.” You said, “but listen, both of you. If anyone on this tour tells me what I can and can’t do because I’m pregnant, I’ll cut their dick off.” The two boys nodded in understanding.

“Am I really that bad at keeping secrets?” Colson asked, still upset that he spilled.

You giggled and nodded, “Yeah, darling. You are.”

[unbridgeabledistances]

a ✨drunk and clingy ian✨ one-shot

okay so we all know that saint patrick’s day is a very arbitrary and somewhat meaningless holiday (at least in the u.s. lol)- but we also know that the gallaghers are incredibly fucking irish, so i am using this as an excuse to write some drunk and clingy gallavich fluff (bc i think we all need it!! or at least i do!!!!)

hope y’all enjoy<3

--

Mickey and Ian came in the door from their final weed security run of a way-too-chilly and grey March afternoon, kicking the slush off of their lace-up boots in a tired but comfortable silence. Mickey had been fantasizing for a good part of the afternoon about his usual afternoon ritual of collapsing onto the couch with a cold beer in his hand, and taking a long lazy nap while shitty game shows played on the TV in the background— but unfortunately, Debbie had other plans. Or so he realized when he turned the corner and his eyes were met with a forest of green and white streamers blanketing the living room, with Debbie determinedly balancing on a kitchen chair to hang them in the doorway.

Mickey did a double-take, shooting a glance at Ian and then back at the festive room again. What the fuck? He quickly racked his brain— there was no way he’d could’ve forgotten Franny’s birthday, that was in the summer—and he was pretty sure that Liam’s birthday was in the winter sometime; so whose the fuck was it? Too many goddamn Gallaghers to keep track of. Finally, Mickey admitted his own defeat.

“Is it someone’s fuckin’ birthday or something?”

Mickey flashed another gaze to Ian in confusion as he said it, hoping that Ian would silently mouth whatever the occasion was to him, or at the very least raise his eyebrows and goad Mickey enough to jog his memory to remember whatever the fuck today was— but Ian just gave an easygoing grin as he took in the room’s decor and let out a laugh.

“Debbie, isn’t this kind of going overboard?”

Debbie looked over her shoulder from where she was now taping a crudely scribbled picture of a shamrock, most likely drawn by Franny, up onto the wall.

“What? If it’s our last Saint Patrick’s Day in the house, the least we can do is go out with a bang,” she answered nonchalantly, and continued fixating on hanging up Franny’s drawing.

Mickey inadvertently let out a scoff and rolled his eyes. Fucking Gallaghers.

“I’m sorry, fucking Saint Patrick’s Day?”

Ian’s lips formed a playful smile and he elbowed Mickey between the ribs. “Yeah, Mick, Saint Patrick’s Day— also known as the unironically most important day of the Gallagher family calendar year. I can’t believe I forgot it was today, with all the work stuff we had going on.”

At first Mickey couldn’t tell if Ian was actually being serious— but in the same second he decided that it didn’t really matter, since Ian’s eyes were bright and shining and there was this weird giddy grin he was sporting from ear to ear, like he was absolutely fucking delighted that it was Saint Patrick’s Day, instead of just a normal goddamn Wednesday. Fucking softie.

And as endearing as that was, Mickey still couldn’t let him off that easily. “There’s no way I’m celebrating Saint Patrick’s Day. It’s a fake holiday for yuppie rich kids to go bar hopping—I’m not getting involved in any of your Gallagher bullshit.”

Ian’s grin just grew, like he knew exactly what Mickey was doing. “Hey, you married into this family. If anything, this is your own fault.”

Mickey just rolled his eyes, then continued to unlace his boots and throw them by the doorway.

“The fuck do you do anyways, aside from getting trashed?”

Ian put a hand on Mickey’s upper back to steady himself as he pulled his own shoes off. “I think getting trashed pretty much sums up the festivities. Today’s practically a holy day of observance for Frank, and I’m assuming Debbie’s also just gonna use today as an excuse to get drunk on a Wednesday.”

“Hell yeah I am!” Debbie called from where she was putting the chair back in the kitchen.

Mickey raised his eyebrows. “I knew Gallaghers were white trash, but I had no idea you were this bad.”

“Oh, come on. You don’t have any Ukranian white trash holidays or whatever?”

Mickey held back a bitter laugh. Yeah, they had “holidays,” in the form of days when Terry was celebratorily drunk enough to leave them the fuck alone for 24 hours, rare occasions when his looming shadow was out of the house and a festive lightness bled in in its place. They sort of celebrated Christmas, which was mostly just associated with too many painful memories of Terry ripping open the presents before he or his brothers had the chance, and too many painful stings associated with him having one too many drinks as they sat quietly inside the sagging house and pretended to be a big happy family for one night a year.

But never anything as gaudy and deliberate and ridiculous as observing a C-list, Irish-American holiday just for the hell of it, just for fun—which yes, was probably fueled by Frank’s alcoholism more than anything else, but also made something swell in Mickey’s insides that he didn’t quite know how to place.

And Mickey didn’t know how to let out that entire internal monologue to Ian while Debbie was standing within earshot. “Nah, man. Milkoviches don’t really do… holidays.”

Ian snaked a hand around Mickey’s back, giving his shoulder a squeeze, a grounding touch. He gets it.

“Well, get ready to have your mind blown, Mr. Gallavich, because we’re about to celebrate this hallowed occasion Gallagher style.”

Mickey rolled his eyes again, but let himself lean into Ian’s touch, lean his weight ever-so-slightly against Ian’s chest that was pressed behind him by the doorway. And, okay— as stupid as this was, maybe there was something sort of warm and solid about tradition, about hand-scribbled shamrocks and streamers on the wall, about having days to celebrate just because you wanted to, just because you could…

Just then Franny came hurdling into the room, wearing a baggy green t-shirt and a face-painted shamrock adorning her cheek.

Ian’s face lit up when she stopped in front of them. “Hey Franny! Happy Saint Patrick’s Day!”

Franny held out two bottles of beer to Ian and Mickey from where she had been hiding them behind her back.

“Mommy said I should give these to you when you came home!”

Mickey smirked, carefully taking the bottles from Franny’s outstretched hands. “Thanks, kiddo.”

And if all celebrating Saint Patrick’s Day took was knocking down a few beers on a weekday afternoon—well, Mickey wasn’t going to complain about that.

**

Of course, hours later Mickey realized how severely he’d underestimated Debbie’s enthusiasm— after lounging around the house waiting for the stream of Gallaghers to trickle in from their various daily activities, Debbie had rounded everyone up and they migrated to the Alibi as the sun was setting, where they’d met up with Kev and V and Lip and Tami, who (thank fucking god) looked as vaguely confused and fully apathetic about this whole “Saint Patrick’s Day” situation as Mickey did.

Now it was late, and Mickey was leaning against the bartop of the Alibi sipping a thick, foamy glass of Guinness, which was as close to embracing whatever-the-fuck Irish heritage his husband had as he was possibly going to get.

All of the Gallaghers were here, swirling around the room—Debbie had put on some sort of peppy music as Kev poured everyone drinks, and a couple of other Southside neighbors had heard the bass thrumming and joined the ruckus. The room wasn’t too crowded, but it was pleasantly full of bodies and chatter— Kev had bought bunches of shiny, tacky green mardi gras beads for everyone to wear, and the air in the room was festive and bordering on sloppy in a way that felt very different from how Mickey had envisioned this evening would go.

Mickey was pacing himself, because it was a Wednesday for fuck’s sake— but his husband was an entirely different story. Between the beers at home and the various drinks Debbie had been siphoning into his hands all night, Ian was teetering on the drunkest Mickey had seen him in years—which partially made the tiniest spark of trepidation start to creep into Mickey’s bloodstream, a spark that he immediately extinguished. It was one night, the first in a long time— Ian deserved to have some fun.

And he definitely, definitely was having fun— casually dancing with Debbie and Sandy and whoever else would humor him, grinning with red-hot cheeks and bright eyes— from across the room Mickey could tell how warm his skin would be if he pressed a hand against it, how flushed. Mickey wasn’t really in the mood for dancing, or whatever the fuck stumbling around and chatting and making friends Drunk Ian was up to for the evening, and he was perfectly content to nurse his drink at the bar— which is why it surprised him when Ian pulled himself out of the crowd, slightly stumbling over his own feet, and made the way across the room to where Mickey was leaning at the bar, immediately boxing him in and putting his hands square on Mickey’s waist. Mickey almost imperceptibly let in a sharp breath.

Ian looked down at him, all smiles and shiny eyes— when he spoke the scent of sweet, hot liquor danced on Mickey’s face and all he wanted was to be closer, to breathe it in.

“Are you having fun?” Ian’s right hand traced up Mickey’s side, then back down to its hold on his hipbone.

Mickey raised his eyebrows. “You and your leprechaun family don’t mess around, Gallagher.”

Ian smiled a lazy, tipsy smile, and pecked Mickey’s cheek before Mickey could be embarrassed about it.

“D’you wanna dance with me?”

Ian’s hands slid off of his hips and entangled with Mickey’s hands that had been hanging limply at his sides, walking backwards so their fingers were laced together an arm’s distance apart.

Mickey shrugged noncommittally. “I’ll leave showing the Irish pride to you and the rest of the drunken Gallaghers.”

Ian registered Mickey’s words and opened his mouth to reply, just as Debbie pulled Ian over by the arm.

“Stop sulking with Mickey and do more shots with me!”

Jesus Christ. Ian was going to be wrecked when their alarm went off for work in the morning, and Mickey was starting to debate if he was going to need to have a talking-to with Debbie about the appropriate amount of “Saint Patrick’s Day fun” they were allowed to partake in next year— but for now Ian was happy, and he could stomach one night of hardcore festivities.

Mickey stood at the bar for a while, watching Ian and Debbie get progressively more flushed as they bobbed through the crowd— and then, when Debbie had found some other victim in their mid-twenties to get even more shitfaced with, Ian made his way across the room to Mickey again, plopping onto the barstool beside him and heaving his bodyweight onto Mickey’s left side, burying his face in the crook of Mickey’s neck. Mickey wrapped a tentative arm around Ian’s waist, trying to hold him up from slouching off of the barstool.

“M’tired.” Mickey could feel Ian’s hot breath dancing on his collarbone as he slurred out the words, and felt Ian’s eyelids flutter shut against the side of his neck.

Ian was always giving Mickey measured casual touches, wherever they were—but it was so exceedingly rare that Ian fully let himself go like this, let himself be drunk and happy and just crumple into Mickey, without worrying about holding anyone else up. It felt new, but it felt good— Mickey let the solid weight of his husband’s body leaning against his press him down, rooting him into the Alibi’s sticky floors, feeling the clammy skin of Ian’s forehead that was solidly lodged into the side of Mickey’s neck.

He hated to admit it, but in that moment, something in Mickey was also frozen solid— as much as Mickey had grown in the past few years, something about these situations, about PDA or whatever, still made Mickey feel like he was treading water—like he was fighting to stay afloat while everyone’s eyes were on him, and the strong current was only lifted when he and Ian were in the dark safety of their bedroom. If Mickey was drunk at a bar and sloppily leaning onto Ian, there was no doubt in Mickey’s mind that Ian would hold him, would gingerly touch him and caress him and do more to him than just prop him up— but something in Mickey still hesitated and flashed with warning signs in a crowded room full of people.

But Ian was still breathing hot on Mickey’s neck— so Mickey thought about what Ian would do, if it was Mickey who was tipsy and slumped on his shoulder. He tentatively raised his arm from where it was lying limply by his side, and started to run soothing circles onto Ian’s t-shirt, just above his hipbone where Mickey’s hand was holding Ian up by his waist.

Ian hummed in acknowledgement of the touch— and then he pressed a tender kiss to the crook of Mickey’s neck, where his face was buried. Fuck. Mickey just pulled him in closer, gently tugging Ian’s torso in by his belt loop to hold him steady.

Ian hummed again, then started to press kisses up and down Mickey’s neck. “You smell good.”

Mickey’s heart started to beat a little quicker, his blood running hotter than usual—and Ian couldn’t fucking do this now, while the rest of his family was milling around and dancing and wearing fucking mardi gras beads while flaunting their Gallagher pride.

Ian lifted his forehead off of Mickey’s shoulder, and gently bit at the underside of Mickey’s jaw—and Mickey thought he was going to combust right there, on the spot, in a room full of Gallaghers pressed against the bartop at the Alibi by his very drunk husband.

And in an act of excruciatingly inconvenient timing, Lip sidled up to the bar and sat on the barstool on Mickey’s other side, nursing what Mickey assumed (and hoped) was a diet Coke in a beer glass.

“Hey there, Mick. And, uh, Ian.”

Ian looked up from where he was very engrossed in continuing to nuzzle the opposite side of Mickey’s neck, and glared at Lip from across Mickey’s chest.

“Go away, Lip.” Ian collapsed his head back onto Mickey’s shoulder and closed his eyes again, wrapping his arms around Mickey’s neck like a fucking boa constrictor. Mickey snaked an arm up around Ian’s back, holding him steady on the wobbly barstool.

Lip held back a laugh as he sipped his drink, then took a drag of the cigarette he was holding. “Seems like Ian’s done enough drinking to make our ancestors proud.”

Mickey took a sip of his own beer with his free hand. “Debbie made sure of that.”

Lip raised his eyebrows. “Damn. Guess we’d better keep an eye on her, make sure she doesn’t also have the Frank gene.”

Mickey grunted in acknowledgement, then took another sip of his beer, mostly because he didn’t know what else to say. Ian’s head shifted slightly on his shoulder— and Mickey realized he probably needed to haul Ian home ASAP, before he was even more sleepy and incoherent and unable to lug down the street.

Lip noticed Ian’s movement on Mickey’s shoulder and smirked. “I’ve gotta say, I’ve never seen Ian being this clingy before. Even with other guys—no offense, Mick— he usually stayed pretty contained. And you guys aren’t usually too into the PDA department.”

Mickey shrugged, trying not to jostle the heavy weight of where Ian’s head was hanging. Lip was right—he and Ian never really were all over each other, especially not like this, outside of the context of their room, when they were very much always all over each other.

Lip kept studying them, and the corner of his mouth eventually ticked upward. “It’s good. He’s definitely not this… comfortable with anyone else. Including me, which is definitely saying something.”

It felt weird, to get something like what felt like Lip’s full blessing at a raunchy Gallagher party months after he and Ian had gotten married—but that was also exactly what it felt like was happening.

Lip’s eyes suddenly darted across the room, to where Tami was holding up his coat and gesturing to the door. Lip rose from the barstool, stubbed out his cigarette, and put out a hand to clap Mickey on the shoulder as a goodbye.

“Catch up with you later, Mick.” Lip reached out and jokingly tousled Ian’s hair. “Make sure this one doesn’t hate himself too much tomorrow morning.”

Mickey smirked. Ian was practically asleep and drooling on his shoulder, his breathing turned steady—Mickey reached a hand up to card through his hair, then gently shrugged his shoulder to get Ian’s head to rise from where it was jammed on his neck.

Ian raised his head, his eyes bleary and confused at first, then softening around the edges when he met Mickey’s gaze.

“Alright, let’s get you home, carrottop.”

[ithebookhoarder]

My Girl: (Letty Cruz x F!Reader)

Description: You weren’t a Mayan but that didn’t make you any less terrifying when you were mad - especially when it had something to do with your girlfriend. You loved Letty to hell and back and weren’t afraid of knocking a few biker heads together to make it clear that to mess with her was to mess with you too. (Set season 3)

A/N: Y’all should have known as soon as I realised season 3 of Mayans was now available in the UK that my heart was gonna be consumed all over again. Besides, it’s never too late for a pride prompt. 

Warnings: Swearing, alcohol, mentions of drugs, my attempts at Spanish, violence. (Let me know if I missed any)

Masterlist:

-----

“Y/N. Stop. You don’t have to do this.”

“Letty, just stay outside. I’ll be quick.”

“No, wait,” she pleaded, her hand grasping onto your arm as you tried to march past her and into the Mayan clubhouse in front of you.

Her grip was weak and you could’ve broken free if you’d wanted, but you knew Letty well enough to hear her out. The last thing you wanted was to upset the girl who had basically stolen your heart. She’d had a long enough day at the clubhouse and all you wanted to do was drive her back to your place and forget about everything else, which was the normal plan when you picked her up like this. However, given what she’d told you lately, seeing her upset when you’d arrived had all but tipped you over the edge.

Apparently Coco had bitten her head off when she’d asked if he was coming home or not that night. You hated how upset she’d sounded over the phone when she’d called you to vent and ask you to come pick her up so she didn’t have to wait or go home with him instead.

So, yeah, your temper had got the better of you. You were only human and you’d do anything for the girl you loved. Even if it meant marching in to a den of bikers and ripping her dad a new one.

“I… I really appreciate you wanting to do this, Y/N but I don’t want you to get caught in the middle of this shit, ok? Coco and I need to talk but you don’t need to get dragged in to this. It’s my problem, not yours.”

“Your shit is my shit, Letty. You’re my girlfriend. Come on. That’s how this works,” you replied sharply, your temper clear in the trembling of your hands. “So it’s ok he keeps stealing your shit? I’m supposed to let that slide and let him keep making you upset? He keeps taking his mood swings out on you because he got himself hooked on drugs and I��� I love him too, Letty. He’s been real kind to me since he found out about us but… I can’t just let him keep doing this to you.”

Letty’s face fell and she released your arm. Either your words had got through to her or she decided it wasn’t worth the effort. If you wanted to do something then usually nothing could stand in your way. “I just… don’t hit his face, please? He just got over the surgery shit with his eyes and stuff.”

You would have laughed but knew better, as Letty all but gave you her blessing. Now it was time to have a word with her so called father and the missing iPods and iPads your girlfriend had told you about.

You nodded. “Ok, I’ll make sure not to hit his eye.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

Letty was quick to place a kiss to your cheek as you took her hand and headed inside. To your relief, Coco was sat right in front of you at the bar. You didn’t have to look hard to find him as it was also pretty quiet for a weekday afternoon. Maybe that was why everyone inside looked up at you as you opened your mouth and yelled his name.

“We need to talk. Now. Outside.”

“Letty? Y/N? What the fuck you doing here?” He seemed oddly calm as he glanced up over the top of his beer. Maybe he was high or maybe he was just stupid enough to think you wouldn’t actually try anything in the middle of the Mayan clubhouse… either way, it was his mistake. A mistake he quickly became aware of as you let go of Letty’s hand and marched towards him.

A soft ‘ooooo’ echoed from the others dotted about the room, laughing as they watched Coco shrink back from a rather short pissed off looking girl. You swore you even heard Angel muttering something about getting ready to dig a grave for you to dump his body in when you were finished with him.

He’d be lucky if there was anything left to bury.

“I said outside Coco! Or I can just do this in here, in front of all your little friends. It’s your choice. Either way I’m good.”

“Now wait a fucking second, I don’t owe you nothing so quit trying to be some big shot-”

Coco didn’t get to finish his sentence. 

In fact, he was cut off by you smacking the beer bottle out of his hand, sending it to the floor where it suddenly shattered in a spray of beer and glass pieces.

“The hell?!”

“You getting hooked on drugs is your problem, Coco. Yours. Not your daughter’s, so stop taking shit from her to buy whatever the hell you’re craving every night and stop taking your temper out on her,” you hissed, uncaring how he towered over you as he suddenly jumped to his feet. 

You weren’t scared of him. Not when he looked as terrible as he did, pale skinned and clammy. It looked as if one strong push would send him crashing on to his ass which, whilst satisfying, wasn’t what you came here for. You didn’t want to upset Letty anymore than she already was. You were here to make a point and get the hell out. 

“Else I’ll be back and next time, I’ll beat the shit out of your junkie ass. Comprendé?”

Coco was silent.

The entire room was silent.

In fact, from the shocked faces around the room, you were pretty sure you could have heard a pin drop. However, you stood your ground, waiting until Coco gave you a weak nod to say that he understood you loud and clear. 

You took that as your cue to turn around and link your arm with Letty’s, pressing another kiss to her cheek as she lead you back outside, muttering something about your protective rage looking rather sexy on you.

“Who knew you could be so hot when you’re angry? Remind me not to piss you off again any time soon.”

“Oh stop it.”

“My hero,” she teased, making you roll your eyes in embarrassment. “I honestly think he just shat himself. Ez looked like he was ready to whoop him too.”

“Well, he deserved it.”

“And I don’t deserve you.”

She took the words right out of your mouth as you turned, silencing her with a proper kiss - one that would make it perfectly clear you didn’t believe that for a second. One that would also make it clear to anyone watching from inside the clubhouse that you were head over heels for the girls in your arms and to hurt her was akin to declaring war.

It didn’t take a kutte or a pair of fancy wheels to make you tough.

Letty was the best thing in your life and you were gonna keep on reminding her for as long as she’d let you. This wasn’t the first time you’d stood up for her and you knew it wouldn’t be the last.

“Can we go home now, babe?”

“Sounds perfect to me.”

[writing-in-april]

Dr Jekyll or Mr. Hyde (3/?)

Part three: the gift

Spencer Reid x Female Reader

Summary: The next meeting rolls around and Reader tries to get Spencer to open up in baby steps. Turns out he was more willing to let her in than she first expected.

Part One, Part Two

Series Masterlist

A/N: Heyyy this is my third part for Dr. Jekyll or Mr. Hyde!!! It’s also the fifteenth installment of my 30 fics in 30 days for April event! The plot is finally about to pick up y’all!!!! I’ve got so many plans where this series is headed (though I don’t know necessarily where it’s going to end) and I’m really excited!!! This chapter brings in other references from non gothic literature as well which was fun to do- these references and metaphors are really fun to craft. I’m curious to see y’all’s reaction to this part- leave me an ask if you want here (I promise I won’t bite 🧛🏻‍♀️) Thanks for reading and hope y’all enjoy!!

Warnings: 18+, Smut, Soft dom Spencer that turns back into slightly mean dom Spencer, Public sex, Masturbation (F), Oral sex (M receiving), Face fucking, Reader has a nickname- I think that’s it let me know if there needs to be anything else

Main Masterlist Word Count: 4.1k 😱

A meeting of the classics was once again scrawled on the whiteboard when you entered the library. It had the usual time 7pm to 11:30pm written right underneath. Instantly you fell down the rabbit hole and into another world, reality was turned on its head whenever you opened those wooden doors. Every encounter you had in the shelves, in the reading rooms, and even at the information desk seemed like you were walking into a world crafted by a surrealist. Everything was just slightly twisted and turned to feel slightly off from the reality outside those doors. It oddly made you feel more at home than your own apartment.

Each time a meeting rolled around you’d get an email notification a few weeks prior, informing you as to what the theme would be. The book club was already more extravagant than any other you had ever heard before, adding to the surrealist nature of where you were located. Last time was a somewhat lavish affair, this time it was coated in fleeting luxury.

Sure, the 1920s theme with the undeniable tinge of influence from The Great Gatsby would always lend itself to luxury, even with cheap decorations. But, the way the decor around you almost felt real told you exactly what your monthly entrance fee was going towards. You could complain about the steep price of admission, it could burn a hole into your wallet if you weren’t so careful. At any rate it did not matter, you were sure they wouldn’t care if you complained, and besides this was the only thing you really every splurged on. Plus there was the added aspect of the person you would no longer be able to indulge in if you let your membership lapse.

It was nice to treat yourself, get a taste of what it would be like to live basking in luxury 24/7. Flutes of champagne were passed around like hot cakes, admittedly they were non alcoholic after an incident a few months prior before you joined with some whiskey. It could have been a rumor fed to you by some of the vapid attendees to stir the pot so the library may cave to make their guests happy. You were going to keep your mouth shut because truth be told you didn’t mind that they were non alcoholic. You wanted to be sober for this. You wanted to be sober for Spencer.

Normally whenever a meeting rolled around you’d gladly be mingling with everyone around you. Even if personally you viewed some of their insights on whatever book they wished to discuss as shallow, seeing another’s perspective was always intriguing.

Something, namely someone, lurking in the shadows had your attention instead. It felt strikingly similar to the night of your first encounter, his eyes piercing into you, undressing you with them. The only thing that had changed is that you knew his name with some small added details. You didn't even know what type of Doctor he was, let alone what kind of man he was. But, you hoped tonight might change your prospects.

You had gotten a peek underneath the mask each time, just enough to pull you in closer. Whatever might lurk beneath, which still may be dangerous, for right now made you thrum with excitement. Spencer was just as surreal to you as the rest of the library, though he was definitely more shadowy than the others. It wouldn’t surprise you if he wasn’t real outside of here.

He could possibly just be a ghost trapped to roam the halls that instead of wanting to scare you, pleasured you. It was a silly thought for sure, but until he divulged more you struggled to convince yourself that he was real, even though his touch certainly did. The world was very different outside the library’s doors and you’d be content to be locked inside of it, that is if Spencer opened his own doors.

You circled each other for a while, neither of you talking to anyone, just staring with lust in your eyes. Tired of this cat and mouse game that you were unwilling to break out of stubbornness, he set down an empty ‘champagne’ flute to weave through the crowd to meet you.

No small talk or pleasantries came out of his mouth when he started your first conversation of the night, “At least you fit the theme this time.”

He had gestured to the dress you had chosen, a simple fringed red dress that very obviously was inspired by the era. It definitely gave you a sense of allure that leaned dark along with your dark lipstick, giving you your own cloak of mystery to match Spencer’s. At least there was a cloak for everyone else; Spencer could read you like an open book even with all your secrets. Spencer just had the ability to speed read them faster than any other human.

There was still depth to you, seemingly boundless, and certainly much more than the staple embodiment of a 1920s woman at a party being eyed at by man. You were no Daisy Buchanan that’s for sure, and Spencer was no Gatsby from what you have seen.

“As I told you last time I did fit the theme, Spencer.” You kept your lips shut tight about the fact that you had partially chosen this dress for him, picking a much more historically accurate style within your budget. Skating around the topic with ease you then teased, “Was that your way of complimenting my dress?”

“No…” That definitely meant yes, just by going off of the way he eyed your curves.

“At least you have it easy, you only have to throw on a suit, which is boring.” He snorted at that and didn’t disagree with your stinging jab at men’s fashion.

“That’s true, I don’t think I would want to see you in a boring suit, Shelley.” Inching closer to you so he possessively put a hand on your waist. He was close enough now that you could feel his breath on the exposed skin on your neck, a shiver trickling down your spine at that. His next words had a different reaction from you, your panties getting damp immediately after, “A dress has easier- access.”

The conversation turned from your typical banter into innuendos covered in mystery just like you both, with Spencer’s not being an act like you were trying to put on. You could let him do whatever he wanted to you again, which you thoroughly enjoyed, but there was a lingering fantasy you hadn’t voiced that had been in your head since he pinned you against the shelves.

“You didn’t let me reciprocate last time.” You whispered into his ear, your dirty intentions hidden by innocent words. The people around you had no idea what was going on, still milling about while you leaned in closer, only a few people looking over at you both curiously before moving on. Your next move was bold, wrapping your hand around his tie to pull him in closer, so you could keep your request a secret for his ears alone, “Will you allow me to return the favor?”

By the way his face twisted up at your words you knew you were testing a limit. All of your encounters thus far had been him touching you, not you touching him.

“Thought you would have forgotten about that by now.” This was his attempt to change the subject, to move on and expect that you’ll drop it just like him.

Everyone you knew called you stubborn for a reason, gripping his tie even harder you then doubled down, “Will you let me?”

It was highly unlikely that you were going to get a verbal response to your request, most likely you were about to get rejected, hard. You had tested your limits throughout your small time together. This however was entirely different and potentially over the line as to what Spencer would willingly allow.

Instead of shutting you out and shutting down he surprised you by opening his mouth to form the word, “Yes.”

With that you started to tug him out of the room, discreetly of course to not attract any unwanted attention and you didn’t pull him by his tie. Your fingers were wrapped around his wrist delicately, his first taste of you touching him while you guided him to a spot for your clandestine affair.

Your eagerness made you too impatient to wait and find a better secluded spot away from the crowd. The corner you chose was beyond risky to say the least, only a wall separating the both of you and the club guests. If you were lucky and went quickly you’d avoid being caught.

You wondered how long it had been since someone had offered to do this for him, instead of him probably forcing them to their knees while he continued to control the encounter with their consent. His steadfast control over each time he touched you had never wavered up until this point.

“You tell me if you want me to stop.”

He gulped hard, giving you a look like he was considering stopping you. Ultimately he kept his mouth shut, letting you drop to your knees and begin to unbutton his slacks. You worked quickly, unsure how much time you had without being caught in this little corner barely off to the side you chose or how long Spencer would let you touch him with impunity.

You hadn’t been able to really get a good look at his cock, either you had been facing away from it or it was trapped in the confines of the slacks he always wore. When you freed him from his boxers you could not help but admire it, even if only for a second.

Beautiful was an odd way to describe a cock, but there was no other word you could really find in the moment while you were on your knees. He was already hard, even leaking at the tip, and all from a few teasing words from your mouth. You’d have to test your affect on him more in the future, it obviously excited him.

When you held it in your hands and licked him from his base to tip, he had to bite on his fist at the suddenness of your touch. You pumped him a few times languidly before bringing the head to your lips and letting it slip into your mouth. He was allowing you to explore without fear of any repercussions. His hand that now rested at the back of your head being the only signal that he could take back the control anytime he wanted.

When you began to bob your head a wave of new precum hit your tongue. The taste of Spencer on your tongue was to put it lightly, intoxicating, you’d be content to taste him everyday if he let you.

Hoping too much would be your downfall if you let it, you pushed it out of your mind so you could be content with the baby steps forward you were taking. This right here, was him being vulnerable, even with you on his knees. You’d have to tread carefully if you wanted another crack in his mask to see even his darkest features, not a chink in his armor that would have him running away injured.

You weren’t sure what made the energy shift in the corner you were on your knees in, you suspected it was the soft caress of your hand along his thigh. He clammed up, suddenly wanting to take back control of the situation, no longer content with being vulnerable. It was quite clear to you that he saw giving up his control as a moment of weakness, just by going off of the once content look on his face that had twisted and seized up in frustration. Whatever he would let you do to him or whatever he wanted to do to you would always leave you wet with desire. It would however, be a lie to say that you didn’t want to see him back in a similar position one day. Getting him to be vulnerable for any extended period of time, even if it was while you were on his knees for him in a typical position for submission, was a form of progress. A little bit twisted, yes, but it still was progress.

Control fell back easily into his hands, now wasn’t the time to fight him on it; you’d be a good girl for now. The hand that had been resting gently on the back of your head tightened its grip to start controlling the pace.

You let your hand let go of his cock, resting them both on his thighs now instead. Your eyes were glassy as you tried to meet his sable irises while he began to thrust into your mouth. All you could really see was his Adam’s apple bobbing, curls falling as his head tipped back with his jaw slack. At first his thrusts had tested the waters, to see how much you could take. They then became more forceful when you gripped his thighs through his slacks and tried to pull him close.

The corner you had pulled him into was more exposed than any previous dalliance. Last time, even though it was out in the open, the stacks of shelves piled high with books shielded you along with his body pinned on top of yours. In comparison, this time you could hear the people laughing and mingling about in the next room over.

That only made you keen, moaning around him softly when you heard someone start a conversation close to the shared wall. Spencer, ever astute to your actions, picked up on what had you moaning around him. He forced your head down as far as you could go, your nose almost nuzzling the hairs at his base. He held you there harshly for a moment while he spoke, “You like it when we’re close to getting caught don’t you? That’s why you chose this spot isn’t it? You aren’t just satisfied with sneaking around, you want to get caught doing it.”

Before you could confirm or deny his questions you had to pull off of him so you could catch your breath. A string of spit connected from your mouth to the top of his cock remained unbroken until he brought his thumb to your mouth so you could continue to suck on something. He bent down to look at you, inspecting your makeup melted by tears and your spit covered lips. When he then moved his thumb from out of your mouth to grip your cheeks hard you whimpered, wondering what you did wrong, “Answer my questions.”

You scrambled to answer to avoid any type of punishment. You couldn’t make him feel good the way you wanted to if he was angry at you. Trying to muster up some conviction failed as your answer still came out shaky, “Y-yes! I-I liikeee it, Doctor!”

Satisfied with your answer and the amount of time your break had been he let go of the grip on your cheeks to resume. He slipped back inside your mouth swiftly, seeing no need to start out slow again. This time when you looked up, you found him meeting your irises with his own making you squirm underneath his piercing gaze.

“Touch yourself, we don’t have time for both of us.” With any other man you would have been irritated because mostly likely they were unwilling to finish a girl off. Spencer however, had proven he was consistently capable of that from you two previous interactions. He was also right, the place you had chosen was going to be flooded with people soon as they left the party. It was around this time that a group of people got bored and left which you didn’t understand. Why would they pay the money if they were just going to leave early?

You maneuvered your hands underneath the fringed edge of your dress, then bypassing your panties by pushing them to the side. There was no need to tease yourself, sucking off Spencer had you soaking through your flimsy lace panties. You pushed two of your fingers inside your entrance, curling them to deliciously hit at that sweet spot inside you. Even though you were enjoying the way he fucked your face in combination with you touching yourself, your fingers didn’t feel as euphoric as Spencer’s long fingers that could pull an orgasm out of you in seconds.

Spencer was nearing his release, his hips stuttering as it came closer. More tears prickled at the corner of your eyes out of frustration that you were having trouble reaching the edge with your own fingers. Spencer of course saw your frustration and began to coax you to the edge,

“Come on Shelley I know you can do it, I know you can make yourself cum for me.” Spencer’s words weren’t nearly as good as your fingers, but it did help that final push towards the edge. Falling over the edge together was a heady feeling, pleasure sparking through your veins while Spencer filled your mouth. You focused on swallowing it all down as best as you could, only a bit escaping the sides of your mouth.

When it was all said and done Spencer tucked himself back into his boxers, then rebuckling the belt holding his slacks up. He then outstretched a hand towards you, who was crumpled on the floor looking absolutely ruined. It was a simple gesture, taking his hand so you didn’t wobble on your heels as much. To you however it seemed like a weighted moment, subtly showing that you were willing to take whatever he may give to you.

He then suddenly pushed a book in your hands, which came seemingly out of thin air, only soon after you had cleaned up the corners of your mouth by licking your lips. You had been just about to clean the remnants of your makeup that was streaming down your cheeks with a makeup wipe that had been in your purse. He had other plans, putting the book in your hands and grabbed the wipe from you. He began to use the wipe to clean you off, caressing your cheeks softly this time. His movements were gentle as the cleanser in the cloth, every gentle touch that came directly after the hard made you want to fall into the dark abyss with him. You had almost moved forward to kiss him until he unintentionally stopped you by starting to wipe your smeared lipstick off. Once he was done with that you then looked down at the book he had forced you to take.

“What is this?” Your brows furrowed in question at the unexpected gift. Your relationship had a loose definition, really none at all, to get a gift felt like it was supposed to mean something. He had gifted you something in the past, the nickname you now couldn’t seem to shake, and you supposed the multiple orgasms could be classified as gifts to some.

This felt bigger than that, at least to you. But, how were you supposed to know what his train of thought was when you didn’t know anything about him. Most of what you did know contradicted each other anyway. There was no way to predict a man who had two distinct sides of him, neither of which he’d divulge more than surface level information about.

“I thought it was quite obvious, it’s a book.” His nonchalant response through you for a loop, causing you to stammer a bit. However, he did not let you form a complete thought, steamrolling you with sudden excitement, “An old copy of Frankenstein to be exact, Shelley.”

Looking down you traced your fingers over the spine on the vintage book. You weren’t sure how old the book was, you’d have to check that later. It wasn’t that you didn’t see the potential value in owning an old edition of a book, but the gesture still confused you. Instead of dwelling on a question that you weren’t going to get a straight answer for if you asked, you tried to tease him, “But I have already read it, you know that.”

He took your jab at his listening skills in stride and again was cagey as always with his response, “I do know that, that isn’t why I bought it for you.”

“Why?”

“That is for me to know, and for you to potentially figure out.” He was now moving to leave the corner, about to leave you hanging in the wind scrambling to figure out whatever he was talking about. You scrambled to follow, which caused you to almost crash into him when he abruptly stopped. “I’ll give you a hint, flip to page 56.”

Flipping it open to the page you noticed that it wasn’t a page of any significance, no famous quotes were highlighted or major climactic scenes happening.

“There isn’t anything in here.” Exasperation was evident in your voice, he was too hard to read, certainly not as hard as the book in front of you. His intentions were the hardest to figure out, he could be stringing you along in his web, bringing you closer until he devoured you like a spider with a fly.

The air itself was filled with monsters, more like potential monsters lurking waiting to reveal their intentions. The dark was often desirable, but it would be naive of you to trust it without question. There was still something about Spencer that made you want to blindly trust without question that his monsters had beauty in them. You couldn’t deny that being devoured by him sounded enticing.

“Look again.” And with a fleeting kiss on your lips that he was gone, slipping back into the party like nothing had happened. It left you to wait until he graced you with his presence next with no way to contact him. At least that’s what you thought until you followed his suggestion and looked again.

There, nestled in between two pages of the book rested a strip of paper. The handwriting on it was messy, slanted heavily in one direction and partially smudged as if written rapidly. You could still make out the ten digits written in navy blue ink, your breath caught up in your throat at that.

At the bottom there was a simple dash then right next to it read his name, Spencer. With no titles or anything else written.

The simplicity of his name written sloppy in pen ink made you want to clutch it to your heart in disbelief. The book already was too much, to big a gesture for what was supposed to just be fucking in the library while saying clever things. You wondered if he had thought this through, thinking that by the state of how it was written it was done impulsively without thought. Though you hoped that was just how he always wrote, it would be another small slice of information of who he truly was.

In reality who knows what he was thinking, a mask was still firmly over his face in front of you. It may have had cracks that gave you glimpses at the man underneath, but it would be a lie to say you even knew the slightest bit about him beyond his name. There were some dots you could connect that may lead to somewhere or nowhere. You didn’t even know what his job was, so you weren’t going to pretend that you could properly analyze his handwriting. He could even be lying about every piece of information given thus far, only using it to pull you in quicker by the spider’s silk he was potentially spinning.

All that was still locked up there in his mind, not unlike when Jekyll locked himself up in his laboratory. You only hoped this phone number signaled that he may be willing to open up his mind to you, even with the serum that could turn him into something dark. He could shut you out, insisting that what he had done was a mistake, then sealing the cracks in his mask closed. But, you were too curious for your own good, you wanted to shatter the mask, to pull away the shroud of mystery, to tell you about the monsters lurking. All you had to do was call him, and maybe he’d let the monsters free.

Part One, Part Two

Ask Me Anything

—-

Tag lists (fill this out to join): Strike through means tumblr won’t let me tag you

All works: @shotarosleftpinky @90spumkin @kyra-morningstar @s1utformgg @boxofsparklingmuses @takeyourleap-of-faith All MGG characters: @muffin-cup @willowrose99 @princesssmooshie @peterpanouat @anaagraceeberr @ashcakes1918 @reid-me-a-story Spencer Reid/CM: @calm-and-doctor @destiny-tsukino @safertokiss @slutforthegubes @onlyhereforthefanfics @jareauswifey @princesssmooshie @peterpanouat Dom!Spencer: @rainsong01 @evlfknb @jakobsdump @princesssmooshie @peterpanouat Dr. Jekyll or Mr. Hyde: @rainsong01 @dreatine @secretpickleprofessordean @evlfknb

[kenmasangel]

getting back together after years

synopsis : the get back, part 1 “why am i even with you”

characters : sakusa, tsukishima

genre : fluff

warning : cursing, mention of alcohol

an : sorry for any gramma or spelling mistakes, everytime i’d right it was nighttime and i’d be really tired so i wasn’t able to focus 100%. please notice me of any mistakes masterlist

Sakusa Kiyoomi

years have passed since your break up with sakusa, it was a sad but necessary break up for you to move on and finally glow up

you also realized that the only person you truly ever needed was yourself and you worked hard to be the person you are today

“at the end of the day, men are trash,” you would try to cheer your friend who had a fight with her boyfriend in one of the best clubs of tokyo. “so wipe your tears and come move your hips,”

on the professional side you became tokyo's favorite journalist, sports related; not only because of your looks but also your professionalism and personality

every hot athlete you've ever interviewed tried to get with you, but they always got rejected

on the other hand sakusa joined MSBY Black Jackals; a professional volleyball team in japan's v.league, in the top tier of division 1

yes sir period

he never dated someone else, the break up kinda broke his heart but he'll never admit it

he also became more distant with people lowkey

however, one day your manager called you to tell you about who are you going to interview next

as she mentionned the name of a famous volleyball team you couldn’t stop your mind of thinking about your ex who used to play volleyball

little did you know that he was a part of the team

lmao who gon tell you

when you got back home you decided to do some research about that MSBY team or whatever

...

oh to your surprise when you saw sakusa kiyoomi’s face there

“no shit,” you mumbled to yourself lowkey annoyed

after the brake up you grew stronger and more independent as you put in mind that all men are trash, you didn’t want to go through that steretipycal sad phase where your self confidence would be all crushed. you wanted to remain strong and you learned how to truly love yourself without expecting anything from anyone as you had your own self

period boo

anyway, you kinda had numbed all your feelings, and to see him now made all your memories with him comeback; how you first met, your first kiss, your first dates and that fight

so here you were, in your appartement checking out their previous interviews trying to get all the juice you needed yet your mind would still zone out on his face

“just keep it pro, y/n, he probably even forgot about you, just keep it pro,” you told yourself before turning off your pc

the day of the interview, here we finally are. the MSBY team knew they had an interview with the most appreciated journalist of all times so they got ready.

“do y’all think they’re cute ?” asks atsumu, “if they’re cute you better back off guys, i’m sure i’m going to catch their attention anyway,” he cockily adds flipping his bang and flexing his muscles, no one bothered answering him at this point they were used to him

“they’re here,” their manager clapped in his hands. “don’t forget what i told you guys, they are very influent so don’t mess it up and don’t scare them away,” he looked at atsumu and bokuto who just stuck their tongues out

“good morning,” you greeted all of them and bowed, “i’m l/n y/n, the journalist who’ll interview you today,” you looked at all of them with a poker face. saying that sakusa was surprised would be an understatement; he was in shock, his brain forgot how to function correctly. you followed the others who took you to the room where all the staff would chill, offering you coffee, tea and snacks

sakusa couldn’t keep his eyes off you, seeing you after all these years was like a wave of fresh air; he was relieved to see you successful and blooming, what a beautiful sight he thought when he saw you laughing with his teammates as he got in the room. but at the same time his heart ached him as he remembred what made you two go separate ways and the guilt he tried to hide deep inside him all those years started creeping up again in his chest

“c’mon, it’s just an interview,” he sighed before sitting on a chair behind his team

the interview started and it was going fine, sakusa’s teammates were cool and you had a lot of fun interviewing them. you liked their chaotic energy and it happened for you to match it, they immediately liked you

“y/n-chan,” started atsumu getting close to you, ”would you like to go out with me tonight, we could have dinner together or just grab a drink-”

“okay barry b. benson, you’re not my type sorry,” you stopped him as you pinched his cheek making all his teammates laugh, you got a pout from him but he eventually laughed liking your attitude

“y/n-chan, why don’t you come and have dinner with us tonight?” asked bokuto with sparkles in his eyes, “oooh~ say please we’d love to!” joined him hinata with the same sparkles in his eyes

you akwardly chuckle looking at sakusa then bringing your stare back at them, “i don’t kno-”, “please come, it would be nice,” finally adds sakusa what made you look back at him

you kept staring at each other for  moment before you nodded makinf the three balls of chaotic energy; bokuto, hinata and atsumu scream a ‘yes!’ you exchanged numbers and you went back home

well, that wasn’t too bad you thought to yourself once back at you appartement plopping on your couch

for some reason your heart was beating fast and you damned those feelings you tried to hide and not get rid of for coming back

he was looking as handsome as ever, you were not going to lie

and that look in his eyes... was it regret ?

“as he fucking should,” you shook your head thinking about what he’d said in that fight

but you were young, he probably regrets, “stfu stupid heart,”

you got up and got ready for tonight’s dinner

“keep that poker face y/n, you’re doing great” you said to yourself before getting into the restaurant, you quickly saw hands waving at you, spotting the team and you went to the table. there was a place left next to bokuto and sakusa, just great, you tried hard not to roll your eyes and sat

the diner was going well, you were not bothered by sakusa’s presence, he didn’t talk much anyway and you had fun talking to the others who were really funny, the thing is that everyone got drunk; hinata and bokuto were hugging each other singing the yarichin bitch anthem, atsumu kept saying ‘ya like jazz?’ every time the someone would pass by, you and sakusa were the only ones in a good state. you couldn’t help but laugh at them trying to stop them but you’d eventually fail

“atsumu please stop,” you tried to stop him from getting on the table to ask everyone if they liked jazz, “i won’t unless you tell me ya like jazz, honey,” he wiggled his eyebrows as you couldn’t help yourself from laughing, “i do like jazz now sit down,” you finally said

sakusa kept thinking if he should talk to you or not in the mean time, he couldn’t help but to create two imaginary cases in his mind one for that says ‘yes’ and the other one ‘no’, he finally came back to earth when you sat back down after stopping tsumu from performing a jazz song

“but y/n i swear it’s a good jazz song, it is called... Jailhouse Rock by Elvis Presley,” he grins proud of himself, you stare at him trying to hold your laughter and when you were going to anwser you heared sakusa do it first, “no miya, and make the owl and the tangerine stop crying,” atsumu salutes him and goes to talk to the crying duo

“long time no see, l/n,” he finally says making your heart miss a beat

“never thought i’d see you again sakusa,” you answer, finally looking at him

“glad to see you’re doing well,” he adds. “even tho i wish we’d be on good terms,” you sigh turning your head. “gotta admit i am the one to blame,”

“glad to see you are mature enough to admit your wrongs,” you anwser him sipping on your drink

“i’ve always knew that i was the one who fucked up, y/n... maybe back then i just didn’t have the guts to admit it, nor to try keeping you close to me. i just saw how you were doing better off without me, and i thought it was better to let go even if it did hurt me...” he finally admits

all what you wanted to hear, craved to hear when you broke up with him. you felt some type of way, good memories you had with him flooding your mind and the feelings you’ve once had for the pretty germaphobe

what were you gonna say? were you finally ready to forgive him and move on or stay on your positions and just live like you’ve been living since the brake up

“well... we’re grown ups now, it’s all forgiven and forgotten,” you give him a small smile,

“thank you,” it was then quiet for a brief moment before he finally decided to man up, “i missed you,” he looked down at his plate

wow the butterflies in your tummy, heart and brain went off with no warnings, you stared at him with wide eyes trying to comprehend what on god’s green earth did he just say

did you miss him too ? did you hate him ? were you over the fight ? did you really stop loving him or did you just hide those feelings ?

too many questions yet no answers, as he realized you didn’t answer he mumbled few apologies but you stopped him telling it was fine

“it’s just... it’s been so many years and we didn’t end up on good terms,” you explain

“yeah, no, i totally understand that is normal,” you nodd looking down at your lap. “can i hold your hand?”

“pardon me?”

“can i hold your hand? fuck that y/n, can i have another chance? allow treat you right, to love you deeply. that guilt that built up in me kept growing with the years, and now that you’re finally here i just want one thing as i see your face is to make up for everything, even after years.”

oh wow, you were definitely not expecting that; not from sakusa who wasn’t this expressive with his feelings and especially not after all these years

you held his hand and smiled sincerly at him, “it’ll take me time; to figure out how i feel and to trust you again, but i’d like to give it a chance,” he smiled back, hope filling his eyes

after that night you tried to spend a lot of time together

usually he would be the one to initiate it

he did his best to prove you that you can trust him and that he became a better person for you

your heart would melt everytime he told you about a memory of you together or how he still remembered stuff about you

you were on your guards in the beginning but slowly you began to soften

eventually you got back together, but that’s another story

it took several months but you don’t even know how happy he was

oh and let’s just not talk about the media and how powerful you guys were

anyway you were happy and that’s what matters

Tsukishima Kei

ara ara what we have here

do you know how the life works in a weird way sometimes? a compilation of events that happen by sheer luck, fucking coincidences that are just way out of this world that lead you to bump into that one person even if you don’t want to?

no ? aight sorry

anyway, that is lowkey what life had in store for you and salt shaker man

tsukishima had gotten into that college he wanted to attend

he was happy but he would’ve secretely loved if you were there to share his happiness

oh how little did he know that you got into that college too

ahaha *awkward laughter*

homeboy found it out in a special way, not the best way there is but you know he had to know a way or another

he went to that party with his two roomates who actually lowkey forced him ngl

as he was making his way to the kitchen he heard someone laughing, a laugh he’s heard way too many times but he shook it off thinking about how many people may have the same laughter

“oi y/n, you look hot!” a male’s voice shouted

what ?

there was no way you were there and he decided to make sure by checking out by himself

he was CHOKED when he saw you there

“tell me something i don’t know,” you laughed as you approached the boy who called you. “what’s up hot stuff ?” he said as you were finally next to him

hot stuff? tsukki almost gagged at the horrible name you were just given, yet it was not false that you were indeed ‘hot’; you looked as flawless as ever, you did a 180° change

the sweet, soft, innocent y/n was replaced by the baddest bitch in the motherfucking block he almost didn’t recognize you. he wondered if you stayed together would you have gone through this change an didn’t notice you coming his way

“god, don’t stand in the middle of the- tsukishima ?” you stopped when you saw his face. “you attending a party, what a surprise,” you stood there a hand on your hip

“oh y/n, how are you?” homeboy didn’t know how to act at this point, he awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck

“i’m doing great actually, so did you get into here ? the ‘college of your dreams’,” he could feel the sarcasm in your voice, he also noticed how cold you were

“yeah, thankfully. where’d you go ?”

“oh i go here, the same college as you,” you fake a smile, he feels his heart miss a beat.. or two.“you know sometimes i look back, and i can’t help from noticing that being in a committed relationship didn’t stop me from attending one of the best colleges out there and you, on the other hand who didn’t want anything to do with a relationship got here too,” you spat, obviously you didn’t get to tell him how you felt when you broke up. “good thing i’m not in the same major as you though,” you sighed

“y/n i_,”

“no save it tsukishima, there’s no need to say whatever you want to say. at this point i’ve moved on, i just found it funny to see you here after what you’ve said and how i actually also got here; now i know for sure that you were the problem... and i hated myself thinking it was me,” you scoff. “hope i won’t get to see you often, good luck for the rest,” and with that you left, joining a group of friends who waved for you to join them

needless to mention that he was pissed and heartbroken

he was not expecting that from you, he always saw you as this delicate person whose kindness is infinite

now, oh now he didn’t recognize you

even your voice got more.. mature? cold? idk

anyway after your encounter he directly headed back to his dorm

he couldn’t sleep the whole night rethinking about all what those years with you and what you said, you hated yourself as you thought you were the problem

bravo tsukishima they hate you, he thought to himself

uhm lol so the rest of your college ‘journey’ went without the two of you seeing each other

you were both majoring in different stuff, the campus is huge, y’alls schedules didn’t match and you had different friend groups

yet rarely he would find you at the library at 4am, many empty coffee cans on your table, looking all sleepy with your glasses falling off and your hair in a messy bun

“fucking ass why on god’s poluted earth did i ever want to major in that fucking shit of a topic, couldn’t i do something basic like stripper or something ? ugh fml,” he caught you once in the middle of an existencial crisis

he couldn’t help his lips from twitching upwards and he couldn’t stop the memories of the two of you studying together flooding his mind

he never came close to you tho, especially after what you told him in that party

sad </3

you guys graduated from college fucking finally

congrats folks you did it!

and you thought it was the end of your story

how sweet, how naive

uh-uh baby life decided otherwise and you saw each other years later

in the same company 🤪 

“oi tsukishima-san, don’t forget we have a metting with the new manager in 10,”

how could he forget ? everyone has been talking about this manager for a week

tsukki was respected by all his work mates as he was such a good element what made him get the best promotions and claims from his boss

n e way

he got into the conf room where everyone was seated and took his place waiting for the new manager and the boss to come in, he was clearly annoyed and didn’t want to be there; he just wanted to finish his work on go back home

anyway his attention was brought back by his boss entering the room, “good evening everyone, with no longer introduction let me introduce you to y/l/n y/n your new manager,”

tsukki’s head SNAPPED, he almost broke his neck

tsukiskima.exe has stopped working

you were surprised when your eyes landed on him too but you’re a bad bitch and kept it professional

he couldn’t focus for the rest of the meeting, even tho it was just presentations and basic information for the future collaboration

the meeting ended and everyone went back home, except for you as you stayed in late to work on some stuff

you thought you were alone since it was late, but you were wrong since tsukishima had also stayed in late to finish up whatever file he was asked to analize

this is why you were startled when you heard some noise and a tall figure got out of the office ahead of you

“oh my,” you held your chest and relaxed when you noticed it was tsukishima, “i thought i was alone,”

“staying in late on your first day huh, didn’t know you were still here,” he responded, you noticed how his tone didn’t change from when you first met him in highschool, maybe his voice got a bit more deeper tho

you couldn’t help noticing how good he looked in his suit, it fit him really well. his broad shoulders covered by the dark blue vest, the first few buttons of his white vector shirt opened letting you lowkey see his collarbone

“yea well i’m leaving now, good night,” you quickly say and took your leave, seeing him after all this time was weird and you didn’t know how to feel

you still remember what you said the last time you saw him at that party, you were hurt and you said some things you probably regret by now and you thought that he probably hated your guts and as long as you wanted to be at the top in your  new work you still decided to stay away from him

“ugh what a dumbass,” you whined and slapped the back of your head thinking tsukishima was still in the floor you left him in, but he saw you and his lips twitched upwards

everytime he thinks you can’t look any better you prove him wrong, he thought to himself as he went to his car finally heading back home. after all those years life decided to still play with you guys and put you in the same company, i mean, he wasn’t complaining but he wished it wasn’t awkward between the two of you

you guys started working together, a new journey for the both of you started

he thought you still hated him and that is why he was cold with you :(

so you were both distant with each other and if you ever had to talk it was cold, formal and quick

it’s been a few weeks your collegues had noticed the tension between the two of you

they were lowkey sus of something but didn’t want to butt in

it was physically painful to watch

n e way everything was going more or less smoothly until a new face made an appariction in the company

“my god! what are you doing here?” you hugged the good looking man

“i missed you and i thought that i couldn’t live without you, so i am here to cling,” you pull away and playfully slap his chest. “nah more seriously i am here to get that bag boo,”

“as you should hun, so you’re a trainee huh? i’ll ask them to put you under my supervision,” you wink

“say less,” he flirtily gets close to you

“uhm, sorry to interrupt your i bet very educational discussion but y/l/n, here, the file,” tsukishima butts in out of nowhere, his voice colder than usual and his eyes lowkey darker than usual

“oh thank you,” and he left

“well, that was awkward,” your friend cringes

“shut up, yuuji,” you roll your eyes

“wait wasn’t that tsukishami? sushikima? suspicual tall bitch who broke your heart?” the last attempt made you chuckle

“yes, it is,” you sigh, going through the file. “i can’t believe you still remeber that!”

“miss girl, you were not the one listening at your own self sobbing at how some tall, blonde, salt shaker broke your heart and how you’d want to, and i quote “punch his beautiful face then hug him so tight that i’ll squeeze his organs”,”

you narrow your eyes at him then for quite a while, then you scoff, “i am glad you’re here, dickhead,”

“so am i, headass,” he gives you a sincere smile

yuuji’s presence made things complicated even more

tsukishima didn’t appreciate the new flirty, good looking, lowkey smart trainee who was under your supervision

he was more irritable than usual, he knew he had no right to feel like that but still, he couldn’t help it

everytime he saw you two together working, laughing, grabing lunch together or even just being in the same area it made him want to break walls

but he couldn’t

he also saw how yuuji would flirt with other female collegues and it made him furious; you didn’t deserve that!

deserve what tho lol you and yuuji were friends but since tsukki was blinded by his jealousy or whatever he was feeling he assumes you were a thing or soon to be a thing

dumb mf

anyway

your boss had assigned you an important file to work on

all cool and shit until he mentioned that you had to work with tsukishima

ahaha.......... right

you started working the day after

°3°

it was awkward as fuck ngl, y’all would share max up to 3 words in a matter of 20mins

each one of you was sitting in their side

the tension buddy, the tension!!!!!

idk how you survived

day 2: you slapped some sense in yourself and an old relationship that ended in bad terms shouldn’t affect your work years after

so you started talking more, always pro stuff, but still

kei was the same as yesterday but that didn’t surprise you since he was always like that and you weren’t expecting anything from him except contribute effectively to the work, what he did

day 3: work in progress, nothing less

day 4: same as day 3 except that you stayed in later than the previous days

day 5: yuuji bursted in because he had broought you food, he kissed your temple before he left wishing you good luck. tsukki almost gagged, homie was fuming in rage

day 6:

it was late, everyone had left but you and kei still working on that goddamn file, thankfully he had given enough time to finish the work

“y/l/n, the food is here,” tells you tsukishima as he got back into the office

“thanks, i almost died from hunger,” you get up getting what you ordered

you were eating in silence until tall man decided to speak up, “funny, huh?” you looked at him confused. “how we went to the same highschool, same college and now we are working together,”

you just let an “oh” thinking about what you told him in that frat party, “i guess you were right, i was the problem,”

“tsukishima look, it’s been years and it’s all forgotten now okay?” he looks at his food, his mind elswhere

“remember what you told me in that party?”

“tsuki-”

“i mean, now that we’re grown ups we can talk about it, right? i feel like i didn’t get closure, not like i deserve it but still,8

you just nodd and go sit in front of him

“well, i lashed out on you on that party because i didn’t get closure, i was obviously still hurt and petty and immature. Seeing you there was like a slap in the face, i really want to apologize but i feel like what i said was true,”

“and it was true, it took sometime to accept it and realiwe it, but you don’t need to apologize; i didn’t treat you right, so i am sorry,”

you give him a small smile, “i am also sorry, i shouldn’t have talked to you that way it was rude,”

“but true,” he adds and you chuckle

“yeah, it’s all fine now. we can start over again,”

“i mean, i’d like to,” he gives you a small, tiny smile but you could still see it

“y/n?”

“mmh?” you look at him, your mouth full and cheeks about to explode

“i know we just made up and stuff but... please be careful with that new trainee,”

“yuuji? what why?”

“look i’m a man and i know wha another man thinks when i see him in action, and he’s just... not trustworthy i guess,”

“tsukishima kei, tf are trying to say?”

“look, i don’t want you to get hurt! but he is all flirty with other women and it’s just a huge disrespect to you and your relationship,” he explains

you look at him with wide eyes than laugh your ass off, you couldn’t believe what you just heard

“tsukki, yuuji is my bestfriend we’re not dating,” you wipe a tear tha slipped

he just stares at you, “oh” is all what he could say

“thanks for worrying tho,”

“whatever,” he rolls his eyes

as the days went by you and kei got closer

he would tease you and you’d tease him back

“oi, salt shaker, put my stuff on a high shelf again and i’ll pull your highschool pictures when you played vb,”

“as if you still have them” he scoffs

“don’t mess with me!”

“whatever shortie- OW why would you throw the stapler at me?”

“it’s your mouth that i’m gonna staple next time,”

anyway it was all giggles and shit

you enjoyed working together and gaining your complicity back

the due date came, you had to present in front of 3 other CEOs and your own ceo

you did an amazing job, obviously

everyone liked the harmony between the two of you and how neat your work was

“WOHOO here’s my bad bitch,” yuuji hugged you after the deliberation

“stfu we’re not alone,” you laugh. “did i look good?” you ask

he smirks and checks you out, twirling you and wolf whistling, “hotter than ever and thicker than snicker,” you laugh at his remark

“uhm-uhm,” tsukishima came behind you

“hey, sushimika, good job out there,” yuuji gives him a big grin

tsukishima just nodds and his eyes dart to yuuji’s arm around your waist, something he notices

“erm anyway, Vanessa is calling me gotta go,” he kisses your head and leaves

“he’s one of a kind, i gotta admit,” you say pulling him out of his trance

“i mean, y’all are bestfriends so i’m not surprised,” you roll your eyes

“we did a good job out there, i mean i was better but you weren’t too bad yourself,” he smirks

“you’re so annoying,” you laugh. “i guess we make a good duo,”

you lookn at each other for a while before tsukki finally speaks up

“uhm look, i know it’s only been one month since we’re back to normal but... would you maybe like to have dinner with me?” he rubbs the back of his neck

“like a date?”

“you know what i mean y/n,” he rolls his eyes

“uhm sorry i don’t clearly see what you mean,” you grimace

“ugh alright, like on a date, would go with me yes or no ?”

you laugh at his impatience, “pick me up at 7,”

“is that a yes?”

“you know what i mean, tsukki,” you say as you leave

so the date went well

really well

you didn’t want to burn steps so you lowkey took your time in the process of getting back together

going on dates, talking everything out to build a strong base

work together was fun

i mean i’m not gonna talk about the sneaky make out sessions but haha you know 👀 

surely you got back together, even shared an appartement and you are the happiest you’ve ever been

he proposed 3 years after

fin

taglist : @fallingforyuu @ukhyeonn @yeonayona  @terminallyvolatile @bryai003​ @ichigo-post​ @virgyalizu​ 

i truly hope you like it, <3

[recklessmark]

chapter one: flechazo

—from DISCRETION series

Summary: you incidentally met a notorious CEO and your gut told you that you must claim this man. and even the fact that he’s engaged to someone else didn’t stop you from achieving what you want.

Pairing: CEO! Mark x Designer! Reader

Words: 1419

Warning (this chapter): none

(flechazo means falling in love at the first sight)

The loud music of the bar blasting in your ears, the scent of those liquor filling your nostrils. Colorful led lights flashing, the people here are either filthy rich spendthrifts or debauched players.

Of course can not forget our signorina, a truly prominent designer, Miss Y/N Y/L/N.

You lay your back on the chair, crossing your legs. You have been looking at that one exact direction for ages, rossy glistening in your eyes, a slight curl displays on your lips.

“What are you looking at?”

Alicia asks, having no clue what catches your eyes since she’s sitting opposite you. But by observing your facial expression, she thinks that you have found your new prey. Couldn’t hold herself from curiosity, Alicia turns around to see the thing that grabbed your attention. After a moment glancing around the place, she finally finds that one bewitching ‘thing’.

“Y/N, you’re looking at him?!” Following Alicia’s finger, you nodded. She went blank for seconds and then frantically shakes her head. “Y/N, don’t play with fire. That man looks hot but inside him is a cruel, merciless monster!”

You didn’t look away from the man, nor blinking, however, feeling annoyed when your friend is babbling around your ears. “How could you know?”

“My dad told me! He’s the CEO of the NCT’s company, frankly a monster! Y/N look, a twenty-two-year old man only took a few years to have a blatant status around the world. Even my dad had it 15 years to be successful. You should know, that whole human being is not simple!”

In general, she’s trying to forbid you anyway.

You tilt your head to the side, “Isn’t it interesting?”. All of your ex boyfriends are the typical filthy rich young masters, they only know how to waste money buying luxury stuffs for you, as long as you like. Moreover, they are nothing but deadbeats.

Boring!

What you want, who you want, is the man right before your eyes. He exudes a strong charm that you can’t even take your eyes of him. That majestic look, the arrogant face holds a pale smile which makes you feel that the whole world is collapsing in front of him. Suddenly you thought of an intention to subdue him, you must claim his heart at all cots.

The strong will in your eyes makes Alicia frightened. You were born in a high-class wealthy family so your biggest merit is prosperous and your defect is having a lot of money. Therefore it’s not strange when there are many guys having a crush on you. Until now, the number of your ex can be counted to dozens, even Alicia herself doesn’t play that much. It’s a fact that you just simply enjoy being loved by people, you have never been serious in your relationship. But this time she can not find any joking on your gorgeous face, there’s even determination and seriousness which makes her startled.

“Y/N! Y/N! Are you fucking crazy?!”

Alicia wildly yelled but you do not care, keep stepping towards the man. You know, you certainly know what you’re doing is insane but you still do it anyways. You can’t help yourself when those eyes looked at you, it’s like you’re standing on a mountain cliff. Even that faint smile, it’s a perfect cover and you want to ruin it instantly. The closer your distance is, the faster your heart beats. Your body is filling with both excitement and anxiety. The stripper of the bar is clinging on him, her hand comes to draw on his chest and suddenly she stands up to sit on his lap. The entire scene is captured in your eyes.

If there’s someone who is lunatic at the point no one can beat them, Alicia wants to give that award to you. You truthfully don’t know how outrageous Mark Lee is. Moreover, Alicia’s dad said that that guy is also one of the most infamous mafia boss, once he shows up, everyone is persuaded.

You’re facing Mark now, your stunning face is like a sparkle in the darkness, an irresistible smile appears on your lips.

“Mark Lee, I want you to be my man!”

One sentence, truly makes everyone frightened. Some are so scared that they don’t even dare to look, some are so thrilled to see what’s happening next.

How about Mark Lee?

His doe-eyes, glistening with some menace, is carefully observing you. Though, you didn’t faze, confidently facing him, pretend like you don’t feel the danger he’s radiating. You can affirm that this is absolutely the boldest thing you have ever done.

“You? You’re genuinely enchanting but daredevil like that, you must be an idiot. You’re insisting Mr Lee, who do you think you are?”, the stripper scornfully mocks you.

With this type of people, you don’t want to waste your time, “If I didn’t know who he is, I wouldn’t call him Mark Lee. Furthermore, there’s no need to know who I am, you only need to know I have money and I’m asking a man to be my boyfriend, it’s totally a normal thing!” Your words is like a knife, scratching her skin. “Oh, and put your hand off my man and get out of my way please!”

“Who are you to tell me to go?!”, she talks back.

“Enough! Go now!”, a low warm voice speaks up, like a cut in an intense string.

You cross your arms on your chest, not only appearance, even his voice is appealing.

“Still don’t want to go?”

You tilt your head, glancing at the stripper, “You really think that he told me to go?”

She frowns, thinking that you’re talking nonsense, “What else-“. She turns her head to the side, catching Mark’s sharp eyes, causing her to almost pass out.

“I said, you, go!”

The woman immediately stands up and quickly walks away, but she didn’t forget to give you a hateful look. You don’t care, your eyes are still sparkling with admiration towards Mark. She really ruined your bougie reputation. You naturally step forwards to take a seat next to Mark. Almost everybody was fazed, except of one man, Jung Jaehyun, who is smiling softly at you.

“You’re honestly attractive.”, he said.

You really don’t know if it’s a back-handed compliment. However you still be respectful, “Thank you!”

On the other hand, Mark Lee is quietly sitting there, the faint smirk is disappeared, even the red liquor in the glass is gone. Until now you can genuinely smile, “Hi! I’m Y/N L/N, the one and only daughter of the Secrectary of the Treasury. I really like you! Be my boyfriend, how about it?”

Jaehyun is sitting opposite, almost choked on his drink when he heard you introduction. And Mark Lee, from the beginning, has been simply looking at you with the different eyes from usual. Jaehyun shakes his head, “Y/N you should back off, he has already engaged with his fiancé.”

“Is she beautiful? Does she has a lot of money like me?”, you seriously ask.

Jaehyun doesn’t know how to say this, he silently look at Mark. “Pretty thing, she’s nothing compared to you but Mark loves her, a lot.”

Immediately, you raise your head up to give Jaehyun a glance, “Oh so it’s definitely that typical pathetic love. I don’t care!”

This answer...

Being brought through one by one surprise, Jaehyun feverishly chuckles, he walks towards you, “How can you be that sure?”, his face is an inch from yours.

You frown, pushing him away, “I can’t stand the alcohol scent!”

Can not stand alcohol scent.

“So why would you sit next to Mark this close? He drinks champagne!”, Jaehyun’s eyebrows furrow in confusion.

You lay your back on the couch, “Because I like Mark, I like whatever he does.”, you casually say. Jaehyun almost wanted to vomit all of the food that had been consumed in his stomach, your words were too lovey-dovey, weren’t they?

Suddenly, the one who has been keeping quite speaks up. “What drink?”

No one can understand Mark’s instant movement, however, you turn your head smiling widely at him.

“Mocktail!”

Alicia approaches you from a long distance, she has been perceiving everything. “Y/N, we have to go.”, she shoves her phone in her jacket, although she didn’t say anything, both of you still understand.

You take a deep breath, trying to ease the anxiety on your face. “Goodbye, we will meet again!”, you stand up, giving Mark the last smile.

Jaehyun looks at two figures walking away, wondering what happened.

—next: chapter two-encounter

this is slightly slow-burn y’all, please be impatient, they’re not going to fuck from the first chapter. 💀

©️  DREAMYKRAM. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

taglist: @nuoyii @jjikyuu @generantionct @keemburley

[drabbles-mc]

Try Again

Kozik x OFC (Tawnie Trager) (ft. Dad!Tig Trager)

Request by Anon: Kozik x female reader, where reader is Tig's first daughter (bit older than the twins, called Tawnie for lols) and no-one knows they're together, until Kozik overhears Gemma question Tawnie about the hickeys - who is like "I'm not sure whether to be mad that they're there, or mad that they're not that good" and then Kozik is pretty much like, 'challenge accepted', and Tig catches them when Kozik tries to leave better ones...?

Prequel can be found Here

Warnings: language, alcohol, slight steam

Word Count: 2.7k

A/N: I changed it to an OFC because the prompt felt almost a little too specific to keep it as a reader-insert lol. Hope you don’t mind! Also, y’all really like seeing Kozik come within an inch of his life with Dad!Tig lmaoooo love it

Join my group-chat here: (X) ​

SOA Taglist: @garbinge​ @masterlistforimagines​ @adela-topaz-caelon​ @mijop​ @chibsytelford​ @xladymacbethx​ @i-just-read-stuff​ @kkim120​ @multiyfandomgirl40​ @toni9​ @unicornucopia-fuckers​ @mayans-sauce​ @shadow-of-wonder​ (If you want to be added to the taglist, just let me know!)

She walked into the office with a box of files in her hands. Setting it down on Gemma’s desk, she let out a sigh. Rolling and cracking her neck, she pulled her hair back for a moment to help cool down. Normally she wouldn’t be caught dead with her hair down in the middle of summer, but things had gotten a little heated the night before and Kozik had left a scattering of hickeys on the side of her neck. The rule was always to keep it below the collar but they both got a little wrapped up in things. It wasn’t a huge deal when it happened for him—he could blame it on any of the women who hung around the clubhouse. But for her it was a bit of a tougher situation.

Her father had made it clear from the get-go that she and both of her sisters were off-limits to every man in the club. Even men who were friends of the club. No one was to do so much as toss a wink or a potentially flirtatious comment their way. And for as much as she tried to tell her father that he was being ridiculous, that she was a grown woman who could and would make her own decisions, he never budged. After all, Tig had never been known for being a man to compromise.

So it was bad enough that she was sneaking behind her father’s back with someone in the club. What made it even worse was the fact that it was the one person in the MC that he couldn’t stand. She didn’t even remember how her and Kozik fell into the situation that they were in. He was always friendly with her, but he was one of the most cautious around her because he knew that Tig wouldn’t hesitate to put a bullet in him if he so much as thought Kozik was hitting on his daughter. And yet, somehow that flipped completely around and the two of them were sneaking off whenever the situation allowed for it.

The last few months were playing at hyper-speed in her mind as she let herself breathe for a moment in the privacy of Gemma’s office. She was staring blankly down at the box that she had just brought in, too zoned out to notice the fact that Gemma had walked in behind her.

“Well, well, well,” Gemma chuckled as she walked up behind her, “What’d you get yourself into last night, T?”

Fear shot down her spine and she instantly let her hair go, “What?”

Gemma shook her head, “Too late to hide it now, sweetheart,” she brushed her hair out of the way to get a better look at her neck, “Since you’re busted, you gotta tell me,” she leaned back against the desk, “Who done it, Tawnie?”

She rolled her eyes, “You cannot tell my dad.”

Gemma chuckled, “What Tig doesn’t know won’t hurt him. So,” she nudged Tawnie’s shoulder, “spill the beans, sweetheart.”

Kozik was about to walk in to ask Gemma about something when he heard the two of them talking. He stopped himself, lurking right outside the door. He was curious to see how the conversation was going to go—he wanted to know if Tawnie would actually confide in someone about the two of them. He’d been good, he hadn’t told a single soul about the two of them being together. It was too small of a town and word traveled way too fast. His days were numbered as it was and he didn’t want to shorten his lifespan any more than necessary by having Tig find out that he was hooking up with his daughter.

Tawnie sighed, running her hands down her face, “Kozik.”

Gemma’s eyes went wide, “Honey, why do you want him to get the shit kicked out of him?”

She laughed, “I don’t! I don’t. Please, please don’t tell my dad.”

“I won’t,” Gemma shook her head slightly, “How’d that happen, anyway?”

She shrugged, feeling the heat rise slightly in her cheeks, “I don’t really know. It all sorta just…fell together.”

“How long?”

She paused, not wanting to admit how long they’d been hiding it, “Couple months.”

“A couple months?” Gemma chuckled and shook her head, “You’ve been sneaking around for a couple months and the man still can’t leave a proper hickey?”

She laughed, giving her a playful shove, “Gemma!”

“What? I’m just saying,” she glanced at her neck, “I could leave a better one than that. And your father would be much less pissed off about it.”

“You gonna give him a how-to manual, Gemma?”

She shook her head, “That’s something he’s gotta learn on his own, sweetheart.”

She laughed, “Is that something you’d like updates on?”

Gemma smiled as she fixed Tawnie’s hair, covering back up the marks on her neck, “You won’t need to tell me—I’ll see it for myself.”

There were a few beats of silence before she spoke up again, “Thank you for, y’know, not ratting me out to my dad.”

She smiled, “The girls gotta stick together.”

Taking that as her cue to leave, Tawnie made her way towards the office door. Kozik heard the sound of her footsteps and tried to back off enough so that it wouldn’t seem obvious that he was waiting right outside the door for her. Despite the distance, though, his face gave him away. She could tell from his expression that he was trying to cover for himself, which meant that he had most definitely heard her conversation with Gemma. She felt a little bad, but she also wanted to see what he was going to say.

“Oh, hey,” she smiled, tilting her head slightly, “You good?”

He nodded, “Yea, I’m…I’m good. Is, uh, is Gemma in there?”

So he was going to play it off for the time being. Two could play at that game. She nodded, “Yea, just got in.”

“Alright, cool. Thanks. I’ll see you later?”

She nodded, “Yea of course. You gonna be around tonight for the party?”

“Are you?”

She smiled, “I think so.”

A smirk passed over his face for a moment, “Then I think so too.”

The day went by quickly. She kept herself busy with random things around the garage and the clubhouse. Normally she’d be getting her hands dirty working on whatever needed repairs, but if she couldn’t tie her hair back out of the way, she wasn’t even going to bother. It would’ve been more trouble than it was worth.

She was helping bring in a few cases of beer as people started showing up for the party. It was dark out by that point, music and loud conversations already starting to flow out through the walls of the clubhouse. She smiled and shook her head to herself as she bumped the door open with her hip.

“T,” Jax appeared on the other side of the bar from her and gave his most charming smile, “grab me a beer, please?”

She rolled her eyes but did as he asked. She popped the top off of it before handing it to him, “I’m not a bartender, Teller.”

“If you’re on that side of the bar, you’re a bartender. Those are the rules.”

She laughed and shook her head before grabbing a beer for herself, “Guess you can carry your own shit in next time.”

Making her way back to the side of the bar that wouldn’t land her with more responsibilities, she looked around the clubhouse. Everyone was hanging out having a good time. A few of the guys were playing pool, and some of them already had women draped over their laps. She chuckled as she sat herself down on a stool at the bar. Pressing the beer bottle to her lips, she silently looked for Kozik in the midst of the chaos.

They locked eyes from across the room. He was sitting on the sofa, one of the women from Cara Cara tucked underneath his arm. She almost felt herself getting jealous, but when he smiled at her all of those feelings faded away. They both knew that the price of keeping their relationship a secret was having to allow a certain amount of flirtation from the people around them. He never got too close with any of the women who hung around the clubhouse, but he couldn’t be too cold and dismissive without at least one of the guys giving him shit about it.

Tawnie refused to break eye contact as she took a long drink from her beer bottle. She could see it in his eyes that even though the party had barely started, he already wanted to leave with her. She would’ve been up for that, too, if he asked. But she knew that he wouldn’t. She contented herself with keeping an eye on everyone around her.

Tig walked up, throwing a loving arm around his daughter’s shoulders, “How you doin’, doll?”

She chuckled and leaned against him for a moment, giving him a side-hug, “I’m good, Dad. Enjoying the party?”

“Always,” he laughed, “But are you?”

She chuckled, nodding, “You know me—I’m more than happy to just sit back and watch everyone else get into trouble.”

“Good way to stay out of it.”

“Exactly,” she gave him a playful nudge, “Go keep the boys in line, alright?”

He smiled, pressing a brief kiss to the top of her head, “Love you, T.”

“Love you too,” she laughed as he took off into the fray of things.

Once the party had really gotten underway, Kozik made his way over to her. It felt safer to be closer when there was so much else going on around them—they weren’t on anyone’s radar. He leaned in close so that only she could hear him. At first it was just jokes, off-hand comments about what was going on around them. She’d laugh and shake her head, and Kozik could swear that he’d never heard a better sound.

“Think we could sneak out for a bit?” he asked.

She looked at him, eyebrows raised, “Oh?”

He nodded, “Yea,” he pushed her hair back behind her shoulder, “because apparently I have some work to make up for.”

Heat rushed to her face and she wanted to hide behind her hands. Even though she knew that he had heard the conversation with Gemma, talking about it was an entirely different thing. She looked up at him, a nervous smile on her face.

“I didn’t say—”

“Don’t even,” he laughed and shook his head.

She laughed as well, knowing that there was no trying to soften the blow to his ego. He seemed to be handling it just fine, though. They both looked around to see if anyone was paying attention to them before sneaking back towards the dorms.

Once they were in the hall, out of the main cluster of the clubhouse, Kozik instantly had his hands all over her. He walked up behind her, sliding his hands up her sides beneath her top. Without thinking about it, she melted back into him, reaching back with one hand to trail her fingers down the side of his face. His fingers gripped onto her side as he kissed along her shoulder. He spun her around so that her chest was pressed against his, pushing her back against the wall.

He crashed his lips into hers as he pinned her to the wall. She gripped the edges of his kutte and attempted to pull him as close as she possibly could. They knew it was reckless to not even bother waiting to get to his dorm, but she wasn’t in the mood to be telling him to stop. Any and all responsible thoughts left her brain the second he bit down on her bottom lip.

He pulled his lips off of hers, trailing them down along her jaw and peppering her with kisses all along the way. She couldn’t help but to smile as he placed a kiss on her neck, “Gonna give it another shot?”

His laughter vibrated against her skin, “I feel like I have to. Can’t let Gemma disrespect me like that.”

She laughed and was about to make a smart remark when she felt his teeth against the sensitive skin of her neck. Her fingers wound their way into his hair, eyes fluttering shut as his hand slipped up the front of her shirt as he continued to suck a dark mark into the side of her throat. His name was about to fall from her lips in a quiet moan when their moment was interrupted.

“What the fuck is this?” Tig snapped, eyes darting back and forth between the two of them.

Kozik immediately backpedaled, nearly plastering himself against the opposite wall from Tig’s daughter. Tawnie’s face was flushed, hair and shirt a mess as she tried to look anywhere but into the eyes of her dad. She knew it was their own doing, but she still didn’t want to have to have this conversation with him.

“You’re a dead motherfucker,” within a split second Tig was charging at Kozik,

“Dad!” Tawnie jumped in, barely being able to wedge herself between the two men before serious damage was done, “Dad, stop!” she shoved him backwards with all the strength she could muster.

Tig’s chest was heaving as he looked down at his daughter, “What the fuck, T?”

“You don’t get to tell me who I can and can’t see,” she sounded much more confident than she really felt.

“This,” he pointed at Kozik, “is not a good choice, Tawnie.”

“You don’t get to decide that for me!”

Kozik’s eyes were bouncing back and forth between the two Tragers. It wasn’t often that he saw Tawnie get heated and defensive about things. He’d certainly never pictured her speaking like that to her own father. He wanted to step in and say something but he had the feeling that that was only going to make it worse.

“And you,” Tig’s eyes bored into his, “what the fuck are you thinking?!”

It was hard to try and sound tough when Tawnie was the only thing standing between him and getting his ass beat. He still tried, though. He rested his hands protectively on her shoulders and looked directly into Tig’s eyes.

“I’m think that she’s right. That you don’t get to make that decision for us.”

“For us?” Tig stepped in closer, his blood boiling.

“I’m an adult, Dad,” Tawnie was shaking her head, “And for what it’s worth, I don’t think you get to criticize who I’m seeing when you were about to bring some random woman back to your dorm,” she cocked one eyebrow.

That got Tig to recoil a bit. He hooked his thumbs onto his belt-loops, trying to figure out what he wanted his next move to be. After a few moments of incredibly tense silence, he looked back at his daughter, “We aren’t done talking about this.”

Before she could try to give any kind of sass in return, Tig turned around and headed back towards the main part of the clubhouse, the woman he was about to whisk away following suit. Tawnie let out a deep sigh of relief as she leaned back against Kozik, taking comfort in the feeling of his arms draped over her shoulders as he kissed the top of her forehead.

“Did you think you were gonna die?” she laughed.

He chuckled, loosely wrapping his arms around her neck as he pulled her back against him, “For a second, yea.”

“My last resort would’ve been telling him that Gemma told you to do it,” she tilted her head back so she could look up at him.

He smiled down at her, “I kinda wish that you did, just so we could see his reaction.”

“He still might’ve killed you.”

“Maybe,” he sighed as he rested his forehead lightly against the back of her head.

“Does this mean you’re going to bail on your redemption plans?”

He slid his hands down so that they were resting on her hips again. Without a word he turned her and began pushing her down the hall in the direction of his dorm. She laughed as she let herself be guided down the row of doors.

“I don’t give up that easy,” he laughed quietly as he pressed a kiss to her temple.

[levi-lover]

New Light Part: 4

College Levi x Reader(Modern AU)

W/C: 2793

T/W:  Mentions of alcohol and drugs

A/N: Okay, disclaimer, I haven’t paid a lot of attention to the Warriors so writing them was a little tough but I filled in the gaps of their personalities with my imagination so plz forgive me lol. Again, thank you to everyone who has liked/reblogged/commented on the earlier fics! It means a lot :) (pic is from pinterest. 

I’ve put all the parts in one list here:  New Light Masterlist

You saw the group at the back entrance and waved. Your nerves from earlier were completely forgotten after your second beer. Zeke rubbed his thumb against your shoulder and you smiled out of habit. You made eye contact with Levi and gave him a toothy grin, his eyes darted away. Your friends looked at the party headed towards them and stopped talking but you didn’t notice. 

“Hey, I was wondering if y’all forgot where the bar is,” you joked but no one laughed. 

“Erwin. Levi. It’s been a while,” Zeke stated. 

You looked at him confused. “What? You know them?”

Zeke chuckled, “yeah, I guess I do.”

“Zeke, it’s nice to see you again. Same to you Porco and Pieck,” Erwin stated.

Porco and Pieck looked at each other and smiled. “It’s nice to see you too, Erwin,” Pieck said in a sweet voice. 

Levi glared at the way Zeke’s arm was draped across your shoulder. He gritted his teeth. Hange noticed how tense he was getting and placed a hand on his shoulder. 

“What a small world! I’m glad everyone knows each other. Guys, sit down!” You montioned at the empty seats at the table, completely misreading the space. 

Hange was the first to sit and the rest followed. The table was quiet for a few minutes, everyone sipped on their drinks. 

“Levi, I like your scarf,” You pointed to the black scarf draped across his body.

“Thanks.” 

“Yeah, it’s such a nice scarf,” Zeke repeated. 

Levi gave Zeke a dirty look. Hange looked at him nervously and Moblit put a hand on their knee to calm them. You took another sip of your beer. 

“Yeah, Zeke, it is a nice scarf. That’s why I complimented it. Anyways, how do you all know each other?” Confidence surged through your veins thanks to the alcohol. 

“We were floormates freshman year,” Levi’s dry voice said.

“Wait-oh, I see,” You said.

Erwin began to make casual conversation with everyone while Levi stared at the bottom of his glass. Hange and Moblit joined Erwin and conversed with the other two at the table. Wait, is Zeke the one that called Erwin’s kickback lame? That’s the only possibility, right? Your head was dizzy from the alcohol but the puzzle pieces were starting to fall into place. 

“Hey, (Y/N),” Porco called out.

“Huh?”

“You good? It looks like we lost you there for a second.”

“Yeah, Porco. I’m fine,” You said sarcastically. 

“Zeke, you and (Y/N) make a good couple,” Erwin said.

Zeke chuckled and squeezed you closer to his toned body, “I know but thank you.”

You kept your head down unsure about what to do. It was evident that Zeke had an issue with Erwin and Levi but you didn’t fully understand why. From what you heard, Zeke was the one who was mean to the other two but Zeke was your boyfriend so you should be on his side, right? You took another swig of your beer. 

“Levi, are you still with Petra?” Pieck asked. 

Petra? Who the fuck is that, you thought, anger coursed through your veins. 

“No,” Levi said. 

“Oh, that’s too bad. She was such a lovely girl,” Pieck sighed. 

“Who’s Petra?” You asked. 

No one answered your question. You looked at Pieck but she kept her eyes down. What the fuck is up?

“She’s a girl I dated freshman year,” Levi explained. 

“Oh.” 

Hange broke the tension by shouting, “(Y/N), I promised you a shot! Who else wants one?” 

Pieck, Moblit and Erwin raised their hands. Hange called over a server and asked for a round of shots for everyone. A few minutes later, they brought tequila shots for the table. Everyone grabbed their lime and raised their glass.

“To finishing finals!” Hange exclaimed.

The table repeated what Hange said and took their shot. You and Porco laughed at Pieck’s face and she stuck her tongue out at you. Zeke kissed your cheek and you leaned into his warm body. For a second, it felt like it did at the beginning of your relationship. You felt safe and hopeful but those feelings disappeared when you caught Levi looking at you and Zeke. Immediately, you pulled away and Zeke frowned. You weren’t one for PDA but after a few drinks you didn’t mind showing your man some love but under Levi’s eye it felt wrong. 

“Let’s do another shot!” Hange shouted.

“Hange!! Let me buy you a shot!!” You shouted back.

“(Y/N), you’re the best!!” Hange exclaimed, their cheeks glowing under the lights. 

Everyone took another shot and the mood around the table began to lighten as everyone got drunker. Porco made a few jokes that made Erwin laugh. Zeke talked to Hange about their senior thesis. Everything seemed to be falling into place except for Levi. He didn’t make an effort to hold a conversation with anyone. He stared at the empty shot glasses and occasionally smiled at whatever Erwin said. 

The patio lights shadows made Levi look heavenly, the soft glow bounced off his pale skin and you tried not to stare but you couldn’t, he looked so pretty.

Zeke could sense that your thoughts were taking you elsewhere so he gave you a kiss on the check. You gave him a smile in return. 

The bar was packed and everyone at the table was talking after a new round of drinks. It should be a perfect night, all of your friends seemed to be getting alone but something didn’t feel right. In that moment, you wished it could have been Levi holding your body. Stop, Levi is just a friend, that’s it. I love Zeke. You repeated in your head over and over. 

As the night dragged on, you slowly began to lose touch with reality, everything became a happy, surreal blur. Throughout the night, Zeke kept his hands on your body. Before that would have kept you grounded but now it felt off, you weren’t sure if it was the alcohol but you didn’t want him to touch you. You kept on smiling and talking to everyone until the bartender called for final orders.

“This was nice but I think we should get going now,” Erwin declared. 

“Yeah, I think you’re right,” Pieck said. 

Everyone gathered their belongings and started to walk towards the front door. Zeke walked ahead with Porco and Pieck but you stayed behind with the others. Erwin, Hange and Moblit left you and Levi together alone. Hange’s arm was wrapped around Moblit’s shoulder. They leaned against their body and continued talking.  

“Hey, I had a good time tonight,” You said to Levi who barely acknowledged your existence. 

“It was okay,” He stated.

The two of you followed the others. 

“But what are the odds of us forming a friendship in this way, right?” You said.

“Tsk, a friendship? We hardly know each other, I wouldn't push it,” Levi responded.

“I guess you’re right,” You muttered.

Levi felt bad about his harsh tone but he didn’t know what to do. He still had the same warm feeling in his chest from before but watching Zeke touch you hurt him. All of you had exited the bar and you walked over to Zeke and he placed his jacket over your shoulders.

“Well, it was, uh, nice to catch up with all of you. Hange thank you for helping my girl study. Get home safe,” Zeke said. You smiled and everyone and waved. 

“Zeke, the same to you too. Glad to know you’re doing well. (Y/N) congrats on finishing midterms. See you later,” Erwin said.

“I love yoouuu! I love all of you!” Hange shouted. Moblit still had his arm around Hange to stabilize them.

“Love you too, Hange!” You blew them a kiss.

They all turned and began to walk home. Porco and Pieck had already left in their Uber. You looked at Zeke and he gave you a smile and you smiled back out of habit. 

Zeke made conversation on your way back to his place. You wrapped your arms around your body and counted the steps in between each street light. The air around you was dry and your breath fell to the ground in a transparent cloud. Eventually, you made it to Zeke’s apartment, it was highrise close to downtown. When you entered the apartment your attention immediately went to the large windows. They faced the city skyline and the lights poured into the living room and gently outlined the minimal furniture in the room. Zeke led you to the bedroom and began to kiss the back of your neck. His beard tickled your neck and left goosebumps on your skin. You rolled your shoulders and stepped away.

“Come on,” Zeke groaned.

“No, not tonight. I’m really tired,” You said. 

You made your way to the bathroom and turned on the harsh lights. The lights bounced off the white tiles and highlighted the bags under your eyes. You stared at yourself for a while, the longer you stared, the faster your thoughts swirled in your head. Is Levi made at me? You splashed cold water on your face and tried to wash off the awkwardness from tonight but no matter how hard you scrubbed, you couldn’t get the image of Levi staring at the empty glasses out of your head. 

When you walked back into the bedroom you saw Zeke passed on the bed. You smiled at him and placed a blanket over his body and brushed his hair away from his forehead. You curled up on the opposite side of the bed and wrapped a blanket around yourself. Zeke’s soft snores filled the room, normally that was enough to lull you to sleep but lately it was becoming more of a nuisance. Why am I feeling like this? I love Zeke and he loves me back, that should be enough. So why do I feel so unsure? Zeke wasn’t your first partner but he was your first proper love. Everything beforehand had felt like practice for this. 

The two of you had met in the spring term of sophomore year. The sun was shining and you we’re sitting on a blanket with Rico bouncing off ideas for research projects. You kept an eye on the baseball team who were practicing near the two of you. Rico was in the middle of explaining her ideas when a baseball flew in your direction.

“Heads up!” shouted a deep voice.

Both of you covered your heads as the ball flew over your blanket. The footsteps of one of the players was nearing your spot.

“Hey, I’m sorry about that.”

You tried to look up but the sun was blinding your eyes. You were able to make out the outline of a tall, man with broad shoulders and wavy blonde hair. He flashed a charismatic smile and said,“the name’s Jaeger. Zeke Jaeger.”

You introduced yourself and Zeke knelt down so his head was at your level.

“Nice to meet you. I feel about almost hitting you. Not sure what happened, normally I have perfect aim.” He winked at you. “Let me make it up by taking you out for a drink, your friend is more than welcomed to come.”

You blushed and thanked him and began to decline your offer when Rico interrupted you.

“She, I mean, we would love that. Here’s her number and mine, too.”

“Thanks, I’ll shoot y’all a text.”

Zeke stood up, grabbed the ball and gave you a wave before running back to his team. From that point on, the two of you had been inseparable. 

You drifted off thinking about those first memories, the sweetness of his touch, the excitement of loving Zeke, the hopefulness you had. If you kept on thinking about those moments then maybe they would manifest back into your life. You wanted back that stability in your love so much it hurt your chest. 

The next day you rolled over to an empty bed. Your hand traced the cold sheets and you kept your hands in the sunlight, the warmth felt good compared to the draft in Zeke’s bedroom. He preferred a colder bedroom, he said it was better for the body. The front door opened and you pretended to be asleep. Zeke’s footsteps got closer to the bed and you felt him press a kiss to your cheek, he smelled of sweat and musk. Who goes on a run after a night out? You thought. The showerhead turned on and you heard Zeke sing. 

You got up and rummaged through Zeke’s drawer and pulled out a navy cardigan. You wrapped the fabric over your body and padded your way to the kitchen. The kitchen was colder than the bedroom.

“Fuck, who lives like this?” 

You poured yourself water and stared at the tiles on the walls. Re-playing Levi’s comment in your head. Tsk, a friendship? We hardly know each other, I wouldn't push it. You didn’t blame Levi for his harshness but his comment hurt. There was no denying that you two shared a kinship that was a bit deeper than friendship. Romance wasn’t the word for it either. The relationship you had formed with him felt safe, you felt understood and respected in a way you haven’t really before. Your concentration was broken when you heard Zeke enter the kitchen.

“Hey, babe. Good morning.” He pressed a kiss to your temple. “I bought you a smoothie.”

“Thanks, Zeke,” you responded. 

He grabbed the smoothie from the fridge and smiled at you. You sat on the counter and began to sip on the drink. Zeke hummed to himself and began to pull out a pan from the cupboard. 

“Whatcha thinking about?” you asked.

“Life.”

“Like, the gameboard?” You joked.

He rolled his eyes. “Honestly, I’m thinking about last night. I never thought I was going to see those guys ever again.” 

“Mmm, why did something happen?” You said nonchalantly. 

Zeke chuckled, “stupid freshman things. We were all young and dumb.”

He stayed silent afterwards as he went on to fry some eggs. The eggs sizzled in the pan and he whistled quietly. You knew him well enough to know he wanted to say something else. 

“I mean, I did dumb stuff when I was freshman so how bad can it actually be?” You prodded.

Zeke stared at you with a series expression. “Look (Y/N), I don’t really want to hash out what happened but-” he hesitated as he looked for the right words to say, “-be careful around Levi. There’s something off about that guy.”

“Oh,” you muttered.

You continued drinking the smoothie, the smell of the egg was making you nauseous and you started to feel the hanging over. You went back into the bedroom and laid down. Your phone buzzed and saw a text from Hange.

Hange: OMG i’m so hungover, i don’t remember getting home

You: Hange, WTF that’s not good lol but I know you were in good hands ;) 

Hange: wut does that mean??

You: Moblit lol he was so nice and caring 

Hange: … no comment but what are you doing 

You: nothing really, why?

Hange: do you want to get brunch? 

Hange: it’ll just be the two of us :) 

You: yeah, i would love that, send me the address !

The smell of egg had entered the bedroom and you gagged. You hated the smell but Zeke insisted that it was the best way to get protein in the morning. You grabbed your belongings and walked to the kitchen again. Zeke was sitting at the counter eating the eggs and drinking his smoothie while reading the paper.

“Hey, I think I’m gonna head out!” 

“Really? I thought we could spend the day together before I leave,” Zeke responded.

“You’re leaving?” You paused while putting on your shoes. 

“I thought I told you. My internship is taking me on a trip for the next three days and then I’m heading home for the break,” Zeke said in between bites of food. 

“Shit. You didn’t tell me. How about we hang out later today?” 

“Yeah, I guess that sounds good to me. I’ll see you later,” he said. 

“See ya.” 

You went back to your apartment to freshen up and hurried to the diner Hange was it. You stepped through the doors and immediately saw Hange’s smiling face. They were waving you to their table. You greeted them with equal excitement and walked to them. For the past few weeks, some of your favorite moments have been hanging out with them. They always brightened your mood with their cheerful banter and love for life. You were excited to eat brunch with them and question them more about the history between the trio and your boyfriend.

Tag: @thefuckupoftoday​ (let me know if you wanted to be added to the taglist!)

[protecticarus]

I didn't know I needed this until now. Prompt idea: Dirk meets Todd's parents who just assume Dirk is his boyfriend, and for fun Dirk plays along while Todd is clueless

i decided this prompt would work with a christmas setting, so here we are! i’m back!

i tweaked the prompt just slightly by making dirk “play along” unknowingly, so without realizing what todd’s parents are implying. the result however is the same mortifying ordeal for todd, amusement for everyone else and fluffy set up for the next step in dirk and todd’s relationship! i hope that’s alright!

possible tw: alcohol and some swear words.

merry christmas y’all! x

-

”Are you absolutely certain it’s alright for me to tag along?” Dirk asked, for maybe the 18th time that day.

”For the last time, Dirk, my parents were the ones to invite you themselves. I know you don’t know them yet, but let me tell you, my parents are the kind of people who won’t do something they don’t actually want to. So yes, Dirk, I’m absolutely certain you’re welcome to spend Christmas with me and my family this year. Now please, stop asking.” Todd explained, for what he hoped would be the last time. He kept his eyes on the road as he drove - much to Dirk’s dismay who wanted to be the one behind the wheel himself, which Todd refused to let happen, insisting that he wanted to live to see the new year - but he could practically feel Dirk furrow his brow in deep thought.

”As long as you’re sure.” Dirk finally mumbled his reply.

Todd resisted the urge to roll his eyes. ”I’m sure.” He said instead.

Dirk was uncharacteristically quiet on the drive over to Todd’s parents’ house, a fact which would normally demand all of Todd’s attention, but he was currently too nervous himself to be of much comfort to his friend. The last time Todd had seen his parents was when he told them everything. The faked pararibulitis, the real reason for him dropping out of college, the screwing his band over, the money… They had, of course, been very upset and hurt, but ultimately willing to forgive Todd. They just asked for some time, which Todd happily gave them.

That had been four months ago. Todd had talked to his parents in the meantime, on the phone and via email, but he had yet to actually spend time with them, face to face. His mother had assured him that she and Todd’s father had moved on and forgiven him. And Todd believed them. But he also knew they would like to talk about it. As soon as his parents had expressed their need for some time to think, Todd had taken the opportunity to escape the uncomfortable situation. Four months ago.

It was one thing to hash things out over email or even on the phone, but another to do so face to face. While his parents’ gesture to invite Todd’s eccentric colleague/best friend along had been made to assure Dirk didn’t have to spend Christmas alone, Todd’s relief of being able to take Dirk with him had been partly selfish. Dirk was his buffer. Any time he felt too uncomfortable, he could just use Dirk as a distraction. That, and Dirk provided Todd with comfort and support he desperately needed, a fact he was a little less willing to admit, even to himself.

Too soon for both of the men, they had arrived at Todd’s parents’ house. Todd took a deep breath after putting the car safely in park. ”Ready?” He asked the man next to him.

”No.” Came Dirk’s reply.

”Yeah, me neither.” Todd sighed. ”Let’s go.”

They both made their way to the door which was immediately flown open before either of them had the chance to even entertain the idea of ringing the doorbell.

Amanda threw her hands around her brother’s neck in a quick hug. ”Thank fuck you’re here, I’ve been alone with them for like an hour.” She said and then moved onto wrap Dirk in a quick hug of his own.

”Sorry, we left late. Dirk couldn’t decide on a tie.” Todd said.

Dirk rolled his eyes. ”Right, that and Todd pretended to have a headache and contemplated calling in sick. From Christmas.” He replied.

Amanda gave Todd a dirty look. ”Wimp.” She said.

”Shut up. Both of you.” Said Todd and finally stepped into the house with Amanda and Dirk on his heels.

As soon as they entered the house, they were met with the sharp ringing of the smoke detector.

”Guys, Todd and Dirk are here!” Amanda yelled over the alarm.

”Come in, come in!” Came the reply from the direction of the kitchen.

The trio made their way toward the voice and the alarm.

”Mom, is something on fire?” Todd asked as they entered the kitchen to see Todd’s mother surrounded by grey smoke.

”Of course not, Todd, you know that alarm is too sensitive.” Todd’s mother replied nonchalantly and took a sip of her white wine.

”Smoke detectors tend to react to smoke.” Amanda said.

”Yeah, well, a little smoke never hurt anybody.” Came the reply.

”I wouldn’t put money on that.” Amanda remarked.

Suddenly the alarm quieted down. ”Got it!” Yelled Todd’s father from somewhere in the house.

”Thanks babe!” His wife replied. Then her eyes finally landed on Dirk. ”Oh you must be Dirk! So nice to meet you honey, sorry for the smell.” She said and put down her wine glass.

”Hello Mrs. Brotzman. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.” Dirk replied in a nervous voice. ”I hope it’s alright that I-” He was cut off by Todd’s mother wrapping him in a surprisingly strong hug.

”The moment Todd mentioned you had no family in the States I knew we had to have you over for Christmas! Lucky us you’re not from here, huh? Gosh that accent is adorable by the way, I totally see the appeal.” She said and patted Dirk’s cheek after pulling away from the hug.

”Jesus, mom.” Todd groaned.

”T-Thank you, Mrs. Brotzman.” Dirk replied, quite taken aback by the friendly welcome.

Todd’s mother made a face like she’d smelled something bad - other than whatever had just set off the smoke detector. ”Ugh, no, Mrs. Brotzman is my mother-in-law. Please call me Jo, Joanna if I’m in trouble.” She said.

Dirk smiled and let his shoulders drop a little in relief. ”Alright. Jo, then.” He said.

Jo smiled back and patted Dirk on the shoulder. ”Good kid.”

”Who’s being a good kid? Surely not any of ours?” Said Todd’s father as he stepped into the kitchen.

”Dad…” Groaned Todd and Amanda.

Jo laughed. ”Of course not. This is Dirk.” She told her husband.

”Ah yes, how’s it going, Dirk? I’m Thomas.” He said and extended his hand to Dirk.

”It’s… Good. Going good. Thank you for having me, Mr. Brotzman.” Replied Dirk as he shook Thomas’ hand.

”Told you, it’s Thomas.” Insisted Thomas.

Dirk gave an awkward smile. ”Ah, yes, Thomas. Of course.” He said.

”Good to have you here with us, Dirk. Jo and I were just saying how it’s about damn time.” Said Thomas.

Dirk blushed. ”Why thank you, Thomas. I’m very happy to have been invited.” He said.

Todd furrowed his brow in confusion. Had he even talked about Dirk that much to his parents? In fact, he’d made the conscious effort not to, as much of Dirk was impossible to explain without explaining… Well, Dirk. So why were they so eager to meet the guy?

”Wine anyone? We can have a drink in the living room while the ham calms down.” Said Jo.

”You should know that in this house we have to hope for mom’s cooking to ’calm down’ before we attempt to eat it.” Amanda fake-whispered to Dirk.

”Oh hush you.” Said Jo. ”So we’re not a family of chefs! We have other strengths.” She added.

”I’ll drink to that.” Said Thomas while he poured himself a glass of red wine. ”Dirk, are you a red or white kind of guy?” He asked.

Dirk froze. ”Uh, I… I suppose-”

”Red, right? Cause it’s richer, more… Fruity.” Todd jumped in.

Dirk looked grateful for the interruption. ”Yes. Red, that’s right.”

”Great, I won’t be the only one emptying the bottles of red tonight! These three won’t give up the white.” Thomas said.

”That’s because it’s better.” Said Amanda.

”Here, here!” Said Jo and raised her glass in a toast.

Thomas nudged Dirk. ”They just don’t get it.” He said.

Dirk didn’t even care that he’d never actually tasted a drop of red wine, he just enjoyed the feeling of camaraderie with Todd’s father. Dirk smirked at Todd, as if to say ’look, look how well it’s going.’ Todd rolled his eyes fondly at Dirk. As he turned away, he caught his mother’s eye, who gave him a look he couldn’t quite read. It was a warm look though, similar to the teasing ones she’d given him before he revealed what an asshole he was. Todd felt his throat tighten at the warmth of the look, and quickly poured some wine down it.

”Let’s move to the living room to chat, I want to know all there is to know about you, Dirk!” Said Jo and began leading the way to the living room.

”And by all she means-” Todd began.

”All that has nothing to do with time traveling, soul swapping or alternate dimensions, I know.” Said Dirk.

Once seated around the living room - Dirk, Todd and Amanda on the couch, Jo and Thomas snuggly on an old armchair facing the couch - Jo leaned forward and gripped her glass tight. ”So, Dirk. Tell me.” She said.

Dirk blinked a few times in silence. ”Tell you…?” He questioned.

”Everything!” Jo clarified.

”How about we start with: where are you from? England?” Asked Thomas.

”Yes, England.” Dirk replied. ”Not much to say about it though, I came here when I was quite young.”

”Your parents wanted a change of scenery?” Asked Jo.

Dirk smiled awkwardly. ”Something like that.”

Todd tensed next to him, knowing the topic was nearing dangerously emotional territory for Dirk.

”Where are they now? Back in England?” Jo asked.

”Oh. Well…” Dirk began.

”Mom, this isn’t an interrogation.” Interrupted Todd.

”Of course not!” Jo exclaimed.

”I don’t think your mom meant it that way, Todd.” Thomas said and gave Todd a disapproving look.

”I know, just-” Todd sighed.

”It’s alright, Todd.” Said Dirk. ”Truth is, Jo, I haven’t seen my parents in a long time. I was told they died a while ago though. I haven’t been able to confirm it, but I don’t have a reason not to believe it to be true.” He explained vaguely.

Jo and Thomas stared at him in silence for a moment. Amanda took a rather large sip of her wine. Todd placed his hand on Dirk’s in his lap and gave it a supportive squeeze. Dirk gave him a soft smile in return.

”I’m sorry, Dirk, I didn’t know. Todd never said…” Jo finally said and gave Todd a stern look. Todd wasn’t sure why, but clearly his mother thought it should have been obvious to Todd to inform her of Dirk’s parents’ status.

”It’s quite alright, Jo. Like I said, I haven’t seen them in a long time. Since I was a boy, really. I’m quite used to being on my own.” Dirk reassured her.

”You’re not though.” Said Todd quickly. ”On your own, I mean.”

Dirk gave him a watery smile. ”No, I suppose I’m not.” He said quietly.

”Aww…” Said Jo. ”You two are so precious.” She added.

”What?” Asked Todd.

”Thank you.” Replied Dirk.

”How did you meet again? Todd’s recount was pretty vague.” Jo asked.

Todd was still trying to decipher what his mother had meant by her last comment when Dirk already went to answer the new question.

”Oh it’s quite the story, actually!” He said, his mood immediately back to chipper.

”Uh, yeah, maybe the, uh… Abridged version of the story, Dirk?” Said Todd.

Dirk turned to look at him. ”Ah.” He said at the expression on Todd’s face. ”Of course.”

Todd’s parents exchanged a look that made Todd’s ears burn for some reason.

”Well, you see, I broke into his apartment through the window.” Dirk explained.

Todd squeezed the bridge of his nose. ”Right, cause he… He got the wrong apartment.” He said.

”I did?” Asked Dirk. Todd gave him a look. ”Yes, of course I did. Stupid Dirk, always climbing through other people’s windows by accident.” He added.

”Right, so… Dirk had just moved in and he forgot his keys. And so he tried to get into his apartment through the window, only he climbed into mine, cause it’s right below his.” Todd explained.

”Yes.” Agreed Dirk. ”Precisely.”

”Wow.” Jo commented. ”What a… What do the kids say? A sweet-meet?” She asked.

Amanda snorted into her wine glass. ”A meet-cute.” She corrected her mother.

”Right!” Said Jo. ”A meet-cute!”

Todd flipped Amanda off while their mother explained the concept of ’meet-cute’ to their father.

”We had a meet-cute too, didn’t we Thomas?” Jo said after a moment.

”I suppose we did.” Replied Thomas.

As Dirk insisted on hearing the story, Todd couldn’t help but stare at his parents in stunned silence. His mother had just compared his and Dirk’s first meeting to hers and her husband’s. Todd was no holistic detective, the universe didn’t give him hunches, but he was beginning to get the creeping feeling that there was a misunderstanding between him and his parents. Dirk however didn’t seem to notice.

”How did you two meet?” Dirk asked Jo and Thomas. ”I’d love to hear the story!”

”Oh man.” Amanda laughed. ”Here we go.”

”It’s a great story!” Said Jo. ”I was in a band.”

”Like Todd!” Exclaimed Dirk.

Jo smiled knowingly. ”Yes, where do you think he got his musical talents from?” She said.

”Me, of course.” Said Thomas.

”Please, our guitar skills go way beyond your cute little bass.” Jo challenged.

”And I can drum you all under the table.” Said Amanda. ”Get on with the story, mom.”

”Right.” Jo said. ”So, I was in a band and we wanted to participate in this battle of the bands type thing at a local pub. Problem was, we were all 17, juniors in high school, and one of the requirements for signing up was to be 18 or above. So we needed someone older.” Jo explained.

”So imagine this,” Thomas jumped in, ”I’m at my locker at school and this girl, dressed in all black with crazy spiky pink hair, walks up to me and says ’you play bass or something, right?’ No introduction or nothing.” He said.

”I’m nothing if not efficient.” Remarked Jo.

”That you are, babe.” Thomas agreed. ”So I said yes. She confirmed that I was indeed 18 and before I knew it, I was in a band. A previously all girl band too, mind you.”

”Compromises had to be made.” Said Jo. ”So we had an 18-year-old to sign the form. And we rocked, hard.”

”Did you win?” Dirk asked.

”No.” Replied Thomas.

”It was rigged to high heavens!” Said Jo. ”We should have won.”

”I feel like I did win that day.” Thomas said.

”Aww,” Said Jo, ”You’re such a sap. That was the day we got together.” She added for Dirk’s benefit.

”And by ’got together’ she really means hooked up.” Amanda remarked.

”Yeah, well, it worked out.” Said Jo.

”That’s an amazing story!” Dirk agreed.

”Told ya.” Said Jo.

”Well, it’s not quite as dramatic as breaking into the other’s apartment by accident.” Thomas said.

”Yes, well, at least she didn’t throw a shoe at you.” Said Dirk and gave Todd a pointed look.

”Todd!” Exclaimed Jo.

”I thought he was a burglar, what was I supposed to do!” Todd in turn exclaimed.

”First thing I said to you was ’hi!’ What kind of burglar greets his victim!” Dirk argued.

”A bad one?” Todd remarked.

”Yet somehow you ended up working together, is that right?” Asked Thomas.

”Yeah, we work together now.” Todd confirmed.

”And what is it that you do, exactly?” Thomas asked.

”I’m a holistic detective. Todd is my assistant.” Explained Dirk.

”A holistic detective? What’s that?” Thomas asked.

Dirk was right about to leap into his ’the interconnectedness of all things’ speech as Todd jumped in. ”It’s a type of private detective. More of an… Open-minded approach than the police.” Todd explained. He could hear Amanda holding in laughter next to Dirk.

”I see. Cool.” Thomas said.

Todd took a sip of his wine, hoping his father was done with the topic of their job. There’s not much he could actually tell him about it without sounding like a crazy person.

”So, how long have you two been together exactly?” Jo asked.

Todd spit some wine back into his glass in his surprise. There it was.

On second thought, maybe they should be talking about time traveling and purple people-eaters instead. Or maybe even Todd’s fake pararibulitis.

”Almost 7 months!” Dirk told Jo.

Todd shot him an alarmed look, trying to will him to shut up, but Dirk either didn’t notice or didn’t care.

”Wow,” Said Jo, ”That’s pretty serious.”

”Oh definitely.” Dirk replied.

Todd wanted to sink into the couch, never to be found.

”How serious would you say it is, Dirk?” Asked Amanda, clearly loving the turn of events.

”Shut the fuck up, Amanda.” Todd hissed.

”Mom, Todd said ’fuck.’” Said Amanda.

”I did not raise a snitch, Amanda.” Said Jo.

”7 months, huh?” Thomas repeated, changing the subject. ”How come we haven’t met Dirk before now?”

Todd thought his skin might melt off his face based on how badly it felt like it was burning.

”Uh… I- It never came up.” He explained lamely.

”Well, I for one am so glad to meet him now. You better come back here with Todd from now on!” Jo said.

Dirk’s eyes lit up. ”Oh I would love to, Jo, thank you!” He said.

”Of course!” Jo replied. ”I don’t remember the last time Todd brought someone home.”

”Oh my god…” Todd mumbled. He couldn’t believe this was happening.

”Well, I’m very glad he brought me!” Said Dirk. ”I should have known you two would be equally as lovely as your children!” He praised.

Jo lifted her hand to rest on her heart. ”Aren’t you the sweetest! Isn’t he the sweetest, Thomas?” She said.

”Indeed.” Agreed Thomas.

Todd couldn’t tell whether Dirk was deliberately indulging his parents’ idea of them as a couple, or if he really didn’t realize that’s what he was doing. Either way, Todd felt completely ganged up  on.

”As soon as Amanda said she really liked you, I knew you must be special. She’s never liked anyone Todd’s been with.” Jo said.

”Yeah, cause they were all losers.” Said Amanda. ”Which you, Dirk Gently, are not.”

”Why thank you, Amanda.” Dirk said, seemingly genuinely touched.

Todd tried to figure out where exactly this train had gone so far off the rails into Let’s All Embarrass Todd Town. He had to put an end to this.

”Dirk, join me in the kitchen, will you?” He said abruptly.

”Why?” Asked Dirk.

Todd bit his teeth together in frustration. ”I need more wine.” He said.

Dirk glanced at his own glass. ”I’ve barely touched mine though.” He said.

”Just come with me!” Todd hissed.

Dirk furrowed his brow in confusion, but nonetheless stood up and followed Todd out of the room.

”Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!” Jo yelled after them.

”That’s not saying much.” Thomas said, smirking.

”You wouldn’t have me any other way.” Jo countered and placed a sloppy kiss on her husband’s cheek.

”Fuck me.” Amanda huffed and finished off her wine.

As soon as Todd stepped into the kitchen, he turned around to face Dirk, who almost ran into him.

”What are you doing?” Todd asked.

”I was just going to ask you the same thing.” Said Dirk.

”I’m serious, Dirk.” Todd added.

Dirk furrowed his brow. ”I don’t know what you’re talking about, Todd.” He said.

”I’m talking about you, out there, with my parents.” Todd tried to get Dirk to understand.

”Did I do something wrong?” Dirk asked, now worried.

Todd blinked a few times. ”You really don’t know what I’m talking about, do you?” He finally asked.

”No?” Dirk replied.

”My parents think we’re a couple.” Todd explained.

”A couple…?”

”Dating, in a relationship, romantically involved!” Todd huffed in frustration.

Dirk looked genuinely surprised. ”They do?”

”Yes!” Todd exclaimed. ”And you’re confirming it for them!”

”I am?” Dirk asked.

”Yes! Obviously!” Said Todd.

”Are you certain, Todd?” Dirk asked.

Todd sighed. ”Jesus, Dirk, my mom basically compared us to her and my dad! And you went along with it! And Amanda, fucking Amanda… How did you not pick up on the comment about people I’ve dated in the past?” He said.

Dirk thought for a moment. ”Why doesn’t anyone use the word ’dating’, it’s all so vague.” He finally said.

”Only to you.” Todd huffed. Dirk looked annoyed and Todd felt bad. ”Sorry, I just… I wasn’t sure if you didn’t realize what was happening or if you deliberately went along with it.” He explained.

”Well, I did not. Realize or intentionally go along with it. I thought I was just making conversation.” Dirk said. ”I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.” He added.

Todd sighed. Now he felt like an asshole. Again. ”You didn’t.” He assured. ”I just… Sorry, I’ve just been on edge about seeing them all day and this, this misunderstanding threw me for a loop I guess. I didn’t mean to take it out on you. Sorry.”

Dirk gave him a soft smile. ”It’s alright.” He said. ”I’ll pay closer attention to others’ choices of words from now on.”

”Okay.” Todd said. ”I guess I’ll just… Have to correct them. God, that’s not gonna be awkward at all.”

”Sorry.” Dirk said again.

”Stop apologizing.” Todd said and grabbed a bottle of white wine. ”Let’s just go back. I’m guessing Amanda’s in desperate need of more wine.”

They made their way back to the living room, where Jo and Amanda were engaged in a seemingly heated discussion.

”Yeah, but who in their right mind doesn’t list Bikini Kill when talking about iconic punk bands with female vocalists!” Exclaimed Amanda.

”I simply didn’t get that far-” Began Jo, only to be caught off by her husband.

”Look, the boys are back! Let’s put a pin in this discussion for now.” Said Thomas.

”Kathleen Hanna would be so disappointed, mom.” Amanda said.

”Don’t you tell me what Kathleen Hanna of Bikini Kill would be at me, young lady.” Countered Jo.

”Uh, anyway,” Said Todd as he and Dirk took their seats next to Amanda on the couch, who immediately grabbed the wine bottle from Todd. ”Mom, dad, I should, uh, say something.” Todd added.

”Go ahead, honey.” Jo replied encouragingly.

Todd looked briefly at Dirk for reassurance and Dirk gave him a genuine smile and an encouraging nod.

Todd took a deep breath. ”Right, so… I don’t know where our wires got crossed but, uh… Dirk- Dirk and I are not dating.” He finally said.

Jo and Thomas didn’t say anything for a moment, only stared at Todd. They briefly shifted their

gazes at Dirk, after which they settled back on looking at Todd in confusion.

”What do you mean, Todd?” Thomas asked finally.

Todd blinked a few times in silence. ”I mean… That we’re not… A couple.” He repeated.

”Since when?” Asked Jo.

”Since always?” Replied Todd.

”I’m so confused.” Said Jo.

Todd sighed. ”Look, I don’t know what the hell happened, all I know is that you got the wrong idea. We’re just friends. And, you know, colleagues.” He explained.

”Are you sure?” Asked Thomas in turn.

”Am I- Yeah, I’m sure, dad.” Assured Todd.

”Dirk?” Asked Jo.

Dirk swallowed and shifted awkwardly on the couch. ”Yes, that’s right. I’m sorry if I implied otherwise before, I didn’t… I didn’t realize we were talking about two different things.” He said.

Jo nodded, thinking. Thomas took a sip of his wine. Amanda topped off Todd’s glass.

Finally after a minute or two of silence, Jo spoke again. ”Why?”

Todd turned to look at Dirk who simply shrugged. ”Why what?” Todd asked his mother.

”Why are you not a couple?” Jo clarified. Thomas hummed approvingly at her question.

”Oh shit.” Whispered Amanda into her wine glass.

”I- What?” Asked Todd. He didn’t dare to risk looking at Dirk right now, who was blushing rather violently next to Todd.

”Well, considering everything you’ve said tonight and us misunderstanding in the first place… Why is it that we got it wrong? Why aren’t you together?” Jo explained.

”Jesus christ, mom…” Todd sighed.

”What? Why is that such a strange question?” Jo asked.

”It isn’t.” Said Thomas. ”Since we thought-”

”I know what you thought!” Huffed Todd.

”I’m really sorry to have confused you-” Dirk tried to cut in softly.

”It’s not your fault, Dirk, stop apologizing.” Todd sighed.

”Yes, but why did you?” Pressed Jo. ”Look, all I’m saying is, to me it sounds like maybe it’s not such an impossible scenario for us to have conjured up.”

Todd could practically feel Dirk freeze up next to him. Todd himself felt like running out the door and never looking back. What, had his parents not forgiven him after all and this was their revenge?

”Mom, you can’t just say stuff like that.” Todd said quietly.

”Why?” She asked.

”Because- Because you just can’t.” Todd replied.

”Because it’s not what you want?” Jo asked. ”That’s okay, you’re allowed to say that.”

”No, obviously that’s not why, I-” Todd began, before immediately cutting himself off. He couldn’t believe he’d been that stupid. His mother played him like a fiddle. He’d eaten right out of her hand.

Jo was smiling now. ”I see.” She said. Yeah, I bet you do, thought Todd. He’d reacted exactly like she’d expected him to.

”Dude…” Said Amanda.

”Shut up.” Said Todd.

”What?” Asked Dirk.

Todd sighed and covered his face with his hands. Amanda lifted Todd’s wine glass from the coffee table and removed one of his hands from his face, wrapping it around the glass. Todd lifted the glass to his lips and took a generous gulp. Amanda patted his back encouragingly.

”Todd…” Dirk said softly. ”What-”

”Dirk, can we not…” Todd mumbled into his glass.

”Why not?” Dirk asked.

”What?” Todd asked in turn, now looking at Dirk for the first time in several minutes.

”What?” Dirk repeated.

”Oh my god,” Amanda groaned, ”You’re both into each other, have been since day one, which, shocker: mom and dad figured out before they even met Dirk! So please, for the love of all that’s holy, just finally make your peace with that so that we can go eat mom’s scorched ham and get on with Christmas.” She said.

As Amanda mumbled something along the lines of this is why I don’t do relationships and sipped her wine, everyone else digested what she’d just served them.

”Well said, daughter.” Said Jo finally.

”Thank you, mother.” Replied Amanda.

”Todd,” Said Dirk, ”Is that true?”

Todd swallowed awkwardly. ”I don’t know. Is it?”

”Jesus, do I need to do everything for you?” Asked Amanda.

”No, you shut up now. And maybe have a glass of water.” Said Todd quickly. Amanda flipped him the bird.

Jo stood up. ”I’ll go see if the ham’s calmed down. Amanda, come get a glass of water.” She said.

”I’m 24 goddamn years old…” Amanda mumbled as she followed her mother out of the room, her father on her heels.

Thomas shot a quick thumbs up at Todd and Dirk before disappearing into the kitchen behind his wife and daughter. Todd rolled his eyes.

”So.” Said Dirk.

”So.” Repeated Todd.

”Is this going to be one of those things we just don’t talk about, or…?” Asked Dirk carefully.

Todd sighed. ”As much as I want to say yes,” He said, ”It probably shouldn’t be, right?”

”Right.” Agreed Dirk.

Neither of them said anything more.

Finally Todd groaned. ”I suck at this.”

Dirk chuckled. ”Well, I’ve never done this before, so, I can only assume that so do I.”

Todd laughed too and turned to look at Dirk. ”Did… Did Amanda have a point? And- And my parents for that matter.” He said, his voice much softer now, insecure.

”Yes.” Dirk replied immediately. ”Well, I mean… I hope so.” He added.

”Yeah?” Todd asked.

”Yes.” Dirk assured him.

”Okay. I mean… Yeah, me too.” Todd said.

”Really?” Dirk asked.

”Yeah, really.” Todd said.

Todd could’ve sworn he’d never seen Dirk smile brighter. It sort of made his stomach hurt.

”Maybe…” Todd said. ”Maybe we could talk about that more, you know, when we’re not in my parents’ house?”

Dirk nodded eagerly. ”I’d like that.” He said.

Todd smiled. ”Cool.” He said.

Dirk took a deep breath and let it out in a sort of relieved laugh. ”I just- I thought perhaps it was just me and that it would be horribly inappropriate if I-” He tried to explain.

Todd was hit with a strange mix of relief and guilt. He was relieved that Dirk seemed to be on the same page with him, despite Todd having never had the balls to even entertain the idea that he might be. Todd also felt guilty, because apparently Dirk had been convinced he couldn’t talk to Todd about this. Todd had made such strict rules for himself when it came to Dirk and any acknowledgement of any possible feelings regarding Dirk, that it had come across as totally unapproachable.

As if Dirk could read Todd’s mind, he added: ”That’s not your fault though.”

Todd sighed. ”I sort of have a history of not communicating what I’m really thinking.” He said.

Dirk smiled. ”Touché.”

”I’ll try harder from now on. Promise.” Todd said.

Dirk nodded. ”Okay.” He said. After a moment he continued. ”In the spirit of saying what we’re really thinking… I feel the need to say that this is perhaps the best Christmas I’ve ever had.”

Todd smiled. ”Yeah? I’m sort of a fan myself.” He said and took Dirk’s hand in his, intertwining their fingers.

Dirk looked down at their joined hands in wonder. Then he looked up at Todd with an expression that made Todd simultaneously want to look away and personally thank both his parents and Amanda for provoking this moment.

”Good news and bad news boys!” Amanda’s voice broke the moment. ”Good news: dinner is ready! Bad news: the ham didn’t totally burn so we still have to eat it!”

”You’ll eat it and you’ll like it or I’m cutting you off from wine!” Jo’s reply could be heard.

”Scratch that! Mom’s ham is the eighth wonder of the world!” Amanda backtracked.

”Damn right it is!” Said Jo.

Todd rolled his eyes as Dirk laughed.

”Wanna go pretend my mom can cook and answer more uncomfortable questions?” Todd asked.

Dirk grinned. ”Lead the way.”

They entered the kitchen, still hand in hand. ”I hear the ham’s somewhat edible after all?” Todd asked.

His mother turned to them. ”Of course it is! Everything’s going exactly to plan.” She said. Her eyes fell to their joined hands and she gave Todd the warmest of smiles.

”Smells great, babe.” Said Thomas. ”Sit down, everyone.” He added.

Once seated, Jo turned to Todd and Dirk again. ”So,” She said, ”Dirk, any plans for Easter?” She asked.

Dirk laughed, blushing. ”Not that I know of.” He said.

”We do an egg hunt, Brotzman style.” Said Todd. ”You’ll love it.”

Dirk smiled at him. ”Yeah?”

Todd smiled back. ”Yeah.”

Jo clapped. ”Welcome to the family, Dirk!” She exclaimed.

”Mom…” Todd warned, but his warning lacked conviction.

Thomas raised his glass in a toast. ”To Todd and Dirk!”

Jo raised hers in turn. ”To my match-making!”

Todd raised his glass. ”Fuck you all.” He said.

Amanda raised her already half empty glass. ”And to all, a goodnight!” She exclaimed.

Everyone laughed before taking a sip of their respective drinks.

The ham turned out to be surprisingly good, which didn’t stop Amanda from making jokes. Dirk did his best to hide his shock at what red wine actually tasted like and got Todd to finish his glass while he himself moved onto water. After a pleasant meal accompanied by lively conversation, Thomas talked Jo and Todd into playing the guitar while the rest of them sang Christmas songs. Well, Thomas did. Amanda drummed on the table and switched the lyrics to the parody ones from her childhood. Dirk didn’t know the songs to begin with, but that didn’t stop him from trying to sing along. Todd had to stop playing at one point because he was laughing so hard at the lyrics that came out of Dirk’s mouth when he tried to anticipate what Thomas would sing next. Jo and Amanda both agreed that Dirk’s lyrics were much more interesting than the original ones.

When his mother pulled him aside after their impromptu caroling, Todd remembered to be nervous about having to talk about the other elephant in the room. In the end, Jo only wanted to apologize for putting him on the spot earlier. She also said she was so happy to see him again after months, which said all that needed to be said. Todd knew they’d have to talk more in depth about his years of lying, but tonight was not for that. Tonight was for family, strange cooking, bad singing and good company.

If his parents shot him entirely too knowing looks when Todd stole a kiss from Dirk under the mistletoe later in the night, he didn’t notice. All Todd saw was the slow falling of snow outside the window and the blinding smile on Dirk’s face.

-

if you have ideas for fics, send me prompts! my inbox is always open! x

[onelastbreath-writes]

I Spy

Pairing: Frankie “Catfish” Morales/Fem!Reader (AFAB, no y/n)

Word Count: 1.7K

Warnings: Brief mention of bad(abusive/manipulative) parents, general adult topics, swearing.

Summary: You meet a cute guy at a bar, you date, you fall in love, and oops, it turns out you’ve both been lying about your careers. Classified only stays classified until you get assigned a mission together. (SpecOps&Spies, with Young!Frankie)

A/N: Hey guys, I was bad and started another fic. Whoops. This one is for Triple Frontier because I love that soft boi Francisco. The flavour of this fic, the vibe if you will, is basically the spiderman pointing meme. I’ve vaguely set the timeline to like mid-2000s? so I’ll be trying my best to stay true to technology and aesthetic of the era. There was so much denim. Anyways, that means I’m trying to write for about a 27-33 year old Frankie and a similarly aged reader. I don’t see this series being more than a couple chapters at best, so it’ll be short and sweet. Also, like, very little angst if I can help it; I just want this one to be a good, cute, fun read. Hope y’all enjoy! Xoxo

[AO3][Masterlist]

“So, you’re coming out tonight, right? You’re not busy or anything?”

“Please don’t say it like that, you know how busy work actually is. And I’m a grown woman; if I didn’t want to go to a shady dive bar with you and your very loud friends from the office, I’d say so,” You loved your best friend, and you missed spending time together, but you really couldn’t say the same for her co-workers.

You had nothing against the women she worked with, and you found that they were all perfectly lovely and usually quite fun to be around… it was just that when the alcohol came out, the volume control and verbal filters disappeared.

You wouldn’t say that barhopping was what you’d prefer to be doing tonight, along with more or less babysitting your friend and her friends, but you didn’t know when you’d next be able to squeeze in a night off to just hang out and have fun, so this was happening. You would laugh and smile and keep the drunk secretaries from going home with questionable people, and then you would look back on your ladies’ night with fond memories until you could eventually attend another.

You had known when you picked your career that it would be an around-the-clock, all-day, every-day sort of thing. You never deluded yourself into thinking you would have much of a social life or long-term relationships. Most partners, hell even most friends, would have a problem with you jetting off for weekends, or disappearing for days at a time under mountains of paperwork and appointments.

It just made your best friend that much more important to you. You’d met as kids, went through years of school beside each other, hung out, did stupid teenager things and then stupid young adult things together. You’d cried and laughed and fought and made up a million times, you’d gone to different colleges and still kept in touch, moved away, moved back, and you were still going strong. She was your ride-or-die, your anchor and your parachute and everything in between, so if you could use some of your precious, hoarded, blink-and-you’ll-miss-it time off to see her, that’s just what you’d do.

“You should take some of that fire, and direct it at your boss. Tell him no for a change. I’d love to see his face at that!” She meant well, always trying to look out for you and your health when it came to your beyond demanding job. You weren’t even allowed to tell her a fraction of what you were doing in your professional life, and she knew it, but that didn’t stop her from being ready to throw fists at your employer at a moment’s notice.

“One does not simply tell the über-rich that they don’t need to fly to Paris, again. Being a PA is a full-time nannying gig, except your charge is an adult who can argue when you say no, and you cannot put them on timeout when they’re being a brat. Where he goes, I go, and unless something drastic happens, it will probably continue on like that for a while.” She laughed at your jokes, and your heart hurt a little less at her glee. You knew she would never give up on you or blame you for your work being unpredictable, but that didn’t make the sting of last-minute cancels and missed outings hurt any less, for either of you.

“But it must be nice, just getting on a plane and going somewhere amazing at the drop of a hat. Travelling the world like a superstar, meeting people, having amazing adventures with mysterious strangers…”

“Easy there, Mamma Mia, your wanderlust is showing. And I’d take you with me in a heartbeat if I could. You were born to be a jetsetter, not to be stuck in this town with nothing but the office cubicle beside you to stare at. And I still think you should apply for one of those immersive culture grants you keep mooning over. They’d be fools not to fund your writing expedition!” She was an incredible person, three full degrees to her name in the time it took a normal student to get one, and a brain that could run miles around the rest of the professionals in her field. But she was tethered to this quiet backwater town, and she wasn’t free to fly like she deserved.

“You know I can’t just… go, like you can. My mom, it’d just break her heart… I don’t want to leave her alone, not after Dad,” You honestly doubted that you’d ever meet a woman more horrible and undeserving of her own daughter’s kindness. Helen was a parasite full of lies and manipulations and greed, and she had attached herself like a bad rash to your friend after she’d chased away the rest of her family members.

Your friend searched for the good in everyone, but you wished she’d stop looking for it at that home.

“You deserve your own happiness and freedom, and she should be encouraging you to spread your wings if and when you’re ready.” Politicking your friend was never something you enjoyed. She was the last person you wanted to use your negotiating credentials and sly subterfuge tactics against, but you wanted, needed, her safety and health more. You considered it almost bribery; dangling her dream future in front of her in exchange of being rid of the garbage in her life.

“Hey now, we’re getting way too deep into sad-drunk night conversations, and this is strictly a happy-fun-drunk night. Please leave all baggage and woes at the door, thank you!” You admitted your defeat and surrendered your verbal power point on Why Helen Needs to Disappear. You would get her next time for sure, give her the accelerant to burn down that bridge. “Anyways, the reason I called was to remind you of our haunt for the night. One of the girls, Kelly, you remember Kelly, found this adorable little hole in the wall. A total boys’ club apparently: darts, pool, sports games on the TV, but Kelly’s sister’s friend’s brother Tyler said the place was a favourite of the local army guys. So, if nothing else, we’ll at least have some hunks to look at for a while. It’ll be great!”

You jotted down the directions to the bar as she listed them, and the time you were expected to arrive there.

“Oh! And wear that cute little blue number you bought last spring; I know you still have it so don’t you dare lie. It makes your ass and legs look divine, and I think you could stand to make a new acquaintance tonight.” That Little Blue Number was buried in the back of your closet where you had hoped it would remain forever, but luck was not on your side tonight it seemed. But it did make you look, and feel, fantastic.  It was just so… breezy. “And heels! Real ones, not your cute little personal assistant kitten heels. Those black strappy ones would work like a dream!” You just sighed dramatically into the receiver and agreed to her demands.

“I’ll let you go now, and yes, I suppose I can be presentable tonight, dress and all. See-ya later!”

---

Hole in the wall was right. This place was basically underground it was so on the D.L. It was warm inside though, and in the middle of autumn with so much skin on display, you could not be more pleased to get away from the chilled outside air.

You would describe the interior as comfortable with a hint of rustic; lots of warm dark wood and low lights, mixed with the soft Latin music crooning in the background and the few patrons’ conversations adding to the ambience.

All in all, it was probably the nicest dive bar you’d been to in your hometown.

Your party was easy to spot where they had claimed a group of pushed together tables towards the far side of the establishment, and you carefully made your way over to them in your tricky high heels.

You said your hellos to returning faces and introduced yourself to the new additions, and accepted the chair you were pointed to and the drink pressed into your hand.

And so, the hours rolled.

You had enjoyed two fruity cocktails and a flaming shot before you called it quits on the alcohol for the night. You still had a few hours to sober up enough to drive home safely, and you would be able to help the girls get to their rides and ways home too. You appreciated having a social drink or two, but you didn’t care for hangovers and would happily take slightly tipsy over party-hard drunk anytime. Plus, your contract stated you were on-call, always, and you could be required to navigate high-stress negotiations at the drop of a hat. It was just better to cut yourself off, then reap the consequences of your actions later.

You tapped your friend’s shoulder as you walked past and leaned over to talk into her ear. “I’m getting some water for the table; do you want anything else?”

“Mmmm, no I think we’re good for now, thanks!” She was plastered already, but she had a huge grin on her face and was laughing at her co-workers’ stories, so you considered it a win of a night. You gave her a pat goodbye and swayed your way to the bar.

But you just were not accounting for the uneven floorboards, or how much your heels affected your currently less than steady equilibrium, and before you could blink you were teetering over into a nasty fall.

“Whoa there, easy does it, muñequita” Arms wrapped around you and pulled you back into a warm chest. “Careful now, don’t go twisting an ankle in those fancy shoes.”

You certainly did not account for the man you turned around to face. Wow.

His hands glided respectfully from where he had caught you around the waist to your still bent and held out elbows, steadying you as you swayed dangerously again.

Warm brown eyes, soft brown curls, and the sweetest smile you’d ever seen. It felt like your heart was going to beat out of your chest, and you knew that it wasn’t left over adrenaline from your near wipeout. He was gorgeous and handling you so gently, and you wanted to spend forever in that moment.

“Hey there, palomita, I’m Frankie, can I buy you a drink?”

[Next Part]

[tchallasbabymama]

Stay

Hey y’all, here’s chapter 3 of my “Playlist” series (formerly untitled T’Challa fic). Let me know if you want to be tagged in anything! Make sure you read chapter two HERE first and check out my Masterlist. Word Count: 5916

CW: smut

“Let's go somewhere I don't have to work so hard to keep us from drowning, eh?”

“Where do you have in mind?” Ashanti asked him while peppering his jawline with kisses.

Ashanti’s mouth hung open as the lights came on around her. She couldn’t believe she was actually standing in the King of Wakanda’s royal quarters, and on their first date at that. His hands grabbed her waist and brought her from her stupor. He pulled her back into him and nuzzled into the crook of her neck before lightly kissing up to her ear.

“T’Challa, stop, it tickles,” she barely got out between giggles. His hands snaked around and gripped her fleshy stomach, tickling her more. “You put too much wine in me to be tickling me like this.”

T’Challa chuckled and let her out his grasp before pointing to a door on the far wall.

“Bathroom’s through there,” he kissed her cheek, then shook his head as he watched her ass shake while she walked away.

 “Damn.”

Ashanti knew he was watching and sneakily smiled to herself before her expression dropped at the sight before her. She thought the king’s bedroom was nice, but it was nothing compared to the dream jungle spa bathroom she walked into. Tropical plants were scattered around the floor-to-ceiling bamboo room, all under a pyramid glass ceiling. The sunken jacuzzi in the middle of the room was obviously the main attraction, but her eyes were drawn to the rain shower and she forgot why she was even there. 

She caught sight of a vanity and went over to set her purse down, checking out her reflection in the mirror.

“Thank Bast I kept the makeup simple.”

Meanwhile, T’Challa poured himself a drink to calm his nerves. He was fine until she went to the bathroom, but her absence smacked him back to his senses. He brought this woman he barely knows into the palace. Into his quarters. It wasn't an issue of security, he had already thoroughly vetted her, but his willingness to have her in his space shocked him. He never brought women back to the palace, not since Ramonda caught him sneaking two very tired-looking young ladies out one morning when he was home from college. Normally he would go to their place instead, enjoying the freedom to cut their time together short and leave whenever he wanted. But no, this time he brought his date home, and it baffled him. 

The alcohol was doing absolutely nothing for him so he decided to roll up instead. He broke down the Snow Goddess OG and filled up his hemp wraps before licking it and rolling it tight. Right as he lit it, his ears perked up at the sound of the bathroom door opening, which he could barely hear over the music he had started up.

Don't talk

Just listen

First of all

I have to be honest with you baby

I lied

When I told you I never wanted to see you again

Can you please stay

Just for tonight

And maybe we can do something

Like make love

Watch the sunrise

Or listen to jojo, k-ci, sing us a verse

Slide closer baby

Ha, that devante baby

Oh you feel so sexy, so good

“Come join me on the patio” he shouted to her from outside.

When Ashanti stepped out the patio doors she was shocked once more.

“This view is...,” she gasped, trying but failing to find the words. She could see all of Birnin Zana and even some of the Mining and River provinces, and of course the Jabari mountains in the distance. A tear came to her eye as she looked out over her beautiful home. Suddenly the hairs on the back of her neck stood at attention and she felt T’Challa come up behind her. He leaned on the railing next to her, holding his expertly-rolled blunt.

“You should see it at sunrise and sunset, the most beautiful view in the world.”

“Is that an invitation, your highness?”

He playfully rolled his eyes at her platitude and lifted the blunt, offering it to her. She placed it between her lips and he lit the tip for her. She took a couple hits before passing it back to him.

“So you’re a chef and a stoner. What else don’t I know about you?”

T’Challa laughed and gave it some thought.

“Lets see...I’m an excellent dancer, my love language is touch, I strongly dislike musicals, I’m sure you can guess my favorite color-”

“It's yellow, right?” She said sarcastically, making him laugh more and cough a little from the smoke.

“You are so observant. You know, I like that about you.”

The two fell out laughing, and Ashanti was the first to regain composure.

“Wait what do you mean you hate musicals?”

“Just the serious ones. Drama and random singing don’t go together well in my book.”

He passed the blunt back to her and she took a long drag before letting the smoke migrate up to her nose. When she exhaled the smoke she caught him staring at her, and averted her eyes.

“There’s no reason to be shy, I only bite when you want me to.”

She felt a throbbing in her panties again, just like earlier at the lake. She knew why she came here, but now that she was in his room at the palace it seemed all that confidence from earlier at the lake had left her. 

“Lets just enjoy each other’s company, no pressure. Would you like something to drink?”

“What do you have?”

“...everything.”

“Oh right, it’s the palace, duh,” she chuckled nervously. “Mango juice?”

“Coming right up. Care to join me? I can give you a quick tour.” T’Challa said before he could catch himself.

“What the fuck am I doing?”, he thought to himself. Here he was, inviting this woman into his inner sanctum after one date and offering her a grand tour of the palace. The logical side of him knew it was too soon, but the emotional side of him couldn’t care less. He wanted this woman in his life. He wasn’t the only one surprised by his willingness to let her into his world.

“Do you do this for all your suitors?” she asked playfully as he opened the door for her and led her down the hallway to the same elevator bank they arrived in.

“No, actually. I do not,” T’Challa responded, prompting Ashanti to blush at his words and change the subject.

“So you have the whole floor?” They stepped in the elevator and went down several stories. “What about everyone else?”

“They have their own floors as well,” he leaned into her ear. “Mine’s just on top.”

They exited the elevator and once again Ashanti was floored by the sight in front of her. Not of the kitchen, but of the rest of the royal family in the living area. 

T’Challa hadn’t expected anybody to be awake at this hour or he wouldn’t have suggested she come with him. Three sets of eyes turned and stared at the two of them, jaws dropped.

“Oooh someone’s in trouble,” Shuri said as N’Jadaka snickered.

“H-hello usapho,” T’Challa stuttered, making his sister and cousin laugh even more before Ramonda shot them a look to shut them up.

“T’Challa, your friend looks to be on the verge of a heart attack. Are you alright dear?” Ramonda asked.

“Y-yes Queen m-mother, your highness, um- ma’am” Ashanti quickly corrected her mistake and saluted the royals.

“There is no need for that. Come join us, we just started an American drama N’Jadaka suggested called- oh what is it again Daka?”

“Love Jones, auntie,” he said with the frustration of someone who had clearly answered the question more than once. 

“Yes, that is it. There is space for you both over on the couch. Shuri, come join me over he-” she motioned for Ashanti to come join her on the couch and as she took a step forward, a strong arm lightly tugged her back.

“Mama, that is not necessary, we just came down to grab something to drink.”

“And you can still do that,” the Queen Mother snapped at her son. “Young lady what is your name?”

“Ashanti Mostafa, ma’am.”

“The jewelry artist?!” Ramonda said excitedly while Shuri tore her eyes away from the screen.

“I must say, your work is beautiful, dear. That necklace is one of my favorite gifts unyana wam ever gave me, your talent is astounding.” Ramonda showered Ashanti with praise and she almost couldn’t take it. 

“I wore it yesterday and had several people asked about it, so you might be getting a few more customers soon!” Shuri chimed in.

“Wow, I-...thank you so much.” Ashanti wandered over to the couch and sat down, much to T’Challa’s dismay. He joined her, sliding his arm around the back of the couch.

“So, how was the date?” N’Jadaka pushed.

“Can you mind your business, please?” T’Challa said and shot him a glare, while Ashanti chuckled.

“Must have been good since you brought her back here,” Shuri whispered, leading Ramonda to pinch her arm. 

“So what is the movie about?” Ashanti asked the prince, trying to change the subject. He caught on to her game, but let her off the hook for now.

“Love Jones, it’s a Black American classic. A romantic drama,” N’Jadaka wiggled his eyebrows at his cousin and winked at his date. Ashanti blushed and looked back to T’Challa who was leering at the cheeky prince. She placed her hand on his thigh and he looked at her, removing the scowl from his face. They shared a smile as the other royals tried not to notice the cute moment.

Ashanti and the royals watched the movie in relative silence with T’Challa’s arm steadily sinking lower and lower until it finally rested around her shoulders. Ashanti leaned into his side, and his free hand found hers and intertwined their fingers. Halfway through the movie, Ashanti was lightly snoring on the king’s shoulder, and Shuri and N’Jadaka were out, too.

“I like her,” Ramonda whispered across the room to her son, half sleep herself.

“I do too,” he whispered back before kissing her forehead.

“I can see that. Well I don't want to fall asleep out here like you young folks, so I will see you all in the morning.”

“Good night umama.”

“Good night, son. You be good to that one,” she lightly scolded her son as she woke up her daughter and nephew to usher them out the room.

“Yes ma’am.”

T’Challa spent the rest of the movie panicking about what to do next. Should he stay still and let her sleep uncomfortably on the couch, should he wake her up to go home, or should he carry her up to his bed like he had wanted to do all night and let her sleep there? He didn’t want to seem too forward and he wasn’t sure about how she would feel waking up in his bed, but he knew waking her from her sleep wasn’t an option. Just as the credits finished rolling and he had decided to stay in that position for as long as she did, Ashanti started to stir. 

“What’d I miss?”

He loved how her voice sounded after just waking up, the raspiness tickling his ears. She untangled herself from him and stretched her arms wide.

“The rest of the movie,” T’Challa gestured to the screen and smirked at her.

“That was so rude of me in front of your family, I am so sor-”

“Ashanti, it's no big deal. Umama and I were the only ones who didn't pass out and she went to bed halfway through.”

Ashanti nodded and let out a yawn. Thankful for her lack of morning breath, she leaned in to lightly kiss his lips.

“Mm, what was that for?”

“For being so comfortable to sleep on. I mean, damn.”

The two started laughing before the king looked the artist right in the eyes and pulled her in for a deep, slow kiss. Ashanti’s hand trailed up from around his abdomen to cup his cheek and his hand came up to grip her thigh while his other arm pulled her into him. She was wrapping her leg around him when a cough interrupted them. T’Challa pulled away from the kiss, turning instead to glare at the third person in the room. Ashanti hid in the crook of his neck, embarrassed to be caught by whoever.

“Aren’t you supposed to be asleep?”

“I came for my shoes. Auntie got us out of here so fast earlier I forgot to grab em.”

N’Jadaka quickly walked around the couch, found his shoes, and dipped. When he left, Ashanti lifted her head then her whole body from his lap. He looked like a sad puppy when she left his embrace, missing her warmth immediately. 

“It’s late, I should g-”

“Stay, please. It is late and I have a whole ‘king size’ bed you can have to yourself.” T’Challa almost begged her. She pulled him up and off the couch, leaning in to plant a soft kiss on his jaw. She could hear the song they were listening to before they left his quarters playing in her head.

Sorry I left you

Left you cryin

But since you've been gone

I've been all alone

'Cause all of my tears

You know they left me drownin

Please baby I'm beggin

For you to stay at home

Tonight

Let's start our love again

Tonight

We can be more than just friends

Don't you know

The sun

Is going down

So baby won't you just stay

Baby won't you just stay

For a little while

Baby won't you just stay

For a little while

Baby won't you just stay

For a little while

Baby won't you just stay

For a little while

Baby won't you just stay

“You don't have to give up your bed, that I’m sure is the most comfortable thing in all of Wakanda. ‘I only bite when you want me to’,” Ashanti teased, throwing his own words back at him.

“So you’ll stay?”

“I’ll stay. I’m too tired to go anywhere anyways, I can barely- T’Challa!” she squealed as he picked her up bridal style. She clung to his neck and laid her head on his chest, too tired to fight him on it. She nuzzled into his neck as they rode the elevator back up to the top floor.

She was so tired she almost fell asleep again on the ride up, but the automated voice letting them know they had arrived woke her from her half-slumber. 

“This man is just too damn comfortable,” she thought to herself. “He smells good, he’s warm...”

Just as she was sinking back into her relaxed state he placed her down at the foot of the bed.

“All I have for you to sleep in are my clothes, if that’s alright with you.”

“It is.” she smiled wide then started to take off her jewelry.

The king watched her from above in his standing position and stopped her from reaching for her shoe buckle.

“Here, let me,” he said softly before sinking down to one knee and pulling her foot into his lap. He unbuckled her sandal and pulled it off before kissing her ankle, and he did the same on the other side. Her eyes hung low with lust and fatigue, but she was laser-focused on him, trying to figure out how he knew that was her spot.

“Um, T’Ch-Challa?”

“Hm?”

“We should, um-”

“Yes, I’ll be back,” he cleared his throat and stood before turning and disappearing into what Ashanti assumed was his closet when he emerged with an Oxford t-shirt. “I already had the staff bring you a toothbrush and toothpaste, a silk scarf, black soap, and shea butter for your beauty and hygeine needs. They’re, uh, on the sink in the bathroom there.”

“Thank you, T’Challa,” she said with a soft voice.

“Don’t say my name like that if you want to sleep tonight. You’ve been warned.”

She jumped up from the bed and scurried to the bathroom to brush her teeth and shower. After she came out, he went in, taking a much quicker shower and emerging from the bathroom in nothing but a towel while Ashanti slid on her nightgown for the night. She didn't notice him at first, but he noticed her thick brown legs peeking out from his old college t-shirt and his towel jumped. By the time Ashanti realized he was even in the room, he had turned to go to his closet to pick out something to wear to bed. The king usually slept naked, but he had a couple of sleepwear options just in case. He slid on a pair of black silk pajama pants and padded back out to the bedroom.

Ashanti was climbing under the covers on his side of the bed, so he scooped her up and placed her gently on the left. He pulled back the covers for her and she slid under, then he climbed in bed on top of her and kissed her forehead before rolling off her to the other side of the bed. She couldn't help but giggle at his antics.

“Goodnight Ashanti.”

“Goodnight T’Challa,” she lightly pecked his lips then snuggled down into the covers. She was right about it being the most comfortable bed in the world, and she fell asleep almost instantly. T’Challa stayed up a short while watching her sleep before exhaustion overtook him as well. 

Throughout the night Ashanti kept moving closer and closer to T’Challa until she ended up wrapped around him. Her leg was thrown over his side and his arm had come down to hold it in place while his other arm tucked around her midsection. When she eventually tried to roll away, his arms wouldn’t let go, but instead he rolled with her, spooning her from behind. 

They spent the rest of the night connected, both physically and mentally, each dreaming of the other. 

When morning came, T’Challa was the first to arise, in more ways than one. His dream had been salacious and his morning wood was something fierce. He tried his best to move his pelvis away from Ashanti, but she would move with him searching for his warmth. He eventually gave up and tried to focus on anything other than his erection, landing on her braids that were tied back yet still somehow sprawled out everywhere. 

“I could get used to waking up like this,” he mumbled, the rumble in his chest waking her from her resting state. Her hand came up and caressed the arm that held her tight around her midsection, intertwining their fingers and turning around to face him, placing his arm back around her. 

“Good morning beautiful,” he said grinning from ear to ear. Ashanti nearly melted at his husky morning voice. She wanted to hear it more often. 

“Good morning your highness,” she giggled as he growled and tickled her sides.

“What did I tell you about that?”

“N-nothing, my warning was about your name!” she got out between laughs. In all her struggling to get out of his grasp she somehow wiggle her way back on her other side to escape the bed, only to be pulled back into the grasp of the Black Panther. When he pulled her into him he had forgotten about his situation, but she quickly became aware of his hard dick. 

“I am sorry-”

“Don’t be,” she said as she grinded her hips into his, his dick resting comfortably between her cheeks.

“Mmm, Ashanti you’re playing with fire.”

She turned back to look at him as her hips moved round and round.

“Burn me, then.” She reached out to pull his face into hers but he resisted.

“Do you have to work today?”

“Well, yes, but-”

“Then not today. I want to take my time with you, plus you’ll need more than a couple hours to walk again.”

His threat did nothing but rev her up more.

“It is good to know you like morning sex, though. I’ll keep that in mind,” he teased.

Ashanti rolled towards the edge of the bed and threw her legs over the side. He looked at her with concern, but when she looked back all he saw was lust.

“I can’t lay next to you then, it’s too tempting.”

“‘It’ as in…?” T’Challa pointed down his body.

“Yes! I saw that monster at the lake, keep it away from me unless you plan on doing something with it.”

T’Challa chuckled.

“I can respect that,” he got up from the bed and held his hand out to her. She took it, tentatively, and followed him out to the patio. He pointed to her left at the rising sun and her mouth fell open when she turned around and took in the sight before her. The sunrise over Wakanda was even more beautiful from this height. She leaned into his shoulder and he kissed her forehead. The two of them stood like that for at least 15 minutes, just enjoying each other’s company.

_________________

Ashanti knew her roommates would give her shit for coming home at this hour wearing the same clothes she left in, but what she didn't expect was a damn welcome party.

“Oh my Bast, there she is. Tell us everything!” Binta screamed as Kwame rounded the table to attack her with a hug. He pulled back and took in her appearance.

“Why do you look so well-rested? You're supposed to be crawling right now,” he said, checking for bags under her eyes. “You're too put together. Spill!”

“Ok ok, damn. Can I get comfortable first before I tell you the story? Can I do that?”

“She’s too feisty, she didn't get any,” Binta whispered to her twin brother.

Ashanti shot them both a deadly glare on her way up the stairs to go change.

She made it to her room and caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. That comfortable bed and that comfortable man really had her looking more rested than she had in months. She quickly changed into sweats and a tank top before heading back downstairs to face her roommates.

She jogged down the steps, remembering she missed her morning run, and found them still in the kitchen digging into breakfast. She watched as they piled their plates high, and sat down while they enjoyed their breakfast.

“Ok girl, so tell us about the date and why you didn't come home until 8am.”

“So…,” she started as the twins leaned in. “The date was a picnic at some private lake. It was beautiful, and he cooked u-”

“The king can cook?!” Binta gasped.

“That's what I said! But yeah girl, he cooked us a whole caribbean meal because he knows how much I love the Lost Tribe and their cultures- by the way, have you heard of Jodeci? Anyways, we can come back to that. So we’re talking and flirting and we combined our favorite songs into one playlist, and vibed out talking about the music...then we went for a swim-”

“A swim? You got naked in front of the king?” Kwame asked, staring at her with accusatory eyes.

“More importantly, did he get naked? Tell me about the strength of the Black Panther, honey.”

“Chiiiiiiile, that man was carved by Bast, straight out of Mount Bashenga itself.”

Kwame and Binta swooned, he was the first to get it together and get back to the conversation at hand.

“Alright, so what happened next? You fuck by the lake?”

“No we made out in the lake...then went back to the palace-”

“The palace?!”

“The palace?!” the twins said in total shock from the new bit of information. 

“The palace, friends...and I ended up meeting the royal family on accident,” Ashanti watched her roommates’ eyes widen with every word, worried they’d pop out of their heads in a minute. “The Queen Mother and Princess Shuri complimented my designs, and we all fell asleep in the living room watching a Black American romance movie called ‘Love Jones’. Then when I woke up he asked me to stay…”

“Ok and you obviously did, so how many times did you get that back blown out?”

Ashanti chuckled at their impending let-down.

“Zero.”

“You expect us to believe- so you just slept there?”

“Mhm, in his bed...with him...all cuddled up. Then this morning we watched the sunrise over Wakanda and he made me breakfast. Woo, I almost fainted watching that man in the kitchen.”

They could catch flies, their mouths were open so wide.

“So let me get this straight...you had a romantic date with the king, made out naked in a private lake, he took you back to the palace to meet his fami-” Binta began.

“No, that was an accident. Carry on.”

“Ok whatever, so you run into his family, hang out with them, and then stay the night, had a romantic morning after, and at no time did you two get it in?! I don’t have your self control because, baby, I would’ve fucked that man in that lake.”

“I almost did, but my nerves kept getting in the way…”

“Oh honey, that’s ok. When’s the next date?” Kwame asked her.

A slow smile crept up Ashanti’s face and her eyes glazed over thinking about seeing T’Challa again.

“He has to go out of the country for the next week or so, but whenever he gets back I invited him over for me to return the favor and cook for him. You two need to make yourself scarce though.”

“That’s fine with me, I started seeing this hot mining tribe guy. Girl, he’s so strong from all that hard labor...woo,” Kwame fanned himself.

“And I have an open invitation to stay with Kiki, so I’ll go catch up with her while you catch that Black Panther dick.”

“Thanks,” Ashanti giggled out. Her friends were always so supportive of her, especially when dick was involved. They had been trying to get her back in the dating world for the last two years, but she had been so wrapped up in work that she barely had time for anything or anyone else. Her last relationship was short-lived and ended because her shop always came first. He was a good guy, but the sex was just alright. Before him was a manipulative piece of shit she stayed with for 3 years because she thought it was love, who cared more about his release than hers. Every man she’s ever dated left her either heartbroken or orgasm-less, and for years she wanted nothing more than to feel what she’s feeling for the king. Her friends knew she hadn't really had a proper dick-down and had made it their personal missions to get the cobwebs knocked off her pussy. The Black Panther seemed like the perfect candidate. 

“So, wow...the king?” Binta was still processing the information.

“You had to kiss a lot of frogs, but look at you now!” Kwame chimed in.

__________

When Ashanti got to her shop, she was met with the sight of an enormous bouquet on her stoop. She immediately knew who it was from, and one look across the street at her parents outside their restaurant told her that they knew too. 

“It was dropped off about an hour ago.” Chidi said loudly as he crossed the street towards his daughter to get a look at the flowers. It was a large bouquet of violets, her favorite.

“They’re beautiful,” Ashanti said with a goofy smile on her face. “Help me move this inside before they draw any more attention?” She and her dad brought the violets in and set them on her counter by the register. She stood back to admire them once more.

“So I take it the date went well?” Bisa asked her daughter, causing Chidi to roll his eyes and exit the shop while blowing his daughter a kiss.

“Mama, it was amazing! We already planned a second date for when he gets back in town.” Ashanti was giddy like a schoolgirl having her first crush as she told her mother the PG version of her date. 

“Oh, that sounds wonderful, baby!” Bisa pulled her in fora hug and kissed her forehead. “He sounds like a good man.”

“That he is.”

The two spoke for a little while longer before saying a quick goodbye and parting to tend to their respective businesses. When Ashanti was alone she let out a loud sigh, staring at the beautiful flowers from her suitor. She picked up the card and read his note.

Beautiful flowers for a beautiful woman.

See you soon,

T

She held the note close to her chest and rocked on her heels, letting the feeling of a crush overcome her. She reached down and tweaked her beads, causing their playlist to pull up and shuffle. Of course this was one of those times when the shuffle feature seemed to read her mind, and what she referred to as ‘their song’ from here on out began to play. She swayed along, remembering the feel of his hands on her body. His warm, large, strong hands...

So here we are

Just me and you

We're thinkin of the things

That we used to do babe

Tonight is yours, lady

Yours and mine

Let's try again to put our trust on the line, yeah

Tonight

Let's start our love again

Tonight

We can more than just friends

Don't you know

The sun

Is going down

So baby won't you just stay

For a little while

Baby won't you just stay

Throughout the day her mind flashed back to the night before, missing the feel of his lips, the smell of his skin, and those deep dark eyes that became black holes when he was all worked up. 

It was a busy day at the shop. A group of kids had come in for a pottery class in the back, and her jewelry was flying off the shelves. The art supply customers weren’t in short supply either, and she thought about finally hiring some help. Just as she finished dealing with a rush of customers and closed up the shop for her lunch break, her kimoyo beads dinged. She took a look and smiled at the name.

T: I miss you already.

She couldn’t help but smile from ear to ear.

A: I miss you too. How are the Avengers? 

T: A pain, as usual. All they do is argue with each other, I could get most of this done by myself. How was the shop today?

A: The busiest I think it’s ever been! I’m pretty sure I have your sister to thank for that. I’ll have to hire employees if it continues on like this. 

T: I can’t believe you’ve been doing all of that by yourself. Oh by the way did you get my gift?

She looked over at the violets on the counter and bit her lip.

A: I did! How did you know violets were my favorite?

T: I just took a wild guess.

A: Good guess…

T: I feel like I know you so well already after just the one date, tell me something I don't know about you.

A: I’ve never broken a bone before.

T: Really? I’ve broken bones more times than I can count. Thankfully with the heart shaped herb in my system, I can recover fairly quickly. 

A: What was your most embarrassing moment?

The bubbles disappeared for a moment. She wasn't sure if he was thinking on it or if he had to go, but then they reappeared.

T: My sophomore year of college, I was home for winter break and my umama caught me sneaking two ladies out of the palace. She looked so disappointed in all three of us, and I felt like an antelope in headlights. Until last night that was the last time I brought anyone home, by the way.

A: Two, huh?

T: That’s what you got out of the story?

A: uh, yeah, duh.

The two went  back and forth for the rest of the day before choosing to video chat that night. They laid up all night talking about everything and nothing, just enjoying each other’s company. There were long stretches of silence when one or the other focused on another task, but neither  could bring themself to end the call. It wasn’t until Ashanti fell asleep that he even thought about hanging up, but he let the chat continue for a few more minutes while he watched her sleep peacefully. 

Two weeks passed by with the king and the artist regularly texting and video chatting from across the world. They were both anxious to be back in the other’s arms, and couldn't wait for his mission with the Avengers to come to a close. It finally did, over a week past it’s supposed end date. When T’Challa  broke the news to Ashanti, her face lit up like a fire. He was set to come back Tuesday night, so they planned their date for Wednesday over yet another kimoyo chat.

“So what are you making me?” T’Challa asked her in jest.

In all honesty, she hadn’t thought very much about the menu. 

“It’s a surprise, mister.”

“Mister? There are so many better names you could call me-”

Sir? Daddy? Kumkani? Her mind raced through the possibilities, enjoying each one. In their kimoyo dates they both had a habit of getting frisky. Sometimes one or both of them would be naked or in some state of undress, and sometimes things escalated from simply hot to downright pornographic. Ashanti learned that the king was a dominant man with a filthy mouth who loves to watch her put on a show, with him as director of course. By day three he had Ashanti topless, sucking on her own nipples, and today she had her fingers deep in her pussy all up in the camera for him to see every drop. She wasn’t the only one on display, he had his vibranium-hard dick out in his hand, stroking from his balls to the tip of his dick, pulling back his foreskin on the way back down. When he came, she stared at the milky substance dripping over his fist and stuck out her tongue, wishing she could taste him, 

“You know, if you were here I’d expect you to clean this mess up. Right, kitten?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Uh-uh, not sir. You know who I am, don't you?”

“Yes.”

“Yes who?”

“Yes Kumkani.”

A wicked smile crossed his face and he chuckled lowly.

“Good girl. Are you tired already?”

“Baby I just drained myself on camera, be happy I can talk.”

“Mm, I like ‘baby’ too.”

Ashanti giggled at his one track mind, “Challa, let me get some sleep.”

“Alright, sithandwa. Sweet dreams,” he sighed then blew her a kiss. She blew one right back before cutting off the feed and laying her head down to rest, their song playing in her head.

Forget about yesterday

'Cause I want you so bad

Make love to me like you never had

My love

Is coming down

So baby won't you just stay

For a little while

Baby won't you just stay

For a little while

Next Chapter

[seasonsofeverlark]

Oktoberfest Effect

Author: @alliswell21​

Prompt: Town boys (drunk?) dare each other to venture into woods (Halloween night? [Oktoberfest]). Katniss saves Peeta (from peacekeepers? storm?) by pulling him into a cave for the night. (Drunk Peeta talks too much and is cuddly?) [submitted by @567inpanem​] 

Rating: Teen (for drunkenness)

Author’s Note: Thank you to @mandelion82 for lending me her beta services, and being a generally awesome cheerleader! Thank you @567inpanem for the prompt, I hope it brings you joy! Thank y’all for reading! 

Oktoberfest, originally from Munich, Germany, is a two week folkloric festival, celebrated between the third Sunday of September and the first Sunday of October. Copious amounts of beer get served worldwide to celebrate Oktoberfest…👀this fic doesn’t reflected the cultural richness of the festival and or what it represents!👀

Tags: In Panem AU; No Games AU; Not representative of Oktoberfest; Drunken Shenanigans; Thunder storms; Snarky!Everlark; Humor; Blink-and-you-Miss-it fluff. One Shot.

———————

Oktoberfest is one of my least favorite festivals in the small repertory of celebrations my District is allowed. 

It’s usually held in the beginning of October, after the first showers of Fall, and tends to last all day long, severely cutting into my hunting time in the woods, which comprises the bulk of my family’s livelihood. My mother is a healer, but people used to struggle to pay for her services back in the day, so she stopped charging anyone; people gave her what they could: rations, produce from their squalid gardens, old clothes and such. You’d think people would pay with coins, now that things have improved for common folks, but some habits die hard.

It’s probably the same reason we keep observing a holiday that’s real meaning has been lost to Panem since before the Dark Days; people just know that at some point, Oktoberfest was celebrated around this time, and people ate and drank ale by the bucketfuls, so that’s what they do today. 

By the same token, it’s the most popular festivity in District 12, since it’s the only day of the year in which drinking is sanctioned and even encouraged by the higher-ups of government. Trains come carrying ale, spiked ciders, and even hard liquor for the celebration. People like Ms. Ripper, who sells moonshine and white liquor in our black market, better known as The Hob, have free range to sell their wares openly, without suffering repercussions. 

The meek, dull denizens of District 12 drink the spirits by the gallons, just for the one day, and pass out in the most unseemly places around town, like savages. If something had become clear to me with the passing years, it’s that people tend to enjoy drunkenness to soothe their woes away, so it’s natural everyone embraces Oktoberfest.

But, as with everything, things aren’t as bleak as I tend to see them myself.

“Katniss!” My sister, Prim, calls breathlessly from the maypole circle, beckoning me over with one hand, while holding a bright, yellow ribbon in her other, “There still are a few ribbons left!” She shouts excitedly, her meaning plain: she wants me to join in the festivities.

Normally I’d shy away from any and all activities that would have me interacting directly with the townsfolk. It’s nothing personal against them, I’m just not used to being touched by anyone, except for my family, and weaving ribbons around the maypole practically ensures I’d be brushing up against any number of strangers …but, there are worse games to play, and I could never deny my sister anything, not even this. 

I make my way to Prim and reluctantly snatch up a pale blue ribbon from the ground. My sister’s smile is so bright I almost relax when the music starts, and the dancers take to moving in and out around the pole. 

It isn’t as bad as I was dreading it to be. The music is lively; the fiddler follows the dancers while the rest of the band plays on the makeshift stage a few feet away, and the pole is relatively short and moderately wide, so we make quick work of braiding a pretty pattern in one go. Also, people are at a respectable distance from one another, and most everyone feels as awkward around me as I feel around them, so they just give a wide berth when they pass me by.

Prim and I are laughing when the song comes to an end, and we take a minute to admire the pole’s multicolored design. 

There’s a line of smiling people waiting in the fringes to take the ribbons the opposite direction to unravel them and weave them together again. 

I pull Prim into a hug and kiss her blonde head, fondly. “Let’s give somebody else a turn, Little Duck.” Prim narrows her eyes just a smidge; she’s almost 16 and doesn’t appreciate the nickname as much anymore. “Let’s put some warm apple cider into you, yes?” 

Joy returns to her baby blues immediately. “Yes! We should go find Mother as well!” she says excitedly. 

“Let’s go then!” 

After finding our mother in the crowd, and haggling over three cups of cider and one bag of boiled peanuts, our mother suggests we go home early, before the party gets rowdy. 

An unfortunate byproduct of Oktoberfest with all the unchecked drinking is men get loud, bold and stupid. Better to clear out before that happens, because while crimes aren’t tolerated— under the influence or sober—people tend to get belligerent when alcohol is involved. 

President Snow died years ago, when I was Prim’s age. Many things changed drastically, like the abolishment of the Hunger Games, and a slightly better salary for miners, but the seemingly tolerant new government of Panem gives men a strange leave to criticize the Capitol while drunk…which technically, is still a crime in today’s Panem, just not as mortally dangerous anymore. Still, women try to haul their spouses home before they can say something incriminating and land themselves in prison.

Nothing can be done about the youngsters, though. 

With women trying to keep a leash and muzzle over the men, the teenagers have unhindered access to alcohol and close to no supervision; although spirits are supposedly only served to people 17 and older, I wouldn’t put it past the vendors to look the other way if a group of merchant kids pass a few extra coins across the table, when nobody is watching. 

If grown up men are loud, bold and stupid while drunk, teen and young adult men are even worse, and that’s without a gaggle of equally intoxicated girls egging them on.

This year— as in every Oktoberfest— the electric fence surrounding the district lays dormant and harmless, lest one of the hundreds of inebriated fools roaming the meadow fall into the wires and fry themselves upon accident.

Not that the Capitol cares if a few malnourished— probably discontented— miners fall dead during a district festival; people in 12 used to keel over from starvation all the time back under Snow’s regime, but those deaths were usually chalked up to any number of unrelated causes: pneumonia, heart weakness, black lung disease…anything, except starvation. But dying electrocuted on the very fence that’s supposed to keep us safe in our little district is unthinkable! The fence is there to keep dangerous beasts— and nutritious game alike— away from us.

District 12 remains that enduring jewel of Panem, where you can starve in safety! All we need is to drink the memory of our empty pantries away for another year, and everyone is happy. I sigh. At least they did away with the Hunger Games; now we have singing contests and trivia challenges playing on national television instead of the blood shed of innocent teenagers, which is certainly an improvement. Somehow it’s still not a fair bargain, but district folk will never complain about this particular trade; our children are safe, and we get to watch Capitol people make fools of themselves in front of everyone.

Mother, Prim and I make it home early enough to make a quick supper of roasted potatoes, salted fish and the last of the bakery bread I traded for this week. I make a mental note to bring down a couple squirrels to trade with the baker for more bread. The man is one of the few I can regularly count on to trade fairly with, so I always save him the best of my squirrels. 

By the time dinner is being cleared off the table, I can hear the murmur of families returning home from the meadow. A surge of nervous energy takes over me. I start bouncing my leg restlessly, peeking at the old clock hanging on the wall. 

“Are you going out again?” asks my mother. Her tone is light and her eyes focused on the heap of plates and forks she’s balancing in her hands. I know better than to believe she’s alright with me leaving again. 

“For a while,” I answer. 

“You could get stuck out there!” says Prim, clearly displeased. 

“I’ve been working on a shelter, just in case. I’ll be back before dawn if I can help it,” I say, brokering no arguments.

“Be careful,” Prim mumbles, her blue eyes pleading.

I stand up from my chair and plant a kiss on the crown of her blonde head. “I promise. Now, go make sure Lady is secured before I leave. I don’t want anyone getting any ideas seeing a goat loose out there.” Not that anyone would cross me knowingly, but people get a lot dumber while drunk. 

The sun set on the horizon long ago, but all my years sneaking around urge me to blend instantly with the river of dark-haired children trailing their dark-haired mothers and fathers all over The Seam. It certainly is an entertaining sight; the children are immensely happier than their parents, of course, bouncing and giggling, carrying in their spindly arms their Oktoberfest bounty of apples and freshly picked ears of corn stuffed into old burlap sacks, prizes given to them by the Capitol for every one of those silly games they played at the festival. At least they know supper won’t consist of tesserae bread tonight.

Reaching the fence will be trickier now that the meadow is crawling with blond merchants and peacekeepers patrolling the perimeter of the fence ‘for our safety’. A few miners remain, helping with the cleanup process to earn some extra money, but they are so few I can’t use our physical similarities to hide in plain sight. The merchants, meandering around the meadow, throwing nervous glances at the fence every so often, pretending they don’t care the thing is off, certainly hinders my ability to sneak around. 

I wasn’t the only person who ventured outside the fence by any means. Historically, people have snuck under the barbed wire links in the past to steal apples and berries, when the hunger pains were scarier than the bears and wild dogs roaming the woods; necessity is a great incentive, it either makes you very brave or very reckless…but the few merchants still hanging out here only linger ‘cause an alcohol-fueled thrill holds them captive. Tomorrow, when they’re home nursing a head-splitting hangover, they’ll go back to cowering at the sight of the fence. 

There’s a group of towheaded youngsters, singing obnoxiously, near the edge of the meadow. 

I roll my eyes and try to ignore them for the time being. Meanwhile, I skirt around the maypole, pretending I’m admiring the workers’ effort, pulling the pole out of the ground to haul it into storage until next year. It’s a massive effort, but all I can do is lament how now there’s gonna be a soft spot in the ground for a while there, even after they fill it back with dirt and rocks. 

I curse darkly under my breath when I startle at the sight of two peacekeepers passing by the merchant boys.

The singing stops while the townies nod politely at the albino buzzards. The boys stare at the peacekeepers until they disappear at a bend behind a big, tall retention wall where the fence stops into a jagged corner, and then the young merchants do something very peculiar…they start a round of ‘Row Your Boat’, holding up their fingers in some sort of countdown. Their voices are so shrill and out of tune, everyone around covers their ears and looks the opposite way.

I cock my head, studying the boys. They’re clearly intoxicated: red noses and ears, laughing at nonsense, and the biggest telltale, a bottle of white liquor passing around their misshapen circle. I realize, they’re not all teenagers. A few of them I recognize from my days in school, and I know for a fact two of them are married, and at least one of them has a child on the way already. 

I roll my eyes at their childish behavior. 

The peacekeepers appear again in the distance, and the singers stop their song abruptly. One of the older guys lifts his fingers up, showing all ten digits; he closes his fists quickly and opens them again, now showing seven fingers. They all giggle like lunatics, and I lose interest in them.

I round the cleaning crew closest to the fence, but suddenly, one of the townies stands up and starts calling at the top of his lungs, startling me.

“Hey, you! The girl with the braid!”

I whip around, because I’m 99% sure he’s talking to me! I’ve worn my dark, Seam hair in a single braid down my back for the last 8 years or so; it’s practical, really, to keep it that way. But that’s besides the point.

I wear my fiercest scowl on my face, and I get an uncomfortable jolt to the stomach when I realize I know this guy, the one waving at me while his companions guffaw around him, still intoning their childish ditty. 

Peeta Mellark, the baker’s youngest son, a boy I owe the biggest debt of my entire life, and for the first time since I can remember, he’s meeting my gaze without wavering. 

Debt or not, I have half a mind to stomp his way, grab him by the collar and shove him into the nearest tree in retaliation. My mouth opens to ask him what his problem is, when out of nowhere a pair of peacekeepers pop up from behind the retention wall, walking in the opposite direction of the previous set of guards. 

“Did you know it takes about a minute and a half to sing ‘Row Your Boat’ seventeen times?” Peeta Mellark chuckles, pink cheeks and nose, tilting his head towards the fence, and then his blue, sparkly eyes flit to the peacekeepers passing by; all the boys stop singing and nod at them in greeting. “Then, it takes like five minutes to sing something else, until we go back to Row Your Boat!” 

These guards must’ve crossed the other ones at some point while out of sight without me noticing. If I hadn’t been distracted by Peeta calling out to me, I would’ve run right into them on my way to the fence, if not flat out caught red-handed crossing into the woods, and how would I explain myself then?! Everyone in District 12 knows of my poaching proclivities, peacekeepers included, but that doesn’t mean I should go flaunting around my intention to trespass. Panem is still not completely free and whether people should have the right to escape into the woods for sustenance is still a murky topic…I’m not too keen on finding out if hunting is still a punishable crime by today’s parameters.

I turn my eyes back to Peeta, but he’s already singing and joking with his buddies, and although he seems to be invested in whatever shenanigans they’re doing, I’m not too sure he’s oblivious to me.  After all, he had to be watching me pretty closely to accurately guess I was close to being discovered. 

I huff. My debt to Peeta just increased, and I have no idea how to start paying him back for it. 

The peacekeepers are again out of sight; the merchants are singing again, and like before, people look away from their ruckus. There’s one boy with his fingers up…counting. 

Peeta’s watching me; he lifts 4 fingers offhandedly and turns to face his friends. 

Clever!

It’s a code, I gather. 

They’re timing the passing of the peacekeepers into the ‘blind spot’ with one song, then start a different one to predict when the keepers will be back on the retention wall.

I shake my head to clear off the hint of a smile taking over my face. The silly drunks aren’t as stupid as I thought, I guess. 

I make sure no one is looking my way; I also check the kid counting how many boats they’ve rowed, and leap closer to the spot I know there’s a loose link. I only have ten rows before the peacekeepers come back, so I make quick work out of the wires and slip to the other side fast. 

The drunk boys break into hoots and cheers once I’m in the woods, and despite myself, I look in their direction just to make sure nobody saw me scurrying out. I’m partially hidden by a tree, and should be safe now.

The cheering isn’t because I slipped out of the districteffectively; the boys are either harshly ruffling Peeta’s hair, or slapping him on the back. They’re all laughing and crowing something I can’t make out, but soon I see the glint of white uniforms out of the corner of my eyes, and hide deeper into the woods. 

I decide to check on my snares around here and head home right away. This was perhaps the worst entrance I’ve made into the woods, and too many know I’m out here as it is, but, if the townies are gonna act as a siren of sorts, better to use their system to my advantage. 

Then…I need to figure out how to finally speak to Peeta Mellark and start getting my ledger even with him. 

It’s completely dark by the time I reach my snares. I look at the sky and scowl. The stars are obscured, and the moon has a hazy ring around it. Clouds are rolling in too fast for my liking. Rain is coming, soon. So I make haste and run my fingers along the first wire I find. 

My snare wields two rabbits, and I bag them without resetting the traps. I figure one of these will be enough to hold my family over for a couple of days. I can make some coins out of the second rabbit, which should be enough until Oktoberfest has died down and business resumes as normal. It’s a good plan if I say so myself.

A peal of thunder breaks in the distance, and I grunt lowly. This night keeps getting worse by the minute; it’s good that I’m almost back to my entry point. I head back to the fence, where I can still hear the faint howls of laughter of the merchant boys. 

I’m 30 yards from the fence when another clap of thunder roars overhead, loud enough to reverberate in my bones; people beyond the fence shriek. I’ve only taken a step forward when lightning strikes, and I know the storm is hot on my heels. 

The chanting of the merchants is getting louder. I never thought I’d think this, but it’s a relief, knowing I can count on them to distract the patrols while I sneak back into the district. 

They’re egging and heckling each other like a bunch of rowdy hoodlums. 

“Go on! Ten coins says you won’t last a second!” 

“I say fifteen, if he brings back proof he was there!” 

Somebody belches loudly, making the rest giggle like school kids. 

I roll my eyes and try to concentrate on finding my loose wire in the distance. I’m only a few feet away from the fence, but it’s dark and windy. 

“Seeriouslee, though,” hiccups another, mispronouncing his words. “Gwhat should he…” hiccup, “bring?” Hiccup.

“Don’t know. A berry maybe,” 

“Or a bear bite!” cackles another. They all laugh boisterously. 

I wonder what they’re up to now. The fools! Don’t they know they should be running home for cover? The first raindrops are already falling. 

“Fine! Okay…I’ll do it! But I wanna see all that money now!” slurs a voice I recognize, because I heard it calling me less than twenty minutes ago. “Pay up!”

No! Not him! I think, feeling my stomach drop. Whatever it is they’re doing, doesn’t sound very smart. 

“Dis it?!” Peeta Mellark groans, “I’m taking all your money, so I can buy me a hen house! Dis not even ‘nough to buy me chicken feed!”

I hear grumbling nearby, and the clicking of metal, suspiciously similar to how coins sound falling on each other. I assume they’re shedding the rest of their money for Peeta to see. 

“‘Kay…‘Kay…better now. Okay. Imma go now. Hold me money, Rye…and don’t spend any of it! I counted it… it’s me money! Don’t steal it, or I tell Lavender you were smooching girls a week before you got married!” 

“Don’t you dare!”

“Don’t steal me money!”

“Fine!”

“Fine! And don’t tell father ‘bout dis either!”

Somebody yells, “Mellark, stop stalling!”

“Yeah! Get—“ hiccup, “on with it al—“ hiccup, “…ready!”

“Goin’, I’m goin’!” I hear a few murmurs.

I swear, Peeta Mellark! If you set foot in my woods, I’ll shoot you in the toes! 

I’m close enough to the fence to see a few lights flicking close by, but then another thunder drums, with a lightning to boot, and the rain droplets fall heavier. 

“Wait! White helmets!” hisses someone, and even I drop to the ground to hide. 

“Evenin,’ officers!” says Peeta. 

I can picture him in my mind’s eye, smiling the same way he used to in school when covering for one of his friends to the teachers. 

“Evening? It’s almost nine o’clock, boys!” says a woman. I’m not quite familiar with her voice, but I can surmise she’s one of the peacekeepers on patrol. “Curfew starts in 30 minutes, and a storm’s on its way. I suggest you all head to your houses.” 

“Yeah, we will finish pickin’ up our garbage and head right home, officer!” says Peeta, all polite and pleasant like. 

“Very well. You better clear out by the time we return, or we’ll have you spend the night in a cozy cell at the Justice Building,” says a gruff male voice, most likely the second peacekeeper. “Now, get on with the cleaning, gentlemen.” 

There’s a chorus of voices murmuring stuff like “Right away, sir!” and “Of course, officer.” A lot of movement and hushed conversations go on for a minute or so while I lay on my stomach like an idiot. 

I can only assume the peacekeepers are out of earshot when Peeta exclaims happily, “Aight! I’m goin’ in!” 

The others start fussing and protesting, talking over each other frantically: “You can’t go in!”, “Are you crazy?! You heard them, there’s a storm coming!”, “Stop being a damned hero, Mellark! You already showed us up, by speaking to Everdeen!” 

Peeta calls out, “Guys! Shut up! She’s the reason I wanna go in there! She ain’t back yet!” 

I frown. 

“Everdeen? Dude, she’s probably stalking a deer or somethin’…she’s fine!” says who I believe is his brother. 

“Well…but what if she needs help? Shouldn’t some’ne go get ‘er?” He sounds concerned and strangely hopeful. 

My stomach does a strange little flip at Peeta’s words, and then I have to shake my head to stop myself from being grateful for his concern. Outside of my family, Peeta Mellark seems to be the only person in this entire district who cares about me. 

“No! That girl’s half feral! All them wild things in the woods are probably more afraid of her than we are!” says Peeta’s brother. 

I find myself nodding in agreement, but scowling at the same time, because I’m not feral! I just hunt and enjoy the respect— bordering on fear— people have for me. 

It doesn’t matter, though! Right now I feel almost as silly as they sound, and I just want them to take Peeta home, so I can climb back into the district and go home myself.

“I’m still goin’ in!” I realize Peeta is looking for the spot I used to come into the woods, and I hear muttering and hissing trying to dissuade him from coming in, but he’s already pulling the wire the same way I did, and a moment later, he’s wiggling his broad frame under the fence like an inchworm rolling on salt. 

“No!” I huff under my breath, scrambling to get up, to push him back in the other direction, but then somebody is whispering harshly. 

“White helmets!” 

I’m not even surprised to hear Peeta’s so-called friends run away then. Coward merchants the lot of them!

A thunder booms above us, and I see Peeta struggling to pull through under the flash of the lightning that follows. It’s a miracle the peacekeepers haven’t seen him, splashing in the muddy pool forming rapidly under his body. 

“Ugh!” I finally find my feet and practically throw myself on top of his arms, to pull him in. 

Peeta shrieks, startled by my sudden appearance, so I slap a hand over his mouth to keep him quiet. 

“Hush! Or they’ll find us!” 

I pull him further out from under the wire. He seems to realize what I’m trying to do and relaxes his muscles, letting me guide him forward while propelling himself with the toe of his boots. 

There’s a bush just two feet away from us. I drag him with me on all fours and crouch behind it until the peacekeepers’ flashlights disappear. 

“Hi!” says Peeta.

“Shush!” 

“Sorry!” he whispers…loudly.

“Quiet!” I hiss, bringing a finger to my mouth, as if I was dealing with a toddler instead of a 20-year-old man. 

“‘Kay,” he responds, this time in an actual whisper. 

I still roll my eyes at him. 

Thunder and lightning and cold, stabbing rain fall from the sky unrelenting. 

“Listen, we can’t stay here too long; we need to crawl back into the district!” I tell him, peeking from behind our hiding spot to make sure we are alone. I can’t see very far ahead, but it’s obvious the meadow is empty now. 

“What?!” he calls loudly. 

“For goodness sakes!” I mutter in frustration. “We need to crawl back into the district, or we’re gonna drown out here!” I’m having to yell so he can hear me over the rain.

“Oh! O-kay!” he says, smiling beguilingly at me. “I came to get you!” he yells. 

I look at him, trying to convey all the annoyance I’m feeling towards him right now with just my facial expression, but I guess the moonlight is so minimal he can’t see me, because all he does is smile back at me.

“You’re welcome!” he yells after a second in a self-satisfied tone.

“For what?” I snap.

“For rescuing you, of course!” 

I stare at him, dumbfounded. “Rescuing— you…  what?!” I screech.

More thunder and lighting make it impossible to keep doing this where we are. And thanks to the storm, it’s too risky trying to crawl under the fence, too. Negotiating Peeta’s humongous body back under the railings in these conditions is just calling for trouble; we’ll either get found by the peacekeepers— if they’re still patrolling— or get hit by lightning; after all, the fence is meant to conduct electricity and fry whatever touches it. 

I’m lost in my head, thinking about our options at this point, when a bright flash cracks overhead, so strong, it makes everything look like it’s day time, and I fall back on my butt for how close Peeta’s face is to mine. 

“What are you doing?” I rasp.

“Wow! Has anyone ever told you, you have freckles over the bridge of your nose?” He asks, placing his two paw-like hands on my shoulders, pulling me back onto my haunches. “From close up, your face is as pretty as the night sky with all its coteslations!” 

“Hmm…no—nobody’s ever said…” I huff. “Come on. We can’t stay here.” I tell him, pulling him by the hem of his coat’s sleeve. “I think you meant ‘constellations’ by the way. Alcohol really messes up your speech, you know.” 

I think he says something, but I’m not sure, since the storm is swallowing up all the sounds around us. 

The going is slow, because we have to wait for lightning to illuminate our way, and once, I realized we were straying onto a different path from the place I have in mind. Plus, I have to keep trying to untangle myself from Peeta’s grasp, so I can feel around the way with my feet. Peeta talks too much…nonstop, and I think it’s mostly the alcohol talking, but ugh! Would it kill him to just be quiet for a second?!

He’s awfully clingy for such a big man. I mean, he’s grown a few inches since we were in school, and he used to be stocky and broad-shouldered, even as a teenager, on account of him being wrestling champion two years in a row, plus having to handle those heavy trays in the bakery and whatnot. 

I forgot where I was going with this?

Anyway, I hope the alcohol clears his system soon. He seems like an overgrown puppy at times, the way he trails after me and touches the end of my braid, which I guess he might be using as some kind of leash or rope to tether himself to me. Surprisingly, I don’t find it as annoying as I should. In fact, I find the warmth of his fingers… reassuring. 

“Stop!” I tell him, when I hear rustling nearby I know isn’t from the rain. 

A wild dog jumps in front of us, and I curse loudly. I should’ve grabbed my bow on our way out here, but I didn’t want Peeta to see my hiding spot; not that he’ll remember how to get to it, but he was able to find my loose chain in the fence, so…

I think the dog is coming after us. But before I can tell Peeta to run, he pulls me flush with his chest and somehow lifts me over his head like I weigh nothing. The dog is momentarily confused, and I take the chance to chuck one of my rabbits past it. The dumb animal looks at us curiously, but after a second, loses interest and goes for the easier, smaller prey.

I just got reminded of how strong Peeta is. 

“Thank you!” I call out when he lowers me back to his chest. “You can let go of me now. The dog’s gone, but there might be more around.” 

Peeta nods. His blue eyes are wide and alarmed, his cheeks, ruddy with booze just a few minutes ago, are drained of color. “Alright!” he gasps, clearly shaken.

I grab his arm and squeeze, leading him away from the spot. 

It’s times like these when I miss my old hunting partner, Gale Hawthorne; for starters, he would’ve had a bow on him…he would’ve shot and killed the dog. He would’ve had my back… but Peeta had my back this time, and he surely is no seasoned hunter, not even an outdoorsman, yet it was his quick thinking and sheer brute strength that saved my hide.

It’s also the reason Gale and I broke our partnership to begin with. Given the chance, he would’ve left Peeta stranded out here, instead of finding him shelter. But that’s his style, not mine, and Peeta has shown his worth twice tonight, inebriated as he is. 

I release a sigh of relief when I see the opening of a burrow on the side of a small hill. It’s not truly a cave; it’s much too shallow to be called that, but, I found it about a year ago, and have been carving it out little by little for these kinds of emergencies, when I need shelter on the run, and the concrete little shack by the lake is too far, and I want to stay close to the fence, anyway. 

“Oooh! Is this a cave? Is it abandoned? We ain’t gonna walk into some bear den or somethin’?” Peeta asks, bumping into my back when I stop to remove a few branches from the entrance of my little hiding spot. 

“Get in!” I command him, and he obeys at once. 

I take a few minutes to rearrange the branches at the mouth of the cave, just to keep the water from splashing inside, although we are soaked through our jackets. 

“Sit,” I tell him, bumping into him again when I turn to feel round the wall of the cave for my provisions. The little hollow is only 5 ft wide by 6 feet deep, so there isn’t much room to wiggle for two people even if we were both my size. 

Peeta has to hunch down as it is.

He’s quiet for the time being. My fingers touch the cool glass of the oil lamp I was feeling for, and right next to it, is a box of matches. I can finally breathe! 

I make quick work of the lamp, and we are finally in better shape than we were a moment ago. Peeta blinks owlishly at the lamp, and I can tell he’s surprised, but blinded by the sudden light. 

“Where are we?” Peeta asks in awe.

“It’s my emergency shelter,” I tell him, kicking a log from the back of the cave towards him. “Here, you don’t have to sit on the ground.” I tell him, watching him sitting almost directly in front of the entrance with his legs crossed.

“You have a shelter out here? I knew you were smart, but I didn’t know you were a genius!” 

My cheeks heat up for some reason. “Nah. It’s just common sense. Too many experiences out there without one. Whatever. Intelligence has nothing to do with this, really.” 

“So…do animals come in here?” he asks, turning his head around to study the place, not as nervously as before.

“No. It’s too small for a big animal’s den, and too big for a small critter’s burrow. It’s ‘me’ size because I’ve been digging it out little by little, and putting stuff in it for when I find myself in the same predicament we are in right now.” 

Peeta shifts to his knees and slowly stands up, hunching a smidge, ‘cause the cave ceiling is too low for him. He lumbers to the log I offered him earlier and sits on it heavily. 

“This place is great!” he states, looking at the crude shelving carved into the dirt where I keep the lamp, matches, a couple of cans of food I’ve agonized about leaving here because it feels like a waste, and things like spare arrowheads and fletchings; things that’d be useful in a pinch. 

I have a knife hidden inside the very log Peeta’s sitting on, but I’m not about to divulge that secret. It’s my last line of defense, and since I don’t have my bow on me, I feel safer knowing there’s at least one weapon in the cave I can count on. I need to bring a bow here at some point; I just haven’t found a good way to camouflage…yet.

“Thank you,” I say quietly. 

“Um, you can sit here,” says Peeta after a long moment passes in silence. “Plenty of room!” He motions to the log, scooting to free up some space.

It looks ridiculous, because there truly isn’t any room left on that log for me to sit. Peeta looks like a smushed rag-doll, sitting on a match box, and all the room he’s leaving next to him, is only big enough to accommodate a toothpick. 

“It’s okay,” I tell him, with a reluctant smile. “I’ll stand for now.”

“Are you sure?” he asks, biting his lip guiltily. 

“Yeah. Let me be a generous host.”

His face falls. “I’m sorry,” he rushes to say. “You wouldn’t have to be playing host in your lovely cave if it wasn’t for me. Sorry I was so stupid,” he says sheepishly, “I should’ve known you had it under control before I tried coming in after you.”

“Oh…it’s alright. It was…touching. All those things you said back there.” My cheeks are burning with embarrassment. 

“I didn’t say anything that wasn’t true,” he says, sounding almost sober. 

Another long minute goes by in silence. “Was that a wolf out there?” he asks suddenly. “I didn’t know what to do. I thought about kicking it, but I was afraid it would mangle up my leg, and then I’d get blood poisoned and since medicine is hard to come by, I probably would’ve lost my leg, and I’m not sure I’d be able to master a fake one…unless it was like a Capitol grade thing with robotic nerve connectors and the such… I read some man in District 3 figured out how to make prosthetics that you can control with a chip implanted in your brain!” 

I find myself laughing at his nonsense. And he seems to enjoy my laugh, because he keeps saying outrageous things, I can’t tell if he’s just making them up on the fly, or if he really read about them somewhere. 

I slide against the wall after a while, until I’m crouching close to the wet floor. Our clothes cling to our bodies, but most of the water has leaked off of us already, which is good, since I can’t light a fire inside the cave. 

“Are you hungry?” I ask him, interrupting his musings about how chewing gum is inherently evil, since we don’t have dentistry accessible in the districts. The boy really talks too much!

Peeta cranes his neck to glare at my game bag, which I recently placed by my feet. 

“What do you have there?” He asks, interested. 

“A rabbit. But we can’t eat that raw. We’d get sick with fever if we try. I wouldn’t recommend it,” I tell him. “But I have canned fruit we can share,” I offer. 

He makes an agreeing noise at the back of his throat. “I could eat.” 

“Fine. Um…close your eyes for a second. And don’t peek!” I chide. 

As with everything else I’ve commanded today, Peeta obeys without questioning, and soon I’m darting my hand into the end of the log, retrieving my knife. 

“Open your eyes,” I say. 

“Where did you get that from?!” he screeches, staring open-mouthed at my knife. 

“Secret compartment,” I deadpan.

“Well…I hope you’re not planning on stabbing me with that thing. That blade is bound to be dull now that you hacked into that can with it.”

“What does it matter if the blade’s dull?” I ask, exasperated.

“It’ll tear up my skin if you try stabbing me with it!” Peeta answers, arms moving in exaggerated arches,  “I much rather get a clean cut through, thank you very much!” 

What’s wrong with this boy?! He’s acting like discussing his own potential stabbing is an everyday thing.

“For your information, I’m pretty adept at sharpening things! And…Eww! Gross! Why would I wanna stab you?” I shudder. “I’m sorry, but I don’t do wounds, and I don’t do blood.” I pull a face, shivering.

“You kill things for a living!” He rolls his eyes in disbelief. “Why, the inside of your bag is covered in dried blood from those bunnies right now!”

“Animals! I hunt animals! I don’t do people’s blood and stuff…gross!”

“You’re kinda squeamish for such a lethal thing, aren’t ya?”

“Shut up and eat your pears!” I shove the open can into his hands, and he stares suspiciously at me for a minute before digging in.

Peeta moves over a few more inches, and the toothpick space widens to a Katniss’-rearside-size spot. This time, I take his offer gratefully and sit down next to him. He passes the can to me when he’s done. 

“You know…this is the first time we’ve done something normal together,” he says, pensive.

“It’s the first time we’ve done anything together, Peeta, period!” 

Peeta gasps, and there’s silence for a second. “You’re amazing!” He says, staring and blinking at me while I chew, as if I truly was some extraordinary sight to behold.

I scowl. “Why? Because I fed you canned food in a torrential storm in the middle of the woods?” I didn’t mean to sound so sarcastic. 

“Yeah…” he says dreamily, then scowls, then shakes his head. “Nah! You’re just…amazing! Even my mother says that you’re a survivor and the only thing District 12 has of worth…a better version of Haymitch Abernathy!”

Haymitch Abernathy is District 12’s one, and only living, Hunger Games Victor. He’s also a grumpy hermit, and a drunk, and the richest person in the district. Like me, he was born in the miners’ sector, nicknamed the Seam. People say Haymitch used to be smart as a whip, and a looker too, but now he’s just a paunchy, middle aged man, with anger issues. 

“Well, that’s not much of a compliment, is it?” I wrinkle my nose.

Peeta laughs, brushing his shoulder against mine…but that’s to be expected, he’s a giant after all, and the cave is practically a tall dresser. 

“No, I guess it’s not. But father always gushes about your squirrels. Says you never hit the pelt. You always shoot them right through the eye!” 

“Well, anyone can do that with enough practice.” I shrug.

Peeta snorts, and his knee presses against mine. “I wish I could do even half of the stuff you do. You’re an amazing hunter, and smart, and so pretty, and you can bring down deer, and the way you are with your sister…well, my big brothers have never been doting with me as you are with Primrose.” He sighs, looking at the flickering flame of the oil lamp. “You are something else!” 

“I— that’s not…” I’m frustrated and embarrassed, so I snap, “I wouldn’t have been able to do, or be, any of those things without your help, so…there!”

He scoots closer to me. His body is strangely warm, even under the layers of wet clothes. There’s bewilderment in his blue eyes, and for some reason, I can’t look away from the way his hair is all matted to his forehead. He looks boyish. Kinda cute. 

“What do you mean?” He asks in a small voice. 

I chuff. “Well, it was like today,” I start, leaning back, averting my eyes. He smells of spirits, but weirdly enough, I’m not repulsed by the scent. “You called out to me in the meadow, and I was about to rip you a new one, but then I realized you were trying to help me. Then, you save me from a wild dog, by doing something as simple as lifting me over your head, like I weighed nothing.” I feel small, all of eleven years old, and the fact that I’m wet to the bone and cold to the marrow doesn’t help my case. My voice comes out tiny, “You fed me when we were kids. I’ve never been able to even thank you for that!” I purse my lips to keep them from trembling, and blink some 28 times to keep from crying. 

Peeta sidles up against me. “Oh, Katniss,” he says low and reverently. I realize with a jolt, that it’s the first time he’s said my name. “You’re talking about the bread when we were kids?” His eyes glass over. “You can let that go now… after saving my ass tonight from the storm and the peacekeepers, I think you can count us even.” 

“How can you say that?” I demand, “You keep saving me, and I don’t know why?!”

“Really?” he asks, cocking his head sideways, scrunching his face, and shutting one eye like he can’t quite see me clearly with both eyes open; his tone isn’t malicious, just surprised. “You know why…at least, I think you should,” he says, shrugging and leaning closer. “I thought you’d notice how all of my friends were roasting me because I finally said something to you, and all I said was something lame about Row Your Boat.” He chuckles. “Fifteen years I’ve been trying to pluck up the courage to talk to you, and when I finally do, I call you ‘ Hey, girl with the braid’ like an idiot!” He practically leans into me.  

“Fifteen years?” I ask, bewildered. 

“Yeah…” he trails off, his ears turning cherry red. “I seem to have harbored a crush on you since the first day of school, when we were five.” He slumps back against the wall, and suddenly I wish he was still draped over me, warming me up. 

“Really?” I ask, because this story seems far-fetched. 

“Oh yes! It’s a whole thing! Me being a goner from the moment I heard you singing that very first day…remind me to tell you all the gory details some day.” 

“You betcha,” I say, amused. 

“I’m sorry I’m such a dork, but hey! At least imma buy me some chickens to sell eggs, and save, to buy my father’s bakery one day, and then I’m gonna ask you out on a date or somethin’.”

“Uh— what? Really?!” I chuckle. 

Peeta yawns. “Yeah, Imma take you somewhere nice for a picnic, like Victor’s Village or something, and I’m gonna bring good bread this time! None of that burnt, soggy crap I threw at you when we were kids, but real, freshly baked bread. With butter. And probably canned pears, ‘cause those are my favorites now!”

“Okay,” I tell him, not completely sure why I’m agreeing to this. After all, I decided a long time ago I was never getting married or having any children, at least, not as long as the Hunger Games loomed over me; I won’t be stringing Peeta along either. Gale accused me of doing just that once, which I don’t think I did? The accusation still stung. 

Right now, it feels nice to think I could go on a date with this crazy merchant boy; and who knows?! 

“Buttered bread sounds nice,” I say, sinking next to him. 

“This is nice!” Says Peeta, sleepily, wrapping an arm around my shoulders.

“Yeah…it is,” I agree, realizing just how steady and warm his arms are, even encased in wet clothing.

“Will you go out on a picnic with me, then?” He asks hopefully, yawning again. His eyes drooping with sleep. 

“I think I might,” I tell him. I haven’t felt this safe in anyone’s embrace since my father died when I was 11 and I stopped trusting my mother. “I think I will,”

I’m beginning to think that the alcohol fumes clinging to Peeta have gone to my head, and left me as simple minded as all the intoxicated people back home, maybe I have it wrong, and Oktoberfest does have its charm, because despite myself, it feels right to indulge in that fantasy tonight. After all, Peeta was the only person in the district back then, that cared enough about me and my family dying of hunger, to do anything about it. He gave me bread he purposely burned for me, all he gained was a bruised eye from his mother, and my inability to repay his kindness, for his generous gesture. 

“Good! Just a heads up, though, I’ll prolly propose to you at that picnic, ” he says. His eyes are already closed, and I roll mine in response. “What you think my odds are of you saying yes?” He snuggles up to me, his head falls onto my shoulder. 

“The odds might be in your favor,” I tell him softly; I’m not so sure I say that to humor him, though. I am really tired, and sleeping in his arms does sound like a luxury right now, so I’m gonna blame it on the ‘Oktoberfest effect’ in the morning. Plead sleep depravation insanity or something. “Night, Peeta,”

He mumbles a response, which turns into a slow snore. 

I close my eyes, smiling. 

I’ll indulge in the drunken ramblings of Peeta tonight. Tomorrow is a new day, and if the saying is right, the sun shines brightest after a storm…maybe it’s time I bask in the rays. 

[ipuckwithhockey]

He Doesn’t Hate You - Boone Jenner

A/N: I’ve been in a Columbus mood... Also, I know Seth is a little problematic but it just seemed to flow best with him as the best friend. This is pretty short and sweet. Let me know what y’all think! (I did not edit this so beware of typos)

warnings: nothing really? some swear words, drinking, nothing too crazy, this is pretty soft

——

You met Boone a few months ago when you moved to Columbus for your new job. You grew up down the street from Seth Jones, and so when you got the job offer in Columbus you couldn’t turn it down. You and Seth were close friends growing up, even when him and his family were moving around for his dad’s basketball career.  You had older brothers who played sports with Seth, but you were always on their coat tails trying your best to keep up.

By the time you got settled into your new apartment, Seth had returned to the city for training camp. Seth had insisted that as your surrogate big brother he had to show you around town, and so you found yourself hanging out with him whenever you weren’t working. You didn’t know anyone else in Ohio so if you wanted social interaction outside of work, Seth was basically it.

A couple weeks after Seth got back to Columbus, he started mentioning that you needed to meet the guys on the team. He kept saying that they were like his other family and that you would love them too. You didn’t doubt him, but you were busy and tired with work and big social gatherings just didn’t seem appealing to you.

Eventually you caved, just like you knew you would, and that’s how you found yourself in a casual bar meeting the members of the Columbus Blue Jackets.

You really liked most of the team. Seth was right, Josh was a big teddy bear who you really couldn’t see getting into scrums on the ice, and you were definitely going to be good friends.  Pierre seemed like a nice kid who was really finding his way in the NHL, and Cam definitely didn’t seem old enough to be a dad. Cam’s wife Natalie had come too, and she was so sweet. You quickly became a part of the CBJ group and everyone was so great and welcoming…

Except Boone. Boone Jenner.

It’s not that he was being rude, he just didn’t seem too interested in anything you had to say. Whenever you were around him he’d stop talking, or just leave. The eye contact? Non-Existent. He would never even look at you. It was like he just didn’t want to be friends with you and you had no idea why.

You brought it up to Seth one day and he just replied with “He’ll come around. He’s just not good around new people.”

You wanted to believe Seth but something about it just didn’t seem right. Boone was pretty cute, and he was always in a great mood with his friends, and he seemed like a really nice guy when he was with them. If he wasn’t so weird around you, you might actually be into him.

——

“Dude. Why are you being so weird?”

“Seth, what the hell are you talking about?” Boone looks over his shoulder to see Seth coming into the locker room to get ready for practice.

“Y/N thinks you hate her. She keeps asking me what she did to make you not want to be her friend.”

“What? I don’t hate her”

“Dude. I know. I also know you’re not good at the whole flirting thing but avoiding her every time she comes into the room isn’t helping your case.”

“Wh-what? I’m not trying to flirt with her.”

“HA. Yeah, ok..”

And that’s the end of the conversation as more guys pile into the room to get ready.

Boone’s a bit nervous now, and thinks that maybe Seth has figured him out. He didn’t hate Y/N. He actually really liked her. When she showed up to the bar that first night he was almost pissed that Seth hadn’t mentioned how beautiful she was. She was the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen. And then she starts talking about football and is giving everyone shit about being Browns fans, and reminiscing about growing up playing soccer down the street with Seth. She tried explaining her job, but it was way over Boone’s head. She was funny, and smart, and sure of herself, and he knew he was screwed.

Boone wasn’t known for being the best with the ladies. He did ok for himself, but he was more of the shy type, while Andy and Jonesy were more outgoing player types. So every time she was around he got nervous. It’s like he just couldn’t think of anything to say, and when he did he thought you would think he was an idiot, so he just avoided you.

——

“Seth, I know you guys just won a big game, but I’m tired and I don’t really want to spend the whole night in a bar pretending to be friends with Boone.” You’re complaining over the phone as Seth tries to convince you to come out with them. You hadn’t seen him in almost two weeks since you’ve both been busy with work. A night out honestly seemed fun, but the thought of Boone making the dynamic weird all night had you trying to get out of it.

“Y/N for god’s sake, he doesn’t hate you! He likes you! and i think you just make him nervous because he’s a fucking idiot.”

He likes you… He likes you?

“Seth. What are you talking about. He barely even speaks to me.”

“BECAUSE HE LIKES YOU.”

“That literally doesn’t make any sense.”

“Whatever. I’ll see you at the bar in an hour!” and he hangs up the phone.

Now you’re just left sitting there thinking about what Seth just said. Boone. Boone Jenner. Likes you? But against all better judgement you kind of get it. He does get a little blushy when you accidentally touch his arm or laugh at his jokes… Maybe Seth is right…

——

“Booner, Y/N is coming tonight, do us all a favor and just make a move already. We can’t take anymore of you being an awkward idiot in front of her.” Seth is teasing Boone as they make their way to the bar to get a round of drinks, but now that Boone knows you’re coming out, he’s nervous. Should he make a move? Will you reject him and then make the whole dynamic of the group even weirder? What if you don’t reject him…

He’s lost in thought while everyone has settled into a booth toward the back of the bar when you appear in front of them. You’re wearing tight black jeans, a leather jacket, and a satin tank top that is loosely hanging off your frame. You look good. And Boone definitely noticed.

“Hey guys, big win, eh?” You make sure to put the very Canadian sounding ‘eh’ on the end as you reach over to ruffle Andy’s hair.

“Yeah, you should have been there! It’s like your job is more important to you than coming to our games!”

“Andy, believe it or not, my job IS more important than coming to your all’s games! BUT what’s most important to me right now, is getting a drink.” You laugh and turn away from the boys heading to the bar, but this time noticing that Boone’s eyes are following you. You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t put a little more effort into your makeup and outfit after your conversation with Seth, but that still didn’t change the fact that Boone doesn’t hardly speak to you.

When you make it to the bar, you remember just how busy downtown Columbus can be on a Friday night. It’s packed, and getting a bartender to notice you is going to take some time. You’re almost ready to just give up when you see Boone push through the crowd and grab a bartender’s attention like its the easiest thing he’s ever done. You scoff, knowing that you were still just trying to get up to the bar, let alone trying to get the attention of someone who would take your order.

“Here.” You turn around to see Boone, holding a drink out to you.

“Oh. Thanks! You didn’t have to do that,” you say as you take the drink from him.

“I figured, you’d probably be waiting a while, thought I’d help you out,” he smiles at you and leaves you to walk back to the group. You notice just how long he actually held eye contact with you, and take in his perfect beard and beautiful eyes. Instinctively you raise the glass to your lips as you watch him walk back to your friends, and then you realize he had ordered your favorite drink. How did he even know?

But Boone knew your drink of choice because he was always watching you. He couldn’t take his eyes off of you when you were in the same room.

When you got back to the booth, the seat next to Boone was empty so you sat down and joined in the conversation. The night went on and as more drinks flowed you and Boone started to converse more. He seemed more relaxed and you were actually having a really good time, and every once in a while your legs would touch, sending heat through your bodies. 

You and Boone had really done a 180 in the last couple of hours.  

The alcohol was probably giving you more confidence than you would normally have, but as you were sitting there laughing at a story that Seth and Andy were trying to tell, you let your hand fall on Boone’s leg. You felt him tense for a second but then relaxed into your touch.

You turn to him and whisper in his ear to thank him for the drink, “you knew it was my favorite didn’t you?”

With your hand on is leg, and your breath hot against his ear, he can barely even focus on what you’re saying, but he manages to nod his head in response to your question.

You let out a little laugh as you lean into Boone’s side and turn back to listen in on the story being told. Seth was right. He was definitely into you.

[debbiechanclub]

First Impressions, Second Chances, Part 1 (BTOOTxLBBF crossover)

SURPRISE! The long-awaited Best Two Out of Three x Local Bad Best Friends crossover is here! @freshlysqueezedmox and I were not planning on posting this tonight, but I was working on it and decided that we had enough to post the first part, so here we are. That’s right--this is going to be a multi-part crossover fic! Can you tell I’m excited? Because I am 😁

This is dedicated to the anon who suggested months ago that Sam and Alex should meet. I hope this lives up to your hopes and expectations, and I hope everyone enjoys!

First Impressions, Second Chances

Part: 1/?

Pairing: Chuck Taylor x OFC x Trent Beretta x OFC...? Something like that? You know our shit is complicated, y’all.

Word count: 3.4k

Warnings: Angst; some language; alcohol use

Check out my masterlist here and Summer’s here!

Tag squad: @hotyeehawman @comeasyoudar @heelchampbucks @librathepheonix13 @gabbynorth98 @irish-newzealand-idian-dutch @exe-sadboi-exe @junglecassidy @hurricanranabaybay @siwonineedmoney @linziland13 @bec0m @betsy-bradock​

Philadelphia, 2015

To say Sam was nervous would be a gross understatement. Her stomach had been twisted into a perpetual knot for the last week, and it was so bad tonight that she actually felt a little sick. Maybe she should have stayed in. She had a match tomorrow, after all—and it was a big match. A huge match, actually, her first match back on the indies after leaving WWE; and she didn’t feel nearly as prepared for it as she would have liked. Her original opponent had broken her wrist and they’d had to book a replacement at the last minute. She should be at home watching match footage of her new opponent, not out on the town with Chuck.

But Sam knew she wasn’t actually this nervous because they’d changed her opponent. She was nervous because Chuck was taking her to meet his friends. His best friends, as he’d put it.

“What if they hate me,” she whispered to him as they walked down a sidewalk in West Philadelphia. He looked over at her and rolled his eyes. 

“They aren’t going to hate you, Sam,” he said with a shake of his head, a small smile pulling at his lips. “I actually think you three are quite similar.” 

That piqued her curiosity. “Oh really?” she questioned as seriously as she could, trying to hide the smile that was attempting to make its way onto her face. “How so?” 

“Well, you’re all gigantic pains in my ass, for one,” he answered. Sam’s eyes grew and she elbowed him in the ribs, making him wince. “Ow! Not even in town thirty minutes and you already want to fight. It’s nice to see some things never change.” 

“Nice to see you’re still an asshole,” she grumbled as she looked down at the pavement below their feet.

Chuck smiled down at her. “Yeah. But I’m your asshole,” he said as he threw his arm around her shoulders. Sam couldn’t help but grin in return. 

“Wouldn’t have it any other way, Dusty.” 

She leaned into him as they walked, and silence grew between them as her thoughts began to wander again. He wouldn’t tell her who they were meeting—just that they were his friends, fellow wrestlers, and she needed to meet them. She’d tried like hell to get their names from him all last night and again today when she’d finally made it to his place, but his resolve was unwavering. He said he didn’t want her drawing conclusions about them from what she could dig up online before she’d even met them. Which is exactly what she would have done if he’d told her their names. He knew her too well. 

“This is it,” Chuck announced as they came to a stop just outside the door of a bar; their bar, as he’d called it. He pulled it open and gestured for her to go first. She stopped just inside to turn around and look up at him.

“Are they here yet?” she asked as he moved to stand beside her.

“No... at least I don’t think they are.” He glanced around as he pulled out his phone. His fingers flew over the screen before he locked it again and looked down at her. “Where do you want to sit?” He tipped his head in the direction of the tables. She just shrugged her shoulders.

“I don’t know, where do y’all normally sit?”

His eyes scanned the room again. He led her over to a corner booth and they both sat just as his phone dinged. Sam tried to nosily peek at the screen when he checked it, but he caught her and turned it away so she couldn’t see. She sat back with a hmph.  

“They’re a couple blocks away,” he said as he laid the phone screen-down on the table.

Sam sighed and looked down at her hands. The knot in her stomach twisted tighter.

“Hey,” Chuck softly said. “You good?” 

She pulled her lips into a tight smile. “Peachy,” she sarcastically returned. 

He huffed a laugh and wrapped his arm around her shoulders again. “Thank you for coming.”

Sam couldn’t help herself. “That’s what she said.”

Chuck rolled his eyes. “I really mean it, Samantha!” He gave her a gentle squeeze. “I know you’ve been nervous about this weekend for two months, and this is probably the last place you want to be before your first match back. So thank you for being here.”

He drew small circles on the exposed skin of her shoulder as he spoke. Sam’s stomach gave a little flutter. “Nervous? Me? Please. I don’t have one single nervous bone in my body. And you’re wrong,” she said as she nudged him with her elbow. “I wouldn’t want to spend tonight with anyone else. I know I acted like I didn’t want to come out… but I’m glad I did.”

A smile slowly spread its way across Chuck’s face. “Yeah?” he softly asked. Sam just hummed in agreement. 

But to say she was nervous would be an understatement.

* * * * * * * * * *

Alex couldn’t have gotten to the parking garage a minute sooner. She always forgot how long the drive was from Roanoke to Philadelphia until she had to do it again. She got out of her Jeep and let out a satisfied groan as she stretched her legs and back. The sooner she could get a drink in her, the better. 

“Alex!”

She whirled around at the sound of her name. A smile tugged at her lips when she spotted Trent walking toward her. She met him halfway and pulled him into an excited hug. “Greggy!”

“Hey,” he said as he gave her a squeeze. “Long time, no see.”

“I know!” She playfully shoved his shoulder as they pulled apart. “You left me for Japan.”

He rolled his eyes with a smile. “How many times do I have to tell you that you should come wrestle over there, too? I know they’d love you.”

Alex felt her cheeks tinge pink and she looked away. “Yeah, yeah,” she returned. “But you know I have my heart set on NXT.”

Trent sighed. “Yeah… I know,” he grudgingly admitted. “And they’d be stupid not to sign you.”

Alex beamed up at him. “Aw. Thanks, Greggy. Actually, I’m wrestling someone tomorrow who used to—”

She was interrupted when they both got a text. Alex glanced down at her phone, already in her hand. It was a message from Chuck in their group chat.

Hurry up, losers, we’re here.

“Jeez,” Trent muttered to himself. Alex bit back a smirk as she watched him type a response. Soon after, her phone sounded with his message.

Alex just got here, we’re at the parking garage.

“Come on, let’s go before we get in trouble,” he said to her as he pushed his phone back into the front pocket of his jeans. Alex grinned, and they fell in step next to each other as they exited the parking garage into the evening air.

“So, do you have any idea who Chuck’s mystery guest is?” she curiously asked as they walked. She knew absolutely nothing about this person who Chuck wanted them to meet, and it had been driving her insane. She didn’t like when things were purposely kept from her—it made her nervous—and she hoped Trent could give her a clue as to the person’s identity.

But, unfortunately, he shook his head. “Nope.”

She let out a frustrated huff. “Why is he being so cloak-and-dagger about it?”

Trent shrugged. “I don’t know.”

“It’s gotta be a girl he’s dating.”

He shot her a look of surprise when she said that. “What?” 

“Think about it!” she proclaimed. “Why else would he go through all this trouble to introduce this person to us? Nothing else makes sense.”

That had to be it. Their lives were so intertwined with each other that it was the only logical answer: Dusty had a girlfriend, and he wanted to introduce her to his best friends. But, judging by the look on Trent’s face, he wasn’t so sure.

“I don’t know,” he repeated. "I would know if Chuck was seeing someone. He's my best friend."

Alex’s eyebrows arched. "Ouch."

A corner of his mouth quirked up. "One of my best friends," he amended.

"Better," she nodded. “But I’m telling you, it’s gotta be a girl.”

“Well, we’re about to find out,” he said as they arrived at the bar. He reached for the door and pulled it open, and Alex stepped inside, stopping just inside the entryway so she could look around. She spotted Chuck in a corner booth—and let out a gasp.

“What?” Trent asked as he came to stand next to her.

She grabbed his wrist. “It is a girl,” she whispered with an excited nod toward the booth. They could barely see her side profile, but it was definitely a female sitting with Chuck, with brown hair that fell just past her lightly tanned shoulders. Alex cocked her head, curious. Somehow, she thought she looked familiar. But it didn’t matter. She’d been right.

“I told you Dusty has a girlfriend,” she said with a triumphant grin at Trent. But he didn’t seem to even register what she’d said. He stared straight ahead at the booth, his dark eyes wide and unblinking. Alex squeezed his wrist to get his attention. “Greg.”

“What?” He looked at her as if he’d come out of a daze. She arched a brow.

“You alright?”

He nodded. But the look on his face said otherwise. “Yeah. Go ahead and sit down; I’ll get our drinks. You want your usual?”

He started backpedaling away before she could even answer. “Yeah, thanks,” she returned, and he disappeared toward the bar.

“Oookay,” Alex said to herself. But she ignored Trent’s suddenly strange behavior and made her way toward the booth. Chuck spotted her and waved, a giant grin on his face as he slid out from the booth.

“Dusty!” She threw her arms around his neck and hugged him tight. Outside of Adam, Chuck was her best friend on the entire planet. She’d met him and Trent at a PWG show last year, and the rest was history. She couldn’t imagine her world without them now.

“Hey.” He wrapped her up and momentarily lifted her feet from the floor. “How was the drive?”

“Long,” she breathed in response. “I swear it gets longer every time.” She pulled away from him and glanced toward his lady friend, eager to get a better look. And, suddenly, she knew why she looked so familiar.

“One, that’s what she said. And two, Alex, this is—”

“Samantha McKay,” Alex said, cutting Chuck off. “I knew you looked familiar.”

Sam smiled up at her from the booth. “Please, call me Sam,” she insisted in a lilting Southern accent. “And you’re Alex Hawthorne.”

Chuck glanced between them, obviously confused. “You two know each other?”

“Well, not personally,” Alex clarified. “I know her from watching WWE.”

Chuck’s brow furrowed. “Well how do you know Alex, then?” he asked Sam.

She grinned. “Well… we’re actually wrestling each other tomorrow.”

Chuck’s eyes grew wider than Alex had ever seen them. “No shit. You’re Sam’s first opponent back on the indies?”

She nodded, proud of herself. “Guilty as charged.”

Chuck’s smile nearly split his face in two. “Well, what the fuck? I knew I had a good feeling about this!”

Alex couldn’t help but share in his excitement. It was a pretty crazy coincidence that his new friend—girlfriend?—who he’d wanted them to so badly meet just so happened to also be her opponent tomorrow. 

But then her brow furrowed with a thought. “Well then you must know—”

“Greg!” Chuck proclaimed. “I was wondering where the hell you were.”

“I went ahead and got our drinks,” Trent returned as he appeared next to Alex. He handed her an amber-colored beer. She accepted it with a smile.

“Thanks, Greggy.”

He gave her a tight smile. And then he looked at Sam. Sam stared back, noticeably tenser than she’d been a few seconds ago. Alex glanced curiously between them.

“I was just about to say that you must know Chuck’s new friend,” she said to Trent.

“Shit, I didn’t even think about that,” Chuck realized. “Were you two in WWE at the same time?” 

Trent nodded. “Yeah, we were.”

Alex’s eyes flicked back to Sam. She nodded in agreement and took an awkward sip of her drink.

“Well, this is perfect, then!" Chuck proclaimed, completely oblivious to the shift in the atmosphere. He was too excited. "Sam and Alex are wrestling each other tomorrow, too! How crazy is that?”

Trent pressed his mouth into a thin line. “Pretty crazy,” he stiffly returned. But again, Chuck didn’t notice as he sat back down in the booth. Alex started to sit next to him—but Trent grabbed her hip and gently pushed her to sit next to Sam instead. She sent him a questioning look as they both slid into the booth, but he ignored it, keeping his expression blank. Stoic. 

Alex took a drink of her beer. There was weird energy between Trent and Sam; she could sense it. And she had a feeling she knew exactly what it was about.

* * * * * * * * * *

How long did it take to walk two blocks? The knot in Sam’s stomach grew more and more painful with each passing second and her thoughts were going a mile a minute. What if Chuck had brought her here to introduce her to a girl he liked? No, that couldn’t be it. She could read him like a book, and that wasn’t the vibe she was getting. But the fact that he refused to tell her anything… it definitely made her wonder.

She glanced at the bar. Chuck had gone to get their drinks—and he’d left his phone on the table. She stared at it, tempted. Was his password still the same? 

But before she could pick it up and try, her phone rung in her pocket. She shifted in her seat and reached behind her to pull it out. A picture of Orange Cassidy lit up the screen, his face flushed and drunk. Chuck had sent it to her back when they’d been in China and she’d immediately set it as her contact photo for Jim. She smiled as she answered the call.

“Hiya, Clementine,” she practically sang into the phone. Orange chuckled on the other end of the line. 

“Hey. Are you with Dustin?” 

Sam’s eyebrows furrowed as she glanced over to the bar where Chuck still stood waiting for their drinks. “Yeah… Why?” 

“Tell him I’m going to be a little late.”

Her face scrunched further in confusion. “Late to what?” she asked. It prompted a sigh on the other end of the line. 

“He didn’t tell you, did he?” 

Sam’s frustration grew as she looked back at the bar again. Chuck turned around, two drinks in hand. And then it clicked.

“You’re coming tonight!” she excitedly proclaimed.

Orange laughed. She already knew what he was thinking.

“Yeah, I know. That’s what she said,” she smiled. But then her eyes widened. “Hey, if you’re gonna be here tonight, then do you know who else—"

Before she could finish her sentence, Chuck set their drinks on the table and abruptly snatched her phone from her hand.

“Hey! That’s my fucking phone!” she proclaimed. But he just grinned and held it up to his ear.

“Jim? Hey.” He paused, listening as Orange spoke on the other end. “Yeah, I took her phone,” he said with a look at Sam. She glared back at him. “Okay, we’ll see you when you get here.”

He hung up and handed her back her phone. She snatched it from him. “Asshole,” she muttered.

“Sorry,” he apologized. “You know he would have told you.”

“Yeah,” she groused. “I know.” She grabbed her glass off the table and took a sip of the mixed drink. Chuck looked at her out of the corner of his eye and started to say something—but then his attention was drawn to the door. A giant smile lit up his entire face as he stood from the booth and waved. Sam froze. His friends were here, whoever they were. But before she could turn around to look, someone launched themselves at Chuck and pulled him into a hug. 

“Dusty!”

Sam looked up. It was a girl. Long dark brown hair fell down her back as Chuck squeezed her tightly and picked her up off the ground. Sam swallowed a lump in her throat as the two of them talked, getting lost in her thoughts again. But then the girl turned around, and Sam’s eyes went wide with recognition.

“Alex, this is—”

“Samantha McKay,” the girl said with the slightest Southern drawl. It was her. “I knew you looked familiar.”

“Please, call me Sam,” Sam said with a smile. “And you’re Alex Hawthorne.” 

Chuck’s face screwed up in confusion. “You two know each other?” he asked as he looked between them. 

“Well, not personally. I know her from watching WWE,” Alex clarified as she looked back at him.

“Well how do you know Alex, then?” he asked Sam.

She grinned, happy that Chuck was finally the one who didn’t have a clue. “Well… we’re actually wrestling each other tomorrow.” 

His eyes grew wide as saucers. “No shit.” He turned to look at Alex again. “You’re Sam’s first opponent back on the indies?”

She nodded proudly. “Guilty as charged,” she confirmed. The look on Chuck’s face was priceless. Shock mixed with genuine happiness. 

“Well, what the fuck? I knew I had a good feeling about this!” A huge smile broke out on his face, making Sam chuckle as she watched him. His excitement was practically radiating off of him as he looked between the two of them. But when Sam looked over at Alex, she found her brow furrowed in confusion. 

“Well then you must know—”

But before she could finish her sentence, someone walked up behind her, catching Chuck and Sam’s attention both. “Greg! I was wondering where the hell you were.” 

Sam’s stomach dropped and her face blanched. Greg? Trent? She blinked, but the person she saw standing next to Alex didn’t change. It was him. Her ex. She was absolutely beside herself.

She reached for her drink with a shaky hand as Trent spoke. “I went ahead and got our drinks.” She saw him hand Alex a beer out of the corner of her eye.

“Thanks, Greggy,” she smiled. Sam choked as she swallowed. Was Trent with Alex?

“I was just about to say that you must know Chuck’s new friend,” Alex said with a curious glance at him. Sam sat up straighter, putting the pieces together. Clearly, neither Alex nor Chuck knew that she and Trent used to sleep with each other. And Alex might be sleeping with him now, she thought. Great.

“Shit, I didn’t even think about that,” Chuck piped up, pulling Sam back out of her thoughts. “Were you two in WWE at the same time?” 

He looked between Sam and Trent. Trent answered first. “Yeah, we were.” His voice was devoid of any emotion as he spoke. It stung Sam, more than she would have expected it to. She tried to ignore it as she nodded and took a long sip of her drink. She could feel Alex watching her.

“Well, this is perfect, then!” Chuck giddily proclaimed. He looked at Trent. “Sam and Alex are wrestling each other tomorrow, too! How crazy is that?”

Sam dared to look at Trent. He stiffened. “Pretty crazy,” he said, just as monotonously as before.

But Chuck was too overcome with excitement to notice how unenthused Trent seemed to be in her presence. He sat down on the opposite side of the booth and Sam slouched, painfully aware of everyone’s movements. Alex started to sit next to Chuck—but Trent deliberately nudged her to sit next to her instead. It shouldn’t have bothered her, but it did. Alex scooched in next to her and Sam looked down, fidgeting with a string on the hem of her shirt. She felt someone nudge her leg underneath the table. She looked up and saw Chuck watching her with that beaming smile of his. She returned it as best she could.  

She reached for her drink again. The tension in the air was palpable. She knew Alex felt it too—she could tell by the suspicious look on her face that she did. But at least Chuck was oblivious.

She wondered how long that would last.