#yeah just ignore the anatomy and dear god the hand ignore the hand

[termitarylurker]

Sister

Figuring out my style whilst I recover from a chest infection that I got right after I recovered from flu -_-

[downrightembarassing]

Salt

I started this when it was 105 out and all I could focus on what how gross it felt. Now it’s winter. Enjoy.

Cad Bane x dear reader, 18++++, NSFW, swearing, alien anatomy, alcohol use, M/F, yeah I didn’t proofread, Cad’s an ass and I’ll stand by that, kinda gross but what else do you expect from me

Inspo from a wonderful piece of art by @deepbluespace4 (definitely don’t read this if it’s not your thing, no worries) and of course anatomy inspo from @sinisterexaggerator

———————————————————————————

It’s hot. Way too hot. Thank kind of heat that permeates everything, sucks your energy dry, and leaves you repulsed by your own flesh.

Sweat drips from your hairline, down your neck, to tickle down your back before absorbing into the tight tank top or continuing further to soak into the top of your cotton underwear. The thin shirt, barely there shorts, hair up in a messy bun, anything to take advantage of air movement to cool your overheated skin.

…if there was any air movement, a breeze would be too much to ask for on this god forsaken rock you found yourself on. The water bottle is empty again, you really should get up a refill it…for the fourth time, and it’s not yet halfway through this planet’s day cycle. With a curse you leverage yourself up from your position by the ship’s open cargo doors. You had settled there at sunrise, attempting to take advantage of the desert morning chill, but the doors had opened with a blast of hot air accompanying the rising suns. Grumbling to yourself you refill the bottle and grimace as warm water slides down your throat.

That damn bounty hunter said this was a quick stop, so where the hell is he?

Resettling yourself at the doors, your mind drifts. Cad Bane, you had heard of him before, but it was a surprise when he contacted you for help on a job. Sure, you are an accomplished thief but no where near as notorious as the blue Duros. Once he explained his plan it made sense to bring along someone with your skill set, and the amount of credits he had offered bordered on obscene.

So here you sit, sweating on this blast furnace of a planet, waiting for Bane to return. He had mentioned meeting up with an informant early this morning before swinging a long leg over his speeder and disappearing into the haze.

You spread your legs further apart and lean back, attempting to minimize skin on skin contact and the feel of your sweat soaked limbs sliding across each other. Nothing seems to help, not even that trip to the refresher earlier. As soon as you had stepped out to dry yourself perspiration broke out all over your body, mixing with the water to leave trails down your skin.

Everything is just hot, sticky, and gross. The taste of salt from your sweat has become a constant companion, lingering around every sip of water. Idly you wonder if Bane would react if you just stripped down to your thong and spread yourself out on the durasteel floor of his ship. A small giggle escapes you, that might get a reaction from the stoic hunter. He had been professional, bordering on cold, since he hired you and seemed to ignore your presence on his ship.

——-

Another hour ticks by before you see the telltale dust from a speeder in the distance. Finally, the hunter is coming back and you can escape to the cool depths of space. Rousing yourself from your seat, you glance back and are disgusted at the moist imprint of your thighs on the floor.

Cad Bane parks his speeder and steps through the open cargo doors, pausing as he adjusts to the dimmer light. He is all hard planes and angles, lean limbs wrapped in a massive trench coat, and those searing red eyes contained under a broad brimmed bolero. One large hand reaches into his jacket, pulls out a bottle, and tosses it to you.

Reflexively you catch it. It’s cold to the touch, spare chips of ice clinging to the base. Immediately you press the cool glass to your overheated cheek.

“What’s this?”

The blue Duros pulls an identical bottle out and cracks the lid. “It’s da local hooch, figured ya needed a cool down since we’re stuck on dis planet fer another day.”

“Fucking wonderful.” You mumble, closing your eyes and soaking in the chill of the bottle before it warms. Condensation drips down to the base, falls to your chest and runs down the swell of your cleavage. You can feel the slightly cooler trails of water as they wind tracks through the salt on your skin.

——-

Bane freezes, the bottle halfway to his hairline lips. He watches the trail of moisture slowly slide down her chest, making patterns on her sweat slicked flesh.

Her attire is a pleasant change from her normal garb. The tiny bottoms, barely there top, hair up exposing her sweet neck…so different from the loose pants and sweaters she normally wears around the ship.

He can see so much of the smooth, pliant skin slick with moisture.

He can sense the heat radiating off her body.

He can smell the salt.

Hiring the little mammal worked well with this job, and he was pleasantly surprised to find her mostly naked back at his ship, almost glowing with radiance. Guess leaving the AC off to save energy had other perks.

With a slight sneer he takes a swig of the hooch. It’s passable, not the worst he’s had.

A harsh cough echos around the room, followed by a groan. She’s finally tried her drink.

“What the hell is this stuff? It tastes like shit!”

Bane’s sneer shifts into a smirk as he replies. “Best dis skughole can offer I’m afraid.”

He watches her grimace and take another swig.

——-

As repulsive as the alcohol is, it’s helping. The day continues to heat up, but you’re able to focus on your growing buzz. The bounty hunter has even loosened up, and the two of you swapped stories for a bit before a comfortable silence grew.

With a groan you stretch your shoulders and eye the Duros. Sweat continues to soak through your clothing, as you spread yourself out on the floor. Legs wide, torso propped up by an elbow, and the now warm bottle casually held in your hand. Between the heat, the salt crusting your shirt, and the alcohol in your bloodstream you’re ready to strip. Professionalism be damned.

“How are you sitting there in a damn leather trench coat?!” You moan. “I’d have passed out by now.”

Bane idly swirls the dregs in his bottle. “Duros are cold blooded sugar, I don’ regulate heat like ya’ warm bloods.”

“I feel so damn gross!” You groan “Duros don’t sweat either?”

He takes a sip. “Dis’ temps just fine by me, and nah darlin’. None of that secretin’ stuff.”

“Lucky, I just want to peel everything off.” you whine back, pulling your shirt away from your overheated skin.

The bounty hunter arches a brow ridge at you. “Don’ stop on my account.”

You shoot the Bane a mildly surprised glance. Is this a courtesy or something more?

Whatever it is, it’s too hot to care at the moment. With a sigh you peel off your soaked shirt, no response from the Duros, and with the liquid courage in your system you lift your hips to pull down the cotton shorts.

It’s not any cooler in your breast band and skimpy thong, but at least there’s less fabric clinging to your body. Leaning back you take another sip of your drink.

It’s terrible…and warm now, but focusing on that helps you ignore the sweat trickling down your limbs.

Spread your legs a little wider, lean back a little further, rest your head on the durasteel. The Duros doesn’t care anyway.

——-

The Duros in question watches the human strip.

Watches her peel the clothing from her warm body.

Watches her spread herself across the floor of his ship.

He sees the sunlight dapple across the sheen of moisture. She’s soaked in it. The reflections bead along her skin, trailing into the curves of her body.

He can almost smell the warmth…can definitely smell the salt.

She arches an eyebrow at him.

“Like what you see Cowboy?”

He grins at her, baring all the fangs his heritage graced him with.

“Careful sugar, don’ wanna get dis ol’ hunter excited.”

She laughs and stretches. Again he watches the play of light across her slick skin.

“Yeah right.” She scoffs “It’s so disgusting out. I can’t even imagine how gross sex would be.”

To prove her point she rolls to the side, intending to show him the damp patch of floor under her body, but all Bane sees is the thick flesh of her ass barely contained in her tiny underwear…the sweat dripping down to soak the fabric.

A quiet rattle emits from his chest, deep and feral. Just a small vibration, a warning she misses.

——-

You roll back over and meet the scorching red gaze of the bounty hunter. His eyes roam across your exposed form and his fingers twitch.

Huh. Guess the notorious Cad Bane might be interested in something besides credits.

In an alcohol induced rush of confidence (and a move you probably will end up regretting later) you arch your back, teasing the hunter just a little…tiny…bit more.

You smirk at him. “It’s still too hot to do any of the things you’re thinking of buddy.”

“Don’ be so sure sugar…”

A short bark of laughter bursts from you. Sliding a hand through the pooling sweat on your abdomen, you offer it to the Duros. “See this? It’s gross. I don’t want to touch myself right now, let alone touch anything else.”

Those fathomless deep red eyes go slightly unfocused. He inhales deeply and his thin lips pull back, exposing a mouth full of predatory canines.

Your body tenses. Through your slightly buzzed haze you realized you might have pushed him just a little…too…..far.

——-

Watching her run those sweet little fingers along her body, sliding across the slick heat of her skin…well enough’s enough. The cocky little mammal is going to learn a lesson about teasing a hunter.

When her body tenses he moves. She barely has time to squeak before he is on her. From her relaxed slouch half leaned against the wall he contorts her body into a position to please himself.

Pressed against the wall, both forearms tacked above her head in a bruising left handed grip, him on his knees, legs spread above her hips while he forces her head to the side. The Duros leans in, breath brushing her ear. A tiny tremor travels down her body and his lips break into a cruel smirk. “Itssa’ bad idea ta tease li’l lady.”

Finally he bends his head to her neck and takes his first taste. One long lick, from her shoulder to just behind her ear. The tang of salt and heat fills his mouth as he almost delicately scrapes his teeth along the column of her throat.

A breathy whimper escapes as her lips part.

Cad Bane grins wider and continues.

——-

It all happened so fast. One moment you’re laying in a puddle of your own sweat and the next you’re pinned to a wall panting as Bane devours your body.

You should have stopped him, told him no. This is definitely a bad idea. But as soon as his tongue traced up your neck, tasting salt from your shoulder to your hairline, you moaned and tilted your head for easier access. His tongue was…cold? Cooler than your flushed skin and it felt divine.

His massive blue hands roam across your skin, dragging patterns through the sheen on your body. Every pass cools a little of the heat outside you and stokes more heat inside you. At some point he’s unwound your breastband and now he’s palming a breast when leaning in to take your nipple into his mouth. At the first touch of his cooler lips you moan and arch, forcing more flesh into his mouth.

Right. Cold blooded.

Sharp canines nip and tug at your skin, sending little shivers of pain through you as he sucks. The hand not pinning your wrists moves down to fondle your remaining nipple and the chill of his touch has both peaking.

He continues his exploring, tasting, absolutely consuming every inch of skin he can reach. It reminds you less of foreplay and more of a predator deciding if a meal is worth the effort. A shiver of fear creeps down your spine, adding to the arousal building in your core.

Massive blue hands slip slide across your torso, down your back, over your thighs as his mouth continues to abuse your chest. With you legs half bent you can feel moisture trickling down from behind your knees, over your calves, to drip on to the floor. It’s distracting…it’s disgusting.

You manage to find your voice and gasp out “Bane!”

He ignores you and continues his explorations. His hands move lower and lower, sending little flickers of arousal to your core. But your mind is focused on how gross you feel, slipping in your own pooling sweat.

You try again. “Dammit Bane, it’s too…fuck…too hot. Later, we can do this la……FUCK.”

During your tirade the bounty hunter sinks one long, knobby finger into your tight cunt and begins to slowly pump. Subconsciously you tilt your hips, allowing him better access to fuck you on his fingers.

“Not so bad now issit.”

He’s finally lifted his face from your chest. He might not sweat, but the secretions pouring off your body have done enough. His face, from nose plate to chin is wet. It’s dampened the edges of his body suit where he’d rubbed himself against your dripping flesh.

Gasping slightly, you open your mouth to respond. The sight is vile, the salt and moisture coating you both shines on his strange skin. Instead your breath hitches as the Duros inserts another long finger and begins working your body closer and closer to climax, ignoring the fluids covering his face and hands. Your retort dissolves into a high pitched whine.

It feels too good. His long digits, almost twice the size of your own, reach deeper into you than you previously thought possible. He’s curled them slightly and every pump presses against a spot that sends white hot sparks up your spine. He releases your wrists to trace the lines of sweat down your abdomen before pressing firmly just above your pelvis.

You cry out, a sharp surprised noise of pleasure. His hand thrusting into your cunt increases it’s pace, pounding into you as your eyes roll back and you surrender to the sensations he’s pulling from your body.

He watches you closely, watches as you tense, breathing sharpens, eyes wind shut in preparation for your climax. It’s so close, one more pound into that delicious bed of nerves…..

He stops completely, quickly removing those mild melting digits from your throbbing cunt.

Your eyes snap open, slurring out a needy sound of denial.

“Patience li’l lady, had ta get ‘cha ready fer a Duros.” He leans back and straightens his bent form.

He’s still straddling your hips as he begins to strip. Layers of leather, metal, and fabric are cast aside quickly, with a few droplets of your sweat flung around the room. With a final smug look he hooks his thumbs around the waistband of his trousers and, with a surprising amount of showmanship, frees his alien anatomy.

Your brain stutters. There’s two ridged cocks, stacked on top of one another, with copious amounts of slick leaking from the deeper blue tips. They are inches from your lips. On a whim you learn forward and swipe your tongue across a tip. It’s salty…like everything else.

Bane emits a rattle, it’s dangerously close to a purr. Your cunt throbs in anticipation.

“Turn ‘round.”

Slithering your legs through the puddle of sweat you comply. He doesn’t move, knees wide and gaze burning as he watches you present yourself. Peeking back you see one massive hand stroking his twin length, slicking himself while he watches you struggle on the slippery floor.

It’s almost gentle, the way he caresses the meat of your ass while lining himself up, tracing the moisture that beads across your flesh. Both heads probe your entrance, pressed together by his other massive hand.

Slowly, oh so slowly, you feel the deep ache as he splits you open. The stretch is incredible, mind numbing, as the pressure mounts the deeper he goes. Shivers begin to build, mouth hanging slack, while the hunter slides in.

Not soon enough, way too soon his hips press in to you. The spread in your core is incredible, every nerve ending alight with stimulation. He pulls back slightly and slams back in.

White flashes at the edge of your vision. A hand slips in the puddle, and you roughly fall to your forearms. The hunter continues.

———

The sounds echoing through the ship are obscene, wet flesh against wet flesh as the Duros pounds his lean hips against your ass. His hands crawl across your body, gripping tight enough to bruise to keep from slipping in your sweat. One large hand slides up your back, tangles in your hair, and pulls.

The effect is electric, pleasure hums down your curved spine as you’re pressed closer to his lean frame and his cocks press new nerve endings. Moisture pools between you as his chest slides back and forth along your back. You can feel every scrape on your skin from his fangs as the salt is pressed in.

The adjustment in position drives him deeper into your wet heat and you cry out, gasping as each hard thrust pushes you closer to euphoria. His grip on your hip tightens, grabbing muscle and fat without any care for the marks he’s leaving. Even with his brutal grip his hands struggle for purchase on your soaked and dripping skin.

Sweat runs down your forehead, into your eyes, and you shut them tight against the sting.

Your back arches further.

He winds you up tighter.

He rasps into the skin of your shoulder “Gonna fill ya up sugar” before clamping his teeth into the soft skin where neck meets shoulder. You feel the pain of his canines piercing your skin, the sharp bite of the salt seeping into the wounds.

With his words the rhythm changes, you feel him harden. The stretch of two sends you over the edge, cunt clenching as your climax rips through you mercilessly. The peak is vicious and dirty, magnified by the denial earlier, and pleasure floods your body. Screaming out your euphoria, nails scraping against the floor, your mind blanks as the space between your bodies floods with heat.

The Duros’ lean hips stutter, rhythm breaking completely as your walls pulse around his lengths. Teeth still buried in your shoulder, he groans and hilts, filling you up with his cooler release. Unconsciously you shiver as it leaks out around the base.

——-

You lie there in a tangle of limbs, some of them yours, some of them his. It doesn’t matter what leg belongs to who, your sweat coats everything. Even the smallest movement slicks more moisture between your entwined bodies.

“Fucking hell….dammit. I told you this was a bad idea.” You moan. The aftershocks of your climax fade and revulsion replaces its glow. Everything…just EVERYTHING is hot, slick, and sticky. It’s the most gross you’ve ever felt, his release dripping down your thighs to mix with your own twining through your sweat. There’s no escaping it, heat and moisture and salt feel like they’ve permeated down to your very bones.

“Dat’s right, thanks for da reminder doll.” he rasps, as the Duros gropes for one of his wrist gauntlets. He’s still buried to the hilt in your spread, oversensitive sex and you grunt slightly at the movement. One dexterous finger, still wet from your body, presses a control key at the base of the gauntlet leaving a halo of moisture on the device.

Immediately a solenoid clicks somewhere deep in the ship, and a blessedly cool (if somewhat stale) draft runs across your overheated skin. Goosebumps prickle across your entire naked body.

Bane adjusts his arms, preparing to pull his rapidly softening members out of you.

Oh hell no. You grab his forearm, fingers gripping tight in disbelief.

“Your ship has AC?!” You’re voice cracks in surprise and rapidly building anger. “You have AC and you didn’t….all fucking day I was here…..what the FUCK Bane?!”

He spares a glance down at you, noticing the rapid cooling of your flushed skin. A smug smile crawls across his face.

“It was a damn good way ta get’cha naked,” he shrugs, “anyway runnin’ it’a waste a fuel.”

[peeterparkr]

red; tom's version|one.

chapter one: sad, beautiful tragic. “Long handwritten note deep in your pocket”

pairing: Tom Holland x Reader (tom's not famous here) story summary: you’re reminiscing through your relationship months after the heartbreak and breakup. Wondering if it went wrong from the very start when Tom arrived at New York, and him being a cautionary tale or if the problems came along the way. Perhaps the key to find back your way to him is going back through the nice things before the heartbreak came. Or is it too painful to go all over again?

chapter summary: you haven't seen him since he ditched you, after months of wearing plaid you go out and realize he's back in new york warnings: angsty, I mean it's a breakup, swearing. word count: 7.3k playlist (updated after each chapter, including Red songs+ other for the chapter): Spotify | Apple Music

fic masterlist next chapter

a/n: Hi, I couldn't wait to share it so I said, screw it, I'm posting this. You don't know how excited I am to write this and share it with you. As you know, this is inspired by Red by Taylor Swift and will hurt. So I expect us all to be crumpled up pieces of paper wearing scarves by the end of this. (perennial is still coming, I'm just waiting on a few people who're reading it). SPECIAL THANKS TO @erodasghosts for reading it and hyping me up and helping me figure this all out. I hope you guys all like it as much as I did. The story is set in New York. Please give feedback!

One month after the breakup.

Strong whiskey, on the rocks. That was his drink of choice that night. The night before had been a beer. You knew you could imagine the taste of his lips by only looking at him. You wondered if he’d gone there for a second night for the same reason you had.

When you had seen him across the place the night before, you had tried to decide how to feel. We always think we will react one way or another when we see our official heartbreak walking through. Victorious as he is perfectly dressed, with his hair flowing.

He hadn’t brought her. Which you didn’t know how to feel about.

The day before you had not been alone, Jules, Matty, and Lula were there.

“Shit, the axolotl at 10 o'clock, you’ve got to be shitting me,” Lourdes, Lula, had whispered before sipping her drink, a Long Island Tea. “We are celebrating she’s doing better, can’t fucking believe this,” she hissed at Jules who only lifted her chin slightly to see who she was referring to. “What the fuck is he doing here? Ay, es que, con qué huevos se atreve a venir aquí? Que no mame.” [with what balls did he dare to come here? He shouldn’t fuck with us. ]

You loved hanging out with Lula and listening to her very refined Spanish cursing.

“It’s not him,” Julia said.

You tried looking back to see who they were referring to. “Who is—?”

“Y/N, wait I just noticed the haircut!” Matt pointed out, reaching over, getting your attention back to them and not at whatever they were referring to. “It looks great. It’s like a new you!”

This new you. The one that had been screwed over twice. Men really have the nerve when it comes to breaking hearts. They recklessly go in and let you believe love comes in all shades of colors, passionate red like the roses they send, and tender pinks like your sweet innocence that they end up stealing. But they never tell you it’ll be you all alone in a dark room with shades of grey under a flickering light that barely warms you.

The new you, which was still a bit lost. Your old self was a stranger to you now. You had no idea who this new you was, she was quiet now. Didn’t have a heart because someone had stolen it and broken it and left it behind a dumpster. Still trying to find it. The new you wasn't.. you.

Your friends were glad, however, they finally got you to go out again. After weeks of wearing plaid and watching Fleabag, and even considering watching Greys Anatomy, a low point, you had finally decided to come back to see if there was any sunshine left for you.

It’s important to point out that you had been broken-hearted and almost crazy when the breakup had happened. Very… delusional. You were not proud of the way you’d reacted. Although you wouldn’t have reacted any other way.

The city had been quiet, the red lights seemed to last longer, and the crowds would often swallow you. The city you once loved was now an open book of a relationship that seemed real, should’ve known it was all fiction.

In your dreams they’d be bright, colorful. The village is aglow. Cold days with warm hearts. Like his.

You’d been cold ever since.

“Ah, yeah, the haircut. Got it today. Lula’s idea” The haircut had come as the solution to a problem that would never be solved. As if cutting your hair meant there was something you had the power on. You didn’t.

How stupid was it? You couldn’t control your life.

“It suits her well, doesn’t it?” Lula admitted proudly.

You still had his picture engraved in your heart. You still dreamed he would come back and say it was all a nightmare.

“It’s nice, I’m glad to have you back,” Jules commented. Julia had probably been the most surprised with the news of the breakup, she had almost gone and killed Tom when he had….unimportant. She hadn’t, though, and she had yet to tell you the reason why. Julia had been mysterious since.

“I’m glad to be back,” you confirmed. You’d ordered a beer, and maybe you shouldn’t have. Stella Artois, his one favorite. You pocketed the beer cap. “Though I was not gone.”

Matt watched you, him and Julia had recently started dating. Best friends since kids who just recently confessed their feelings for each other, took them long enough. “How back are you, though?”

“Meaning?” You asked, taking a sip.

Matt shrugged, “I could introduce you to some friends from work, there’s this hot guy—“

“No,” you interrupted him, leaving the bottle down as you had almost choked. “No, no. Not in the dating area yet. Won’t be in a long time. Still healing.”

Lula still had her eyes glued elsewhere. “Healing from a bullet hole, y/n, whatever you’re doing isn’t working, and band aids won’t fix it—Jules it is, I swear to god it’s him.”

“It’s not him,” Julia rolled her eyes.

“Ay, que sí!” [he is]

“Who?” You asked.

Julia took your hands, “you know Lula,” she rolled her eyes. “I love that you ordered a beer.”

“Yeah,” you gulped. “Beer is universal language for men as in: ‘don’t get close to me.’” A lesson someone dear had taught you once.

Matt tilted his head in agreement, “Yeah.”

“Really?” Lula frowned, “should’ve ordered one. Next time I’ll ask for my drink but instead of a glass I’ll ask them to put it in a beer bottle.”

“Wouldn't it be easier to order a beer?” Matt suggested.

“But then I’d break our tradition.”

Matt watched her, “you really are something.”

You chuckled.

“Why is beer seen as not—feminine?” Matt questioned.

Julia shrugged. “It’s beyond me, really. It’s a drink.”

“Like does my drink make me less of a man?” Matt watched his glass, another Long Island Tea. A stupid inside joke you all had.

“No,” you admitted. “But you know how society is. Since it’s sweet, it’s got to be—“

“Oh, no, no, I love you, y/n, but tonight I don’t want you lecturing us on it, no, tonight we are having fun, ok?” Lula reminded you. “We will not talk about femininity or lack of a beer—or whatever your agenda is up to these days, which, hey! Why does y/n get to break the rule?” Lula questioned. “No Long Island Tea?

Julia glared at her, “Because she can do whatever she wants tonight,” she hissed and then turned to you. “But how are you feeling? It’s your first time going out in months, is it as fun?” Julia was the one to try to cheer you up the most.

No, it wasn’t fun.

“I—feel good!” You lied. Although you were not. But you guessed that’s the response they wanted after seeing you laying down on the ground and crying yourself to sleep. Staring at windows and walking down in the rain. They wanted you to feel better.

Your body was covered in scars.Though, they were from adventures.

“Bullshit,” Lula intruded. “You seem sad. Maybe I’ll get some shots,” she announced before going to get some.

“Well,” you chuckled. “My first time going out and you bring me back to the place where it all started?” You answered cynically but then shrugged. “I’m—I…no. I just—It’s weird. I still see him everywhere, and as I’m here it’s like watching a movie of our greatest moments,” you admitted. “Like hey, look over there, it’s Tom and Y/N’s greatest moments,” you stated, Lula got back. “Let’s start memory lane…”and you sighed and continued with the best presenter voice you had. “Here you’ll wonder how the hell did it go so wrong since they were so perfect, what the hell went wrong, when did it turn into some sad stupid love affair. You’ll be asking yourself hey, they seemed in love, over there, they danced! Over there… they sang a song together! See over there? There was a fucking jukebox in which they have memories! Oh they have memories there too! And you’ll ask yourself, he made it seem real, what the hell happened?” You sighed exhaustedly. “What happened? What the fuck happened? How was I so stupid?” You ran your hands through your face.

Your friends only watched you, with pity, sadness. Even Lula had turned her gaze guilty.

You cleared your throat, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

“No,” Lula sighed, “it’s our fault for bringing you here. We’re fucking idiots. Besides he is—Julia I swear to god, he is there.” Lula raised her hand and Julia quickly pulled it down.

Julia bit her lip, “I—hadn’t realized how much Tom there is here.”

“Yeah.”

“He called me—“Matt had started.

“No, no, we can’t talk about him, baby,” Julia reminded him. Matt widened his eyes and nodded.

You blinked, “no, it’s—He called you? Tom?” Why had Tom called Matty? What for?

“Yeah, had a missed call,” Matt explained, ignoring his girlfriend. “I—it was this morning.”

You felt your chest twist. “Yeah, I get a lot of those too.”

Perhaps he wanted to talk to you and thought Matty was dumb enough to give you the phone.

Julia glared at Matt. “We promised not to—“

“No, hey,” you stopped her. “I—sorry, I brought him up.”

“But we shouldn’t talk about him,” Julia insisted. “Tonight is all about having fun,” she stated as she handed everyone their shots.

“No, it’s alright,” you said. “I’m fine talking about it.”

Lula turned her gaze to you. “Shouldn’t you hate him?”

Were you supposed to hate someone who gave you something so beautiful? Just because it’s over doesn’t mean you have to look back and hate it.

“No,” you answered simply.

Matt watched you. “Wait, really?”

You took a deep breath. “Yeah, I’m—I decided I’m thankful for everything. He really… I… I mean I knew from the start he was trouble. But he got me to get rid of Will. So I’m thankful for Tom. He showed me some beautiful things about him, about myself and… I’m thankful. Even the part when he broke my heart.”

It was a lie. Partly. You had been so full of doubts that you only tried wondering why it had gone so wrong. Or course, the lie was there. His lies. But how could any of it be a lie?

Julia smiled gently, “You’re really a grown up.”

“Or very stupid.” Lula commented.

“Thanks, Lula, I appreciate it,” you rolled your eyes. “I… well, I’ve gotta admit I was pretty stupid.”

Lula shrugged, “Hey, I don’t blame you, boy came in with an accent, he had a cute smile, he was hot, I must admit, and he wasn’t one of those Brooklyn fuckboys that take you to the rooftop and offer you a whiteclaw to watch the sunrise together,” Lula gave in.

“Oh, and they take candid pictures, and they say that their phone camera isn’t as good as their polaroid,” Julia laughed, “But hey, you’re lucky they took you to the rooftop, they never take anyone there, they took you there just because you’re…”

“Different,” Julia, Lula and you chanted.

Matt laughed, “You guys are the worst.”

“Anyway,” Lula said. “We should drink these,” she pointed at the shot glasses as she raised her own. “I came here to get drunk. So, to Y/N being thankful Tom was a piece of shit even when the boy had a dreamy accent?”

You closed your eyes, and let out a defeated dry chuckle. “Yes, to that.”

“To the piece of shit, then!” Lula grinned as the shots clinked and were downed. You instantly regretted drinking it.

Lula scowled as she had her eyes glued back at the bar, “It’s him, Julia, it’s him! What is he doing here? Pendejo, I swear to god I’ll go kill him.” She was furious, and you tried once again following her gaze.

The bar was crowded, red lights crossed around the place, with girls walking with tall heels, trying to smile and nod at guys who were talking to them but clearly were not of interest to them. Friends laughing, people flirting. You didn’t know who your friends were watching.

But the bar seemed to be enough of a reminder of him. How he had made you feel like crowds were never there, and how whenever you had been with him everything disappeared just to be with him.

“Who are we killing?” You questioned.

“Is new y/n a murderer?” Asked Matt. Matt and Julia were your oldest friends. The three of you grew up in Staten Island, and now moved to the crowded places.

Lula coughed. “Hope she is.” Lula, on the other hand, you’ve met in college, she was a very defined addition to the friend group. With more personality. A strong one. Lula, Julia and you shared a small apartment.

Julia cleared her throat.

“The fucking scarf,” Lula scowled.

“What scarf?” Matt asked. And you had the same question.

Julia whispered to her boyfriend’s ear who had turned cold. He lifted his head.

“But it’s not.”

“It is him,” Matt confirmed to Lula. “Jules, it is.”

And now your three friends were acting strange. Usually they did but this was strang-er. They all shared looks, Julia struggled with her hands.

They were watching you with pity but you’d gotten used to that. After the breakup they had been extra careful around you, kinder, you guessed.

Fools they were to believe that by not mentioning him you wouldn’t think of him. He was a memory that would haunt you for the rest of the days.

“So, y/n,” Julia was clearly hiding whatever Lula was seeing.

“Wasn’t he in London? What in this fucking world is he doing here?” Lula continued.

“Shut up!” Julia ordered.

“London?” You asked and you lifted your head, and any noise that was bustling before had stopped.

Tom.

Tom was there.

Thomas.

Tom who had broken your heart. In every possible way that he could’ve. Like he had planned it. Like he was aware.

He was there, on a stool with a beer in his hand and wearing a red scarf. The red scarf. As if he was mocking you.

Tom.

Did he pride on hurting you?

He had always said you were invincible. That you were unrivaled in matters of the heart. Was he proud he had beaten the unbeaten?

You’d always thought he would.

When we love deeply, getting hurt comes as a given. But when we love deeply, we are never expecting it to come. And when it does come the skies cannot turn grayer. Funny thing, you were a fan of the rain but when the rain doesn’t cease, the hope doesn’t perdure.

But he was back in your life. Or at least he had been in the same room as you after months.

What was he doing back in New York with your scarf?

You turned back to your own table, breathing in quickly, bringing your hand to your chest in an attempt to calm yourself down.

You saw your friends speaking but you couldn’t make a word of what they’re saying. Your heart was rushing. Thomas was there. Tom. Your Tom. And there was a part of you that had completely forgotten over the heartbreak and wanted to run to him.

Kiss him, try to fix it. Try to bring back the beautiful thing you both had. Because it was. And it hurt looking back.

You were having trouble breathing now, the heartbreak had come.

That’s the worst thing about heartbreak. You never saw it coming, though you should’ve. Though it was beautiful you’d known from the start you’d end up hurt. But when a lie is crafted so beautifully, how could you?

“It’s him.” The words had come in whispers.

You barely remembered what had happened next. You had only stood up, decisive to leave, you’d seen him try to walk his way to you. You’d heard him call your name, but you hadn’t turned back, you had seen Matty stop him from running to you.

It was blurry. You didn’t know how you got home. Desperately trying to understand why he was there and how the night had turned too badly.

Lula and Matt had come back later to find Julia trying to comfort you, hugging a pillow that you were sure he had slept on. Breathless.

But it was in the past now, you were there again. Same bar, both in stools far away.

You were almost sure he’d gone to that bar in hopes of finding you again.

Just like you’d gone again.

His eyes the night before were guilty. You only took a deep breath, you remembered trying to avoid his glance at any chance as you had walked out.

Why were you there again?

That feeling in your chest growing, like there was something heavy expanding. Yet your stomach falling smaller. The pain was but a shield, as if it was creating a special protection around your heart, and though it hurt it was enough for it to make your heart strong to leave the place.

You didn’t want to see Tom. You hadn’t talked to him since. Even when he’d tried to call. Even when you’d tried calling.

Not when you had replayed the breakup over and over and over again since he was gone.

Everyone deals with breakups in different ways. Yours, specifically, was avoiding it. Everything and everyone. Especially Tom.

It was hard when he was everywhere. In that tattoo he’d convinced you to get, in that ring he’d left, in that cereal box that you still hadn’t finished. Whenever you listened to a song he’d recommended. Whenever you’d open Netflix and that series you had started watching together was still recommended to you even when you’d deleted it.

Everywhere.

You couldn’t use your favorite colors because you could hear it, in the back of your head “I love how it looks on you.” “You should wear more blue, it suits you.”

Even your stupid laugh remind you of him. “Your laugh is the most wonderful thing I’ve heard, even if it’s so ugly.”

You missed the person you were when he was with you. How everything was happy. Who was that y/n? Who didn’t mind if she was slightly late to a place because he’d come with you? Who didn’t feel alone at parties when she knew nobody because you knew him?

A y/n that existed only for a short period of time when he’d been around and that he’d shattered like glass when he had the chance.

You missed that y/n.

The y/n that would sometimes lose her breath and catch it back when he walked into the room. A y/n that sang along to her favorite songs all day. The one that would give her heart in a rush to him. The one that watched movies no matter if they were good or not.

Life had colors back then.

Now you were full of regrets and of doubts. Wondering what you had done wrong? Where did it lead you?

You looked up at him then. He was staring down at his glass.

There was a slight trace of him still there, the Tom you once loved. The one with the silly smile and the gentle chuckle, the one with the jokes about everything.

You wondered how much of that y/n he saw too.

You were the same two people, in essence. But how different you were now.

The Tom you knew before finding out it was a lie.

There was still a hint. You knew. But there was so much of him in you that it was hard to see if you still were there. Or the Tom you thought you knew. Not the one with the lie. Or maybe this was the truest Tom he could ever be.

He had to move on, rather quickly, you recalled. If he ever did.

There was a stupid reminder of you in his hand, that red scarf from the very first day.

You still remembered how it all started, a stupid red scarf. He kept it, then, and he wore it.

You had ordered a beer, too. You pocketed the cap again.

But there was an image in your mind, maybe he had gone back and probably had his arm around her and he laughed at a joke she made. Maybe she was funnier than you. Definitely prettier, with her hair falling down all the way to her waist, her clothing accentuating everything you didn’t have.

You recalled having to leave the room when you found out. You had been a mess.

Leaning against a wall as you caught your breath before the tears came down, as if he had pierced right through it. A pain chest that had expanded all the way on your body, not sure how you were able to keep walking back to your place. Falling down to your knees when you did.

Pain. Words failed to describe such a deep sentiment.

But it was gone now. Not entirely but at least you could hold your breath fine when he was just across the room.

What went wrong?

You could ask him. He was right there.

Maybe even tell him how you had lost sight. He hadn’t walked up to you. He was nervous, but he seemed calm enough to see you were there. You were still unsure why you had gone there.

Maybe all the good things were enough to bring you there, maybe the fact that you still didn’t believe it was a lie brought you there. Maybe the fact that one of those pictures from that photobooth was still in a locket. So stupid.

He fiddled with the glass.

You waited and waited but he didn’t approach you. He took out a paper out of his pocket as he stared at it.

You wouldn’t approach him. No matter how happy he had made you once, you wouldn’t walk to him. No matter how beautiful it was. No matter if you were lonely and that when you dared to sleep he’d be haunting your dreams.

It was a tragedy now. What you both were, and not even worth enough to try and save it. You knew you were haunting him too. Otherwise he wouldn’t be here.

He was shakin, as he stared at you, nervous. He downed his drink, you guessed it was for some liquid courage and stood up, with the note in one hand and your red scarf in the other.

Your own courage for coming here was gone, as you saw his intentions, the urge to run you had the night before was becoming you. But he couldn’t walk. He had to sit down again, rubbing his face.

The courage that had come when choosing what Lula called the ‘revenge black dress’ was nowhere in sight. You were cold and regretting putting it on.

“I can’t do this,” you said to yourself and quickly let out some dollars to pay for your drink before picking up your stuff to leave.

You saw he panicked when he saw you leaving, he quickly called the bartender to pay for his drink.

You closed your coat as you were shaking yourself, punishing yourself for going there. Why had you gone there? The man had broken your heart? Were you really there to see him?

Was your heart foolish enough to ignore the warnings in your mind once again?

You walked your way to get to the subway station, how irrelevant you were through the crowds. You hadn’t felt this way for a while, caring for the crowds. But you had to get through them. There was a part of you that wished Tom was following you after. But the crowds didn’t let you see if he was.

Besides, you shouldn’t want that.

You finally managed to get to the station, you clung to your purse as you stared at the tracks, waiting for the next train to come. Peaceful it seemed, the station. As peaceful as New York could be. You guessed if you cried nobody would care.

“y/n!” You heard your name in the distance and you couldn’t handle it.

You took a deep breath and shook your head, angrily. Why had you gone? You could’ve easily kept ignoring his calls. You could’ve stayed in your apartment, crying as you watched SNL videos on youtube, or rewatching a cartoon for the hundredth time, letting your own sadness and self pity swallow you.

But you had gone to him. This was your fault. You should’ve taken a cab, instead, he would know you’d get at this station and he for sure would know what train you’d take.

“y/n, y/n!” He kept calling as he finally arrived next to you. “Sorry I would’ve gotten here faster but the damn MetroCard-”

“I’m not doing this, Tom,” you stated before he could go on rambling like the idiot he was. You couldn’t do it. “Not here, not anywhere. I don’t know what you’re doing here.”

“I…” His face was kind, and he seemed to be nervous. You could tell he hadn’t been sleeping, probably the jet lag.

You took a moment to look at him, he didn’t look as victorious as you had thought he was. His hair was messy, and his cheeks flushed, the buttons on his shirt were not buttoned right.

Seeing him again, with that signature look he had made you want to go down to your knees.

“Aren’t you supposed to be back in London?” You snapped. “With that pretty girl-”

“No, no, I’m-I’m sorry, I’m really sorry,” Tom stuttered. “I was an idiot.”

You stared into his eyes, you were not ready for this. You were not ready to look into his stupid eyes. You looked away. “That’s all you have to say?” You tried walking away from him..

He shook his head. “No, no, no, no, I… No, I actually… I had this… I wrote down my apology,” Tom confessed. He showed you a sad, handwritten paper, now slightly teared up with the ink running. “I… I had….”

You looked down at it, his messy handwriting, crinkled with words scratched down. “You wrote it down?”

You didn’t know why you felt your heart warm. This kind of stuff was why you couldn’t understand what had happened. Someone like him, who writes his apologies down. Someone who stutters when he’s speaking.

“Yeah, I… but I spilled my drink on it after seeing you fled,” He explained, swallowing hard. “I… I… I had written it down so I wouldn’t forget it but now I realize how stupid that is… I’m… I’m really sorry, y/n.” .

You could hear the train coming. You were seeing him again. It hit you right there. And this was not the reaction you thought. You had said you would be delusional, crying and fighting and questioning him why the fuck he had done that.

Yet you weren’t. You were only watching him, eyes full of tears wanting to slide down but unable to. But there was that pain still in your chest.

How could he ever dare to hurt you that way? “I don’t want to talk to you,” you said. And meant it. “Please leave me alone.” You said before walking into the train.

“Y/N, please, no, please, please, listen to me,” He followed you in, the scarf still in his hand.

You tried sitting as far away as you could. Arms and legs crossed as you tried breathing in.

He sat beside you and you changed seats. He sighed but followed you again. “Please, I need to talk to you. I never meant to hurt you.”

“Well you did,” you snapped. “You did, and now you come here a month later with a handwritten note apology thinking I will be fine with it?”

He pinched the bridge of his nose. “I had to solve-Please, would you listen?” Tom asked, knowing damn well he had to ask, and not just straight up blurt it out.

“Why would I, Tom?” You turned to him, with a tear traveling down your cheek. You were incredulous. “You’re kidding me, right? I… You… You think that just because you show up with that stupid face of yours and my scarf I’ll want to listen to you? You’re an idiot.”

He sighed and reached to give you the scarf. You ignored it.You were furious now.

The other people on the train were certainly getting a show. A guy with a backpack was trying to pretend he wasn’t listening but his reactions were giving it away. Another woman pretended to keep reading her book but she hadn’t turned any pages.

Tom took the scarf back staring at it. “I need to explain everything to you.”

“What if I don’t want an explanation?” You snapped. Though you did. You had been waiting for one, you wanted one. You would beg for it. But your pride was taking the wheel of the conversation. “Don’t you think it’s fucking late for it?”

“Is it?” Tom turned back to you.

“Yes!” You couldn’t believe him. But this seemed a bit too familiar of a conversation. “And beside no explanation would make me forgive you!” You stated, whispering, not wanting any of the attention you were receiving.

“I’m not… I… If you just listen to me,” Tom said.

You glared, “I don’t want anything to do with you.”

“Then why did you come to the bar?” He asked.

He fucking asked.

Your eyes widened. He had gone there. He knew. He fucking knew you’d gone back because you wanted an explanation. Or so he thought. No, you’d gone back because… Yes, because you wanted an explanation. Because everything he’d done had been beautiful. Until the heartbreak. He had crafted and vexed his way into your cold stupid heart and then he had gone and pierced right through it, crushed it.

You wanted to ask why. Why did he do it so vehemently?

You didn’t answer, instead you moved one seat away. He kept his eyes on you.

“You wouldn’t have gone if you didn’t want an explanation,” he said. “Or to see me, at least. I know I did, I needed to see you.”

You saw the guy with the backpack purse his lips, knowing that Tom had got you. There was little context for them. The girl with the book directed a glance to you, trying to read your emotions.

If they knew, they’d be on your side and yelling at him as well.

He rested his elbows on his knees and rubbed his face.

“I didn’t, it was a coincidence,” you answered coldly.

“No, it bloody wasn’t,” Tom scoffed and then sat up. “No, I’m… No, but you know, you went to the bar for a reason.”

“And I left for a million more,” you frowned.

Tom pursed his lips and took out the paper again, trying to make out whatever he’d written before. “I’m really sorry.” His eyes traced through the note.

“Are you genuinely trying to read it? Don’t you know what you’re supposed to apologize for?”

Tom looked up, “So you do want me to apologize?”

The guy with the backpack squeezed his eyes shut, knowing Tom had fucked up.

“You’re kidding, right? Yes, you have to apologize, what you did is really, really shitty!” You pointed out.

“But you won’t forgive me, then?” Tom watched you.

“I don’t know,” you said and he looked up, a beaming gaze. “No, I won’t.”

He wrinkled his eyes, “I… I know I’m supposed to apologize, not to expect you to forgive. I'm just…”

He gulped, and then sat back, staring at the dirty walls and lights. He had dressed up. Badly, but he had tried looking good, you could tell. You could smell his lotion, too.

He was fiddling with the paper, crumpling up and then it fell to the floor. You looked at it and somehow related to it, not sure how.

You took a deep breath so you wouldn’t kill him and turned to him. “I have questions for you, if you answer them I might consider listening to you.”

Tom’s eyes brightened up. “Yes, yes, anything.”

You eyed him up and down as he watched you with begging eyes. You avoided his gaze. Tom followed your gaze as you tried to figure out what was the first thing you could ask him. Why had he hurt you?

Why did he not stop and think before making you fall in love with him?

Why did he not stop and tell you the truth?

“Where are you staying?” You asked,

Tom blinked. “Is that… is that the question?”

“No, but I know you don’t know how to fucking get anywhere,” you said.

Tom gulped, “I… uh, again with Harrison,” he explained.

You sighed. You remembered Harrison alright. And though there was a petty part inside you, you would help him out. Knowing he’d always get lost in the city. Though you could let him get lost, so you’d have to go after him and spend a bit more time. With an excuse, because you didn’t seem to have any excuse to be with him.

It hurt. What hurt the most was trying not to look back at the incredible moments you had because none of them were true.

You sighed. “Okay, when we get down you’ll take the F train—“

Tom stopped you, taking your hand. “No, wait, I don’t care if I get lost, okay, I… I just.”

You snatched your hand away from his cold hands he had. You darkened your gaze at him.

“Please, Y/n, I just need a chance. If you don’t want to listen… maybe I’ll just…” He handed you the note.

You crossed your arms, and tapped your foot, trying to decide whether or not to give it to him. “Fine,” you took the note.

You've gotten to your stop. So you stood up.

The girl with the book and the guy with the backpack watched you both as you walked out, pitying they couldn’t follow the drama.

Tom followed after you, he licked his lips. “You… you had questions, right?”

“Yeah.” You nodded, taking yet another heavy breath. You turned on your feet to look at him “One, did you lie to me?”

Tom was taken back by this, his eyes, consternated, only watched you. He gulped. “What?”

“Did you lie to me?

“I… well.”

You were getting desperate. “Did you ?”

“I didn’t lie about how I felt,” he said. You knew he wasn’t lying about it. He couldn’t. He couldn’t have ever lied about how he felt because you knew he had felt it too, a bit, at least,

You rolled your eyes, “Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, whatever.”

“I mean it, I…” Tom gulped. “I really liked you.”

“Yeah, I know, you liked me yadda, yadda,” you started. Liked not loved. “Cut the bullshit for once, did you or did you not lie to me?”

Tom took a deep breath. “Yes. But I had feelings for you.”

You bit your inner cheeks. “Uh-huh, yes, okay, good, yes, you acknowledge it. So, we have two statements here, Tom. You say you had feelings yet you lied to me,” you squinted. “Sounds-”

Tom gulped and avoided your gaze. “I know yes,” he looked down. “But, if you give me-”

“Ah, buh-buh, nope, I’m just gathering my thoughts here,” you coughed. “I need you to look me in the eyes and tell me what you felt.”

Tom shook his head in confusion. “I—I’m”

“Go on,” you motioned your hand.

“Y/N,” he said. And the way he dared to say your name was like having a knife right through you. “I had—I have feelings for you,” he said looking right into your eyes.

He didn’t say what feelings.

You were not sure where you wanted to go with this. “Fine, my next question…” you really didn’t know where this was going. “So, alright, you…” You couldn’t even phrase it. “You… made me fall in love with you knowing….Well, we both know what you did. What you hid from me. You’re a liar who made me—“

Tom took a deep breath. “Yes, but I didn’t… plan that.”

Your eyes widened. “Oh, so it’s my fault?” You stepped back. “Sorry for developing feelings for you. Sorry for ruining your life—“

Tom closed his eyes, “No, no, look, I… wasn’t. I didn’t come here expecting to meet you, I didn’t want… It just happened, okay, I never thought—You're making it sound like it’s some big master plan. I—I never planned—I never would’ve ever planned on hurting you.”

You watched him, incredulous. “Thomas you do realize what you did to me?”

“I do.”

“No, you don’t! You’re trying to make me seem like I’m crazy for not even wanting to talk to you!” You called him out.

“I’m not, I’m just saying that if you’re here—you must miss it too, you know it was too real, and you want it back, possibly—M-maybe not, but if you came to the bar tonight it was in hopes of finding me again because you knew I’d be there, and you want to feel how you felt before, and i just… you know I miss it and that you knew I didn’t lie—“

You glared at him. “You did lie!”

“Okay—yes, yes I did—But not entirely, I just happened to omit one truth—“

“One very important truth,” you snarked.

“Fine but—please listen,” he tried to convince you. “and I’m sorry, okay? I—I didn’t want to hurt you. But I never planned this. It just happened. I didn’t come here expecting to fall in love with anyone, I didn’t come here trying to date, and I never expected it to be someone as complex—“

“Complex?”

“Yes, I never came to New York trying to find the most mental relationship I’ve ever had—“

“Mental?” You snapped.

“Yes! I love you but you’re fucking crazy! And I am too! I’m fucking crazy and mental but I—I—I loved being crazy and mental with you! We are fucking mental! Driving to nowhere? Breaking into places? Getting a jukebox on the subway? That’s mental! But—but I love that about you, alright? Don’t you get it? I could’ve stayed in London, I could've been the asshole who just ditched you and lied to you—“

You scoffed. “Well that’s comforting!”

“But I’m—I’m here, ain’t I? And I know I fucked up, I know, I accept that, I’m the asshole here, and I know you’ll never—I hid it from you because I didn’t know what was going on, I didn’t even get it myself. I’m here to give you my version of it. I didn’t realize I was falling in love with you…I am…,I am in love with you, and I never planned that, I wasn’t supposed to fall in love with someone else, it just happened. I may have thought it was just—Some fling, initially.”

You laughed cynically. “A fling.”

He gulped. “And the moment I realized what was really going on—”

“You left, that’s what you fucking did, when you realized it was way too real for you, you destroyed the one real thing you’ve ever known,” you barked, he stepped back. “I fell in love with you, I—I—and then you ditched me, and I thought that was the worst thing you could ever do to me but then I realized that it wasn’t real! I—you were never mine, Tom! I simply was—a break you needed or—a fling.”

“It wasn’t that—“

You watched him. Looking so innocent, kind eyes and tender lips. You would’ve believed him had he come before.

“You used me!” You snapped, the words that had wanted to come for a while just blurted out. “I just can’t believe you,” you said. “You don’t feel sorry.” You shook your head, your voice was cracking. “You're not sorry because you don’t understand. You don’t know what I went through, and if you had come earlier, if you hadn’t left me, I probably would have believed you. But—No! No!” You stepped back. “No!”

“I did call! You never picked up the phone! I tried—“Tom started.

“Was I really expected to pick it up? Let’s get back to it. Shall we? The facts. Did you or did you not date me? And made me fall in love with you?”

Tom sighed. “I—yes.”

“Did you lie?”

“…yes.”

You nodded. “Was I the other one?”

Tom squinted his eyes. “No… yes, no.”

You took a deep breath. “Did you leave me without an explanation?”

Tom looked down. “I did.”

“Did you ditch me?”

Tom looked everywhere and nowhere. “Yes,” he answered, defeated.

“Now, do you think I can ever forgive you?”

Tom didn’t answer.

You reached for your purse, for the locket that dug deep inside. “I don’t know you,” you stated giving him the locket, the stupid locket you’d bought as a joke when making fun of other couples and now laughed in your face. “Whatever happened means nothing. Because that’s the thing Tom. Everything we lived was a lie, those two people in the locket are not us, because you weren’t who you said you were, no matter how much I loved it, it’s not true and though it was too many emotions all at once I’m—It’s not real, not for you. I spent this whole time thinking I wanted you to apologize but I don’t want it. That charming guy wasn’t truly you because you omitted one very important thing. You—What were you thinking? Were you planning to never say it? Or did you plan it like that? Just ditching me, hoping I wouldn’t find out—“

Tom took a deep breath. “No—No, I didn’t. I just—-I didn’t know what to do. I’m so sorry, I should’ve told you and I should’ve fixed it before—-“

“No, no you didn’t because it wasn’t enough for you.”

Tom gulped, “It was, it was—-the best thing I’ve ever had.”

“And you ruined it.”

“I’m sorry.”

“How little words mean when you’re a little too late, huh?” And that was the cue you needed to walk away. He silently watched you as you tried not to cry.

“I’m really sorry.” He said.

Was he?

“What if I try to prove it to you?” He asked as you were steps away from him.

You didn’t stop.

“If we go over this, you’ll see I never lied about it.” He continued.

“I already went over it, I remember everything, Tom, and maybe that’s why I don't want to talk to you.”

Tom walked behind, slowly. “I just happened to be very unlucky when it came to my own circumstances,” he reached over. “And I wish the timing had been better. But you’re right, it’s the one real thing I’ve ever had and I lost it because I hid something in fear of losing you. I lied because it was too good to be true. And I understand if you don’t want anything to do with me but I think you deserve to know why. But you went to the bar for a reason, and you had the locket for another.”

You stopped this time. Looking down at the floor and then at his hand, holding your stupid scarf. You shook your head, you really didn’t want to go through it all over again.

“I know you won’t forgive me,” he stated. “But I can’t let you go. You’re everywhere. And I miss the person I was when you were around, and I won’t stop fighting because you’re everywhere. Dreams, nightmares.”

Funny. You were his demons too.

“Am I haunting your nightmares?” You asked. Tom only watched you.

He took a deep breath. “I don’t expect you to forgive me, I just need—I really need you to listen to my version.”

“Fine then, let’s go down this sad, beautiful tragic love affair.”

-

next chapter

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[klaineficroulettechallenge-us]

Chapter 13 By BlurglesmurfKlaine

Kurt released air from his lungs, legs burning from running the Glee Club’s group number for Prom for the hundred-millionth time. 

“Vocals were much more in tune!” Mr. Schue called out. He glanced at Brittany. “Choreo?”

The blonde twisted her mouth and crossed her arms, shrugging slightly. “Rachel’s a hemisemidemiquaver off beat with her kicks, but it’s a lost cause at this point.”

Rachel dropped her jaw and drew in a sharp breath. “You’re targeting me!”

“She’s not wrong,” Mike mumbled under his breath.

She rounded on him. “You, sir,” she said through gritted teeth, “can criticize my dance moves when you stop singing almost an entire half step flat!”

“Mr. Schue,” Blaine called out. “I suggest calling rehearsal before we all go ballistic on each other.”

“Good call,” their director agreed.

“As a gesture of good will, I would like to invite all of you to the first and last annual Berry Pre-Prom Part—”

She’s cut off by a strong unison “No!” from her peers.

“Dear god, please no more Rachel Berry parties,” Kurt cried, leaving one hand in Blaine’s and bringing the other up to rub at his temples.

“Yeah,” Tina agreed. “Every time you throw a party, someone,” she shot a look at Puck, “ends up blacked out in the front yard—”

“Wait a second. Are you all drinking?” Mr. Schue asked in an astonished tone that everyone ignored.

“And somehow, all the couples nearly break up.”

“This is a dinner party,” Rachel defended herself. “My dads and I will be preparing dinner, and all you have to do is show up dressed to the nines.” She shuffled her feet a bit. “I just wanted to do something nice since it’s the last time a lot of us will get to be together.”

Kurt swallowed around his drying throat, and as if he could sense his anxiety, Blaine squeezed his hand reassuringly. 

“Alright. Alright, man-hands.” Santana waved her arms in front of her face. “We cave. If anyone starts crying, I’m walking out of here.”

Rachel clapped her hands together. “Perfect! I’ll see you all on Friday, then!”

“Speaking of Prom,” Kurt mentioned as the rest of the New Directions gathered their things, “have you given much thought to our Prom duet?”

“I have,” Blaine hummed. “I was thinking of going with something a bit punny.”

Kurt raised his eyebrows. “Oh, do tell.” 

“What do you think of ‘The Promise’?” He held his hands out like stars. “Get it?“

“I think you’re a dork, but honestly, I can’t say I don’t love it. 80s pop feels about right for us.” Kurt didn't miss the way Blaine’s mouth twitched at his final word. “It’s the crossroads of our music tastes.”

Blaine hummed in agreement. “We should sound check it some time before Prom. Unrelated, but have you heard from Landon? Do you think he’s doing alright?”

“I’ve invited him to come hang out several times, invited him to PFLAG meetings, jam sessions with the Glee Club. But every time, he just says he’s busy ‘smashing boards’ with a friend. Whatever the hell that means.”

“Is that slang for…”

“If Landon found someone in Lima to hook up with, I’ll be impressed more than anything.”

—*—

Landon faked left then broke right, rushing past Dave and going for a layup.

Dave’s unrelenting competitive side remained a tad annoyed, but he couldn’t help but smile when his new friend made a point. Their one-on-one game was now all tied up, which meant the next one to score would win. 

This was what they’d been doing the past few days. Landon would wait for Dave when the final bell rang, then the two of them would walk over to the nearby park for a game or two. In the past few days, over their walks, Dave had learned a lot about Landon. 

He could catch peanut M&Ms in his mouth. He was really funny—like, laughing so hard Dave choked on his drink funny. His guilty pleasure was Grey’s Anatomy, which he used to watch with his mom after work when he was younger.

He liked Dave.

At least, Dave thought he did. 

Maybe not as more than friends, but they got along really well, and since Azimio refused to speak to him after coming out, he was the closest friend Dave had.

Landon checked the ball and bounced it over to Dave, who passed it back. “So, what’s Prom like here?”

Prom. David sighed. If he could do it all over again, he’d muster up the courage to dance with Kurt like he’d asked. Maybe Kurt would still have some respect for him.

“It’s a little overrated, to tell you the truth. Honestly, I’d rather just hang out with you if I could.”

Landon stopped the game, tucked the basketball under his arm, and shifted his weight beneath his feet. “So, uh, why don’t you and I go?”

David froze so fast he nearly tripped over his feet. “Together?”

“Uh, yeah. As, like, friends…or whatever.” Landon took Dave’s faltering face as an answer. “You know what, it was stupid of me to ask—”

“No!”

“No as in you don’t wanna go—”

“No as in you weren’t stupid to ask. I think you’re really cool. It's been fun to hang out with someone who kind of just…gets me, ya know?” Landon smiled, and Dave dreaded his next words, since they might make it fade. “But I did already agree to go with someone else.”

“Oh, I see…”

“But it was only as friends! I’ll talk to him. See what I can do.”

“Okay.” The smile returned to Landon’s face. “Cool.” 

He passed the ball back to Dave.

—*—

“I didn’t think you’d meet me.”

Blaine sighed. The text he’d gotten from Dave saying to meet him in the courtyard had caught him off guard, but in the end, he’d given in to his curiosity. “Honestly, I didn’t think I’d come. But I think Kurt’s dealt with enough of your shenanigans .”

Dave flinched, and for a moment, Blaine felt almost a little guilty. He knew Dave was a changed person, but he also saw the toll it had taken on Kurt. Kurt could forgive, but rest assured, Blaine wouldn’t forget.

“Yeah. I figured he wouldn’t answer. And you might show up, just for the chance that you might get a good punch in.”

Blaine snorted. “I don’t want to fight you, Dave.”

“You don’t not wanna fight me, though. If I took a swing, I know you wouldn’t hold back.”

“Really? How do you figure?”

“You love Kurt too much not to.”

Blaine’s throat went dry. How was it obvious to everyone but Kurt how much Blaine cared? 

He shook his head. “Why, uh, why’d you call me?”

“I have something for you. Well, for Kurt.” Dave held out his hand and uncurled a fist, revealing the hippo brooch his aunt had given him before she passed. 

He couldn’t help but smile. “He’ll be happy to see this.”

“Yeah. I figured. He, uh, left it at the brooch when he rejected me on Valentine’s Day. I know I already had the whole ‘break his heart and I’ll break your legs’ chat with you, but… I really want you to know how lucky I think you are. Not just to have Kurt but to have something special between you two.”

“Oh. Uh, thank you.” Blaine nodded and took the brooch, holding it up for a second. “I’ll, uh, make sure Kurt gets this.”

He turned to leave but stopped himself.

“I… I hope you find happiness, Dave.”

Dave shrugged, lips pursed in an unsteady smile. “Yeah. Me, too.”

—*—

Burt let Blaine right upstairs when he came over to pick up Kurt before Rachel’s dinner, as Kurt was still in front of his mirror, buttoning up his shirt and gently batting his hair into place. If he’d learned anything from his fashion magazines, it’s that a great outfit cannot be rushed.

Blaine knocked on the side of his open door, and Kurt turned to him. “What do you think? Is this outfit worthy of a Prom King candidate?”

He ran his eyes up and down Kurt’s body, unable to help himself and wondering if he was imagining Kurt’s small smirk and red cheeks.

“You look fantastic,” Blaine said, intentionally allowing his voice to trail off.

“But…?” Kurt prodded him.

“But I think you could use one final touch.”

Blaine stepped towards Kurt and unfurled his hand, revealing the hippo brooch.

“I… Where did you get that?” 

He smiled lightly as he pinned the brooch to Kurt’s chest. “Dave gave it to me. I have a feeling we won’t be bothered by him anymore.”

“And Sebastian?” 

“That’s a whole other can of worms. I will say, he means nothing to me. Nothing he can say or do would get my attention again.”

“So, if Sebastian is irrelevant…and Dave doesn’t seem as interested anymore…is this the end?” 

“Of?”

“Us?”

Blaine’s blood ran cold. He cleared his throat. “I, uh—We’ll—There’s still Prom court. Brittany and Santana, the queer community, they need us.”

“And then? What—What happens after Prom?”

Nothing and everything, he wanted to say.

Blaine wanted nothing to change. He wanted to continue to walk Kurt to class, continue holding his hand, and continue to press smiling kisses to his temple around their friends. 

But he wanted everything to change, too. He wanted to take Kurt out on a date that wasn’t just for show, the way he’d taken him on one after Cooper showed up. Blaine wanted to kiss Kurt senseless when there was no audience to coo at them, wanted Kurt to take him like Blaine belonged to him, wanted their hands to hold each other, fearlessly and forever.

And that was the most terrifying thing. 

Blaine knew exactly what he wanted now. He wanted to cross a line that reset itself every time he took a step. He wanted to break boundaries that kept repairing themselves after he’d finally mustered enough courage to shatter them.

Blaine knew what he wanted, but what did Kurt want?

“I, uh, I think we should get going before we’re late.”

Kurt’s bright blue eyes dimmed, and that almost hurt Blaine as much as keeping the love he had for this boy inside did.

—*—

“You what!?”

“I gave him the brooch back,” Dave said calmly, though inside, he was buzzing with all sorts of emotions.

“It was a stupid plan,” Sebastian sneered, “but it was the only plan we had! I don’t know what’s gotten into you, but you’d better figure it out before Prom; otherwise, you’ll have to find another date besides me.”

“I already did.”

“By the way, what are you wea—” Sebastian set his drink down on the table at The Lima Bean. “Come again?”

“I already found another date. I thought I ought to do the right thing and tell you myself, in person.”

“Oh.” Sebastian averted his eyes from Dave’s and took another sip of his coffee. 

He might have been imagining it, but he thought he saw Sebastian’s cheeks go a bit red. Probably just the heat of the coffee.  

“How the hell am I supposed to get in then? You might have given up on our project, but that doesn’t mean I have.”

“Look. Why are you so interested in Anderson anyway?”

“You don’t get it. I was supposed to be the one who didn’t want him.”

“Is that what this is? An ego thing? Haven’t we wasted enough time on them, trying to break them apart when we could have used that time to move on and be happy ourselves?”

“If you consider all the good times we spent plotting together wasted time—”

“Good times? Sebastian, half the time you’re insulting me, and the other half, you’re obsessing over Blaine. I thought you’d be happy to be rid of me, because it seems like you don’t like me very much.”

Sebastian didn’t reply. He sat there, arms crossed and looking down at the table.

Dave sighed. “Look. I’m a man of my word, and I already agreed to go with you, but once you’re in, I’m spending the rest of the time with my real date.” 

With that, Dave got up from his seat and walked out of the café. 

—*—

The dinner, by some force of nature, was not a total disaster in any sense. Actually, Kurt would have said it was quite nice. 

When Mercedes showed up shortly after he and Blaine, Kurt didn’t miss the way Sam ushered her to her seat, guiding her with his arm, both of them fighting smiles the entire time.

The food was delicious. Everyone was delightfully giddy with the mix of pre-Prom jitters and nostalgia, telling reminiscent stories of their freshman and sophomore years. 

Any lull in the conversation was met with a bittersweet clench from his heart. This would be over soon. In a matter of weeks, the faces around him wouldn’t be ones he’d see every day; the voices he’d sing with on a regular basis wouldn’t be there to comfort him. 

His stomach churned.

In a matter of days, he’d lose Blaine. At least having him like this—their hands intertwined, running his thumb over Blaine’s hand while he embarrassingly explained the Gap Attack.

There was a loud outburst of laughter at the conclusion of the story, so Kurt certainly wasn’t expecting Sanatana to roll her eyes and say, “Earth to Hummel? Stop staring at your boyfriend, and tell us the story of how you two hooked up.”

“Um… You already know that,” Kurt tried, sending Blaine a panicked look.

“Okay. We all know that Blaine asked you to Prom, and that’s when you got together,” Tina started, looking at them adoringly. “But you two have been so secretive! When did you know you were in love?”

Kurt swallowed hard and exchanged a wary glance with Mercedes. He opened his mouth, unsure what lie was about to come out, before the voice next to him stopped him.

“It was a little over a year ago.” Kurt snapped his head to Blaine, eyes wide and mouth agape. “I… Pavoratti had just died, and Kurt came into Warbler’s rehearsal, not giving a shit about anything except paying respect to that bird. He wore all black, looked amazing, and I remember, despite being incredibly saddened about Pav, I couldn’t help but smile at Kurt just…being himself.

“He, ah…” Blaine looked over at him, eyes locking for a moment. “He sang ‘Blackbird.’ And it didn’t just move me to tears; it moved me. I already knew Kurt was incredibly compassionate and moral, but to see it in action like that? It awoke something in me that had been sleeping since the day we’d met. It was just like, Oh, there you are. I’ve been looking for you forever. ”

In the still moments after Blaine concluded, Kurt swallowed back the lump in his throat, eyes brimming with tears and head swimming with questions.

How much of that story is true? The thought of none of it being accurate is heartbreaking. The thought of all of it? Terrifying.

Kurt nearly forgot about everyone else at the table, opening his mouth to prod Blaine more about this, when he’s cut off by a collective cooing from the rest of the New Directions.

“God, that is so sweet,” Rachel cried then immediately jetted off into a tangent. “It reminds me so much of when Finn and I first started dating—”

Kurt loved Rachel, but it was easy to zone out when she’s telling a story. 

Especially when he was replaying Blaine’s words in his head over and over again, heart racing and still holding his hand.

—*—

Kurt and Blaine were the last ones to leave, staying behind a few extra minutes to help the Berrys clean up the aftermath of the dinner.

After Hiram and LeRoy thanked them, the two bid their goodbyes and stood on the porch for a moment. 

“Another successful day of pulling the wool over everyone’s eyes, huh?” Blaine said sheepishly. 

“Yeah,” Kurt agreed. “Mostly thanks to you. That speech, that story. It was, uh, really beautiful. You really sold it.” The smile Kurt gave him was thin and tight, and Blaine could tell there was something else on his mind. “All for show, right?”

His stomach churned. A few seconds of bravery was all it would take to change the path of their story, to end all the confusion, all the heartache and emotional turmoil he’d been feeling for the past three months. 

One way or another, three seconds of courage would end things, for better or worse.

“Kurt,” Blaine sighed. He faced Kurt and swallowed back his fear. Three seconds. He could do this.“Aren’t you tired?”

He cocked his head to the side. “What?” 

“Because I’m exhausted. It’s… It takes so much mental energy to keep this hidden and—” 

“What are you talking about?” 

“Kurt, what I said in there…wasn’t all for show. The reason it was so believable is because it was the truth. I love you. I’ve been in love with you probably for longer than I’ve even realized.”

Kurt gasped, not immediately responding, and all the backed up thoughts came rushing out of Blaine’s mouth. 

“A-and if you don’t feel the same, I completely understand. Because you’re still my best friend, and I don’t want to lose that, but I can’t not—”

And then, Kurt’s arms were around his neck, and his lips crashed into his, warmer than the spring night air enveloping them. 

Blaine hmph’d as an initial reaction to the shock, but after it wore off, he dug in. He snaked an arm behind Kurt’s back, drawing him closer and tilting his head forward to deepen the kiss. 

They’d done this so many times before, but this time felt different. It felt unbridled and unhinged and unrelenting in the best way. Now, there was no reason to hold back, no reason Blaine couldn’t pull away for a breath and then dive right back into Kurt like heds been aching to for months now. No reason Kurt should feel any embarrassment when his tongue crossed into Blaine’s mouth, eliciting a well-earned sigh.

No reason they couldn’t stay tangled up in each other forever.

After what felt like eons and simultaneously not long enough, Blaine finally pulled away, looking up into Kurt’s blown pupils through his lashes.

They stood there, frozen in the doorway, staring into each other’s eyes with racing hearts.

This was real. This was happening.

Now what?

_*_

The next chapter, by Just Gleek Out, will be posted tomorrow. Only 3 more chapters left.

[extremelyblackandwhite]

scrubs - 5.

pairing: doctor!sebastian stan x biomedical scientist!reader

warnings: medical check up (please do not follow any of the medical advice described her)

a/n: this will have another chapter aside from this one because yes. 

< previous chapter

    - Y/N, stop being childish. - Sebastian rolled his eyes at the scientist now holding herself against reception, deciding she’d rather be seen by anyone but him. - Y/N, c’mon.

    - I don’t want to be seen by you. There are over 50 nurses on shift today and any of them can do a basic exam better than you. - she held onto that counter for dear life, knowing the moment she decided to let go, her ankle would give up on her. Nevertheless, she knew what nurses were capable off and most of the times they wouldn’t even need a doctor’s opinion so she definitely didn’t need him. 

    - Yeah but ... - he approached her, a smug smile forming on his entirely way too handsome face. - But I know your body so, so well, darling. I think I can figure out if something is wrong.

Y/N smiled sarcastically, cocking her head to the side before kicking his leg. Sebastian bite down onto his lip, back hunching slightly as a few nurses passed by. He waved at them, smiling as if his tibia throbbed due to her kick. For a small woman, she sure had a powerful kick. He straightened his back, pulling one of the wheel chairs from the back of the reception and rolling it up to where she was but she remained as stiff as one could be with a swollen ankle, with one hand against her hip while the other one firmly gripped the counter of the reception. 

   - Sit down, Y/N. Don’t make me write you up as unfit to work today.

   - I am not unfit to work today, I am unfit to look at your face for more than 5 seconds.  

   - Okay, Y/N then walk in a straight line for me, straight spine, shoulders back. - he stepped out of her way.

She considered trying to do that, surely she could deal with the pain of her own weight on her ankle for at least a few minutes. Yet again she considered the options of successfully doing so and getting away from him until another doctor or nurse passed by and the option of falling flat on her face in front of him. Her resolve quickly wore down as she remembered just  how small her tolerance of pain was and how much she did not want to embarrass herself in front of him by falling on her face.  Unlike him, she could be professional. After all she wasn’t the first staff member to sleep with a doctor and certainly wouldn’t be the last; besides, she was nothing if not a professional. She sighed, sitting down on the worn out fabric of the wheel chair. She’d give him this one, she thought to herself as he wheeled her into his office.

Despite her constantly nagging him about his results, she’d actually never gone up to his office that often. Dr. Stan was normally the one who’d made his way to her laboratory not the other way around. As a long time doctor, he had his own little office to receive his patients and as such, he decorated it how he pleased it and despite her wanting nothing but to compliment him after his past actions, she had to admit it was probably one of the calmest more inviting offices she’d seen before. Instead of the scary almost macabre posters of human anatomy and regular pathologies, he had some abstract art on his walls with one or two models on his desk and a most likely fake plant on too. 

     - Want help getting onto the stretcher? 

     - Fuck off, Stan. I can do it myself. - she couldn’t do it herself. 

She looked at the stretcher as a goal keeper looks at a football. The stretcher couldn’t be taller than the height from her feet to just slightly above her hip, yet it seems as if that height was now taller than Mount Everest. Y/N calculated her movements and put her hands on top of the stretcher, pulling herself up with her arms and dragging herself into the middle of the stretcher, legs and arms out but her torso was in so she wiggled herself into laying down completely on the stretcher before pulling herself up.

    - We could’ve done that in a second if you’d let me help you. - he rolled his eyes, stepping in front of her and the stretcher.

    - I can help myself, Doctor.

    - Oh, is Doctor now? - he replied rather sarcastically, pulling opening the glove compartment in his office. - Are you allergic to latex or any ingredient in regular plastic gloves I should know about?

    - Shouldn’t you know if I am allergic to latex? - she cocked her side to the side much to his displeasure. - No, no latex allergies. 

    - Okay ... - he put some bright blue gloves on before walking back to her. - First, I’m just going to palpate around the top of your scalp to check for any trauma or signs of injury. 

    - My ankle is hurting, not my head.

    - You hit your head, it’s standard procedure. - her shoulders slumped as he proceeded to palpate around her head. It felt ridiculous, she was fine, she did not need an examination of her head. - Looks good, no bumps, so the fall probably wasn’t harsh on your head.

    - I could have told you that. Do they not teach you to hear to your patients in med school?

    - How would you know? You didn’t go to med school. 

    - I’m starting to think you didn’t either. 

    - Okay. - he rolled his eyes once more at her snide remark. - The next thing I am going to do is have a look inside your ears to see if there’s any bleeding, just to make sure we’re covering all our bases.

    - Why are you telling me? You’re the doctor. - Sebastian ignored her, taking his otoscope out of the pocket of his coat and placing a rubber disposable tip on the end before putting it up to her ear and switching to the other one. 

   - Everything looks good in both ears, no signs of bleeding. Your tympanic membranes look clear and I didn’t see any fluids or blood behind them. No defects and if it interests you to know there’s also no excess wax build up. Can you just tell me if it was painful or sore when I looked into your ear?

   - Shouldn’t you have asked that while you were looking into my ear?

   - Y/N if you don’t start taking this seriously, I ...

   - You will what?

   - Do you seriously want me to call a nurse on you? I normally only have to do that with children and elderly patients.

    - You wouldn’t. - she squinted, hands gripping the material of the stretcher.

    -  Try me. - he crossed his arms. - I’ll ask again. Was it painful or sore when I looked into your ear?

    - Yes.

    - What?

    - No. - she held in a laugh, bitting the inside of her lip. 

    - Y/N ...

    - Glad to know you have not forgotten your patient’s name, doctor. Doing great.    

    - Okay, Y/N. I need you to be serious with me now and answer truthfully or I’ll order a CT scan for you.

    - I hate CT scans.

    - I know. - he smirked. - So, what’s it gonna be?

    - Would you seriously make the hospital cover an expensive CT scan to check for a concussion that I don’t have just to upset me?

   - Oh, no, sweetheart. If you continue to be a brat, I will order a full body CT scan and if they ask I’ll just say I’m covering all my bases. So, what’s it gonna be? You’re gonna play nice or do you prefer to get an exam done?

    - Call me sweetheart again and you’ll get a concussion. How about that? 

    - You can do whatever you want to do to me after we’re done but until then you will answer the questions I have truthfully. Deal?

    - What other option do I have? - she crossed her arms at him. Y/N knew she was being unnecessarily difficult with him but she also knew that there was a 0.1% chance she had a concussion. Nevertheless, he looked dead serious on ordering a CT scan for her and the last thing she wanted was to have a claustrophobic attack because she refused to answer a few questions. - Fine.

   - Good. So, what time did this happen?

   - I don’t know, I don’t exactly look at my watch after falling down the stairs. 

   - Y/N ...

   - Like ... 20 minutes ago. 

   - What did you feel when you fell?

   - My head was pounding, my ankle felt hottish and I felt a bit nauseous.

    - Do you feel nauseous when you feel pain or is that something new for you?

    - No, it happens when I get hurt. 

    - Any dizziness or blurred vision? Metallic taste in the mouth, almost blood like?

    - I don’t think so.  

    - Any tingling or weird sensations around your face and neck?  

    - No. 

    - Okay, so ... I’m gonna have a look in your eyes. - he took his light from the same pocket he had taken the otoscope from. - I need you to look at me and not at the light. Don’t focus on it, okay?

She nodded, deciding it would be best if she went along with it before she was stuck in his office for a whole hour. He turned the light on and she did as was required of her by staring at him. She thought she could make him feel uncomfortable but it ended up being her who felt uncomfortable as flashes from last night picked that exact moment to return to her brain. Y/N told herself to cut it off and tried to continue to stare at him but gave up after a few minutes of her now sober brain deciding to show her exactly what she had been doing last night. She turned her head to the side, closing her eyes forcefully.

   - Are you okay, Y/N? - he put a hand on her shoulder but she shook him away, turning her face back to a neutral position. - Too bright.

   - Well ... uhm, yeah it is shining directly in my eyes.

   - Okay. I don’t need to look more into them, they look fine. Nothing to worry about. I just need you to open your mouth now?

   - What? No.

   - Why not? 

   - Because ... - because my brain has decided that sounds much less innocent than it actually sounds. - Because I don’t want to.

   - Y/N, c’mon. I just need you to open your mouth and then check your ankle and you can be out of here just like you want to.

   - I don’t want you looking into my mouth. 

   - I have seen you naked and that’s what you’re worried about? Me looking into your mouth? 

   - You are not a dentist, you don’t need to be looking into my mouth.

   - Your answer was unclear so yeah, I need to. Open your mouth. 

   - Stop asking me that. Can you pose the question in a different manner?

   - God, I swear if you’re doing this on purpose. 

   - I am not. 

   - Fine. Say ah, then. 

   - That just sounds worse. - she felt her cheeks heat up. 

Sebastian rolled his eyes, pulling the chair from behind his desk. This surely was going to take longer than expected. He knew she’d be defensive but he didn’t know she would be so difficult. In all honesty, he didn’t even know why she was mad at him. The only thing he could remember was being hit by her files before she stormed off. Yet again, Y/N was almost always annoying with him so it wasn’t a new occurrence. The new occurrence was a patient asking him to reformulate the question. 

   - Y/N what are you ... oh. - it finally dawned on him. - That’s not work appropriated, Y/N.

   - I swear if you keep on talking I will throw you off your own window.

   - So dirty. - he took one of the wooden spatulas from the stand on his desk. 

   - Fuck off.

   - Come on. - she reluctantly opened her mouth and had it not been for the wooden spatula holding her tongue and jaw down, she would’ve probably closed it as fast as she had opened it. - Looks good. I just need to repeat some numbers back at me, okay? 55, 10, 40, 9, 1.

    - 55, 10, 40, 9, 1. 

    - Good. I don’t think you have any concussion. I just need to check your ankle now. Can you put your foot on my lap and please not kick me?

     - I’m tempted to. -  she rose her ankle and placed it on his lap. He proceeded to take of her shoe and sock before starting to palpate around her ankle which was visibly swollen. 

    - I’m gonna turn your foot to the left and to the right. If anything hurts, let me know, okay? - she nodded as he turned her foot carefully to the lift and to the right, but it didn’t hurt, it was just sore. - No pain?

    - No.

    - Good news, I don’t think it’s broken, just strained. Some ibuprofen for inflammation and some ice and in a few hours you can at least limp without pain. 

    - I don’t have some hours. Unlike you, I have work to get done.

    - So do I, Y/N. You think I enjoyed having you take longer than 30 minutes in what should’ve been a 15/20 minute exam? 

    - Oh, I’m sorry. - she interrupted him. - Did my injury overstep on your gossiping about sleeping with me? I’m so sorry, I’m sure the whole hospital will still be waiting for you anyway.

    - What?

    - Can you please give me a minute so I can limp out of here in anger?

    - You think I’m telling the hospital staff I slept with you?

    - Well, the whole hospital knows and I didn’t tell them so unless we had a threesome I have recollection about then there’s only two of us who knew and if I didn’t tell them, guess who did? And before you can answer it’s you, the answer is you. 

    - I didn’t tell anyone, Y/N. I have better things to do than discuss my sex life with the whole hospital. 

   - That’s just dandy. - she jumped of the stretcher, ignoring the pain which started in her ankle and climbed up her leg but she didn’t mind. Now she was upset, one thing was him telling everyone and the other one was denying he had done as such. - You know what Sebastian? I get it, you slept with the lab girl who annoys you and you wanna tell everyone about it. Fine, but at least admit it. 

   - Y/N, I didn’t tell anyone.

   - Fine, say whatever makes you feel better.  

taglist: @rebekahdawkins​

[imgonnapanic]

Third gym squad with a theater kid s/o:

Kuroo Tetsurou

Tbh, he knew what he was signing up for when he started dating you.

He’s just not used to it, because he doesn’t have many extroverted friends who aren’t annoying pieces of-

I can envision you both going on the hub to watch pirated musicals. Hamilton, Heathers, Dear Evan Hansen, you name it.

He loooves your singing voice, even if it’s your nervous purposely bad one.

You love the musicals that include allll the good stuff (trauma, death, tragedy, etc.)

Or the iconic ones. You can’t forget about those.

So you’re less-than-thrilled when your school chooses “Honk! The Musical” for this years play.

It’s a spin off of the ugly duckling that no one has heard of.

And when you come up to Kuroo sulking about this boring play you’re emotionally obliged to do, he can’t help but laugh a little.

But his laughter stops when he sees your eyes down at your shoes.

And then he shuts the fuck up because you’re actually upset.

After assuring that you will still be Broadway material even if you’re dressed up as a goose, you feel a little better.

In the two weeks leading up to auditions, Kuroo is starting to get caught humming “A Poultry Tale” at practice.

I mean, his Spotify feed went from Kendrick Lamar to Legally Blonde within one month of dating you, so cut the guy a break.

The day of auditions, you’re a bundle of nerves as you go over the dumb song again and again.

And Kuroo is like “calm down babe you’re gonna do great.”

That sure did a ton.

“Shut up Heather”

...

“Sorry Heather”

He’s also a bundle of nerves at practice, though. He just couldn’t let you see it.

By now, all of the Nekoma team knows you’re auditioning today, and the minute he walks in he just holds up a hand.

“They’re auditioning as we speak”

He’s not surprised when you get the lead.

He looks like the cat who ate the canary he’s a little amused when he figures out the lead is named “Ugly” but by now he has learned to keep it on the inside.

Your schedule is now jam packed, but that’s okay, because Nationals are also coming up for Kuroo and needs to put in some extra hours at the gym anyways.

You better believe two months later Kuroo is making his entire team buy a ticket.

Kuroo didn’t even get to see you on opening night because of dress rehearsals, but that’s okay.

He cleared his entire schedule that day and now has time to wallow in his own excitement and buy you some flowers.

He’s there with the squad team at 6PM sharp, dressed up, and trying to keep his dignity.

When you first walk on stage, the team snickers a little bit at your costume, but Kuroo was completely enraptured by your singing voice, your blocking, your makeup, everything.

This was much better than the demo CD that they had given you.

Afterwards, he gives you your flowers and is glued to your side for the rest of the night, babbling about how proud he was of you, and how talented you are, Nekoma team be damned.

Tsukishima Kei

Tsukki-poo already had a soft spot for the arts before he met you.

Not that he would tell anyone, ever.

When you started dating him though, it gave him an excuse to share his favorite soundtracks.

“you can hit that note, you know.”

*cue the arguing about how you aren’t Barbara Streisand*

When you two are walking through the hallway with him and you see the poster reading “Auditions for Karasuno High School’s ‘The Little Mermaid’ are open!” You start freaking out.

You love that movie! And Kei tolerates it!

Kei honestly thought you would be Ariel/Prince Eric when he first heard you singing “Part of Your World”

Like, you have the voice of a fucking lark. The directors have to be batshit crazy not to cast you.

In his humble opinion.

So he’s a bit taken aback when you get the role of Flounder, but he’s very proud anyways. Especially after you explain that there’s musical numbers that you’re in that aren’t in the movie.

He just hates your director for no reason now.

Practicing your lines with him in your free time becomes almost inevitable because you both have nothing else better to do.

And he can see how into it you are.

And let me just say that you are killing it.

Seriously. You have no problem getting into character, and Kei doesn’t say this much but-

It’s fucking adorable, okay? He has little goth moths in his stomach.

And he can’t wait to see the show, because then he can show you off.

That doesn’t mean he likes the other first years prying at your progress.

Hinata’s incessant questioning about theater anatomy and the memorization of your lines gets really annoying.

Even for someone with a normal temper like you-

“Yes it’s called the right wing. NOT wing spiker. Yes they’re off book. Now will you shut your trap already?”

Dress Rehearsals come, and you’re spinning around his room, face morphing from complete concentration to happy, go-lucky Flounder.

You, Kei, and Yamaguchi (your little third wheel-) all know the soundtrack pretty much up and down, left and right, backwards and inside out.

He still shivers remembering the time you just walked into his house not registering that Flounder’s makeup looks kind of scary up close-

All of his pride was sacrificed that day. All of it.

On the morning of opening night, Kei was walking you to the school, pretending to be bitchy about it being on a Saturday.

“C’mon, what am I supposed to do all day?”

As luck would have it, he’s stuck sitting next to one Hinata Shoyo. Lovely.

So he sat down next to him, and ignored him the whole show. I mean, it worked, he shut up after thirty seconds.

After the show, Kei has to wait a bit for you to take your makeup off, but when you come running out, he can’t hold back a tiny grin.

“That was good. I’m proud of you.”

And then he took you to dinner because singing makes a bad bleep hungry 😌

Bokuto Kotarou

Listen, you’re loud, Bokuto’s loud-

So basically you two are on a mission to not annoy Akaashi for as long as you can before inevitably getting yelled at for your affection and love and shit.

Now, both of you would love for this to be possible.

But the Frozen soundtrack makes it too difficult.

Especially when you can edit the lyrics just to piss off Konoha.

“Turn away and slAm the door *on Konoha”

“The wind is howling like the storm inside *of Konoha”

The possibilities are endless, really.

The game changer is when you two are belting out the song where Elsa and Anna are arguing.

And you accidentally hit the “I-i-I CANNNNT”

Akaashi is like for the love of GOD just audition for the play.

He quickly realizes that his suggestion was not a good idea.

Since guess what the musical is.

You’re auditioning as a joke, okay? You love Frozen, but this is a Fukurōdani Academy level play.

You didn’t expect to land the role of Olaf.

Your director sat you down and bluntly told you that he thought that you had the charisma and energy to be Olaf, but he knew that you were auditioning for a joke.

He needed you to be committed.

And hell yeah, you were gonna be committed.

At first, Bokuto was super proud of you! His s/o as a lead role? So impressive!

You even taught Bokuto your choreography for “In Summer”

He only retained half of it, but eh.

He’s a volleyball player. He tried.

As rehearsal times became longer and longer, Bokuto was a little upset at himself because he didn’t realize how committed you were until it hit him in the face.

Akaashi is there to get him out of his funk when you aren’t, though.

“They feel the same way when you need to be in the gym longer. It’s just a part of having a passion. Just utilize your time with them wisely.”

This bitch knows full well Bokuto doesn’t do ‘wise’ though, so he also sets to him a little more.

Dress rehearsals start, and Bokuto is always waiting for you to come out of the auditorium to ride the bus home.

You’re just bubbling over with stories about the magic of being on stage.

The lights, the microphones, the costumes, just talking about it makes you nostalgic already.

On opening night, Bokuto and Akaashi are there in the front row, going through the program.

“There’s y/n!!!!”

And you can’t see him because of the blinding spotlight, but you can hear Bokuto cheering for you after you finish “In Summer”

Afterwards he gives you a big hug, and you guys go home and watch Frozen.

Akaashi Keiji

When you start dating Akaashi in your second year at Fukurōdani, you’ve been on stage for the last ten years of your life.

Singing, acting, dancing, you love it all.

You’re even considering making it your career.

Akaashi doesn’t know much about theater at all, but he makes sure to do his research since it’s such a big part of your life.

The company you take acting classes with is having their winter show soon, and you couldn’t be happier when you figure out it’s ‘Into the Woods.’

Akaashi makes the mistake of asking the plot of the story.

“So basically there are these two infertile bakers with dead parents and there’s this witch that’s old and wrinkly and she comes to their house because fifty years ago the bakers dad stole her veggies and took the magic beans that made her look old and wrinkly-“

(A/n: this isn’t even half the plot)

He decides he’ll figure it out when he sees the play.

Akaashi knows that it’s a difficult one, though.

Sondheim doesn’t fuck around.

So you shouldn’t be beating yourself up about cracking on some of the high notes and screaming into your pillow.

He feels like an idiot every time you ask him to give you constructive criticism.

He doesn’t know what to say. “That was good” is obviously not what you want to hear.

When the date of your audition rolls around, he has early morning practice.

So he sends you a text saying how far you’ve come already and he’ll be proud even if you end up being a tree and break a leg (he’s very proud of that part. Theater lingo with Akaashi 101)

He’s very pleased to hear through your extremely fast and animated chattering that you killed it.

You were going to be Jack from “Jack and the Beanstalk.”

He’s still not sure how that correlates with infertile bakers, but he’ll go with it.

You also have a notoriously hard solo, “Giants in the sky.”

Akaashi is very impressed.

All you two do is practice that song, until Akaashi is half sure he could sing the song if he really gave an effort.

(He tries seriously one time. He can’t sing. To save his life. Sorry Keiji and RIP y/n’s ears.)

“Maybe you’re just not a soprano?”

“I’ll leave the limelight to you.”

Rehearsals always leave you drained. There are so many dance numbers in the play that you have to go over.

And songs, oh god, the songs are pieces of work.

But you wouldn’t trade it for the world, so Keiji stays close, and is endlessly supportive.

You sent him a picture of your Jack costume, and Keiji is like that is kind of adorable ngl-

He walks into the auditorium you’re performing in, and even he’s nervous to be in there. It’s huge.

But when you walk on the stage, and start belting, all the breath leaves his lungs.

Oh. Ohhhhhhh. He understands the plot now.

[johnnys-coors]

Could you do one we’re tommy has a crush on the reader and so Johnny helps tommy by giving the reader 10 leaders (1 a day) and he like saying in the letter like how much they like the reader and some stuff abt them so facts etc. so when the last lettter came he tells the reader to meet him at the beach and soooo he standing there and stuff soooo then tommy asks the read out to like a diner and they end up going to a diner just of them and then they end up dating

Letters Made of Hand

Castles Made of Sand -Jimi Hendrix

Characters: Tommy, Johnny, and Y/N

Contains: fluff, kissing, and feelings

Y/N speeds up her walking, she is going to be late to Geometry. Passing by a row of lockers, she narrows her eyes to see '047D'. She rushes to her gray locker, hurriedly calculating her combination. “Ah, shit!” The lock has stopped moving, it's jammed. A few passerby's stares are felt on Y/N's back. The frustrated teenager’s cheeks grow red from the sudden attention. She glances at the clock right above a classroom next to her. Y/N has two minutes.

A raspy voice asks, "Do you need help?" Y/N whips her head to the right in surprise. Fluffy platinum hair reflects the fluorescent school lights hanging from above. The corners of his light blue eyes crinkle in a laugh, as Johnny finds Y/N’s distress hilarious. “Oh, shut up.” Y/N scoffs, frustrated with combination of her lock and the clock quickly running her out of time. 

“Say less.” Johnny ushers Y/N out of the way and pulls down on the stuck lock. The shiny metal unlatches with a snap. The boy grins, proud of his accomplishment. “Wow, you’re better than any janitor!” Y/N faux swoons, receiving a snort from her friend. She faces the locker and swings open its thin metal door. A white piece of paper floats down onto the beige tiling. Muttering a ‘What the..’, Y/N leans down to grab the note. Johnny notices this occurrence, becoming intrigued. “Is it a secret admirer?”

Opening the folded material, the letter is a page long. Y/N wouldn’t have enough time to read it now. She folds up the paper while grabbing her math supplies. Shoving two Anatomy books into her unorganized shelf, she slams her locker shut. “I gotta get to class, I’ll let you know what it’s about,” Johnny goes to protest, stating she has plenty of time. “See ya!” Y/N shouts over her shoulder, running to her Geometry class, leaving the tall boy behind. 

As soon as Y/N is inside the math class’ doorway, the bell rings. Sighing in relief, Y/N made it! The teacher looks over in disapproval, always expecting her students to be early and ready to learn. Ignoring the glare, Y/N bounces over to her seat, getting a few laughs from her classmates. Elated, and also flattered from a potential love interest, she giggles. Dutch, an aggressive blonde, elbows his desk neighbor. His bushy eyebrows furrow as he tries to keep his voice down. “Don’t tell me Johnny gave you my stash.” 

Jimmy grabs a hold of the broken lock at Y/N’s locker. “What’s this?” His tanned hands cradle the metal as he's kneeled on the ground. “Let’s just say I saved the day, Jim,” Johnny gloats, puffing out his chest. A familiar cocky smirk plays on the boy’s face while everyone rolls their eyes. Y/N lightly shoves the teenager, barely budging from his heroic stance. Bobby and Tommy smile playfully at their group of friends. “Let’s get some lunch.”

Cobra Kai saunters into the loud cafeteria. The typical cliques are in their usual spots. The Cheerleaders and Jocks in the center, the Goths in a corner near a large bulletin, the Nerds by the lunch line, and Cobra Kai next to the water fountains. Now don’t get the group wrong, they’re still studs even if they don’t mingle with the Jocks. Tommy just had to get one swing at the football team’s quarterback. 

Johnny leads them to the lunch line, reaching forward to snatch a plastic tray for himself. Y/N grabs one along with a shiny spoon and fork. The smell of pizza meets Y/N’s nose. Her stomach grumbles, a hunger rippling through her. “Pizza or salad?” The lunch man grumbles, he'd rather be doing anything else than serving food to rude high schoolers. “Uh, pizza, please.” Y/N requests, waiting for the oven-hot rectangular flatbread to slide onto her tray. And it does, nearly staining the fabric of her white shirt. 

Moving her tray to the end of the line, Y/N takes a cup of mandarin oranges and sets it down on her tray. She starts to walk to her seat while her friends pass by her on both sides. The white and gray tiles stick to her shoes as God knows what's been on the floor. Placing down her food, she opens her water bottle she snagged from her locker. The Cobras talk among themselves, laughing about a prank they pulled. Y/N twists her left wrist to open the blue bottle cap. She leans back and begins to take a sip. Cool water hits her parched mouth.

"Y/N, why don't you show us what you found in your locker today?" Johnny questions, more demanding than suggestive. She nearly chokes on her water in excitement. Placing the plastic cap back on, she sets the bottle back down onto the red table. "Sure thing." Y/N reaches her index and middle fingers into her front jean pocket. Her eyes flick up to watch her friend's reactions.

Johnny's eyes glow in anticipation, seemingly more blue then before. Bobby nods her on, his long wispy hair framing his olive complexion. Jimmy leans on Dutch, who could care less, while a small smile is in the making. Tommy fixates on his food, sawing off his pizza with a metal knife. The utensil shines as it reflects the school’s overhead lights. He seems off, really off. Squinting, Y/N makes out a slight hue of pink on the loudmouth's cheeks. He's blushing?

"Are you gonna let us see?" Dutch quips, impatient as ever. Finally pulling out the folded paper, it crinkles as Y/N smoothes it out with her palm. Clearing her throat, she begins to read the letter aloud. "'Dear Y/N, I hope I don't come across as a stalker when I write this. Here goes nothing: You may be surprised when you figure out the person behind this handwriting, maybe even shocked. But let me just say that you are the only person that makes me feel like doing a roundhouse kick to the moon and back'," Tommy laughs, saying how bad ass the scenario sounds. This earns a shove from Bobby to quiet him down.

Y/N continues, "'Yes, I'm that thrilled about you. I guess your smile adds to the feeling. No, I think it's your laugh. I remember when we were at the same showing for a movie and hearing your giggle. What I would do to hear it again! Signing off, Hendrix.'" Silence carries through the group, letting the love letter sink into their minds. Bobby breaks the quietness. "What do they mean by 'Hendrix'?" His forehead creases in thought. "I think it's code." Jimmy pipes, the only Cobra with a decent GPA.

"Well, Jimi Hendrix was a rock artist." Tommy suggests, after being quiet for so long. "Right, but who listens to him anymore? I only have cassettes of Boston and Motley Crue." Johnny's hand comes up to comb through his floppy hair. His mouth full of pizza, Dutch grumbles, "MJ is all the rage now." He imitates Michael Jackson, singing an off key 'Billie Jean'. "Okay, I think we get it," Y/N laughs, as an idea pops into her head. "Does anyone have the last name 'Hendrix' in our school?"

In the library for study hall, Jimmy and Bobby help Y/N flip through yearbooks. A stack of them lay off to the right of the wooden table's edge, about to crash to ground. Her eyes scan the names of people, as her eyes become tired from staring. She closes the book's black cover from 1982, giving up. "I found him!" Jimmy exclaims, as Bobby and Y/N crane their necks to see. The librarian hushes the teenagers, adjusting her glasses that sat on her nose. The fuzzy black and white picture showed an attractive Matthew Hendrix. The glossy page reflected dark hair and a white smile.

"I know this kid! He's by my locker." Y/N pieces together, the puzzle falling into place. Bobby glances up at her yearbook in her hands. "Is he in our grade?" He asks. The teenager doesn't want a guy older than the Cobras, he'll just mess around with them. "No Hendrix is in our grade, he does football." At the mention of the ill-fated sport, Jimmy quickly inquires, "Wait, it's not the guy Tommy punched, right?" Y/N shook her head in confusion. Everyone was either too drunk or high to remember who was in the party's fight.

The next day's events were rather quite interesting. Y/N got another letter from this 'Hendrix'. She opened the note hurriedly. It would be embarrassing for her if any of her friends found out. This second paper gave more details about how much they liked Y/N, but they also gave a reference she picked up on. It mentioned going to a summer camp in '83. Y/N went with the Cobra Kais, but other guys tagged along too.

So far, none of her friends had waltzed up to her, pressing more about the topic. Dutch definitely wouldn't, he scoffs at the slightest mention of romance. It's a wonder that he even dated, let alone lost his virginity. Johnny and Tommy have been far too quiet about these occurrences. Jimmy and Bobby have been the only ones willing to help Y/N find more about this secret lover.

The note only fueled a desire for Y/N to ask Matthew if he was writing her letters. She waits, leaning on her locker, awaiting the moment the said boy would roll around. The beginning of the school hours always dragged slow, as if in mud. Y/N hopes this event would bring her some newfound excitement. The first bell rang, signaling to students they had five minutes till class. A breeze blew on her shoulders as a tall figure slowed down their pace. Matthew slung a dark bag over his right bicep, shoving it into his locker.

"Hey, Matthew, is it?" Y/N's voice inquires, raising in pitch with giddiness. The teenager’s brown hazel eyes sweep over her figure, deciding if he should pick up the conversation. With a light sigh, Matthew nods his head. “Yeah, whatcha want?” Y/N holds up the notes that were slipped into her locker from the past two days. “Have you been writing these to me?” She extends the papers for Matthew to take. A look of curiosity takes over the boy as he accepts the letters. His eyes move back and forth as he scanned the writings. 

“I didn’t write these,” Y/N’s heart sank as this encounter did not go as planned. “But the handwriting looks familiar.” Matthew swears he saw this specific printing before, maybe written on his car in red spray paint? Reliving the memory, the red warning scribbled out a ‘NO MERCY’ on his beloved Dodge Turbo’s side. The faraway look in Matthew’s eyes causes Y/N to wave her hand in front of his line of vision. Coming back to his senses, Matthew shakes his head in disbelief. 

“Here are your papers.” Matthew presses the letters back to Y/N. She's positive that she nibbled onto the bait of this fishhook. She goes to ask him more questions, but he slammed his locker abruptly. Grumbling something about getting payback, Matthew heads down the hallway, turning the corner. He deserts Y/N, who's left with more questions than answers. 

For the next few days, each note gave more and more hints about the writer. So far, with the help of Jimmy and Bobby, she figured out that they like soccer and enjoy running on the beach. It’s not a grand discovery, but Jimmy assured her that every clue counted. Besides, the final note would be delivered today. Y/N is thrilled, she hopes the anonymous lover would reveal who they are. 

The Cobra Kai boys have been drifting in and out the letter drama, scrapping up details here and there. She walks into the lunch line by herself, as she chooses a salad today. Y/N decides to walk alone, she's packed with a lot of tests and doesn't have time to wait for the others. “Heya, Y/N.” Johnny greets, changing out his cassette tape in his Walkman. Tommy’s bruised hand covers one of the cassettes nearest to him, its taped title unable to be seen. 

“What’re you doing?” Y/N asks, as the boy seems to be moving the tape closer to himself. Caught in the act, Tommy stops moving the cassette. He lifts his head to meet his friend’s eyes. A nasty shiner around his right eye stands out against his smooth skin. The boy mentioned he fell down a flight of stairs at a party and tried to catch himself. Hence his purple knuckles. 

“Oh, I was just helping Johnny change out his Walkman.” Tommy comes up with, flipping the cassette so it was standing upright, the tape side away from Y/N. Her narrowed eyes dart between Johnny, who fakes a shit eating smile, and Tommy, who doesn't dare move until Y/N lets go of the subject. She sits down, letting the topic dissipate on its own. Her brain's tired enough as is. 

“Do you have the final note?” Bobby leans in, his long hair tickling Y/N’s cheek as he questions her. Y/N reaches into her trapper keeper, laying the letter between her and Bobby, reading silently. ‘Meet me at the beach after school, around eight. Bring your swimsuit!’ She almost jumped out of her seat at the butterflies overtaking her stomach. Bobby pats the back of Y/N, lightly laughing. “Well, there you have it. You’ll meet them after all!” 

The purr of the Firebird rumbles Y/N’s passenger side seat. The smell of the seawater fills her nose with her window cracked open. Johnny’s bright headlights gives way that they're traveling down the dark road. The whistle of the wind and the thumping of REO Speedwagon hum her ears. It's surprising that she didn’t bribe Johnny to take her, he usually would grumble about it for a while. This time he acted almost glad to take Y/N. 

Johnny pulls the car forward and parks it in the beach’s parking lot. She scans her surroundings ahead of her through the glass. The silhouette of a figure is down in the sand, facing the waves. “I think that’s my person. Thanks, Johnny.” Y/N unbuckles her seatbelt, ready to open the door and greet her writer. A tan arm swung out in front of her, holding a piece of paper. This stops her from continuing her motions. “What’s this?” Grabbing the note, she opens it. 

The infamous handwriting is there but another one is visible. A more hurried, scratchy one. ‘You weren’t expecting another letter? Calm your tits, it’s just a note from your letter carrier: Make sure kick ass when you meet ‘Hendrix’. He’s really an amazing dude.’ Johnny laughs, slapping his large hands together in amusement. Y/N mouth drops, the charade coming to a close in front of her eyes. 

“Wait, so you were the one dropping off the letters in my locker?” Y/N asked, her eyes shining in amusement. Johnny nods frantically, his hair reflecting the moonlight coming in on the dashboard. “Hey, it wasn’t hard to put superglue on the lock. It was pretty sick!” Laughing, she opens the car door, leaving the paper on her seat. “You jerk!” Y/N slams the door shut, leaving an emphasis on her words. 

The grainy white sand slows her walking as she approaches the figure. “Hello?” She calls, anticipating rising. Everything has came to this moment, it better be worth it. Brunette hair gently moves in the breeze, as goosebumps rise on her arms. No answer is given. The person’s ears are covered by a certain black foam, connected with wire. Sighing, she nears even closer. 

As if expecting the visitor, or listening intensely, an index finger presses pause on their Walkman. Turning their head, Y/N’s eyes widen and she covers her mouth in surprise. A set of brown eyes watch her reaction while they remove their Walkman, setting it down on their blue towel. A smile forms the longer the person watches Y/N. “It’s me.” The voice was bubbly and unapologetically loud. 

“Tommy? Oh my god.” Y/N’s face pales as she sets herself down next to the writer. The male leans over to the left and makes a show of taking out his cassette tape. ‘Jimi Hendrix- Electric Ladyland’ is written on the brown Scotch tape. “I’m ‘Hendrix’, Y/N.” She blushes, her face turning a shade of pink. “I figured that out by now, doofus.” Tommy quietly laughs, turning towards her. Silence commences.

Y/N’s heartbeat bangs loudly against her ribcage as she leans in. She pauses, just short of kissing him. Y/N wants to make sure he is okay with going further. Fortunately, hesitation is not in Tommy’s vocabulary. Her eyes close once she feels his lips on her own. His warm hand cusps her face, gently stroking his thumb on her cheek. His abs contract as he rests his back on his towel, his left arm propping up his head.

She lays to left of him, her face creating contact with his. Her hair falls over to the side, moving slightly with the ocean wind. Tommy’s hand rests on the small of Y/N’s back, as the warmth of his body pulls her in further. Running her hands through his hair, she gently pulls. A small groan is released from Tommy throat, rumbling Y/N’s chest. An innocent gesture but not so innocent reaction. 

Tommy smiles warmly when the kisses end, fireworks going off in his stomach. Y/N pulls herself up and sits facing the black waves, turning shy with the shared intimate moment. “Come on, let’s go for a swim.” Tommy proposes, rising to his feet and pulling off his gray sweatshirt. His toned stomach pales in moonlight, his crucifix necklace dangling down over his chest. His orange swim trunks are loosely draped over his prominent hip bones. 

“Like what you see?” Tommy teases, flexing his biceps. “As if, loverboy.” Y/N retorts with faux annoyance. She grips the bottom hem of her black top as she reveals her swimsuit, shedding her pants. It’s now Tommy’s turn to gawk. He stands like a little kid, with his hands relaxed at his side, his jaw slack. Y/N takes this as an opportunity to rush into the waves, splashing Tommy with the lukewarm water. 

“Hey! Come here!” Y/N giggles as he rushes over to lift her up off the ground. He spins her around once, laughing. Her eyes widen in thrill as he lifts her up even higher, getting ready to toss her into the water. Her legs kick in excitement as she grips onto his shoulders. “Ah, Tommy!” She giggles, not wanting him to let go of her. Her eyes lock with his own once again. 

Her laughter fades as they gaze at each other. Tommy’s adam apple bobs when he swallows thickly. He’s nervous. She feels herself being let down by the taller. Y/N stands now confused by the change in mood. “Y/N,” Tommy calls, more declarative than interrogative. “Can you be mine?” The water around her ankles feel colder than before. 

She nods, gradually getting faster with her confidence. “Yes, yes, yes,” Wrapping her hands around Tommy’s waist she pulls him in for a quick peck. “A thousand times yes.” She turns to exit the water and put her clothes back on. Her boyfriend follows, now noticing the Firebird that’s been there for over an hour. “Are you kidding me? Johnny’s here?” He whines, falling to his knees, his fists pounding the soft sand. 

Y/N giggles, amused by his dramatic ways. “Hey, let’s get some fries downtown? Johnny can take us.” Tommy gets up off the ground, grabbing his towel and Walkman. “Fine, it’s a deal. Race you to the car!” 

[jobrookekarev]

Interruptions Be Damned

Chapter: 1 of 5ish, but probably more?

Words: 3254

Summary: All the times Alex and Jo got caught having sex and the one time they didn’t. Or Jo and Alex are very horny at the hospital, much to the dismay of their co-workers.

Chapter Summary: Meredith interrupts their time together in the conference room and demands that Alex scrub in on a surgery with her.

Fandom: Grey’s Anatomy

Relationship: Alex Karev/Jo Wilson.

Characters: Jo Wilson, Alex Karev, Meredith Grey.

Rating: Explicit.  

Additional Tags: Not for the Kids! Lemons, Sexy Times, Conference Room Sex, (More tags to be added) 

Read at AO3

Read at FFN

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Jo smoothed over the blouse and skirt she was wearing as she watched everybody filter out of the conference room. Jo had worn the skirt and a blouse because she and Meredith were giving a presentation for their mini liver research that was now in trial phases. She had seen Alex's eyes on her that morning as she got dressed and the way he followed her around the loft. His eager hand grabbed at the edge of her skirt before she pushed him away, with a promise of letting him have her later. 

However, Jo hadn't worn the skirt just because of the presentation. Koracick was doing the rehiring interviews from the Pac North merger today. Alex had been dreading it as it meant his role as chief came to an end so Jo thought she'd cheer him up afterwards. 

“Hello, Dr. Karev,” Koracick easily smiled at her as he passed.

She didn't know why Tom liked her when he disliked so many of her colleagues, but he was kind to her so she easily smiled back. She slipped into the conference room and Alex was thankfully alone. Jo shut the door behind her but lingered by the door looking over at him.

“Hey,” Jo said softly as she tilted her head and scrunched up her eyebrows as she looked at him.

Her simple hello caught his attention from where he was staring at the wall deep in thought. He looked over at her and let out a sigh before his eyes softened.

Alex gave her a small smile before he reached out for her. “Come here.”

Jo didn't hesitate to walk over and sit in Alex's lap. She wrapped her arms around his neck as he pressed his forehead against hers and leaned in for a quick kiss. 

“So how did it go?”

“Well I get to be the co-head of pediatrics with Hayes, and Bailey offered to let me take over for her as chief on days when she needs a break or a vacation.”

“That's good,” Jo said, tilting her head but still noticing the sadness in his eyes.

“Yeah, I’ll get to see you more often too, that’s good,” Alex said, with a nod and a small smile. 

“But?” Jo said, noting the sad look still on his face and how his smile quickly disappeared. 

“But I'll miss it. I really felt like I was doing something important over at Pac North. I was making things better, making a real change, and coming back to Grey-Sloan ends all that and I just feel like a failure.”

Jo sat up and shifted so she was straddling his lap and held his face so he would look at her. “You are not a failure. It's not your fault that Catherine Fox bought the hospital and shut it down. It was just a weird fight between her and Webber. It does not reflect on you. You didn't fail, Alex. You took that hospital from being ranked last in the county and you turned it into a real place of medicine where people could go and receive quality treatment that you provided. You handled crisis, after crisis and I have never been more proud of you.”

As she spoke, Alex's frown disappeared and he began to smile as he looked at her, before he leaned in and properly kissed her again.

“Thank you,” Alex whispered against her lips before kissing her again.

Jo just smiled into their kiss and wrapped her arms around his neck. It didn't take long for things to get heated and Alex’s hands trailed up the inside of her skirt. 

“No panties,” Alex asked, pulling back with a smirk as he moved his hands to her inner thighs.

“I thought you could use a little pick-me-up,” Jo smirked back as she moved her hips against him creating friction between them.

Alex hummed as he leaned in to kiss her again. “You always know how to cheer a guy up.”

Jo giggled as she sat up to give him more access as her own fingers trailed down his chest. His hands moved back to her hips and pulled her forward. It was a bit of an awkward position in the chair, but neither of them moved. She smiled against him, feeling his erection pressed through his pants and up against her bare slit. She knew she was probably getting the front of his pants wet, but he didn’t seem to care. She made quick work of opening his shirt just to feel his bare skin under her palms for a moment before her fingers trail down to his pants 

Jo moved her head back to undo his zipper and pull his cock out of his boxers. She trailed her fingers up his length and gave his cock a few pumps with her hands before she moved her hips over him. She held the head of his cock and moved it between her slit, collecting her wetness over the head before she lined him up with the entrance to her pussy. 

Alex was a mess under her, moaning and groaning as if he was about to cum. He was completely at her mercy as she slowly sank down onto him. Then it was her turn to moan. As soon as he was completely inside her and their hips were flush against each other, Jo took a moment to enjoy the fullness of him inside her. She felt him all the way up against her cervix. She felt so wonderfully full of Alex as she threw her head back and let out a small moan despite the fact that they were in the middle of the hospital.

Alex pulled her back in for a kiss and rolled his hips up to gain some friction between them despite her weight on top of him. Jo smiled as she rolled her hips before slowly moving up. She started out slowly going up and down on top of him. Alex withered underneath her completely lost in the pleasure she gave him. Jo loved knowing that he was completely at her mercy even though his fingertips dug into her hips and he could easily pull her back down and bounce her on his lap. She decided to have a little fun with him and slowly went up and then down, keeping the slow pace for a little while longer.

“Oh dear God Jo,” Alex whispered before he let out a whimper as she went back down, taking him fully inside her

She felt their hips meet again and sat back to look at him. Jo took in the sight of her husband, so worked up even though she was barely moving on top of him. 

“You like that Alex?” Jo asked already knowing the answer as Alex only moaned before she started to bounce. It was only for a few seconds before she stopped and sat in his lap. 

The entire time his eyes have closed, but they flew open when she stopped bouncing. She giggled and gave another roll of her hips as Alex stared at her lips and gave a low groan. There wasn’t much pleasure in it for her, but the way he moaned made her want to keep it up until he cums inside of her. She put her hands back on his neck and pulled him in to kiss her as she slowly went up and down again. 

Just as she was about to go back up, the door to the conference room opened and Meredith walked in. They both froze and stared, wide eyed as they watched her slam the door behind her.

“Alex, thank God you're back, Hayes is absolutely crazy.” Meredith started off as she waved her hands around and continued ranting about Hayes, completely oblivious to their position and how he was buried inside of her. 

“Now's not really a good time Mer,” Jo said, she could still feel him twitch inside of her as Alex hid his head in her shoulder.

“I need you to steal this case and scrub in with me,” Meredith continued as she paced, completely ignoring her. “I can’t listen to Hayes being all smug and going on about how his approach is the right one.” 

Jo knew that there was nothing she could say to make Meredith go away. Although she hadn't interrupted their intimacy in a long time, Meredith would still crawl in their bed in the middle of the night. These days Meredith didn't kick her out and would occasionally continue to complain to Jo when Alex fell asleep or was unavailable. Over the years she had come to accept Meredith and Alex’s codependent friendship as they now included her, but there were times when she put her foot down.

Jo pulled Alex's head back from where he was hiding in her and leaned in to whisper in his ear. “Make her go away, or I won’t let you cum.”

“Okay Mer, I'll do whatever you want to give us a minute,” Alex said, still digging his fingers into Jo’s hips and trying to hold back.

“Look Alex, you can be all sad and mopey and have Jo comfort you later. I need you right now,” Meredith insisted, pausing from where she was pacing back and forth. 

They had been walked in on by Meredith enough times that Jo could sit there for as long as she needed to. She sighed and involuntarily squeezed her cunt around Alex’s cock. He twitched inside of her before he groaned and closed his eyes. 

“Mere please,” Alex begged and Jo squeezed Alex again, just to tease him. 

“No, I need you Alex. You're supposed to be my person and you said I couldn't just pop over whenever I wanted to at home, but this is my hospital and I need to steal you back just for a few hours.”

“Fine by me, I think my legs are cramping up anyway,” Jo said, her knees are aching from their position and she shifted in his lap. 

Alex looked over at her and Jo just raised her eyebrows and squeezed him again, giving him a little incentive. She moved her hips back to pull him out just a few inches but Alex grabbed her hips and pulled her back down. 

“Mar get out now!”

Meredith paused as she finally looked between the two of them. Jo knew that her position on Alex’s lap, with their hips flush against each other and her skirt riding up, were all clear evidence of their intimate activities. To be honest, she was surprised that Meredith didn't figure it out sooner. Especially with the way Alex had been withering in her lap. Meredith finally caught on and smirked before she laughed. 

“Okay, Karev,” Meredith said, clearly addressing Jo. “Just be done before 4. I want Alex to meet the patient and go over the case with me before surgery.”

“Oh I'm sure he’ll be done by then,” Jo said, smirking at Alex before she squeezed him again and Alex turned a lovely shade of red as he buried his head in her shoulder again. 

They exchanged a look before they both laughed. Meredith turned to leave and was sure to lock the door behind her. The second she slammed the door shut, Jo rolled her hips again, but Alex had other plans. He picked her up and set her on the conference table. 

“I love it when you tease me, but I really need to cum inside of you,” Alex said, absolutely desperate for her as he thrust back into her. 

“Okay,” Jo quickly agreed with a nod as his hands pushed her skirt up and Jo kicked off her heels.

She put her feet on the table as well and sat back, holding herself up with her hands. As they settled on the table, he leaned in and kissed her. Alex hadn't left her for a second and he put one hand on the table and the other around her waist pulling her into him. Jo knew that she was absolutely about to be wrecked as Alex quickly slammed into her. He thrust deep inside of her, hitting her cervix as Jo held back a cry.

She quickly recaptured his lips again as they both moaned into each other’s mouths. Alex set a quick pace, drumming in and out of her, going as fast as he could. His pace sent her wild, as nothing felt better than having Alex thrust in and out of her, rubbing right up against her G-spot and hitting her cervix every time. Every time he did this to her, she went out of her mind with pleasure and she easily got just as worked up as he was. They both chased their release and Alex moved his hands from holding her back to reach in between them to rub her clit. 

Before she could get lost in her own pleasure, Jo gave Alex a singling to roll over and switch their positions. She wanted to be on top as she wanted to do the work and make Alex feel good. They easily rolled over and Alex laid back on the conference table as Jo sat on top of him. She put her hands on his chest as she started to bounce and smiled as she watched him throw his head back and arch up into her.

He seemed to get lost in her movements for a moment before his fingers resumed their circles on her clit. Jo moaned and faltered in her movements before she started back up again. Alex smiled up at her, it was a little lazy and soft as she easily smiled back and leaned down to kiss him. It didn't take long for the familiar coil of her orgasm to tighten up inside of her. She didn't know how Alex had held off for this long. He usually held out for her, but she wanted him to go first for a change so she squeezed him again. 

“You going to cum for me?” Jo asked as she reached up with one hand to hold his cheek and ran her fingers over the little hairs of his goatee and short beard.

All Alex could do was moan as his hand faltered for a second. She knew it wouldn’t be long before Alex was coming and increased her pace and squeezed him hard with an extra roll of her hips.

“I'm coming,” Alex cried out and pulled her in as they crashed their lips together as he kissed her.

His hand stilled as he came and she paused as she sunk down, but continued to clench around him. She could feel him twitch inside of her as he continued to moan and groaning against her lips. She worked him through it until he relaxed and pulled back. 

They took a second to breathe after he came. Alex stared at her and had a lazy smile across his lips. Jo lifted off of him as he went soft inside her and despite how she was still worked up she laid down next to him. The table was hard and uncomfortable, but she curled up against him and laid her head on his chest. She clenched up and pressed her legs together, trying to keep his cum inside of her, lest they have a huge mess to clean up. 

Alex of course never left her unsatisfied and rolled over to kiss her before his lips trailed down her neck. His fingers moved up her leg as she parted her knees and he dipped his fingers in between her folds. He thrust in and out with three fingers. It was enough to fill her, and he made sure to rub her g-spot. He also moved his other hand to rub her clit and really satisfy her.

With his talented fingers on her clit Jo was coming faster than she imagined. Jo let out a cry of his name that he quickly quieted with his lips against hers. Her legs shook and her back arched as she pushed her hips into his hands. Her orgasm was over too quickly and Jo lied back as her legs dangled off the table. Alex rested his head against her shoulder and pulled his fingers away from her sensitive clit and pulsating pussy.

They both caught their breath and stared up at the ceiling of the conference room. Usually, they would cuddle up against each other, but sometimes they would just lay there in the soft afterglow as they came back down. Eventually, they both move to sit up and get off of the hard table. Alex tucked himself away although he’s still soaked in their fluids and she can feel it on her thighs. 

Jo looked around for anything to help clean up their mess. There was coffee and snacks set up on the other table along with napkins and hand sanitizer. It wasn’t soap and water, but it was the best they had. Alex was slow to get up so Jo moved to stand but her legs were still shaky. He wrapped his hand around her waist and pulled her back to sit on the table as he got up instead. He handed her a few napkins to wipe herself off as he tucked himself back into his pants and cleaned off his hands. Her legs finally took her weight after she cleaned herself up and she pulled down her skirt from where it was bunched up at her waist. He squirted a generous amount of hand sanitizer on the table and Jo helped him wipe it down. 

Once the cleanup was done and everything had been thoroughly sanitized, Jo looked back to where Alex was standing and staring at her. 

“Did that make you feel better?” Jo asked as she smiled back at him. 

“I love you,” Alex said, letting out a breath as he smiled wider.

It wasn't a real reply, but Jo loved it all the same. Especially the way Alex looked at her with that smile. He looked so happy and he smiled in the way he did after a long day at work. It was a happy, yet tired smile that was a little lopsided, yet full of love and adoration. He usually reserved that smile just for her and it made her heart flutter in her chest.

“I love you too,” Jo said, going over to give him a quick kiss before she pulled back and smacked his ass. “Now go help Meredith with her surgery so she doesn't interrupt us again tonight.”

“Again tonight?” Alex said with a smirk. 

He pulled her back in and kissed her again as he trailed his fingers down her sides. Jo knew him and she knew that if she let him, Alex would get her worked up again for round two. However, neither of them have time for that and Meredith would certainly interrupt them again and she wouldn't let them finish.

“If you wait till tonight, I’ll wear something nice for you,” Jo said with a smirk as she put a hand on his chest and took a step back. 

“Did I ever tell you that you are a very good wife,” Alex said, reaching for her again.

Jo just shook her head and turned around to open the door. Yet, she turned to glance back at him, his eyes were glued to her ass and she swayed her hips as she walked away. 

[abraxos-is-toothless]

Surprises (17)

Ah this was meant to up yesterday but then I got a little sidetracked when I came home from work. I am very sorry:((

We’ve got just a little bit of violence in this one because, it was needed, you’ll see. This happens to be a favourite of mine so I hope you enjoy<3

Surprises Masterlist.

Full Masterlist.

No gif because I’m useless and I can’t find the one I wanted. Oops.

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Elain did not want to be at school, she wanted to be at home with Azriel, in bed. Preferably naked. But she was stuck here in her stupid fucking English Lit class where she was absorbing literally no information. He was perfectly fine at home she knew, his mother was there with him, but that didn’t stop her leg from bouncing nervously.

When they were finally let out, she ignored all of the curious glances she received walking out of the room. Her bump was bigger but she was wearing Az’s hoodie so no one could actually see that it had and she tried not to let her hand hold it, something she had taken to doing quite a lot recently. As she walked through the cafeteria and to their usual table, where Cass, Rhys and Lucien were already sat, more people kept looking at her oddly. Some were just curious like the ones from her class, some gave her a quick and disgusted once over and others, they just looked before turning back to their friends and giggling. Elain had to clench her hands into fists so as not to wrap her arms around herself. She would not show them how they affected her; she would not look weak in their eyes. Sitting next to Cass when she finally got to the boys, more people started openly staring at their table, and she watched as Rhys’ brows furrowed and asked with blatant confusion, “And why the fuck is every moron in this school staring at us?”

Lucien laughed from opposite her, “We aren’t that special. It’s probably you and your new scar. You are now even uglier than before.” He winked at Rhys, causing the other boy to let out a gasp and put his hand to his chest.

“Vanserra, how could you? I thought you loved me?!” He put his face in his hands and started to very obnoxiously fake cry. It was at that moment that Feyre and Nesta arrived, the former raising a brow at her boyfriend’s antics as she sat down.

“Why are you being such a drama queen, Rhysand?” Rhys threw himself at Feyre in an instant, burying his face into her neck as he gasped out between more fake sobs;

“B-babe, Lucy d-doesn’t love me any-anymore.”

Elain’s sister only rolled her eyes whilst patting his back, causing Elain to giggle, which stopped as soon as it started when a voice rang out through the cafeteria. A voice she really didn’t want to fucking deal with right now.

“Well would you look at this. Velaris High’s new ‘mommy to be’ finally decided to show her face.” They all turned to see Ianthe standing there with a hand on her hips; a smirking Tamlin at her back. Fucking bastard. Elain was frozen and she felt as though she couldn’t breathe. How the fuck could that stuck up bitch know that she was pregnant? Cassian had his good arm tightly wrapped around Nesta’s waist, stopping her from getting up but he was also wincing at the way she dug her nails in. Lucien and Rhys were glaring at Tamlin and Feyre was silently seething.

Cassian tipped his head to stare at the ceiling as he groaned, “Please, please just fuck off, Ianthe. No one is in the mood for your stupid bullshit today.”

“But I’m just so curious. I was at the hospital just visiting one day, when I overheard a conversation. And then Nesta came storming out of the room. I waited for a little bit after and Tamlin’s dearest Feyre came out too. So, how did our little freak manage to get someone to even look at her, let alone put a baby in her?”

Feyre snarled from where she sat, vibrating with anger, “I am not his anything. Call my sister a freak again Ianthe, and you won’t like the consequences.”

Elain wanted to be anywhere else than here. She wanted to be at home, with Az and forget this day ever happened. Ianthe laughed, something like a hyena, and gods it was the worst sound.

“But she is a freak. A freak with a bastard baby and even better, a cripple for a baby daddy. Yeah, we heard about dear Azzie. Such a shame, he really was a looker before.” She was smirking by the end and Elain felt anger rising from the pit of her stomach. Before she knew it, she was on her feet and there was pain coursing through her hand and wrist. She shook out her fist, cursing, and looked up to see Ianthe with a hand over her nose, blood leaking through her fingers. She was also screaming.

“You fucking bitch! You broke my gods damned nose!”

Cassian had let go of Nesta who was also now on her feet, and proceeded to bang Ianthe’s head against a chair. The screeching stopped but people throughout the cafeteria were now cheering and chanting. Cassian whistled lowly, eyes dark as he watched his girlfriend. “Sweetheart, what have I told you about turning me on in public places?” Nesta simply flipped him off, making him chuckle.

Tamlin was looking between them and an unconscious Ianthe lying on the floor, opening his mouth to say something before the principal walked in. “What on earth is going on in here?” He looked at the group of them, sending someone to get the nurse when he saw Ianthe, and narrowed his eyes at Elain. She was still shaking out her slightly throbbing fist. “My office, right now.” Turning on the spot, he gestured with a hand for her to move forward, following behind her as she did as she was told. There were faint murmurings of Rhys saying, “Who knew Lain had such fire?” as she walked away. It was only then that she allowed her hand to drop, curving her hand around her steadily growing stomach, hand rubbing against the side. Her brows furrowed when it felt like something was tickling her and pressed her hand down a little harder. She gasped when it happened again, eyes widening as a shocked smile spread across her face.

Her little girl was moving.

Elain dragged her hand downwards and her girl followed. It took everything she had to not let herself cry with joy. Her girl made her presence known right when Elain needed her most.

Mama is here baby girl. I’ve got you, my littlest one.

She held her head high and back straight as she walked into the principal’s office, proud of herself. She had defended herself, the man that she loved and that wonderful little miracle they’d created together. She had defended her family.

Just as she always would.

oOoOo

Azriel peered up over his book from where he was sitting on the sofa, watching as his family walked through the front door of the house, all of them laughing loudly. Cass and Rhys both had an arm each looped through one of Elain’s as she giggled at them. Feyre and Nesta came through just behind them, both smiling wide as they watched the trio in front of them. Cassian let go of her to flop down next to him and Rhys twirled Elain before bringing her close, singing a random song off tune as he danced with her. Azriel felt a small twinge of jealousy at the sight, but it was overpowered by the happiness he felt as he watched her. This was the brightest she’d been in almost a week and his heart soared.

His brother nudged him with an elbow, his whole body twitching with how giddy he was. “Oh dearest brother, you would never guess what kind of day we’ve had.”

“No I can’t, but I’m assuming it was a good one?” He didn’t take his eyes off of his girlfriend, who seemed to be glowing with all of the excitement. He wanted nothing more than to get up and take her into his own arms, he ached to do so. He pushed it down and finally tore his eyes away, meeting hazel eyes similar to his own.

“Ianthe knows about the baby.” Azriel’s eyes went wide at that before abruptly spun back to Elain, but she didn’t seem bothered by it, didn’t look like she cared one bit.

“How the hell could she possibly fucking know? You can’t even see Elain’s bump when she’s wearing baggy clothes.”

Nesta spoke up; returning from where she’d disappeared into the kitchen, bottle of water in one hand and Elain’s vitamins in the other, handing them both off to his girlfriend. “She was at the hospital the day Elain collapsed, lurking around like a creepy loser after I stormed out to come and beat your ass.” There was no heat behind the words and she even winked at him. “She called Elain a freak, the baby a bastard and then you a cripple.” His heart dropped into the pit of his stomach at that. He couldn’t give two fucks about what people thought of him, but that was his girl and his baby. The anger inside of him had clearly transformed the look on his face because Rhys nodded at the sight.

“That was your girl’s thoughts exactly because the next thing we knew, Elain was out of her seat and punching Ianthe square in the nose.” Pride over took him then at the image it provided him. His beautiful Ellie all fired up. As he looked at her he could see the pride she too felt about herself, but her lips were also formed into a shy smile. His girlfriend was not violent, never had been. She was kind, loving and so amazingly sweet; it was part of the reason he’d fallen in love with her. The opposite of him but she also matched him perfectly.

“That’s my girl.” He breathed the words with such awe, watching the way Elain flushed at the praise, from her cheeks, down her neck and then it disappeared, hidden by the clothes she was wearing. Azriel didn’t need to see though, he knew exactly what it would look like from their times together. Part of his anatomy stirred at the thought of getting her naked again, making that flush spread all over. Thought of the way she’d gasp and bite her lip when he traced it gently with his fingertips. He shook his head of the thoughts when Elain spoke softly, the first time since they’d all gotten home.

“Could the rest of you give us a minute please?” Both Rhys and Cassian turned to look at him, both of them with matching, shit eating grins on their faces as they wiggled their brows. Feyre and Nesta rolled their eyes at the pair, forcefully dragging their boyfriends’ from the room despite their protests. When they were alone, Elain slowly walked over to stand in front of him where he was sitting, holding her hands out to him. He raised his own and placed them in hers, feeling the way she squeezed gently before her beautiful voice filled the room again. “I know it’s awful of me but before today, sometimes I regretted that night we shared.” His face fell at the confession and he went to pull his hands away, but Elain only gripped his hands tighter.

“Ellie...”

“No, listen. It’s just that, on the bad days since then, I just didn’t feel like me anymore, you know? I felt like I had lost myself, lost the person that I was.” All Azriel could do was nod, not understanding where she was going with this, but he listened anyway. “But then today, today Ianthe happened. She said those things, called us those names and I just sort of lost it. She called our little girl a bastard and so I punched her and fuck, it felt so fucking amazing to do that. I actually felt good.” She deserved to feel good because of that. Ianthe had always been a raging bitch, an attention seeking one at that. It was about time that somebody put her in her place.

A wonderful and breathtaking smile broke out over her face, twisting her hands to bring his own to her stomach, curving them around one spot to the side. “And when I was walking to the principal’s office, I took comfort in holding our baby, just in time to feel that.” At which point, she pushed his hands down a little harder, and he felt something flutter beneath his palm. He was confused for a moment but then it happened again, making shock and astonishment overtake him. Elain took her own hands away, just letting him feel all on his own and cupped his cheek, tilting his head back to look at her.

“Is that what I think it is?” She nodded, laughing quietly and he let every emotion wash over him, tears spilling down his cheeks. They were brushed away by gentle thumbs before letting his head drop so he could press his face to the movements, feeling the little thud, thud, thud, against his cheekbone. Gods it was so fucking surreal, being able to feel the way his little girl moved, making her presence known in the best way she possibly could.

“It was like she was telling me that everything was alright, that she was the one that was there for me, not the other way around. And I knew, I knew then in that moment I could never regret it, could never regret you. I could never regret her. It simply wasn’t possible to do so because I love you both, so terribly much.”

“I love you too, Ellie. You have no idea how fucking much.” He pushed up her clothes, baring her bump to him and he pressed his lips to her warm skin, kissing the little flutters he could feel there. His daughter’s movements sped up as he spoke against skin, pouring his heart out to the girls who meant the world to him.

“And you, my angel, daddy loves you more than words can describe. You are my greatest gift and I promise you, to protect and love you, until the day my heart stops beating. Maybe not even then, sweetheart.”

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Oh my god, I gave you more fluff, who am I?;)) If you want to be added/removed from the tags then just give me a shout!!

Tags: @bryaxisthefaceofnightmares @starlitfangirl @starsauroras @drunken-starz @myfriendscallmeraba  @thesirenwashere @empress-sei @elrielllll  @stars-falling @lacewilde @verifiefangirl  @theshadowsinger-and-thefawn @fancyclodpaintercookie @acourtofterrasenandvelaris @silver-flames @queen-of-glass @bamchickawowow @empress-ofbloodshed @sleeping-and-books @kvi-arts @tswaney17 @awkward-avocado-s @courtofjurdan @junkiejosten10 @mu-si-ca-l @agem10 @harmonyindark245 @slightly-sane-fangirl @tanaquilpriscilla @starrynightsbooks @maastrash @kendarbahr   @elriel4life @illyriangarbage @b00kworm @thewayshedreamed @snowflakesandstarlight

[scentedsongrebel]

What happens in Vegas

Pairings: Steve Rogers × Female! Reader, background BuckyNat

Summary: What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas right? Wrong. And someone really should have told you that.

Warnings: Cursing, mentions of smut but no actual smut, sexual innuendos, Accidental Marriage, Talks of Divorce, Fighting,small  Angst, a lot of Fluff... Please tell me if I miss any.

Word Count: Approx. 9k.... This got a little out of hand.

A/N: So this is my entry for the wonderful @kayteewritessteve‘s #Kaytees1000FollowerChallenge. Congratulations on 1k followers, you totally deserve it! My prompts were: 10. “Kiss me again but like you mean it this time” and 24. “Never trust a man whose smile steals the breath right out of your lungs” The prompts in the story are in bold.

This was gonna be really angsty but halfway through I changed my mind. We all need a little fluff these days. I hope you guys like this one. 

FRIENDS and Grey’s Anatomy fans yes I took some inspirations for some scenes.

MY MASTERLIST

The harsh glare of morning sunlight burns the skin on your arms and face and you groan in frustration. Your head is pounding with explainable pain from the hangover you were sure you have after last night.

The memories of the night itself are hazy and some parts are completely missing. Like how you got to the hotel room is an entire mystery.

Under the pain and burn there is also a comfort and warmth that you haven't felt before and you wanna loose yourself in it completely.

You sigh burying yourself further into the warmth to shield your body from the harsh glare of the morning sun before you realize something and jolt awake.

The arm previously around you falls limp on the bed as you look at the owner of the arm in absolute terror. A huge body and large muscles. A bead of sweat rolls down from the junction where his neck meets his back to further south. His face is squished in the pillow and you can make out a pool of drool under his mouth.

With wide eyes you realize he is naked from the waist up and you are pretty sure its the same from the waist down which is covered by the comforter. Exactly like you are.

His face isn't visible and fear starts to engulf you. Who is he? You just had sex with a stranger. With a look around the room you know it is yours. Which means great, you can't just sneak out. You would have to wake him.

You move your hand towards the man to shake him awake before retracting it back. You are not ready to face whoever this is. So a decision to wash your face and wear something, anything is made and you do just that.

After almost 10 minutes. A cold face wash and wearing your santa claus pajamas- don't want him to think you are intrested in another round or something- later you are still not ready to face this stranger but you have to. You have breakfast with your friends and Steve would be here to collect you any minute. A look at the clock of your phone confirms it.

Ok get on with it Y/N you can do this. Its just a stranger. Okay that is not an encouraging line but you have to wake him. Steve can't see him here.

Oh god what will Steve think of you? would he be able to look at you the same way he does these days if he found out what you just did? Shaking your head you scream at the stranger shaking his shoulders.

"Hey, hey mister wake up. You need to wake up. Dude, wake up"

It takes you a while before he starts to stir and this while you realize the hangover has not just vanished and your head pounds horribly painfully.

Just as the man starts to turn and wake up you run to the bathroom to puke. Emptying the food you do not even remember eating in the toilet seat. You flush and close the lid.

God that felt horrible. Maybe the stranger would get grossed out by this and leave quickly.

As you make your way back to your room. The man is sitting on the bed with his back to you and legs hanging off the bed with both his hands on his side. He lets out a groan as he moves his hand to massage his head before you call out.

"Hey so I don't remember much of last night but-"

He turns around to face you and just as both your eyes meet, you both let out an ear-piercing scream.

Your back hits the wall besides the bathroom door as you look at the man with widened eyes. He has fallen off the bed and is just pushing himself back up with a lot of effort. His knees are bent on the floor and he forces his hands on the bed to pop his face on it.

"Y/N" he whispers in shock and all you can do is look at him with the same amount of shock in return. "W-What happened?"

Your heart is hammering against your chest and you move your hand to your head

"Oh god!" You whisper "oh my dear god" You start moving around the room moving your hands through your hair and messing them up "Oh god oh god oh god"

He looks at you with wide eyes before suddenly realizing his nakedness and pulling the blanket over to cover himself.

"Did we?" He questions standing up and wrapping the blanket around his waist, a look at your panic rambling and he has his answer "Oh my god we did"

You are still chanting your fearful words before he takes hold of your shoulders to stop you.

"Y/N!" He screams at you so that you look at him in the eyes which you do exactly. "Are you okay. I'm so sorry I don't-"

He moves his hand through his hair in frustration, the other hand on his waist.

"I don't remember anything. Bucky forced me to have Thor's mead last night and I don't know maybe I drank more than I should have oh god I'm so sorry Y/N"

You are lost on words as you look at him, opening your mouth to say something but closing it again.

"Do you- do you remember anything about last night?" You question

"No its all very hazy. But I think I do remember a chapel from the wedding but that is all and oh, I definitely had sex"

You raise your eyebrows at him and he scratches the back of his head

"Its there in my memories. Very hazy but its there."

You shake your head "okay so we had drunk sex" he looks down at that, avoiding making eye contact with you, his face completely red.

You look down towards the floor and nod your head "there is a condom wrapper on the floor so we at least used protection"

He looks at the discarded condom wrapper, his face growing redder.

"Oh yeah- yeah okay" he stutters

Looking at the clock you realize you have only 10 mins before you have to meet your friends for breakfast and a sudden confidence embraces you.

"Okay so we get dressed go down for breakfast and pretend this never happened"

This makes him quickly whip his head to look at you "What-"

"Bucky and Natasha just got married, they are both are best friends and I can't just put this in front of them and steel their thunder"

He keeps staring at you, his eyes intense

"We talk about this later" you motion between the two of you

He just stares before nodding, his eyebrows furrowed as he looks around for his clothes.

"Steve-"

"No you are right" he says picking up his shirt from the floor and putting it on "They just got married, we can't put this on them just yet, so you get ready and I will change and see you at the breakfast"

He picks up his under wear and you turn around.

"You won't pick me up from my room?" You ask

"I don't think I should" is all he says before moving from besides you to get to the door.

He opens the door and leaves with a bang as the door closes . Never looking back.

-----------

Putting on a simple ripped jeans and a blue top, hair barely presentable, a little extra makeup to hide the dark circles and hickeys and you are ready.

You sigh as you walk down the corridor that will lead you to the restaurant where you are supposed to have breakfast with your friends. The prospect of having to see Steve making your heart flip faster than it usually does.

You can just see the three old ladies that sieve the strings of faith laughing at your predicament. You used to swoon at the prospect of getting a look at the handsome face and drowning eyes of the captain. Your heart used to flip in a different way when you got a look at his face.

Now the heart flipping is different, more terrifying.

The team sits on the farthest of the tables everyone chatting and eating stuff on their plates. You grab yourself a cup of coffee, not feeling like eating anything else and head to the table.

So lost in thought you don't notice the sudden silence that embraces the table as you make appearance and the questioning glances thrown your way.

You keep looking at your coffee, your mind wandering elsewhere. It is this distraction that causes you to miss the entry of a certain blonde, him sitting on the only empty seat which well was of-course besides you and the ever persistent gazes of your team mates.

You take a sip of your coffee while Steve takes a bite from his scrambled eggs before a voice calls out

"Okay, so are we not gonna address this"

You look at Sam in confusion waiting for someone else to voice it. After a moment of silence Steve sighs

"What?"

Sam looks at him with narrowed eyes, then raising both his hands to motion at Steve and then at you.

Your blood runs cold at that and your eyes widen comically. Sam knows. Sam knows and he told everyone. Oh god. Everyone knows. No no no. Your plan to ignore the situation seems to be failing. Time for the good old fashioned lie.

Without looking at Steve you stutter "W-W-What are you even" a forced laugh

"We saw you guys last night you know" Bucky sighs from his place diagonal to you, in front of Steve as he looks at his best friend "Steve invited us to see"

Your heart drops in disbelief and eyebrows you are sure have left your face with how high up above they have gone. For the first time since coming for breakfast you look at Steve.

"You what?"

Steve's eyes are just as wide if not more and his entire face is redder than a tomato. His lips are quivering in horror at the accusation

"I-no I-I-I don't- I don't" He stops speaking as if losing his ability to as he keeps looking at you, both of you surrounded in your bubble of horror.

"Oh I don't think he remembers much with how much you two were drunk" Natasha pipes in.

You both have still not recovered from your daze of shock, not really caring about anyone. How were you supposed to face these people again after this? After they saw you- oh god!

"Well we got there by the end so there was not much we saw" Tony speaks up this time completely unhelpfully

"No no no no no" You feel like your head would explode as you move your hands to your head running them frantically through your hair, not caring about how much they are getting messed up. "This can't be happening, you can't, no its- Ahhh"

Something on your finger gets stuck on your hair pulling it painfully and you retract your hand but your finger is stuck to a strand of your hair. You pull it with force and let out a cry as it pulls your hair harshly before getting the finger free.

You look at your finger to analyse before your feel like your heart stopped beating

"There's a ring on my finger" you whisper, eyes widening "there's a ring on my finger" a little louder "THERE'S A RING ON MY FINGER" a frantic scream as you push your chair back and stand up

The entire table looks at you with looks of fascinating, confusion and pity as you look at the ring and then at the paralyzed Steve who has not moved a muscle, his fingers clenching tightly on the arm rest of his chair

"Ummm you got married last night" Wanda, a little unsure "at a local chapel, that ia what Steve invited us for?"

"WE WHAT?"

"You got married, the marriage license is right here" Natasha pulls it out from her purse "They gave it to us after you two ran out of the place in celebration of becoming Mrs. Steve and Mr. Y/N"

You slowly sit back down on your chair before taking hold of the form with shaky hands. And yup. Its a legitimate marriage license.

"Oh god" you whisper in horror "this can't be happening, this can't be.... Steve!"

You shake him violently, in need of a reaction from him. This is not something you are going through alone. It is something you both are going through.

He turns to you with an apologetic expression

"Y/N I don't I-- don't know what" he shakes his head

"Me too"

"Okay so let me get this straight, you don't remember getting married?" Bucky moves forward in his chair

You both shake your head

"And this is the first you found out"

You both nod

"Wow" Bucky moves back, his back hitting the back on the chair with a thud "This is gonna be interesting"

And for the first time this night you feel an emotion other than fear, shock and absolute horror. The feeling is anger and you make use of it, grabbing the fork off Steve's plate and throwing it at Bucky.

Of course he dodges before raising his hands and motioning a zipping lip action

"Okay so what are you gonna do?" Natasha asks, patting Bucky on the shoulder

You shake your head looking at Steve, who looks back at you with furrowed eyebrows in anticipation "I don't know, We'll just get a divorce?"

"What?" Sam screams at you and you turn to look at him

"Its not like it was planned or something, we are not even dating, we'll just get a divorce, everything will go to normal, easy peasy" you shrug

There is a collective silence in the room as you look ahead of you in challenge for anyone to say anything. Tony and Pepper share a look as Wanda shakes her head at you. Natasha and Sam are looking between you and Steve while Bucky’s eyes are trained on Steve. Bruce is trying his hardest not to look at either of you as he whispers something in Thor’s hear who listens in concentration. Other people are yet to arrive for breakfast.

"No" Steve says from besides you, shaking his head

"What?"

"We are not getting a divorce"

"Excuse me?"

He shakes his head "We can't do that, I can't get a divorce"

"And why the hell not?" You feel angry at him all of a sudden "you can't force me to stay in a marriage"

He nods his head "I know I can't, you are your own independent person capable of making her own decisions, but this is not your decision, its ours and I won't get a divorce until I have at least tried to make my marriage work"

"Your marriage?" You move closer to him, voice laced with anger "this was a freaky, drunk mistake"

He sighs "Y/N" he moves his hand to place it over yours but you move it away "can we talk in private please"

You stand up suddenly, banging your hand on the table, making Sam and Tony flinch back

"You can't force me into doing anything" 

And with that you are storming out of the room, Natasha and Wanda quickly getting up to follow behind just as Clint comes in sipping on his mimosa

"Hey guys!" He looks around at the atmosphere of the room "did I miss something?"

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

"No no no no no no no no no no" You are chanting as you move around the room, your hands tangled in your hair.

Natasha and Wanda sit on the bed of your hotel room, watching you go crazy, long given up on having a sane conversation. After a while of trying to calm you down and failing they decided to let you release all your anger.

There is a knock on your door followed by a voice and Natasha's come in all of which you ignore as you continue with your breakdown.

"She broken?" The new occupant of the room asks

"Yup" Wanda nods her head "We just cannot shut her down, I guess the off switch has gone bad, Clint"

"I got a rip off version of the story from Tony is it true?"

"What do you think?" Natasha asks sarcastically, rolling her eyes

Clint turns towards you, watching you going around the room chanting ‘no no no no’ then looks back at Natasha

"Definitely true"

All of them turn back to you

They say your wedding day is the happiest day of your life, you really wanna meet those people right as of now and give them a piece of your mind.

Your mind is in overdrive, feelings of betrayal, of uncertainty, of anger, of regret and off an unknown nature surround you. Memories of the morning, the little specks of last night, the gentle touch of his hand, the warmth of his huge body, the smell of him on your body that you washed off in the shower.

You shake your head trying, hoping these pictures in your mind would fall off from the force of the jerks. You cannot do this. You cannot deal with this. You were not ready.

You had feelings for Steve yes but those feelings don't give rise to happiness for a marriage you don't know if you want.

You don't know him. If he were the same person in a relationship, what he wants from a wife, what he wants from you. The future is a dark place and you are not ready for this step in your life. Feelings and everything aside, you are not ready to be someone's wife.

There is a shake on your shoulders that pulls your mind back to the mortal world. You blink twice to make out the offender who of course is Clint, Clicking his fingers in front of your eyes calling out hello hello.

You groan in irritation, pulling your hands out of your hair that they are completely entangled in. A single finger get stuck to a string of hair and you forcefully pull it out, at the moment not caring about ripping the hair off your scalp.

You look at the offending finger in question and the huge fake diamond ring attached to it. This ring. The ring that signifies all this. The stupid stupid ring. In the moment all you can do is blame the piece of jewelry for every bad thing that has been happening to you ever since you wore it and in your anger yank the ring of your finger and throw it away.

It hints the floor and the rolls over to the edge off your bed near Natasha who lifts her leg up to avoid contact with the thing. You glare at the ring with all the anger you have.

Everyone in the room looks at the ring in fear then at you before Wanda raises her hand, volunteers and stands up

"Hey Y/N" you look at her with shining eyes "You wanna talk now"

You just nod your head

"Fucking Steve Rogers" you seethe in anger

"Oh oh" Wanda looks around at the other occupants of the room "I thought we were supposed to console her crying"

"No no" Natasha shakes her head and stands up "We need to help her release the anger whatever way she feels is best"

Clint starts to speak something but Natasha interrupts

"Yeah fuck that guy" she nods moving towards you, encouraging you to go on, you oblige, suddenly feeling the need to

"That that moron"

"Yes very good go on Y/N"

"America's ass more like America's asshole"

"Yeah!"

"Okay okay" Clint quickly moves towards the both of you "I think that is enough"

"No Clint let her release her anger"

"Nat" he gives her a look and she huffs in irritation

"Since when did you become the sensible one in this friendship"

"Since you became the childish one" Clint shakes his head again "trust me being the one calming people down is a gig I will never want again"

"Guys" Wanda motions at the anger flared you. Clint focuses his attention back to you

"I thought you liked him"

"Seriously?" You glare at him "Just because I have feelings for a guy does not mean I want to marry him, I'm not ready to be his wife!"

"Fair point" Clint nods his head "okay, I'm sure if we both and by we both I mean the both of you talk it out, I know there will be a solution"

"He said no for a divorce"

"He what?"

"Didn't you hear the entire story?" Natasha crosses her arms "She said they can get a divorce and he said No"

"No?"

"Yes just No and" she puffs out her chest and imitates in her best Steve voice "I won't get a divorce"

"Okay but-"

"No buts Clint" you shake your head moving towards the bed and sitting down on it, Wanda coming to sit besides you "He is forcing me to stay married to him"

"He didn't say he was forcing you" Wanda says but you ignore her,

"I knew it" you glare at the wall in front of you "My mom always said Never trust a man whose smile steals the breath right out of your lungs”

"Seriously your mom said that?"

"No but it sounds really insightful and deep when you add the line my mom always said that"

"Oh my god you're right" Clint smiles nodding his head

"And we're back to me being the logical one" Natasha sighs, moving her hand to your shoulder "look Y/N as much as I am angry at Steve right now, Wanda has a point, he wants to talk to you"

"Nat" you shake your head I don't want anything to do with him"

"Y/N"

You shake your head

"No I want a divorce and that is that. He can't just declare he won't get a divorce and expect me to be okay with it"

You move towards the cupboards of your hotel room, pulling out your suitcase and stuffing the clothes you have lying around the room in it

"What are you doing?"

"Going home, I can't deal with this right now, I need a clear head and Ican't have it here"

"Y/N"

You raise your hand to stop Wanda from speaking anything further

"I just, I need time okay, just let me go"

"Okay I'll get the quinjet started-"

"No Nat" you shake your head "I'm going commercial and I need to be alone right now, I'm sorry"

All three of your friends share looks of concern with each other before turning to your aggressively packing form and sigh.

-----------

Steve raises a hand to the door, gathering the courage to knock before shaking his head and dropping his hand.

He shakes his head and looks at Bucky and Sam both of whom give him a double hand thumbs up and he sighs.

He has to do this. He has to tell her. Make it clear what he meant because ofcourse he didn't mean he was ripping you off your choice. Yes maybe his words were wrong and its his fault for that but he didn't mean it the way she took it.

A smile graces his lips and he shakes his head. His Y/N or well he wishes you were his and his smile widens at the thought of what you would say about that.

I am no one's, I am my own person.

Yes yes you are. Your own brilliant, smart, talented, beautiful person just a few reasons why he loved you so much.

Because it was love wasn't it. Love that he felt towards you when you smiled, when you steel from Bucky's secret doritos stash for Steve on his bad days, cleverly placing the blame on Sam (leaving behind evidences and all), He loves you when you fearlessly fight in the line of fire, when you run towards him with the first aid when a wound gets too deep, He loves you when you stop him from attacking the obnoxious accounts guy who says shit about Bucky before punching him on the nose yourself, he falls a little more in love with you every single time you do anything for him or others of your crazy family.

He just loves you and he will never force you into something you absolutely don't want. But he has to try to make you see this from his perceptive.

Before he can more his hand to knock on the door, it opens up to reveal the worn out face of the woman that rules his dreams.

A suitcase in hand, hair tied in a loose bun that sits on the back of your neck, spectacles sitting on the bridge of your nose, and clothes perfect for- wait were you leaving?

Your eyes widen behind the lenses of your glasses as you look at him before composing yourself back and trying to move around him. He does not budge.

"Y/N"

You shake your head, looking down

"I need to go Steve"

"Where?"

"Its none of your business"

"It is my business, I need to talk to you"

"Too bad because I'm leaving"

He sighs

"Y/n"

You shake your head and look at him with anger in your eyes "What? you think you can boss me around into submission?"

"No" he says trying to keep his calm "I want to talk that is all, then you can go all you want"

"No I am going now" you again try to push past him but fail

"Okay then I'll go with you" He says reaching out for your suitcase that you pull away from his reach

"No I don't need you to come with me"

"Well I need me to go wherever you go until we talk, so really the ball is in your court"

"Let me go" you seethe in anger, putting your suitcase down and clenching your fists.

"Talk to me" he says calmly

"I have a right to choose not to talk to you"

"Then I have a right to stand where I want"

"No you don't I'll call security"

"Do it" he crosses his arms "I'm not stepping away until we talk"

You look around to see all your friends watching intently, Natasha stands behind you shooting daggers at Steve while Clint looks between the both of you in worry, Wanda gives you a sympathetic smile, behind Steve Bucky and Sam turn away as you look at them, pretending they weren't even listening, idiots.

You take a deep breath knowing full well calling security is not an option. You guys are really famous, he's Captain America for god's sake this will be the headline before you can even blink.

You were not ready for that so shaking your head and convincing yourself that this is the only option because it was and its not because you want to hear what he has to say. Your feelings for him are long gone. The accelerating heart beat and the sense of warmth and safety are not because of him.

You step back into the room, allowing him in and motioning for him to go on. He looks around the room at the other occupants, his best friends just at the entrance and then turns back to you

"I was hoping for a little privacy"

The others look at each other but before they can even start moving you say

"No"

"What?"

"I said no" you cross your arms deepening your glare "Like you can say no to the divorce I can say no to being alone with you and also I need witnesses"

He rolls his eyes and then narrows them at you "I won't do anything you don't need witnesses"

"Its not for you, they are to keep me from snapping and killing you"

He rolls his eyes again, pinching his nose

"Now you're really annoying me, its not my fault what happened last night, you can't blame it all on me"

"Oh so its my fault"

He sighs, growing angry by the second

"Y/n, You know I didn't say that and for a second can we just talk about it like two mature adults"

"I am talking like an Adult"

"You've been making a scene like a child"

"Me" You look around, a laugh escaping your lips "I'm making a scene? Who was the one who declared my choice doesn't matter"

"I did not say that" he growls and before you can say anything else he moves a finger to your lips, effectively shutting you up

"I said I can't get a divorce, There was more I would have said if you hadn't have left the room, or you would have talked to me"

"I-" he shushes you again

"You know what your problem is? Its that you don't listen, you just assume, You know I would never force you into a marriage you don't want but still decide to believe that. You want the truth? Here it is. I can't get a divorce before giving my marriage a try-"

You try to interrupt, try to remind him this isn't a real marriage that this isn't real but he stops you

"Please just listen okay" His ocean blue eyes shine emotion and you find yourself drowning, realizing again that how ever much you want them to go away the feelings you have for him are still present. The sadness in his eyes, the fact that it seems he make cry any second calms your burning anger. Because suddenly you realize you are not the only one going through this.

You nod, tired suddenly, this day has been hectic and long, filled with uncertainty and there was only one sanctuary in times like these and it was these blue eyes and so you finally decide to listen. He shakes his heads,

"I can't get a divorce before giving my marriage a try, I can't. Call me old fashioned but marriage in my time was considered sacred, it was a bond for life time and I always believed that when I got married I will do everything to make it work, to keep my wife happy. I know these are not normal circumstances in which people get married but its a marriage none the less and I would, I could never- I never would be able to forgive myself if I didn't give my marriage a try especially because its you-"

He shakes his head, you both look at each other, eyes shining and bodies catching up with the exhaustion you felt since the morning. There is no one except the two of you in the moment and that is why you don't notice the disappearance of your friends that slipped out the door moments ago.

"Why?" you move closer "What do you mean?"

"That I can't let my marriage fall apart with a girl I always wanted to marry in the future, because I know Y/n if we go through the divorce things are gonna be awkward and yes I'm selfish but I can't take that chance, the chance to loose you"

You shake your head

"I-"

"You don't wanna be married before dating right, before knowing how I am in a relationship?" He takes a step forward "then let me take you on a date, let be buy you flowers and pick you up at your doorstep, let me take you to a fancy restaurant that serves way little food to fill our stomachs so we have to go to the hotdog cart in the park and then walk around talking about nothing. Let me give you my coat when you get cold, let me hold your hand and keep you close."

"Let me take you on several dates: ice skating, paint balling, trekking, just watching tv on the bed, let me be your partner in whatever you wanna do and when you feel you are ready that is when we can move further. Let's just forget about this marriage if you want, just just give me a chance to be the right man for you" he shakes his head "give me a chance to be your man and take care of you, fight with you, buy gifts for you to make up, anything you want just let me be the guy you want for once, give me a chance, let me love you Y/n"

You take a breath at that. A lone tear falling down your left eye. How many times have you wanted for him to say this, how many times have you dreamed about this moment (under different circumstances of course). How many times have you wished for this closeness? Then what was it that was holding you back. Was it fear? Uncertainty? Mistrust? No it was yourself and a set of rules you had for yourself.

The rules, the decisions, the anger all seem to be melting under his bright gaze. Under the burning heat of his ocean blue eyes. The eyes that shine too. That hold back tears of fear. Scared of a chance that this may not work, that this may not be what you want. That a night he let loose would become the night he lost everything he wanted.

You both stay there a moment holding each others gaze before you decide fuck it and close the distance. Grabbing the back of his neck and pulling his lips to yours. Giving your control, your anger, your stubbornness, your lips, yourself all to him.

He is startled at first. Not responding to the kiss at all. For a while he had no idea what even is happening but when the flutter of his heart slows down, when the feel on his lips dies down as you pull away.

"I-" your eyes widen as you realize what you just did and you shake your head "I didn't I- that sounded so good, I- couldn't I couldn't help myself. I didn't mean to just ambush you like this- I didn't mean to do this- I-"

You start rambling, tears building up in your eyes before Steve brings his index finger placing it on your lips, effectively shutting you up. He moves a string of your hair behind your ear with his other hand and stares in your eyes with a passion, you feel he is directly looking at your soul.

“I need you to kiss me again but like you mean it this time” he says moving both his hands to behind your neck and pulling you close "I need to give you the reaction to this kiss like you deserve"

A tear falls down your left eye which he is quick to wipe away, you look into his eyes, so welcoming, passionate, waiting, giving you the chance to not mean it. To walk away now if you don't want this. But you are tired and this is all you have wanted. He was offering you everything you wanted and you take it. Wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling his lips to yours.

The kiss is hungry, its passionate, its everything. He kisses you like there is no tomorrow, like this was the last thing he will ever do and he has to do it perfectly. His hands are everywhere and so are yours. You touch, you feel, you kiss and you lose yourself to him and him to you. Its a melody a song and dance routine with your bodies matching in step.

You feel him push to backwards before falling on the bed, him on top of you, making sure not to crush you under his weight, never stopping the kiss. If breathing wasn't necessary for you maybe he would not have let go but alas it was and you needed to breath and so he pulls away, not stopping his en devour of your body, moving to places kisses along your jaw, your cheeks, your collar bone, behind your ear and after being sure you're all caught up on breath he takes over your lips again. Its just kissing, a heavy makeout session but by the time you're both finished, your breaths are shallow, and bodies are tired and in need of more.

Steve never breaks eye contact after he pulls away, smiling and tucking at strand of your hair that has fallen to your cheek behind your ear. After what feels like a moment he whispers in your ear

"Is that a yes to that date"

A laugh escapes your lips before you can help it and you slap his shoulder making him loose balance and almost fall down on you but he manages to get control

"No" you shake your head playfully and he narrows his eyes at you

"Seems like you need more convincing then"

You wink at him with a wicked smile

"Maybe" but before he can dive in to capture your lips again you hold up your palm in front of his face which he promptly kisses, pushing it away to reach your lips around it. You giggle and shake your head "wait hold up, I have something to say"

"Say it fast I don't think I can stop kissing you now that I know how it feels"

Your heart flutters at that but with a quick shake of head to bring yourself back.

"This does not mean I agree to be your wife for the rest of your life"

He gives you a sad smile at that nodding his "I know" he moves a string of your hair that had come to your cheeks behind your ear "I gotta woe you" A cheeky smile "And trust me I'm all prepared to spoil you with my love".

And this time you don't stop him as he dives in for a long, very long makeout session and maybe something more.

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

The moon shines through the open window complete in its half crescent glory. The stars barely visible in your New Your city suburban Avengers compound. The room is lit with candles and the table is set with all his favorite dishes.

Steve has no idea of the surprise that was waiting for him. He had kept good on his promise of loving you, of dating you before you have to live as a married couple.

One month in he had looked at you as you entered the communal kitchen, placed a kiss on his sweat soared cheeks from his workout, gagged and imitated puking before sitting besides him and stealing his pancakes. He had watched you as you ate from his plate before nudging him and telling him to think of it as his own food and eat with you.

After giving you a deep kiss and departing towards his room to take a bath, he had turned to Bucky and told him he was done. You were the one. Earning a gleeful laugh and pat of the back from his best friend.

Two months in he had bought the ring with the help of all the avengers because when he told Bucky he had to tell Sam too and Bucky can't hide anything from Nat and if Nat knows so should Wanda and Tony knows all about the best jewelry shops and prices and so on so forth everyone was involved.

There was a solo mission organised for you, a crappy stake out because no one wanted to miss the ring choosing part by volunteering to distract you. Even though Steve tried his hardest to tell them that is the only reason they were told. He seemed to have reached deaf ears.

Different jewelers from all around the world signed an NDA and flooded the compound to be the seller of THE RING. None worked and at the end Steve drew a sketch of what he wanted and presented it to the old lady that owned the store near his house in Brooklyn. The ring was perfect.

Four months in he asked you to move in with him and four and a half month in you said yes.

Five months in you were living in the house Steve had built just for the two of you in the Avengers compound. Because no matter how much he wanted a place just for the two of you, he couldn't compromise your safety and Avengers Compound was the safest it can get. Plus he was not sure you could live much far away from the idiots you called family.

Six months in he got the courage to propose and six months in you told him with tears in your eyes you were not ready yet. Six months in he had held you and told you he would wait as long as it took

Seven months in and he had asked if he could call you his wife almost thrice every week. It were little moments where he would remind you he was all in. Where he would talk about wedding cakes if you wanted a ceremony even though you won't have to.

Sly glances at a specific finger on your left hand, bare and manicured when you complained to Nat on the phone about the guy at the bar who couldn't take a hint.

He was ready for joint accounts and had even talked with his bank on giving you access to all his money. A life insurance was set up with you as the nominee because he knew how unpredictable life could get and he wanted you taken care of if something were to happen.

Bucky called him Idiot in love, Wanda said it was sweet, Sam just laughed and muttered something about him being a goner and Nat just shaked her head in amusement.

Eight months in and you knew you were ready. Having gotten every Avenger in on your plan. Because if you tell Wanda, Natasha has to be told too and Nat can't hide anything from Bucky and if Bucky knows Sam has to know too and Tony knows all the people that can help set you up the place and so on so forth every Avenger was involved, giving you their verbal promises not be too nosy. Promises they broke obviously except Sam who had crossed his fingers behind his back so his promise doesn't count.

Nine months in and that is how Steve was greeted when he entered the house he shared with you. The smell of roses and the distant one of steak. The living room lit with candles and you, his girl standing in the living room dressed like the fairies his ma told him were the creation that god delicately put together himself. His girl smiling at him and melting his heart with her eyes.

She motions for him to come to her and his legs take a course without his consent.

She is in his arms in a second and kissing his lips the next one. The moment is beautiful, its quiet, its everything and when they break off he looks at her questioningly.

"Whats all this?" He asks looking around the entire room, his eyes lands on the table set up for two with a candle in the middle and all his favorite dishes spread around the table "Wow all this for me? Is today something special, am I forgetting something?"

Still looking at the flowers and romantic decor of the room, he misses the uncertainty and fear in your eyes as you try to calm your running heart to a reasonable pace.

And thus when he turns to look at her, the exact moment a tear falls down her eyes he quickly runs to her trying to take her in his arms but she resists move a hand in front of her to stop him

"Y/n whats going on" He looks at you in fear now "did I do something wrong? Are you leaving me and all this is you make me feel better, because I can improve, tell me what I did wrong, I will fix it -I-"

A little laugh out of your lips stops him in his ramble and ge looks at you with knitted eyebrows, confusion all over his face

You sigh, moving towards him and taking his hands in your own "Steven Grant Rogers I don't believe in happily ever afters and forever, I never believed in consuming, encompassing love , I used to laugh at the couples on TV that promised each other infinity because I never understood that. I have tried to find reason for love, reason to love someone so much that they are all you want, to promise an eternity because you want one with them. But today here I am and I have no idea why I love you this much. No reason. But I still love you and I do want to promise you an eternity"

His eyes shine in synchronicity with yours as a single tear falls down your left eye. He brings his hand to your cheek and wipes it away and you smile at him before moving to get down on your knee and suddenly he realizes what is happening and he catches hold of your shoulders forcing you to keep standing. He holds up a finger in front of you, a huge smile gracing his lips

"Hold on just a minute" he runs away in the direction of the bedroom.

You look at him with wide eyes, shocked for a moment before deciding to follow him. This is what you get after your entire heart felt speech? Is it payback for the time you said no?

Steve is frantically searching through the drawers of his night stand, closet, the pockets of his pant and coats, throwing everything around in search

"Where is it!" He huffs angrily while throwing all his clothes around the room. One article of said clothes flies away and hits you right on the face. You throw it away, rolling your eyes

"Steve?"

"A minute" he doesn't look up

"Steve"

"I need to find it, where is it?" Steve keeps searching, your entire room is a mess of clothes and books and how many glasses do you guys even own?

"Steve you won't find the rings" He stops at that and looks at you, eyebrows furrowed

"What do you mean?"

"You won't find the rings because I'm wearing them" you move your left hand in front of him so that he can have a look at your ring finger. The diamond shines of on finger matching the shine of both your eyes.

"Now can I finish"

He nods never taking his glistening eyes off the ring on your finger as he moves to sit on the bed.

You move closer to him and sit on the floor in front of the bed taking hold of his hands in both of yours.

"What I'm trying to say is that you have been my Prince, even though I never wanted one, you ambushed my heart and now I want to be your wife" you move to sit up a bit as you look at him "So Steve my handsome hero can I please call you my husband from this day forth? Seeing as we already did get married?"

A smile so wide, you are sure his cheeks must be hurting graces his lips and he nods his head, seemingly lost on words.

"You move his hand in between the both of you and look down on it, before digging in the pocket of your dress (yup your dress had pockets, one of the many reasons you bought it) and producing a silver wedding band you had bought for him

"May I?" You motion towards his ring finger

He shakes his head pulling his hand back and you look at him in confusion. He just smiles and produces the other hand

"That was the right one, here"

You smile at him shaking your head and placing the ring on his finger before he takes your hand and pulls the rings off your finger and smiles at your knitted brows

"Its my right to put these on your finger, you can't take it away from me"

You laugh at that and eagerly give your hand to him, on which he places both the engagement and wedding rings, holding it out for himself to look at and smiling, as a tear rolls down his eye.

You move your hand to wipe it away and he catches it to place a soft kiss on your rings.

"I love you"

"I love you too"

You both move towards each other, you lips mere inches apart when a voice calls out

"You may kiss the bride"

And kiss the bride he does not, instead jumping on in full action mode, moving you behind him from any unwanted threat. You are started too, looking around and moving your hand under the bed to pull out your gun before you realize who the voice belongs to and roll your eyes

"Steve its fine" He sigh irritably "Its just-"

"Me!" Clint jumps out of the AC vent with some of the Avengers following while the others come out of other different locations around your house

Steve shakes his head, clearly annoyed as he looks the the offenders

"What the hell is wrong with you guys" He asks exasperatedly, moving his hands through his hair

"What you though we would miss this after years of pinning?" Bucky asks, putting his arm around Natasha who just smiles at you. None looking even a little bit guilty.

"Yes" you sigh "You said you won't be nosy"

"Its not nosy when it comes to both of your love life" Sam says and the others nod their heads

"It is-" Steve starts to speak before sighing and shaking his head "You know what yes. And now that you have seen all you have to, you can leave"

He starts pushing everyone out. And you let out a little laugh as they argue back

"Hey I thought we were going to celebrate" Tony looks around the room “I got champagne and stuff”

"We will celebrate after I have celebrated with my wife" Steve tries hard to send them away "I need to celebrate with just her first okay"

"What no wait a minute-" Bucky starts to say but its Natasha that interrupts him

"Hey Buck lets just leave them" she says and before her husband can protest any further she adds, patting her hand on his chest and winking in your direction with a smirk "let then have this time to themselves and make our godchild"

A collective groan burst out in the room while you glare daggers at your smirking now ex best friend

"I wish I could unhear that" Tony sighs moving out of the room and towards the main entrance "okay fine but you're throwing us that wedding party Rogers"

Steve nods, eager to send them all away, his face still red with remnants of the blush Nat's comment caused

"Yeah, Your drunk wedding took away my best man opportunity" Bucky crosses his arms

"Who said you were gonna be best man" Sam asks pushing Bucky on the shoulder

Bucky straightens his body, puffing out his chest and coming close to Sam

"Oh but I am gonna be" Sam moves closer glaring daggers at Bucky and before you or anybody else could resolve their fight Steve speaks up

"Fight it out outside" he says pushing both of them out "tell me who won"

You look at him with amusement as Nat whispers "Someone's eager" in your ear, patting your shoulder, moving out towards the other Avengers, breaking the fight between her husband and his frenemy.

You look to see what happens before Steve quickly closes the door double locking just to be sure and then turns at you, a simple smile on his face. You smile back

"Now where were we?" He moves closer, taking you into his arms

"I think we were gonna kiss" you hit his nose with your finger

"Oh yeah I was gonna kiss my bride" he pulls you close so that you wrap your legs around his waist, perfectly eye to eye with him now.

You nod, pulling your lips in a straight line

"Before those guys-" you start to say but Steve puts a finger on your lips, effectively stopping you from speaking any further

"Don't" he shakes his head "Don't talk about those idiots"

"Okay" you smile at him, waiting for him to make a move

"May I kiss my bride?" He then asks you, with passion in his eyes

"You may kiss your bride" you say and just as he moves to pull you in for a kiss you whisper "Husband"

He stops smiling at you before pulling your legs off from around his waist and putting you down.

"I will my Wife" he whispers his eyes shades darker, dipping you down, his hands on your waist and the back on your head, he takes your lips in a passionate kiss.

----------- The end ----------

So I was gonna add a little epilogue at the end but this one got too long so I think I would post it separately. Thank you for reading!

Tags: @kayteewritessteve​

MY MASTERLIST

[theveryinsignificantpotato]

OCD

I am SO sorry this took forever! My depression on Monday felt like it tripled and for the rest of the week I had no motivation for anything (including my school work, but thank God I managed to get my anatomy work done omg that was so scary;;) thankfully I saw my doctor on Thursday and I'm on meds now so hopefully I can get back into some sort of rhythm with my writing.

Also, due to my grades and not wanting to be kicked out of nursing, I will be closing requests until January. I will work on the requests that have been submitted before today, but will not be accepting any new ones. Sorry for the inconvenience.

Crowley x OCD!Reader

For @david10ant

Formatting is a bit weird on this one, I apologise.

---

“One… two… three… four… five…” Her voice was soft, counting every step she took as her foot hit the tile. Her head was low and her eyes were focused on her feet, watching carefully to be sure she didn’t take a single wrong step as she made her way to the table, where she stood as tall as she felt she could, squinting her eyes and taking a deep breath. “G-Good afternoon..” She began, slowly opening her eyes with another deep breath. Her patrons were staring at her with furrowed brows, but she did her best to ignore their clear disgust as she continued “C-can I help you? Do you need a different table or seats?” 

The woman had long brown hair with brown eyes to match, but they weren’t very pretty with the way she was glaring “What?” She spat out to the stuttering girl who stood before her

“I just… want to make sure you are comfortable…” The poor girl defended 

“The table is fine, are you going to take our order or what?”

“R-right, what can I get you?”

-

Crowley couldn’t help his smile as the two of them pulled up to the establishment, he was so excited to see the look on his girlfriends face when she saw him.

“Well, you seem excited, Crowley” Aziraphale chuckled at his friend as he unbuckled his seatbelt 

“No, I’m just ready for lunch.” The demon replied coolly, removing the small griin from his face

“You never even eat, dear.” The angel chuckles gently at his counterpart, “It’s alright to admit you are excited to see y/n.”

Crowley grumbled, exiting the bentley with a pout, even though he knew the angel was right, he could hardly hide his excitement as he walked through the door and found a table.

-

"You've repeated the order back to us three times! What is your problem?!" The woman cried

"Ah, I'm sorry! I just don't want to mess it up, it was a-"

"Oh my God! Are you stupid or insane or something? What is wrong with you!?" Her husband was the one to chime in this time, slamming his hands down angrily on the table, causing the girl to jump back in fear, his hair was blond and spiked up all over, his green eyes were no kinder than his wife's, either.

The noise had gained some attention of the other patrons, especially that of a fiery haired demon who had only just found his seat with his angelic companion. The two looked on, assessing the situation as it played out for a little longer.

"N-no sir, I'm not insane. I have a-"

"Why the hell are you working when you're clearly unfit? Just go take the order in already!" He spat at her, finally breaking her enough that she began to cry quietly

And then Crowley had enough, anger flooding his entire being as he stood up and stomped over to the couple "Hey!" He shouted at the man, standing between the table and his shaking girlfriend, "who the hell gave you the right to speak to her like that!?" His voice boomed and his eyes glowed with rage

She brought a hand to her face in shock "Crowley…?" She whispered shortly before feeling the familiar calming feeling that swept beside her, holding her free hand in his as she watched her boyfriend scare the hell out of the man that made her cry

"I'll tell you this, hell has a special place for people like you two, and I'll be proud to personally make sure you suffer for the rest of eternity as soon as you arrive if you do so much as make a single additional comment towards that girl, are we clear?" Crowley spat, his serpent eyes glaring at the couple as they shake in their seats. They nod violently in confirmation, far too afraid to do anything else, but it isn't enough, "So that's a yes then??" He leans forward, leaning into the table to come off as more intimidating.

The couple glances at each other before letting out a fearful "yes!" In unison

Crowley gives a Curt nod before turning on his heels to find his girlfriend holding the angel's arm and crying behind him. She hid her face, embarrassed to be crying in public even with the angel there to comfort her, but Crowley approached her nonetheless. His body had been rigid, stiff with rage at the couple from before, but he went soft upon hearing her quiet sniffles into Aziraphale's coat. He looked at the angel, who nodded shortly before he gently put his hand on her shoulder, "y/n." He said softly, causing her to look up at him with red puffy eyes

"Crowley." She sobbed, jumping to him and wrapping her arms around his torso as if just being close to the demon would make the whole bad situation come to an end.

He returned the embrace, allowing himself to relax with her for a moment before gently guiding her out of the establishment "come along, my love, let's get you out of here." He says, resting his hand on the small of her back

"Wait, I can't just leave..!" She cries, looking back at the angel who gave her a reassuring look

"Azi will take care of it, dear. Right now you are the priority." He says gently as he continues leading her through the door

She lets out a defeated exhale and looks at Aziraphale apologetically just before the door closes behind them. Crowley guided her to the passenger side and held the door while she climbed in the Bentley. Once she was in he closed the door and went to the other side, quickly beginning to drive at a terrifying speed to St. James park.

Upon arriving he helped her out of the car like the true gentleman he'd never admit to being, and the duo began walking hand in hand around the sidewalk. "Do tell me, Crowley," She began, earning the attention of the demon, "What exactly are we doing here?"

He returned his gaze ahead of them "Taking your mind off things for a moment, we'll get ice cream and talk awhile." He gestures to an ice cream vendor just ahead before adding, "That's how it works, right?" 

She couldn't help her giggle, resting her head on his shoulder as they kept moving, "Yeah, I think it is." She said shortly before they approached the ice cream vendor, where the demon ordered her favorite flavor and passed it to her with a small smile.

She took it happily as they continued their walk, and for a few moments they would talk about anything and everything. Crowley loved hearing her talk, noting all of her quirks and traits quietly in his head as he learned them. He always knew she was different, but he never really considered that it could be due to something underlying, only that she had funny little traits. For example, he noticed the frequent handwashing, over-apologizing and how she often counted her steps, but never really linked them to obsessive compulsive disorder, that is - until someone accidentally ran into her and she burst into tears. 

From her perspective it seemed to happen in slow motion, the jogger misstepped and nearly tripped, bumping her arm and muttering an apology. The ice cream that had been in her hand was now dumped all down her clothing, and she stopped in place. 

“Ah, Shit-” She mutters, frantically trying to get it off, but ended up just getting her hands covered in it. Now she was dirty, everything was dirty. She was frantic and couldn’t think straight long enough to relax. Meanwhile Crowley was doing everything he could to calm down his girlfriend, but it all had happened so fast that he wasn’t quite sure what exactly was going on, and before he knew it, frustrated tears were streaming down her face.

He panicked for a moment, but quickly wrapped his arms around her in an attempt to comfort her, “Take a breath, dear.”

She sobbed, and several people around them began to turn their gaze to the couple, staring at them quite rudely. “Don’t, you’ll get dirty.” she cried, trying to pull away from his embrace

“No I won’t.” he replied quietly, holding onto her shoulders gently and looking at her face, “Look, n/n. It’s gone.”

She opened her eyes and looked down at her shirt, finding that it was now clean and dry, as if the ice cream had never been there. Her eyes were wide as she looked up at her boyfriend, still shaking from her outburst.

“You forget who you’re dating, my love.” He says, gently cupping the side of her face in his palm, and she closes her eyes as she takes a deep breath, “You’ve had a rough day, let’s go home, okay?”

She nodded slowly in reply, and Crowley gently pressed a kiss on her forehead before they turned to walk back to his bentley, the demon’s arm never leaving her shoulders. 

It really was a miracle y/n didn’t see the horrifying deathglare all of the spectators were getting, Crowley was certain that the screaming of a nearby child, or the woman who very dramatically pulled her kids behind her would give him away, but the girl didn’t seem to notice.

When he drove Crowley dared not speed, he was much more careful with his shaken up girlfriend in the passenger seat, and didn’t want to make it worse for her in any way. The ride was much slower than he was used to, but he kept his patience and remembered who he was doing this for, and that the girl next to him was worth every bit of it.

"I'm sorry." She apologises once they get to the apartment, looking absolutely deflated as she stood before him. 

He frowned, taking a step towards her “You’ve nothing to be sorry for.” he says gently, putting his hands comfortingly on her arms, “I just want to know why you felt like you couldn’t talk to me about your OCD.” 

Tears welled in her eyes once again “OCD? I-I don’t…” She began to frantically defend herself, but the gentle concern in Crowley’s eyes made her pause enough for him to speak.

"Y/n, please don't lie to me. I'm not blind." He says, his golden eyes showing nothing but concern and adoration as he looked at her, and she finally took a breath, looking down in shame

"You're right.." she mutters, "I just didn't want everyone knowing, and I didn't want you to see me any differently"

He steps forward, holding her tightly in his arms as she began to shake once more, "sweetheart, you shine brighter than the stars themselves, nothing, not even OCD, can change that. I want you to know that you can come to me for anything at all and I will always love you the same." He says gently, kissing her on the head

She whimpers into his jacket, crying quietly to her demon boyfriend as he held her in his arms. They stood for a while, but eventually Crowley moved her to the couch where she sat on his lap and cuddled into his chest while he hummed softly to her. His wings were unfurled, wrapping around the two of them as an extra layer of warmth. Y/n never felt safer than she did in Crowley's arms, enough so that she began to quietly relay all of her worries to him, and he listened. He would listen to her all night if it helped.

[mysticsitcom]

A fic inspired by an ask?

You bet.

Featuring @marshmallowprotection’s OC Bora Kim.

“Gnight Mom.”

Morgan froze, her eyes opening wide as she stared down at Bora.

“Bora.” she whispered. “Bora, hey, what did you say?”

Bora let out a quiet snore.

Morgan paused, and swallowed. She adjusted Boras blanket, hands shaking, and left the teens room.

Mom...

She had never been called that before. And when was the last time she had called someone that?

It had been years.

And now this spunky teen crashed into her life. Bora was almost immediately taken in by Jumin, and Morgan, well,

She wasn’t ready.

But nevertheless, Morgan did her best to help out Bora. She didn’t think much of it. Bora was a teenager in need, like she had been at fifteen. It was natural that she would attempt to help Bora, however awkward her attempts were.

Morgan had never expected to become so... attached to the teen, though. She worried about Bora and smiled when the teen was happy.

But now... Mom.

Morgan was used to titles. But this was one title that she had never ever expected to have.

“Morgan? Dear, are you alright?”

Morgan looked up at Jumin. She nodded shakily, pushing past him, then paused, whirling back around to her boyfriend.

“Am I Boras mom?”

He frowned, looking confused. “I believe so? I’m her father, and we’re together...”

His voice trailed off as Morgan’s face paled. Her hands gripped his jacket, breaths coming out shaky.

“B-but, Im not her birth mother...”

“And I’m not her biological father, but I’m her father nonetheless.” Jumin said softly. “Morgan, what’s wrong? You look sick.”

She let go of his jacket, yanking the penthouse door open. “I... I’m fine. Just tired. G-good night Jumin.”

Morgan sprinted to her car, driving quickly. She drove for a good hour, trying to calm herself down.

What was wrong with her? She had faced bombs, ambushes, poisoning and so much more. But this, this title...

She wasn’t sure whether to cry, throw up, scream... or feel happy.

The last option scared her the most.

Morgan parked in a field, gasping for breath.

God, everything was jumbled up in her head like a hurricane of emotions.

Fear, sadness, joy, love, anger, bitterness, more fear, hope...

Morgan threw back her head, letting out a scream. It made her feel a bit better, she supposed. But her head was still aching.

She lay her forehead on her steering wheel, closing her eyes. “Mama... why did you die... goddamit...”

Morgan lifted her head, leaning back into her seat. “I don’t know what to do. God... I don’t know how to be a mom. I can’t even make a decent lunch for fucks sake!”

She pulled out her phone to call Eliza, and froze. Her homescreen...

Jumin, Eliza,Tasse, herself, and.. Bora. Bora was in the front. And Tasse stood in the back, their signature faint smile on their face.

Morgan sighed and called Eliza, who picked up immediately.

“Hey honey! I was just about to go to sleep. What’s up?”

“Oh, nothing. Go to sleep.” Morgan mumbled.

Elizas voice sharpened. “No. What’s wrong?”

She sighed, rubbing her temple. “Um. Well, you know that Jumin and I are together. And Jumin adopted Bora?”

“Yeah?”

“Well...”

She paused, closing her eyes. Ugh, why was this so hard?

“Well?” Eliza echoed. “Morgan, you okay?”

“No. No, I’m not.”

“Well, are you asking about Bora?” Oh god, she didn’t get her period today? Did she bleed through the sheets again?” Eliza yelped. “Morgan I told you, hand wash them and show Bora and-”

“No!” Morgan yelped. “No, no that’s not why I called. She’s stocked up on tampons and pads, don’t worry. She forgot them so I grabbed them yesterday.”

Eliza giggled. “Alright, that’s good. Then what is it?”

Morgan swallowed. “Well, um... do you think I’m Boras mom?”

There was a pause. Morgan could almost see Eliza frowning as she thought.

“Morgan, that’s not for me to say.” Eliza hummed thoughtfully. “That’s Boras choice. If she sees you as her mother-”

“Eliza, she called me mom!” Morgan burst out. “That’s why I’m calling. I don’t know how to feel and-”

“Morgan.” Eliza said sharply. “Deep breaths honey, you need to breathe.”

Morgan squeezed her eyes shut tightly, exhaling slowly. Yeah, she could breathe.

“Better?”

“...yeah.”

“Alright, that’s good honey.” Eliza chuckled. “And about your question, I think that’s something you should talk to Bora about.”

“Eliza.”

“I think that you’ve been acting as her mom, yes. But you need to talk with Bora if you want this straightened out.”

“I...” Morgan looked up at the night sky, hands shaking. “I don’t think I’m ready for that title...”

“And that’s perfectly fine.” her girlfriend hummed. “Just let Bora know, and she’ll understand.”

“But...”

“No buts Morgan. You need to communicate with her, okay?”

Morgan sighed. “Alright, I will... Good night Eliza, love you...”

“Gnight honey. Love you too.”

The phone call ended with a quiet click, and Morgan leaned against her car seat, rubbing her eyes.

Communicate to Bora... ha.

She could barely communicate with herself, what the hell was she supposed to say to the teen?

“Goddamit Mama...” Morgan groaned. “How the fuck am I supposed to handle this?”

It was a question she’d think about in the morning. After coffee.

Three days had passed.

Morgan has kept away from Bora, and Jumin for the matter.

Did the distance help? No.

Was she going to continue doing it?

Probably.

“Oh, hey...”

Morgan jumped, her eyes wide. “Holy shit Bora! Don’t sneak up on me like that!”

Bora winced, stepping back. “Sorry...”

An awkward silence hung between them. Bora kept her head down, like when she first came to the penthouse.

“So... are you looking for your headphones?” Bora mumbled. “They’re on the couch I think.”

“Oh... yeah, thanks.” Morgan responded hastily.

She nearly sprinted into the living room, not knowing what to say, and wanting to leave as soon as she could.

She had one hand on the doorknob when Bora spoke up.

“Did I piss you off? Did I do or say something wrong again?”

Morgan flinched. “No, no, you’re fine.”

“Liar...”

She winced, but didn’t bother saying anything in response. Bora stood still for a moment, then started to leave.

“Bora.”

The teen paused, turning back slightly.

“Why the hell did you call me mom?”

She flinched, and Morgan suddenly realized her question was more of a verbal attack.

An accusation, filled with anger.

“Sorry...” Morgan muttered. “I just- I don’t know why you called me mom. Could you please tell me why?”

Bora frowned. “Well, you’ve been my mom. I mean, you’re dating Dad, but you’ve been my mom so...”

Morgan didn’t answer, turning Boras reply over in her head.

“I won’t call you mom if you don’t like it!” Bora yelped. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to-”

“No. No, it’s just-”

Morgan’s tongue felt like cement again, hands suddenly shaking.

A mom? She had been Boras mom?

What- How-

“I’m not your mom... like, I didn’t give birth to you and-”

“Dad isn’t my biological ‘father’,” Bora interrupted. “But he sure as hell is my dad.”

“But...”

Her voice trailed off, and Morgan looked at Bora, swallowing.

“I’m not... I’m not mom material...”

“What do you mean?” Bora frowned. “I don’t get it. You’ve been-”

Everything suddenly came pouring out.

“Bora, for fucks sake! Just look at me! Purple hair, tight tops, lots of piercings,” Morgan cried. “And I’m brash and blunt and sarcastic. I swear all the time and have the stupidest laugh and I’m not a good example for you.”

She shook her head frantically. “I can’t cook, I don’t even know how to pack a lunch! And I yell and rage at little things and that’s not good for you to see! And I talk about violence all the time and watch gorey things that you shouldn’t watch with me but you do and-”

Her voice cut off, and she let out a hoarse sob, suddenly aware of the tears building in her eyes.

“I’m not...”

“Are you done?” Bora asked.

She nodded slowly. “Yeah and-”

“Okay, first of all!” Bora said sharply. “It doesn’t matter what you look like. That has no value in being a parent. Second, I think you look badass and I don’t want you to change.”

She stepped towards Morgan. “And yeah, you’re sarcastic and swear a lot, but that’s okay. It’s just you, and there’s nothing wrong with that!

You talk about gorey stuff and watch gorey things because that’s just a part of your job. And you teach me about anatomy while we’re watching, so I say it’s educational! And you don’t need to know how to pack a lunch, Dad has the cook make me lunch, and we both know that!”

“Bora...”

“No, I’m not done!” Bora snapped, holding up her finger.

“You know how you’re being my mom? Because you’re there. You come to my school to pick me up, enduring all those awful remarks about you. And then you ask me about my day, and help me with my homework.”

Bora paused. “And then when I get bullied you step in, even when I tell you not to! You take care of it and then you make sure I’m okay.”

Morgan opened her mouth, but Bora glared at her.

“I said I’m not done!”

The teens voice cracked slightly.

“And you comfort me when I’m feeling down. You go to all those parent teacher conferences and you don’t take the teachers shit and set them straight. And you stand up for me and always take my side unless I really messed up.”

“And you ignore your touch aversion and give me a hug when you know I need one. You listen to my day and my interests and then help me improve and show me techniques because you researched them even though I never asked you to.”

She stopped again, and Morgan froze seeing the tears in her eyes.

“Bora, don’t cry.”

Almost instinctively, she went to Bora, frowning in concern.

“Come on, don’t cry...”

Bora let out a little hiccuping laugh. “See! Even now you don’t want me to be sad. And I’m not even really sad! This is what a mom does, Morgan. This is what a mom does...”

“But-”

“No buts! You acting like my mom without even realizing it!”

She wiped the tears away, grinning. “You’ve been acting as my mom, and that’s why I called you mom. If you don’t want me to call you mom, you could’ve just told me!”

Morgan flushed in embarrassment. “I- Okay, fine. Look, I just got scared. Just.. how about you just call me Morgan, okay?”

Bora nodded. “I can do that!”

She paused. “Uh... are you crying?”

Morgan blinked, touching her face. “Oh. Guess I am.”

She grinned. “You made me cry Bora. How dare you!”

“Hey, those are your tear ducts that are acting up!” Bora gasped. “Don’t blame me!”

Morgan laughed. “Alright, fair enough.”

She wiped the tears from her face, smiling softly. “Alright, I’m glad we cleared that up.”

“You just had to ghost us for three days though!” Bora pouted. “How dare you.”

She laughed again, shaking her head fondly at the teen. “Heh, sorry. I won’t do that again, I promise.”

“You could pay me back with ice cream.” Bora quipped.

“Now youre just being opportunistic!”

“Yes I am!”

“Alright though, ice cream sounds good.” Morgan chuckled. “I’ll get my keys.”

“Thanks Mom. Ack-” Bora yelped.

Morgan paused, and smiled. “That’s alright kiddo.”

She snatched her keys and grinned. “First one to the car gets a double scoop.”

Bora was already sprinting.

“Cheater!” Morgan laughed, running after her.

“You’re just slow Mom! You’re just slow!”

Mom...

You know what?

She could get used to that title.

[juju-on-that-yeet]

Needle and Thread

Prompt: Whumptober Day 11, Stitches

Summary: Yandereplier rips his stitches - again - and nearly dies. Dr. Iplier is tired of putting his boy back together.

Warnings: Gore, blood, surgery

Tagging: @peribloke (ask to be tagged!)

Read on AO3 (Full Whumptober Series)

Enjoy!

~

Yandereplier is many, many things, but he is not, hasn’t been, and never will be “careful.”

This is only proven by Yandere’s decision to go train in the dojo, despite the stitches tugging at his side. He’d been in a group fight a couple weeks ago and a guy with a knife had snuck up on him and nearly gutted him like a fish. Fortunately Chrome had been there to take Yandere home, and Dr. Iplier was able to fix him with a long line of stitches in a column up his side. He’d been confined to the clinic for a while and released on strict orders from Dr. Iplier to take it easy for the next several weeks, maybe the next month, so as not to rupture his stitches. That meant, according to Dr. Iplier, no going out at night to pick fights and party, no training in the dojo, and no other activity more strenuous than Mario Kart. But after two weeks of video games, drawing, watching anime, and reading manga while sitting on his butt all day, Yandere is bored. He’s fit to bursting with restless energy, so much so that he can’t think about anything else. Finally, he reasons that it’s been two weeks, he left the clinic last week, and he should be okay training so long as he doesn’t go too crazy, right? Maybe just for an hour, and then he’ll go back to light activities like Dr. Iplier wants. And even if he does tear his stitches, it’s not like it’ll be the first time.

But Yandere inevitably gets more and more into his training as the afternoon goes on, and an hour comes and goes with him still in the dojo, hacking open training dummies and throwing bulls-eyes with ninja stars. The stitches tug and tug and eventually start to burn, but by then the rest of his body is burning, too, burning with exertion and waves of sweaty heat, so Yandere ignores them. He finally stops after three hours, and curses to himself when he realizes how much more time he spent training than he meant to.

He curses again when he realizes his side is damp.

He looks down to see his clothes soaked with blood from his ripped-open stitches. There’s blood trailing Yandere’s path through the dojo as he trained. As the adrenaline wears off, the pain starts to set in, and so does the dizziness.

“Fuck,” Yandere gasps, putting a hand to his wound. He can feel how it’s gaped open, how his shirt is sticking to the inside. It throbs worse every second as Yandere stumbles out of the dojo. At first he thinks he ought to go back to his room and try to make the injury look less awful before going to Dr. Iplier, but he quickly begins to realize just how much blood he’s losing, and just how exhausted he suddenly is. He turns to go in the other direction instead, to Dark’s office, hugging the wall as he walks.

His wound sends stabbing pain rocketing through his body with every step, even as his legs get shakier and weaker. He finally slumps down against the wall, unable to keep walking, still a distance away from Dark’s office. When he hits the ground, he feels something awful inside him, like something ripping away. He cries out in pain. When he touches his side, he can feel something there, something wet and warm bulging from his side, something too solid and formed to be blood.

“Oh no,” Yandere gasps. He’s really done it this time.

He’s not awake when Dark finds him half a minute later.

~~~

Dr. Iplier is having an ordinary day doing paperwork in the clinic until he hears the telltale sound of Dark teleporting into the waiting room. He barely has a moment to register the sound when Dark is shouting.

“Doctor!” he roars.

“Woah, hey, I’m coming!” Dr. Iplier yelps, dropping his pen as he gets up from his desk, flustered. He rushes to the waiting room as he continues. “What on earth is–”

His words die in throat when he sees what Dark is here for. Yandere lays in his arms, unconscious and pale, drenched in blood. There’s something hanging there from his side, something reddish, looped, twitching in the air.

“Dear god, is that part of his intestine?” Dr. Iplier gasps. Dark’s aura cracks and flashes around himself.

“You tell me, Doctor,” Dark growls.

“Alright, just, here–” Dr. Iplier gestures for Dark to follow and dashes to the operating room.

Dark lays him on the nearest operating table as Dr. Iplier washes up, preparing for surgery.

“Get Plus,” he tells Dark, “I’m going to need another pair of hands for this.”

Dark nods and vanishes. Dr. Iplier pulls on a surgical mask and looks over at Yandere, at his pale face, at the timer above his head, his time, his time, oh god he’s almost out of time–

The instant Dark returns with Plus, Dr. Iplier turns off the parent in him with effort and begins the frenetic surgery.

Dr. Iplier ignores the timer. Ignores Yandere’s face. Thinks of him as “the patient” and nothing stronger. Push this back in, pull this closed. Hold this, Plus. Hand over that, Plus. Blood. More blood. More packs. Pull together flesh. Connect layers. Muscle, fat, skin. Intestine and bowel. It’s anatomy. It’s textbook. Hold it together, sew. Watch the monitor. Watch the monitor. Clean up more blood. Wrap gauze. Let Plus leave. Let the patient sleep off the anaesthesia. Watch the monitor. Wash up.

When it’s over, he throws up into the clinic’s bathroom sink and sobs until he can’t breathe.

~~~

Yandere wakes up in the clinic more sore than he’s ever been – an achievement, considering the injuries he’s gotten in the past. His side is stiff, swathed in bandages and stitched up tight once again. There’s a faint buzzing at the back of his mind – the painkillers, probably – and he stares at the ceiling and sighs. He can only imagine how Dr. Iplier must’ve reacted to seeing him.

“You’re awake.”

Oh, shit.

Yandere turns his head and locks eyes with Dr. Iplier, who’s sitting at his bedside.

“Uh.” Yandere tries for a sheepish grin. “Hi, Dad.”

He expects Dr. Iplier to sigh in exasperation, to lean in and kiss his forehead, to chastise him for being reckless, tell him how worried he was, tell him how relieved he is that Yandere’s alright. But Dr. Iplier doesn’t do any of it. He just looks back at Yandere with a measured glare and crosses his arms. His eyes are bloodshot. It hits Yandere like a rock that Dr. Iplier isn’t relieved, or worried, or sad or happy or even disappointed.

He’s angry.

“What did I say to you when I discharged you last week?” Dr. Iplier asks, voice tight and cold as steel.

Yandere is too taken aback to speak for a long moment.

“Dad–”

“What. Did I say. When I discharged you.”

“You s-said…” Yandere swallows around the sudden lump in his throat. “You said I had to…take it easy for the next few weeks.”

“And what did I mean by “taking it easy,” do you remember?”

“Y-Yeah.” Yandere looks away, unable to take that glare any longer.

“Look at me,” Dr. Iplier orders, “And explain exactly what I said.”

Yandere looks back at him. He isn’t used to that look on Dr. Iplier’s face, isn’t used to that tone of voice. The lump in his throat gets bigger.

“Y-You said no going out,” Yandere mumbles, unable to speak louder, “And n-no dojo training.”

There’s a long pause. Dr. Iplier sighs, but it’s not the exasperated sigh Yandere’s been waiting for. It’s short and angry, like the snorting breath of a bull.

“Did you think I was joking when I told you that? Did you think I wasn’t serious? Or maybe you thought I was telling you that for kicks, just so you’d be bored for the next month?”

“N-No…” Yandere whimpers, sinking deeper into the mattress. He hates this. He hates this so much.

“Are you sure? Because this keeps happening. You keep ignoring my post-op instructions and you keep ripping your stitches, and I keep having to fix it. I don’t know–” He breathes in, trying to calm himself. “I don’t know why you don’t listen to me. Do you take me less seriously as your doctor because I’m your father? Or is it the other way around?”

“No! Neither!!” Yandere cries, almost screams.

“Then what is it?” Dr. Iplier seethes. “Why does this happen every time? And why…” He breathes in again. “And why can’t I get you to stop?”

Yandere doesn’t answer. He can’t. He doesn’t know what to say. There’s tears in his eyes but he begs himself not to cry, not now.

“Yandereplier,” Dr. Iplier begins, and Yandere flinches because he can’t remember the last time Dr. Iplier used his full name, “How much time do you think you had left when Dark brought you here?”

So it was Dark who got him to the clinic. He must’ve heard Yandere’s cry of pain. Yandere feels guilt twist deeper into his gut knowing that Dark had to see him so hurt. He wonders if Dark is as mad at him as Dr. Iplier is. He pushes the thought out of his mind as he addresses Dr. Iplier’s question.

“Like…an hour?” Yandere asks, voice shaky.

“Twenty minutes.” Dr. Iplier enunciates every syllable. “When I laid eyes on you, you had twenty minutes left to live. I thought, “This is it. This is the day I lose my son.” I fought tooth and nail to keep you alive. And then I realized: This is only going to happen again. Maybe not as bad, but this’ll happen again. Hell, I thought, maybe you’ll even rip these stitches again, and god knows you barely survived it the first time.” He looks away. “I can deal with you being violent. I can deal with you being reckless and going to unsafe places and starting fights. I can deal with you being an adrenaline junkie. But I can’t deal with this. I can’t deal with you sabotaging your own recovery. I can’t deal with the idea that you’re always at risk, always in danger, even when you’re at home and I’ve told you to be careful, and you’ve promised me to my face that you would be.”

There’s a long pause as Dr. Iplier finds the strength to look at Yandere again. As much as Yandere didn’t want to meet his eyes before, this is almost worse. Finally, Dr. Iplier looks at Yandere, and his eyes are shining.

“I think,” Dr. Iplier begins, with a shaky breath, “That maybe you’re starting to take me for granted. And don’t get me wrong; I’d rather you feel confident that I’ll help you when you need it than you feel like a burden and like you’re bothering me. I’m glad that all my reassurances that I care about you and want to take care of you are sticking. But Yandere, it’s not easy. You don’t make it easy.” He runs a hand down his face like he’s trying to keep himself from crying. “Every time I see you on my table it hurts. It hurts me, and I know it hurts the rest of us, too. And like I said, I know you can’t help how much you like to take risks. I understand that you’re going to get into fights and get hurt. I understand that accidents happen. But this?” He gestures around himself, at the room, at the whole situation. “This did not have to happen. This was not inevitable. This was not an accident. This was you being irresponsible and thoughtless. You understand that you can rely on me to help you, but I don’t think you’ve internalized what that means.” He reaches out and takes Yandere’s hand, squeezing it before continuing. “It means that I love you, and that I want you to be safe. I want you to take care of yourself, and so does everyone else in this building who loves you.” He stares at Yandere, no longer with anger, but with deep, earnest love. “I love you unconditionally, and that’s why I always fix you, and that’s why I tell you to take it easy when you’re hurt. Because I don’t want you to be hurt. You deserve to be safe and healthy.”

Yandere doesn’t know when tears started falling, but try as he might, he can’t get them to stop. Dr. Iplier’s right, he’s right, and Yandere can’t believe he was ever so selfish.

“I’m s-sorry,” he sobs, “Papa, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I w-wasn’t thinking…”

“I know,” Dr. Iplier tells him. He squeezes Yandere’s hand again. “I know you’re sorry, sweetheart. But “sorry” doesn’t mean anything if this happens again next time you get hurt.” He leans closer to Yandere, and tears start to fall from his eyes, too. “Can you think about this next time? Can you remember this next time you want to ignore my post-op instructions?”

Yandere nods, speechless with tears. He holds out his free hand, begging for a hug. Dr. Iplier gets up from his chair to sit on Yandre’s bed and hug him gently, avoiding his injured side. Yandere twists his hands into Dr. Iplier’s lab coat as Dr. Iplier strokes his hair. He peppers Yandere’s cheeks with kisses, shushing him and whispering sweet, gentle words into his ear.

“I’m sorry I made you cry, honeybee,” he murmurs, “This conversation was hard for me, too. I love you so, so much, and I always will.” He pauses, then speaks with a small amount of humor. “Even if you rip your stitches again someday.”

“I love you too,” Yandere whimpers into Dr. Iplier’s shoulder. “I’ll be careful n-next time, and from now on, I p-promise.”

“Good,” Dr. Iplier says, kissing the top of his head. “When you feel better, I can let the others know you’re awake. I know they’ll be happy to hear it, and they’ll definitely want to see you.”

Yandere nods. He does want to see his other loved ones when he has more composure. But for now, he’s perfectly content to stay like this, wrapped up in his father’s arms.

Yandere is a lot of things, but he was not careful, and he hasn’t been careful. But maybe, with time, he will be.

[f-nodragonart]

have you guys ever watched the docufiction film The Last Dragon | A Fantasy Made Real? Its a fictional documentary set in an alternate universe where dragons were real

I wrote a few reviews abt it quite a while ago, but the longer one is p old and kinda cringey/incorrect in certain places, so I’ll run down my basic thoughts here

also if anybody wants to watch this film, here’s a link to it. I first watched this when I was a wee lil dragon-fanatic, and I’m obviously a sucker for faux-documentary/field journal fantasy media, so this movie holds a special place in my heart. HOWEVER, as I will explain here, it unfortunately gets a LOT of things wrong. it’s def got some positive qualities (which I will also describe), and it’s a fun watch, but DO NOT take this movie as an accurate assessment of what dragons could have been under different circumstances

WHAT THIS DOCUFICTION GETS WRONG*:

*I’m ESPECIALLY harsh on this movie b/c it’s a DOCUfiction. I tend to be a bit more lenient when a story isn’t necessarily aiming for a realistic setting (stylistic consistency is relevant here), but when a piece of media sets out to describe a scientifically feasible setting?? I bring the hammer DOWN

1) dear god, the anatomy is janky

the wings in particular can get RLY bad. 

these wings clearly need more musculature and lower arm/’hand’ length, and a full membrane connection to the torso. they don’t even have ANY hint of integration/connection to the ribcage– no keel, no shoulder/chest musculature, not even any scapula!!

disgraceful…

while I can accept elbow spines in certain cases, I still don’t rly think they’re necessary in most cases– ESPECIALLY in this case where they don’t even provide extra area to the membrane around the elbow! what’s even the point!!

also I just noticed the designers forgot to put the elbow spines in the skeletal, so I can’t even check if they were integrated correctly….. hell, looking closer, I don’t think the front legs have scapula either….. DISGRACEFUL…

the wing shoulders also need to be shifted back behind the front leg shoulders, obviously, but they ALSO ought to be shifted down more towards the sides of the ribcage. wings based high up near the spine are typical of birds b/c they’ve got specialized wing musculature that basically pulls all the wing muscles (including the “back” muscles) down under the ribcage. bat wings aren’t built for that kinda setup, thus the shoulders are based more towards the sides on actual bats. this would likely be the same for bat-winged dragons

and those aren’t even the worst wings

I legit lose my mind a little lookin at these wings like…. why no membrane…. WHY NO MEMBRANE…

also there was clearly some attempt here to give these wings chest/shoulder musculature, but the designers didn’t know how much musculature a wing actually needs (or even how those muscles need to be shaped to properly hold a body..). thus, we just get pillowy, bara-boy boobs that would be useless for flight, even if the wings themselves were actually designed right

obviously a keel is necessary for a creature this big, but even if the designers nyxed the keel, the LEAST they could do is stretch the pecs down the full length of the ribcage to properly support the torso…

beyond the wings, some of the torsos are JUST a mess

the wyvern’s torso is mostly a problem b/c of weird wing integration, but the hexapod up top just has a plain weird torso, wings or not

it feels like the designers attempted to slap canine-like front legs on an ungulate/equine chest, and just utterly failed to integrate them properly. thus, the legs are floating to the sides of the chest rather than connected to and holding it up in any substantial way

I actually see this lack of shoulder integration in a lot in dragon designs, but it’s usually a result of trying to preserve the shape of chest/throat scales, so it’s kinda weird to see on a leathery-skin design

another thing abt this particular hexapod dragon is a bit hard to explain, but the neck is like… weird. idk if it’s super apparent to others, but the neck attaches more under the skull, a bit like a dog (ignore the skeletal, it’s clearly not accurate to the dragon actually presented). however, the flow of the neck from the chest is more of a horse neck? the strong up-and-over curve of a horse neck can’t rly attach to the skull in any way except the direct back of the cranium, yet this neck attaches somewhat to the underside of the skull, giving it a VERY awkward curvature. I happened to recently answer an ask abt necks that may explain this better, but suffice to say, the neck is weird

also, as u can see above, the base of the neck at the chest is super stiff b/c the animators didn’t bother to shift the mass of the chest/neck w/ the movement of the neck, which in turn makes the neck look ABSURDLY thin at angles like these

oh, and while this is certainly not the worst of the anatomical sins, the shrink-wrapping is p bad. yeah yeah, flighted creatures gotta be light, but flying animals still have SOME fatty deposits, like…. c’mon, u can SEE the cartilage rings in the throat of that poor wyvern, gimme a break… + it gets cold in the sky, where are some protective feathers/’fur’ for these guys?? especially side-eyeing the one living in the mountains. yeah I know they’ve apparently got that heat-retaining blood protein or whatever, but much like the flight bladder (which I will get to later), that’s asking me to excuse a bit much in terms of anatomy

(tho to be fair, the actual dinos featured in the film are naked and thin too so… at least this inaccuracy is consistent..)

I feel like this is especially bad w/ the heads. it looks like there’s barely any muscular support at the connection to the neck, and no jaw musculature to speak of. of course, a croc-like jaw design could layer the muscles under bone so that they’re not necessarily visible from the outside

but note the mass distribution of the bones of the jaw– they still stick out a fair bit to leave room for the muscles underneath (including on the upper jaw), and more importantly, the area for basing the muscles on the lower jaw is WIDE. now dragons may not necessarily need a strong bite-force like crocs if they’re using their talons and fire for attack, but most ANY toothed-animal skull is gonna NEED a lower jaw with a wider back end to provide stable, strong support to the jaw muscles. what I’m seeing from the ‘croc-’like dragon heads in this movie (not the wyvern head so much, that actually isn’t too bad in this respect) are flimsy, cardboard structures that will warp at the slightest hint of pressure

also, the teeth on all the dragons are weirdly straight and thin? like fishing teeth? but the main dragons are all land predators– they SHOULD have thick/curved teeth. even crocs have thick, slightly curved teeth, get w/ the program!!

and let’s not forgot this fucker

sir… SIR, that is a muscle-less TUBE with LEGS….. 

………..funny how suddenly the wiener-dragon ain’t shrink-wrapped, eh?

also this dragon absolutely CANNOT glide, no matter what kinda “flight bladders” they got, the membrane surface area is FAR too small even for gliding, I’m sorry!!

2) “evolutionary theory? what’s that??”

basically the film goes, “WHOA this dragon has 6 limbs! no other vertebrate on the planet has 6 limbs! they must have a wild genetic mutation for that to happen– oh, yep, they sure do!” and just… leaves it there

the evolution of 6 limbs in any evolutionary tree similar to Earth’s is literally so complicated, I have an entire post dedicated to breaking down JUST that concept. the way this movie so briefly presents this “wild mutation” doesn’t even BEGIN to cover how incredibly difficult it would be to shift something as hard-wired as vertebrate limb number from four to six

what’s even MORE frustrating tho is that this movie’s timeline for evolution doesn’t even make SENSE! supposedly their oldest dragon is the wyvern– the tetrapod. then that TETRApod somehow led to the HEXApod marine dragon. what in the world?? WHERE did that other limb set come from? WHY is there another limb set suddenly???

as I explain in that post linked above, it’s practically impossible for another functional, full limb set to evolve in a complex vertebrate– that’s why it’s most reasonable for hexapods to evolve long before tetrapods set the standard, and the two evolutionary lines would go their separate ways. there’s a small chance a limb set could evolve properly into a small, early tetrapod (tho even that is a long-shot), but in a LARGE vertebrate whose entire physiology revolves around their current tetrapodal, bipedal setup, as this movie suggests w/ their wyvern? hell nah, not a chance

and there are def other evolutionary problems throughout– generally just the fact that dragons seem to change VERY little, ‘aesthetically’ speaking, despite so many years of evolution and adaptation to wildly different environments (looking at the marine dragon..). yet when the dragons ARE markedly different from one another (wyvern vs. hexapod), it only brings up more problems, as covered above. like it’s all just so vague and ungrounded in any real evolutionary reality

also this post pointed out further problems w/ the evolution I didn’t even think abt (like the forest dragon being a contemporary to the mountain dragon, despite being used as an intermediary b/t marine and mountain) so I’m rly just 🤔 abt all this

3) BAD lab procedure!!

why aren’t the researchers wearing masks? they need masks to protect the corpses from human germs, and protect themselves from breathing in anything weird that was on the corpse! and they keep touching the corpse w/o gloves, getting their human oils all over the body! have they never heard of contamination?? AUGH

there’s definitely more wrong here that I rly don’t have the experience to speak on (and some of it I’m willing to excuse for the sake of a short, dramatic film– like the team having a whole lab setup right on the mountain), but the cross-contamination is what rly bothered me.

WHAT THIS DOCUFICTION GETS RIGHT and/or FUN:

1) realistic, cool behavior

the dragon behaviors featured are actually realistic, and downright cool at times!

screaming to both call for help and hurt an opponent’s ears; flashing wings to warn off opponents; mimicry to trick prey; that KICK-ASS courting ritual (if not displayed a bit awkwardly in terms of body positioning); the fiery brooding method (if we at least assume egg physiology that could handle and require that kinda direct heat, which I don’t think is…. necessarily outside reality… perhaps… maybe…)– these are all awesome examples of neat behavior

2) flight bladders? kind of??

this one is in the “got it right” list based more on potential than actual application in the movie

see, the idea of a flight bladder is p cool! the source of gas from digestion is completely reasonable, and it makes sense as a way to help a huge creature relieve some of the stress of flight

plus, the connection w/ fire-breathing is super interesting! it’s a very reasonable give-and-take system, and I like it a LOT. so this post pointed out the problems w/ having a flight system that relies on a product also used up by a different system, so now I can’t even give it that much credit lmao

however, the flight bladders in the movie are used to excuse some of the worst wing anatomy I’ve seen passed off as “realistic designs”. flight bladders may make up for *some* shortened wing length, or flight endurance, but they CANNOT make up for the problems I described in the “got it wrong” list

3) fire-breathing mechanics

if we now ignore the problems w/ this gas system being directly connected to the flight system, the fire-breathing is decently grounded in reality! the designers not only took into account the fuel source (gas from digestion), but also ignition source (platinum deposits). both of these sources are super interesting to me cus’ they technically utilize outside resources, which is not usually the case w/ a lot of fire-breathing mechanics I’ve seen

also love the specialized mouth anatomy– a scaled inner mouth and protective palate-valve make perfect sense to protect the dragon’s innards from fire, esp since the fire is igniting towards the back of the mouth. though the source of ignition being so far back in the delicate throat is itself suspect, and makes me wonder why it wasn’t simply ignited up towards the front of the mouth to prevent injury….. man I can’t give this film an inch w/o taking a mile back, huh!!

-Mod Spiral

[amuseoffyre]

Crossing Paths - 1946 - The Third Circle of Hell

Wherein there are repercussions from the Estrangement and a whole mess of questions go unanswered.

1946 – The Third Circle of Hell

 Crowley’s palms were sweating.

That wasn’t a good sign.

Okay, yeah, he’d kind of… slept through most of the last century, neglected any paperwork or memos to the head office and ignored at least a dozen summons from various demons. Technically he could claim disobedience wasn’t in his remit, but then there was the fact he hadn’t been doing anything for almost eighty years.

That was a big gap of temptation and sin across the world and someone was bound to have noticed, no matter what he had told Aziraphale in the past.

The fact that he’d heard mutters and whispers from the minute he set foot in the first circle didn’t exactly fill him with confidence. Whispers usually meant people talking and down here, people talking was never a good thing.

He squeezed through the flow of traffic, more worried that relieved when people started stepping aside for him, and headed down to the appointed meeting chamber for his long overdue meeting with Lord Beelzebub and the other earth-bound demons.

Definitely didn’t help that he was late.

Ha paused outside the door, straightened his glasses and his coat, then strode in, arms outstretched like a damned saint. “Hell-come home, am I right?” He swept into an extravagant bow. “Lord Beelzebub, my apologies for my tardiness.”

The high Lord of Hell waved a hand. “That will be unnecessary, demon Crowley.”

He almost froze on the spot, but forced himself to straighten up. “Oh?”

“Mm.” Their voice was a hum of the swarm that surrounded them. “Given the circumstancezzzzz, paperwork may be overlooked.”

“Circumstances?” He looked around the room, frantically scanning the faces of the other demons, trying to work out what the mood was meant to be. Good for him? Bad for him? Bad for someone else? Oh, please God, Satan and everyone, it was bad for someone else.

His eyes finally settled on Hastur. The demon was the best barometer. If Crowley was in trouble, it would show on his face, but right now, his face looked more like a slapped arse than usual and Crowley almost sighed in relief.

“The wars.” Beelzebub unfolded from their elaborate chair – never a throne, though. Lucifer wouldn’t like that. “Very impressive.”

“The w– oh. Oh! Yeah!” He hooked his thumbs into his belt and grinned as widely as he could, hoping the lies weren’t reeking on his every word. “Yeah. Well. You know humans. Give them an inch and they’ll do a mile with a bit of encouragement.”

“Our Master was very pleazzzed with you.”

“Oh.” The smile faltered a bit. “Goodie.” He hesitated then carefully said, “And before the wars, I wasn’t exactly…”

“Managing a great deal of corruption in London,” Beelzebub said. “We know it izzzz rare for you to focus on single souls, but these ones were tempted well.”

“In London?” Crowley squinted at them. “Oh, yeah. London. I mean, we all know London’s the place to go if you want to start something like that. Den of sin and iniquity, whores and… all that stuff, yeah.”

“And it spread,” Hastur said grudgingly. He sounded like he wanted to swallow his own tongue. “There was even mention of it in the American colonies.”

“They prefer the United States these days,” Crowley put in helpfully, still baffled. Every demon in Hell knew London was his jurisdiction, but someone had been tempting people while he was arse in the air under his blankets? He would’ve known about it. Would’ve felt it, surely? “If you don’t mind me asking, what was so special about those ones? I mean, it was a nice change of pace, but didn’t think it was going all that well.”

Beelzebub grinned, showing their dark, rotting teeth. “Your encouragement to lust and envy were particularly well done.”

Lust and envy?

Crowley was definitely out of his depth. Possibly without a paddle. There were no metaphors for exactly how bewildered he was. Lust wasn’t one of his big go-to temptations. Too easy, for one thing, and he wasn’t really one to see what humans might lust after beyond some random part of the anatomy. Mind you, there was that one time he made that one man go gaga for someone’s eyeballs. Ended up a bit messier than expected.

Instead, he just bowed again with a bit of extra hand-waving. “Glad to have been of such great service, my Lord.”

 ________________________________________

 “Angel?”

Aziraphale finished pouring the wine before he looked up. “Hm?”

Crowley was sprawled on the horsehair couch, a vague, puzzled look on his face. “You know when we– I mean, a few years back… mid-century… did you do any of my work?”

Even though they were back on speaking terms now, the thought of that awful period when they were not made Aziraphale’s heart clench. “I’m afraid not,” he said, offering Crowley one of the glasses. “I assumed you were doing your work and I was doing mine and that was the end of the matter.”

A flicker of some emotion Aziraphale could not decipher flashed across Crowley’s face and as ashamed as he was to do so, he reached out and felt the tenor of guilt.

“You… were doing your duties?”

Crowley winced, swaying a little from side to side. That was never a good sign, his most serpentine aspects emerging when he was anxious. “Not… exactly.”

Aziraphale stared at him, then sank down into his chair. Heaven would have come down upon him like the wrath of God if he had failed in his duty. He could only imagine how much worse Crowley’s managers would be. “Oh no.” He took a fortifying sip of his wine, swallowing hard around it. “So… if you don’t mind me asking, what were you doing?”

The word was muffled by the glass at Crowley’s mouth.

“What was that?”

“Sleeping! I was sleeping, all right? I went home and I drank six crates of wine and slept.”

“For eight decades?” Aziraphale laughed in disbelief, but it faded when Crowley didn’t laugh too.

The demon’s mouth twisted into a grimace. “Yeah.” He shrugged a bit. “Didn’t have anything to get up for, did I?”

It felt as if all the air had left the room. “Oh, Crowley…”

Crowley flapped a hand. “Don’t start! I’m up now. See? In your shop, drinking your wine.” He gave the glass a shake, the wine swirling. “Nothing to worry about.”

He was trying to hide behind the familiar bluster and show, but Aziraphale could remember their last conversation before their disagreement. It had been far more desperate than he realised. For Crowley to do that, to close himself away…

And on top of it all, he had left his work undone!

“Oh!” A horrifying thought stabbed at him. “Oh, my dear, you’re not in… trouble, are you? With your people? I mean, if you haven’t been meeting your quotas, I don’t imagine they’re best pleased.”

Crowley hooked a finger around his glasses, pulling them off and peering at them. “Funny thing,” he said, frowning. “They seem to think I was keeping on top of everything.” He laughed shortly, puzzled. “’Parently they think I had something to do with the wars.”

Aziraphale opened his mouth to tartly point out that he probably had when the eight-decade-sleeping crept back into his mind. That wasn’t something Crowley would joke about, not when things were still so tenuous between them. “They don’t know?”

Crowley shook his head moodily. “And,” he added, “turns out I’ve been sending out lust and envy all over the place. Said I’d gone and focussed on a few people and nudged them a bit further in our direction.” He peered over at Aziraphale. “You sure you didn’t do any tempting?”

Aziraphale shook his head. “I only did my duties.” He paused, recalling those exhausting years, which had only been bearable because of the procession of young men willing to entertain, though few of them lasted very long. “I made a few friends, though most of them are long gone now.”

“Yeah?” He didn’t need his senses to hear the whisper of wary jealousy in the demon’s voice.

Better not to prod a wound still so tender. “As I said, they’re long gone now.” He frowned. “Surely I would have known if there was another demon. London is mine. I could sense an infernal being anywhere.”

“Yeah.” Crowley took a swig from his glass. “That’s what I thought.”

Aziraphale turned his glass between his hands, the wine catching the light from his table lamp. “Do you think they tempted themselves, perhaps?” he offered, though he knew it was a weak argument.

“For my lot to pick up on it, someone from one of our sides had to be involved.” He sighed, shaking his head. “I dunno, angel. Right now, I don’t really care as long as they aren’t about to rip my arse through my mouth.”

Aziraphale winced. “Oh, Lord. Yes, better that they don’t suspect.” He hesitated, then gently said, “I’m very sorry.”

Crowley’s face twisted in confusion. “For what?”

“Making you feel that was your only option.”

The demon gaped at him. “Sod off, angel,” he snorted, sliding down the couch to slouch in an impressive display of forced nonchalance. “You’re not that special.”

Crowley was many things. A good liar was not one of them.

“I know,” Aziraphale murmured, “and I’m still sorry.”

The demon made an inarticulate sound, averting his eyes. “Just… more wine, yeah?”

The angel nodded, reaching for the bottle. “Yes,” he agreed. “More wine.”

[dontshootmespence]

Broken Homes Fix Broken Hearts

A/N: How do you love our OTP? Let @veroinnumera and I know!

Chapter 34

After a night filled with newly-engaged love-making, they fell asleep, tangled up together without a stitch of clothing to speak of. It had been the most restful night she’d had in forever, and she was pretty sure Derek’s too, considering he was lightly snoring behind her.

I don’t snore.

Yes, you do, Derek. I’ll film you.

Don’t you dare.

Turning over, she ran her finger over his jawline and waited for him to wake up, smiling when his eyes popped open. “Hey fiancee,” he mumbled sleepily. “How are you this morning?”

“I’m fantastic, fiance,” she replied, laughing as she lifted up her hand and marveled at the ring. Last night, she really hadn’t had too much of a chance to look at it; she’d been too overwhelmed. But it was beautiful, and the fact that it was his mother’s ring made it all that much more special.

“I don’t ever want to leave this bed.” Derek murmured, stretching.

“Me either, but we have a wedding to plan, so we may need to get up.” Juliet grinned.

“Nope. Not happening.”

She rolled her eyes and started to move to get up, but a set of arms snaked around her waist and pulled her back. Juliet let out a squeal of surprise which devolved into laughter. “Derek Morgan! You are incorrigible!”

“And you love it.” He chuckled, rolling her over and pinning her arms gently as he began to attack her with kisses.

She really did. And she was about to let him have his way and spend the day in bed when a loud ringing began. He groaned and pulled away, grabbing his cellphone off the nightstand. “Babygirl, this better be good,” he started, smiling as Garcia started rambling. Juliet could barely hear her, but from what she could gather, she was asking about the engagement. It didn’t surprise her that he’d told them beforehand. “Yes, I asked her.” He turned to Juliet and kissed her forehead. “Yes, she said yes.”

“Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!” Garcia screeched through the phone. That Juliet heard. “Oh my god, you’re going to live happily ever after I’m so excited!”

Garcia was the cutest. “That’s the plan,” Juliet replied. “Talk to you soon?”

“Yes, we have so much planning to do!” She clapped excitedly and said goodbye, leaving the two lovebirds to revel in the glow of being newly-engaged.

Juliet tried to get up again, succeeding this time when she coaxed Derek with the promise of pancakes. “So, I would like to know what ideas my fiance has about the wedding.”

Derek shook his head. “I’m not falling into that trap. The correct answer to that question is whatever you want, dear. My mama taught me that a long time ago.”

Juliet hip-checked him teasingly as she handed over a spatula. “Nuh uh. You are not getting off that easily mister. Tell me.”

He shrugged, looking over at her. “Honestly, all I need is you in a white dress and someone willing to marry us. Hell I’d elope if that’s what you wanted. The only thing that matters to me is you, Juliet.”

She blushed, and ducked her head shyly. Even after all this time she still melted when he talked like that. It almost didn’t feel real. And now she got to spend the rest of her life with him. Pulling herself together, Juliet shook her head. “Now that’s a trap I’m not falling into. I may not know much but I know your mother would murder me if she didn’t get to see her baby boy get married.”

“So no eloping then? You don’t fancy a quick drive to Vegas?”

Juliet grimaced and shook her head. “No way. I want to shout it from the rooftops. Okay, well I’m going to be running things by you all the time because I don’t want you to hate anything I pick. What do you think about getting married in the fall? Next year?”

“That’s good by me. I could picture you floating delicately over fallen leaves somewhere. Maybe a light blue for a color? Not too many jewels please?” If it made her happy, he’d do it, but being bedazzled wasn’t exactly his cup of tea, or mug of coffee really.

“Do you know me?” She laughed. “I’m no sparkly princess. I’m thinking I want to go for a vintage fairy-like vibe.”

Derek had absolutely no idea what that meant. “Whatever you wear, you’ll be beautiful. Who do you want to be your maid of honor?”

“Emily,” Juliet said immediately. “We’ve gotten really close. I figure Garcia is going to be your best woman?”

Chuckling, he kissed her neck as he passed her to grab something from the refrigerator. “You assume correctly.”

A few hours later they finally made it out of the house. Derek made one more impassioned plea for taking her back to bed, but Juliet had insisted. She wanted to share this with everyone that mattered to them. Of course, Garcia had probably already told everyone, even some random strangers Juliet was sure, but still.

As they stepped through the glass doors into the BAU, an explosion of confetti went off. Juliet laughed, as it cleared she could see Penelope holding a mini confetti cannon. “Hi Pen.”

The blonde didn’t speak, just tottered over and enveloped them both into a hug. “Oh I love you I love you I love you! I’m so happy, my heart is singing!”

“Too. Tight. Can’t, Breathe.” Juliet murmured into her sequined blazer, causing Penelope to reluctantly release.

“Sorry! I’m just so excited.” She squealed, grabbing Morgan’s face in her hands and kissing his cheek. “You did it! Well, we did it. Let’s be honest this wouldn’t have happened without me. And I mean-”

“Hey babygirl?”

“Yeah?”

“Can I say hi to everyone else?”

Penelope blushed, glancing back as if suddenly remembering that the rest of the team was standing behind her. “Oh. Right. Whoopsies!”

“Congratulations,” Spencer said, smiling as he embraced Derek in a warm hug. “And congratulations to you,” he continued, turning to Juliet.

Juliet was a wonderful torrent of smiles and laughs as everyone on the team congratulated them on their engagement. Even people she barely knew came up to hug her and tell her how happy they were for the two of them. It felt like a dream, walking through a cloud city where nothing could go wrong.

Rossi insisted on having drinks at his house in the near future in order to celebrate. Penelope and JJ started asking when they were going to start having little ones running around the house. And Hotch even broke out with one of his rare but genuine smiles. “Do you have a date yet?” Emily asked.

“Not yet!” Derek exclaimed with a mock tone of surprise, “But sometime in the fall.”

Juliet leaned into Derek’s embrace and sighed. “I’ve always imagined walking down the aisle among a sea of yellow, orange, and red leaves.”

They all chatted for a little longer before Rossi clapped his hands. “Alright, that’s it. We’re not going to get anymore paperwork done tonight so who’s up for good liquor at my place? Huh? What do you say.”

JJ had to beg off to head home to her boys and Emily mentioned something vague about meeting up with an old girlfriend. Juliet had known her long enough to know she meant she had a date, but didn’t pry.

The rest of the team started to collect their things while teasing Rossi about his extensive Scotch collection. Juliet went to the lair with Garcia to grab a gift she’d made for her and Derek.

That left Agent Morgan standing alone by the front doors, waiting for the team. A ringing started and after a moment of feeling around for it, Derek fished his phone out of his jacket pocket. The caller ID read: Unknown. Frowning, he picked up.

“Hello, this is SSA Derek Morgan speaking.”

“Congratulations on your engagement, Agent Morgan.” A voice crackled through on the other end of the line.

Derek tensed, unable to recognize the voice. “Who is this?!?” He asked pointedly.

“Enjoy it for tonight. Because by tomorrow, if you haven’t broken things off...well, let’s just say you’ll be sorry.”

He looked around calmly, trying to see if anyone within earshot was on their phone, but nothing. “I don’t know who you think you are,” Derek whispered, “But I won’t be doing that.”

“Is that so?” The person asked condescendingly. “I thought you cared about your family more than that.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” He asked, his voice raising in pitch with each passing moment.

There was a lingering silence on the other side of the line before the chilling voice broke through again. “Fran. Sarah. Desiree.”

Derek’s mouth went dry. “I don’t know who you think you are but-”

“Goodbye Agent Morgan.”

The line went dead. Derek nearly jumped when he felt a hand on his shoulder.

“Whoa. Everything okay?” Juliet asked, searching his eyes with her brow furrowed. Taking a deep breath, he nodded and smiled. “All good.” There was no reason to scare her when he didn’t even know if this was real.

So, he ignored the sinking feeling in his stomach and held her hand, walking out to the car with the BAU in tow ready to drink the night away.

He definitely needed a drink.

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