#something about adams finding the comments amusing from park

[ariemfox]

also i think adams kinda likes being sexually objectified by park. when it's just the 2 of them together. that scoffing amused laugh after her comment in the shoes gift sceneTM of s8e3 charity case (my beloved)? yeah

[heeluvv]

TEACH ME.ᐟ

pairing ᝰ.ᐟ stepbro! park sunghoon x stepsis! reader

warnings ᝰ.ᐟ stepcest, oral (m), face fucking, etc.

natty’s notes ᝰ.ᐟ mdni, hate comments will be deleted.

sunghoon never let up with his teasing, always throwing smug comments your way—how innocent you were, how untouched, how you wouldn’t even know what to do with a man if you had one.

it was constant, relentless, the kind of taunting that should’ve rolled off your back. but it never did.

you tried not to care, tried to brush it off like it was just typical stepbrother shit—him being a menace, always trying to get under your skin. but he lived for your reactions, for the way your brows would knit together in frustration, for the heat that would rise to your cheeks when his words lingered too long.

you knew it. and worse, he knew it too.

tonight was no different.

you had left your room to escape him, retreating to the couch in an attempt to find some peace, but he followed—because of course he did—plunging himself down beside you with that same lazy confidence, legs spreading wide, one arm draped over the back of the couch like he owned the space.

his presence alone was irritating, heavy with the weight of something unspoken.

“so,” he starts, his tone slow, laced with something teasing, something that immediately puts you on edge. his gaze flickers toward you, a smirk already tugging at his lips. he’s about to say something stupid.

and then—

“have you ever even sucked a dick before?”

your breath catches in your throat.

your fingers tighten around your phone, your head snapping toward him, brows furrowing as disbelief flashes across your face.

“what the fuck, sunghoon?” you scoff, shoving his arm. but he doesn’t budge—doesn’t even flinch.

instead, he grins wider, a soft chuckle slipping from his lips, his amusement obvious, infuriating.

“i guess that’s a no.”

you roll your eyes, turning your attention back to your phone, pretending to ignore him. but you can feel his gaze still on you—heavy, lingering, filled with sharp amusement.

then, out of the corner of your eye, you see the slow drag of his tongue over his bottom lip, his expression shifting into something almost mocking.

“poor thing,” he hums, feigning pity. “no guy’s ever had the pleasure of having you on your knees for him?”

his words send a shiver down your spine, uninvited, unwelcome.

your fingers twitch, gripping your phone tighter.

he was baiting you. again.

but this time, for some reason, you weren’t so sure you wanted to ignore it.

you let your phone slip from your fingers, barely hearing it land beside you as you shift your full attention to him.

slowly, deliberately, you turn to face him, a smirk tugging at your lips—one that doesn’t quite match the rapid pounding of your heart.

“you know what,” you murmur, pushing yourself up from the couch, your bare feet silent against the floor as you move.

sunghoon watches, his amusement flickering with something darker as you step between his spread legs.

his posture tenses, but he doesn’t lean away, doesn’t tell you to stop.

he just watches.

“why don’t you teach me then?”

his expression shifts in an instant.

his jaw ticks, his adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows, his fingers twitching against his thigh. the air between you thickens, something sharp and electric crackling in the silence.

his voice drops lower when he speaks, rougher.

“you wouldn’t know what to do with me, baby.”

his words are meant to intimidate you, meant to send you scurrying away, but they only fuel the fire burning low in your stomach.

you exhale a soft breath, then—before you can second-guess yourself—you lower yourself to your knees, your hands settling on his thighs, fingers pressing lightly into the muscle beneath the fabric of his sweats.

his body stiffens immediately, his thighs tensing under your touch.

his breath hitches.

his gaze—once playful, teasing—now darkens, his pupils dilating as he stares down at you.

you tilt your head slightly, your voice a quiet, sultry hum.

“then teach me how.”

his lips part, just slightly.

he doesn’t speak for a moment, doesn’t even breathe—just stares, his gaze fixed on you, unwavering, sharp.

then, finally, he exhales slowly, a smirk ghosting across his lips, though it doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

“you want me to teach you?” he murmurs, voice thick with something unreadable.

his fingers flex at his sides before he rests one hand against the couch, the other twitching like he’s deciding whether to touch you, whether to pull you closer.

then, his voice drops to something even lower, something more dangerous.

“fine.”

his eyes flicker down to your waiting hands, then back to your face.

“take it out.”

your fingers tremble slightly as they slide up to the waistband of his sweats, brushing over the firm muscles of his lower abdomen before curling around the fabric. with a slow, deliberate pull, you drag them down, taking his boxer briefs with them, letting the material bunch at his knees.

your breath catches in your throat as his cock springs free from its restraints, resting heavily against his lower stomach.

your eyes widen, heat pooling low in your stomach as you take in the sight before you—he’s not even fully hard yet, and he’s already huge.

thick veins curve around his length, prominent even in his half-hard state, and the tip glistens slightly with precum, the faintest bead of it catching the dim light of the room. instinctively, you squeeze your thighs together, feeling a dull ache begin to throb between your legs.

“spit on your hands,” sunghoon instructs, his voice calm but laced with quiet authority.

you glance up at him, only to find his gaze already locked onto yours, dark and unwavering. his arms are slung back against the edge of the couch, his posture relaxed—too relaxed, considering the situation. like he’s completely in control, completely at ease, watching you unravel before him.

you swallow thickly before obeying, parting your lips and letting a slow stream of spit coat both of your palms.

his lips curl into something unreadable, something pleased.

“now stroke it.”

you hesitate for only a second before wrapping your fingers around him, your touch featherlight at first, adjusting to the sheer size of him. your other hand moves up to join, both working in tandem as you begin to stroke, slow and unsure, gliding over the slickness of your own saliva.

a sharp inhale leaves sunghoon’s lips, the sound subtle but undeniable.

his muscles tense slightly, his chest rising and falling with measured breaths, but it’s the soft, unintentional gasp that escapes him that has your pulse racing.

“good,” he murmurs, voice slightly strained, his hips shifting just barely in response to your movements. “now—”

his eyes flicker down, watching the way your hands move along his length, the way his cock twitches under your touch.

“have your thumb circle my slit.”

his voice is softer now, laced with something less controlled.

you do as he says, your thumb gliding over the sensitive tip, spreading the precum, swirling slow, teasing motions against the head.

a quiet moan slips from his lips, barely audible, but the way his head tilts back slightly, the way his eyes briefly flutter shut before reopening, tells you everything.

his cock hardens under your touch, growing heavier, hotter, his body reacting despite his otherwise composed exterior.

“fuck,” he exhales, voice deeper now, more strained.

his arms remain slung back over the couch, but his fingers twitch slightly, gripping at the fabric beneath him as his breathing grows uneven.

he watches you work, watches the way your hands move, the way your lips part slightly in concentration, the way your own body seems affected by what you’re doing to him.

“now replace your thumb with your mouth and tongue.”

his voice is low, dark, dripping with authority as his fingers tighten in your hair, tugging just enough to make your scalp tingle. he guides you forward, bringing you closer to where he wants you, his cock twitching in anticipation.

“circle your tongue over my slit,” he continues, his voice raspier now, filled with something less controlled. “suck on my tip—but don’t let me feel any fucking teeth.”

your stomach tightens at his words, heat rushing through you as you obey. your lips part, and you let your tongue flick out, tasting him, teasing the sensitive head before swirling slow, deliberate circles around his slit.

his reaction is instant.

“shit—just like that, baby…”

his voice is rough, his muscles tensing beneath your hands. his fingers flex in your hair, gripping tightly as you suck on his tip, hollowing your cheeks, collecting the salty precum that beads at the head.

his thighs shift beneath you, his hips barely resisting the urge to push deeper, but his control is slipping—you can feel it.

“uhh—take me fully, baby,” he grunts, his hand tightening in your hair, guiding you down further, urging you to take more of him.

you try, your mouth stretching around him, your jaw aching as you attempt to accommodate his size. but he’s thick, and even halfway down, you already feel the resistance in your throat.

he groans, his breath hitching as your lips slide down further, taking as much of him as you can.

but it’s not enough.

his free hand twitches against the couch, his patience wearing thin.

“what you can’t fit, stroke with your hands,” he instructs, his voice slightly strained.

you wrap your fingers around the base, matching the movement of your mouth as you stroke him, your hands working in sync with your lips, slick with spit and precum.

his head tilts back, a deep, guttural moan slipping from his lips as he exhales heavily.

“fuck—”

his grip in your hair tightens, pulling you up just slightly, only to push you back down again, slower this time, controlling your pace.

your throat tightens, your breathing uneven, but you adjust, taking him in deeper, letting him guide you.

“this is how you do it, baby…”

his voice is barely more than a breath, heavy with pleasure, his restraint slipping with each passing second.

his hips twitch, his control hanging by a thread as he watches you, his dark eyes locked onto the way your lips wrap around him, the way your cheeks hollow as you suck.

“go faster, baby…” sunghoon groans, his voice thick with pleasure, breath hitching as his fingers tighten in your hair. his grip is firm, guiding your movements with slow, deliberate control, forcing you to take him deeper, to match the pace he needs.

you obey, bobbing your head faster, sucking harder, letting your tongue drag along the underside of his cock with every stroke. your hands work what your mouth can’t, twisting slightly with each motion, slick and warm, perfectly in sync with the way your lips stretch around him.

his thighs tense beneath your palms, his body shuddering as a deep moan rumbles in his chest.

his hold in your hair is almost too tight, almost bruising, but the sting only fuels you, makes the heat in your core grow unbearable. you let out a soft moan against him, the sound vibrating through your throat, sending tremors up his cock.

sunghoon’s reaction is immediate.

“oh fuck—shittt…” he gasps, his head tilting back, exposing the sharp line of his jaw as he loses himself in the sensation.

his other hand clenches against the couch, knuckles white, muscles flexing, his breath turning ragged, uneven. his hips twitch, threatening to thrust up into your mouth, but he holds himself back—barely.

his moans grow more desperate, more raw, mixing with the wet sounds of your mouth working him over, with the soft, messy gasps of breath you take between strokes.

he looks down at you through half-lidded eyes, his pupils blown, his lips parted slightly as he watches you take him—his cock disappearing between your lips, glistening with your spit.

his chest rises and falls rapidly, his body trembling as he grits out, “fuck, baby—just like that. don’t stop.”

he moans louder, his control slipping, fingers tightening in your hair as he pushes your head down further, forcing you to take him deeper. his hips jerk up, thrusting into your mouth, the sudden movement making you gag around him, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes.

“fuuuck—shit, baby,” he groans, his voice raw, breathless. “make me cum before they get here…”

the mention of your parents sends a fresh wave of heat through you, the risk of being caught only making this filthier, more forbidden. you could hear them any second—keys jangling, the front door creaking open—but right now, the only thing you can focus on is the way sunghoon is using your mouth, chasing his high with reckless abandon.

a muffled moan escapes you at the thought, vibrating around his cock, making him twitch against your tongue.

“oh fuck—” his voice cracks, his body trembling as he loses himself in the pleasure.

his grip in your hair tightens as he holds you there, his length hitting the back of your throat with every desperate thrust, your lips stretched wide around him, saliva dripping down your chin, making everything even messier.

the ache between your thighs becomes unbearable, your core throbbing with need as his moans grow louder, rougher, more desperate.

“take this fucking dick, baby—shit…” he groans, his head tilting back, eyes squeezing shut as he nears his breaking point.

he’s close. you can feel it—the way his cock throbs against your tongue, the way his thighs tense beneath your hands, the way his breaths turn shallow, erratic.

and god, you want it.

want to feel him come undone in your mouth, want to swallow every last drop before either of you even have time to process what the fuck you’ve done.

you hollow your cheeks, sucking harder, letting your tongue swirl around the sensitive tip, pushing sunghoon further into his unraveling. his grip in your hair tightens almost painfully, his thighs trembling beneath your touch as his breath turns ragged, uneven.

“oh fuck—fuck, fuck!” he groans, voice breaking, his entire body going taut.

his hips snap forward one last time, his cock twitching against your tongue before he spills into your mouth, hot and thick. his release comes hard, sharp bursts coating your tongue, dripping down your throat as he moans uncontrollably, his chest rising and falling in deep, shuddering breaths.

his head tilts back, eyes squeezing shut, jaw clenched as he rides out his high, his fingers tangled tightly in your hair, holding you there, making sure you take all of him.

his body slowly relaxes, his breathing still heavy, but his grip in your hair remains firm as he tilts his head down, half-lidded eyes locking onto yours.

his voice is softer now, but still laced with authority, still dark with satisfaction.

“swallow it, baby…”

his thumb brushes against your jaw, his smirk lazy, smug, as he watches you obey. watches your throat bob as you take all of him down, not a single drop wasted.

“good fucking girl,” he mutters, breath still uneven, his thumb trailing down to your swollen bottom lip, smearing the remnants of him against your skin.

his gaze lingers on you, eyes hooded, dark.

and even though he just came, the way he’s looking at you tells you—

he’s nowhere near done.

natty’s notes ᝰ.ᐟ okay so at first this was definitely a maybe (wasn’t sure if i wanted to post it since i felt like it wasn’t as good as i pictured it to be), but i’ll have you all be the judge of that ;)

[art-by-jas]

"Where's the showmanship? The pizazz?" AO3

Word Count: 8.4k

Summary: Current case is Tensley Evans, Going out for a drink with Barba and getting advice, going on a walk in the park with you, another case, meeting your co-workers, and grilled cheese with the promise of dinner at yours.

Sonny and Amanda stroll through the serene courtyard, the warm sun casting a tranquil glow over their surroundings. The picturesque, peaceful setting stood in stark contrast to the gravity of their case. Pausing briefly to admire the view, Sonny remarked, "Nice place," before refocusing his attention on the task at hand.

Amanda nods, her voice laced with weariness. "Let's just get this done and get out of here," she said. Sonny chuckles as they approach Dr. Durant and ask about Tensley Evans.

Sonny's dislike for Dr. Durant is evident in the subtle tightening of his jaw. The way Dr. Durant speaks about Tensley, shifting the blame onto her, didn't sit right with Sonny. As the conversation continued, Sonny's irritation grew - the doctor is full of himself and clearly trying to cover something up. Still, for now, Sonny lets Amanda take the lead in questioning.

Nick picks up Sonny on the way to the Millers' residence. The drive over is silent as Sonny's mind replays his conversation with Dr. Durant and the new lead on Tensley. He was about to break the silence when Amaro spoke first.

"Looks like we've got another lead to follow up on." He tells Sonny about the tip they received regarding a different incident involving Tensley Evans and a teenager at the center.

Sonny rubs his weary eyes, sighing. "Seems like this case keeps getting more complicated." He turns his gaze to Amaro, his expression a mixture of exhaustion and curiosity. 

"Rollins said, you seemed pretty annoyed back there with that director guy," Amaro comments, a smirk playing on his lips.

Sonny laughs, knowing he was caught. "Yeah, he's a real piece of work. The way he talks, you'd think he's holier than thou. The more he talked, the less I liked him."

Amaro chuckles, his tone half-amused, half-sympathetic. "Yeah, I get it. I've seen my fair share of guys like that. They've got their heads so far up their own asses they don't even realize how pompous they sound."

After arriving, it's not long before they start questioning Gregory and his dad. Sonny and Amaro sit across from Gregory and his dad, Tom Miller. Sonny's attention is focused and alert, his earlier exhaustion momentarily set aside. He starts the questioning with a professional composure.

⋆˖⁺‧₊���◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

Amaro, Carisi and Rollins go to Adam Brubeck's pool party to talk to him. Adam says that he never abused Tensley and calls her a "waste case." As the SVU squad looks Adam's other teen stars, they discover they either ended up in porn, in rehab or using drugs. They also learn that a 15-year-old girl named Amber Forbes drowned at one of Adam's parties, but her death was ruled accidental despite the fact that she had alcohol & ecstasy in her system.

After having a regroup meeting, Sonny was free to call it a day and head home.

Back in his apartment, Sonny is sprawled out on the couch, a tired sigh escaping him. The exhaustion of the day is catching up to him, and every bone in his body seems to ache. Despite his fatigue, his mind continues to churn with thoughts of the case, replaying the day's events over and over in his head.

He grabs the remote and turns on the TV, hoping that something mindless on TV will help him wind down. But even as he scrolls through the channels, he finds it hard to focus. His eyelids feel heavy, and his thoughts start to blend together into a tired haze.

After his brief nap, Sonny slowly stirs awake. The first thing he notices is that it's still light outside, the late afternoon sun casting a warm glow through the windows. He pushes himself up from the couch, stretching his stiff muscles and rubbing his tired eyes. As Sonny glances at his phone, he sees a message from Barba inviting him to Forlini's for a drink. A smile pulls at the corner of his mouth, maybe he’s making friends after all. He really could use a stiff drink after the day he's had. He quickly types a reply, accepting the invitation and letting Barba know he'll meet him there. Standing up, he makes his way to the bedroom to freshen up and change into something more comfortable.

The familiar sound of the city greets him as he steps outside, the warm summer air greeting him like an old friend. Sonny takes a deep breath, the familiar scent of exhaust and summer street food filling his nostrils. He starts walking, his footsteps echoing against the sidewalk, the anticipation of a cold beer and good conversation with Barba pushing him forward. After a short walk, Sonny arrives at Forlini's, the dim glow of the bar creating a cozy atmosphere. He pushes open the door and steps inside, scanning the room for Barba.

As his eyes adjust to the dim interior, he spots Barba on a stool  at the bar, waving him over with a friendly smile. 

"Hey Barba," Sonny greets, slinging his lean frame onto the stool next to him. He already feels more relaxed just being here, the warmth of the bar and the familiarity of the place wrapping around him like a comforting blanket.

"Well, look at you," Barba teases, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips. "How's the SVU been treating you?"

Sonny rolls his eyes playfully, "Better than my last home,"

"I bet," Barba chuckles, the sound of his laughter a familiar and welcome one. 

While they sit at the bar, drinks in hand, Barba suddenly glances over at Sonny, an inquisitive look in his eyes.

"So how are those night classes at Fordham going? You keeping up with your studies amidst all the chaos of the SVU?"

Sonny takes a sip of his beer, the cool liquid refreshing against his throat. "It's a struggle, but I'm managing," he admits, a tired smile pulling at the corner of his mouth. "There's just never seems to be enough hours in the day to get everything done."

Barba chuckles in understanding. "I remember those days. I barely slept during law school. But trust me, it'll all be worth it."

"Thanks, Barba," Sonny says, his tired eyes lighting up a bit at the compliment. "I hope so. I just really want to make a difference, you know?"

"I know," Barba nods. "But take it from me, you can't pour from an empty cup. Make sure you're taking care of yourself too. Don't burn yourself out, Carisi."

Sonny sighs deeply, the weariness in his shoulders evident. "Yeah, I know. Sometimes it's hard to remind myself of that, though. There's always so much that needs to be done, it feels like I can never catch a break."

"You gotta make time for yourself, Carisi," Barba says, his voice serious. "You need time to relax, unwind. All work and no play makes Carisi a boring boy."

A snort escapes Sonny as he laughs at Barba's comment. "Yeah, yeah, I get it. I promise, I'll try to squeeze in some R&R whenever I can." Despite the fatigue, a small smile tugs at the corner of his lips.

Barba grins, raising his glass in a mock toast. "That's the spirit. Take it from me, a little bit of self-care goes a long way."

Sonny lifts his glass, clinking it against Barba's in response. "I'll drink to that." He takes a long swig, the cold beer sending a shiver of relief through his exhausted body. They fall into a comfortable silence, both men sipping on their drinks, lost in their thoughts. The hustle and bustle of the bar blends into a soothing background noise, providing the perfect backdrop for the momentary escape from their respective stresses.

After a few quiet moments, Sonny breaks the silence, his voice thoughtful. "Hey, can I ask you something, Barba?"

Barba glances over, raising a curious eyebrow. "Of course, what's on your mind?"

Sonny takes a deep breath, a hint of uncertainty in his blue eyes. "How did you juggle it all when you were a prosecutor? The SVU cases, your love life, law school...how did you manage all of it without losing your mind?"

Barba leans back in his stool, contemplating Sonny's question. "It wasn't easy, I'll tell you that much," he admits. "There were times when I felt like I was drowning, like there was no way to keep up with it all. But ultimately, I just had to prioritize. Some days, it meant sacrificing sleep to finish a case. Other days, it meant pushing aside my personal life in order to keep up with schoolwork."

Barba pauses, swirling his drink thoughtfully. "But you know what helped me? Taking those occasional breaths, those moments to step back and re-center. A quick drink with a friend, a good meal, a night in bed with someone..." He laughs softly at himself, the memory evident in his eyes.

"Sounds like I could use some of those tonight," Sonny mutters, taking another swig of his beer. "I just feel like I'm running on empty, you know? I want to be there for my friends, my family, the people I care about, but I'm always so damn tired..."

Barba gives him a sympathetic nod. "I get it, Carisi, I do. But burnout won't help anyone, least of all yourself. You need to learn to balance, to find those moments that make it all worth it. Otherwise, you'll end up like me - grumpy and exhausted all the time." He grins wryly, giving Sonny a playful nudge. Sonny snorts out a laugh despite his tiredness. The corners of his mouth quirk into a tired smile.

"I guess you're right," Sonny admits, running a hand through his already disheveled hair. "I just need to learn to take a break sometimes without feeling guilty about it."\

"Exactly," Barba agrees. "And maybe, just maybe, you could even consider using that time to meet someone." He smirks as he teases Sonny, raising an eyebrow.

Sonny groans, rolling his eyes. "You're relentless, you know that?"

"You love me for it," Barba teases, his smirk widening. He takes a sip of his drink, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

"Debatable," Sonny mutters, but there's no heat behind his words. He cracks a small smile, the light banter with Barba managing to lift his spirits slightly.

"You know I'm right," Barba laughs, lightly patting Sonny on the back. "You could use a little romance in your life, Carisi. Maybe it's time to ditch the textbooks and pick up a date."

Sonny groans again, leaning his head back in exaggerated exhaustion. But there's a hint of amusement in his eyes. "Are you volunteering for the job, Barba? Because I didn't know you swung that way."

Barba laughs heartily at Sonny's joke. "Cute," he says, clearly amused. The banter continues for a few moments, the easy conversation and friendly teasing providing a nice distraction from the day's stress. As Barba orders another round, Sonny relaxes further, the weight of the day seeming to lift from his shoulders, even if just temporarily.

As they continue their conversation, Sonny suddenly remembers something. He turns to Barba, a hint of mischief in his eyes. "Speaking of finding someone, there is a girl… She lives across the hall from me, we met doing laundry together one night and I found her again at a coffee shop she owns.”

Barba raises an intrigued eyebrow. "Oh, really? And why have you not asked her out yet?"

Sonny shrugs, taking a long pull of his beer. "I don't know, I've been so busy with work and law school… I guess it just slipped my mind," he admits, sounding slightly sheepish.

Barba laughs, shaking his head in disbelief. "You're a grown man, Carisi. You're a detective, and you're scared of asking someone out?"

Sonny sighs, running a hand through his hair again. "Yeah, I know. It's stupid. I just don't want to come on too strong, you know? Plus, I've been so busy with work and classes... I don't know if I have the time for a relationship right now."

"Excuses," Barba says with a dismissive wave of his hand. "You need to stop over-thinking it, Carisi. Just go for it. Ask her out, and see where it goes. You never know, it could be great. You're not getting any younger, you know."

"Thanks for the reminder, Barba," Sonny mutters, his tone sarcastic but lacking bite. He leans back in his stool, mulling over Barba's words. "You really think I should do it?"

"Absolutely," Barba says with conviction. "What do you have to lose? Worst case scenario, she says no, and you move on. But you'll never know unless you ask. Now tell me about her, what's she like?" Barba asks.

Sonny's eyes light up a bit as he thinks about you. "She's..." he pauses, searching for the right words. "She's witty, and sweet. She runs a coffee shop, and she makes the best coffee I've ever had. She's just...genuine. And she's got this smile that lights up her whole face, and these eyes that make you feel like the only person in the world..." He trails off, realizing he's gushing a bit.

Barba grins, clearly amused by Sonny's smitten expression. "You're crushing hard, Carisi. It's adorable."

Sonny rolls his eyes, a slight blush creeping up his neck. "Shut up," he mutters, but he can't hide the smile that tugs at the corner of his mouth.

"Don't be embarrassed," Barba says, still grinning. "It's nice to see you happy about something that isn't work-related."

"Yeah, yeah, laugh it up," Sonny replies, taking a swig of his beer.

As the night goes on, the conversation becomes more loose, the alcohol helping to relax both men. Sonny has finished most of his beer, and he leans back in his stool, a lazy smile on his face. With the evening drawing to a close, Sonny and Barba decide to call it a night. As they stand outside the bar, sharing a last laugh, Sonny takes out his phone to call an Uber.

"I'll see you some other time, Barba," Sonny says, clapping his friend on the shoulder. "Thanks for the advice and the drinks."

Barba grins, looking like he’s about to make another jab at Sonny’s love life but thinking better of it. "Anytime, just remember what I said, alright?" 

Sonny laughs, shaking his head. "Yeah, yeah, I got it." With that, he turns to catch his Uber, waving goodbye to Barba before climbing into the car. As the car pulls away, Sonny leans back in his seat, a contented smile on his lips. The buzz of the alcohol and the conversation with Barba have left him feeling lighter than he has in weeks. The ride passes quickly and soon, Sonny’s Uber pulls up in front of his building. As he steps out of the car, he glances up at the building, his eyes involuntarily moving to the window of your apartment. He won’t ask you about it now that he’s been drinking, but he’ll keep it in his mind to ask you later.

✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦

Sonny allows himself to sleep in on his day off, his head killing him for drinking a little too much yesterday. He rolls over in bed and slowly wakes as the sun peaks through the blinds. Yawning, he stretches his arms overhead before getting out of bed and heading to the kitchen to brew a pot of coffee. As the weekend vibes gradually set in, he realizes he hasn't been able to connect with you much in the past week, communicating mostly through text messages.

Seated at his kitchen table, he sips his coffee after taking an asprin and checks his phone. Once finished, he sets out to run errands - stocking up on groceries and picking up dry cleaning. Though the mundane tasks help occupy his mind, his thoughts constantly drift to you, wondering what you might be doing.

S: Hey, I've got the day off, Any chance you'd like to go for a walk in the park with me? Completely no pressure if you can't. He sets his phone aside as he settles onto the couch. He clicks on the television, idly flipping through channels while anticipating your response.

Y: Hell yeah, I'm down for a park walk. I'm free right now, actually, just got off my shift.

As soon as Sonny saw your response, his smile appeared.

S: Great, let's meet at the entrance to the City Hall park in 20 minutes.

Y: Alright see you soon. :)

Sonny arrived at the park gate 10 minutes early and found a spot to wait. Leaning against the fence, he takes in the sights and sounds of the park, the fallen orange and red leaves swept into piles, and the laughter and conversations of passersby. He can’t help but feel a twinge of nervousness as he waits for you to arrive. Suddenly, he hears footsteps approaching and sees a figure coming toward him. His heart skipped a beat as you came into view. You were wearing casual clothing, you looked nice.

With a gentle smile, he greets you, "Glad you could make it." He approaches the park entrance, offers his arm, and asks, "Shall we?"

With a warm smile, you accept his proffered arm and express your gratitude, saying, "Thank you for the invitation."

As the morning approached noon, you and Sonny continued down the path into the park, heading towards the large central fountain. The buildings encircling the park rose impressively around it. While there were people present, the crowds were moderate and not overwhelming. 

"So, uh..." he starts, clearing his throat. "How long have you worked at the coffee shop?"

"I've been running the coffee shop for about three years," you explain, a small smile playing on your lips. "The previous owner, an old friend of mine, passed it down to me. We go way back - we went to school together and have known each other forever. She wanted to travel more, so she asked if I'd be willing to take over the shop."

You glance up at Sonny. "Then, while in the UK, she met someone and decided to stay. I don’t mind at all - I really enjoy working there. It may not be the most glamorous job, but I like it." Sonny listens intently as you speak, his eyes never leaving your face. He can hear the passion in your voice as you describe the coffee shop, it’s clear you love what you do.

"That’s nice of your friend to let you have the place, I’m glad you enjoy it. Plus, being surrounded by coffee all day sounds pretty great to me," he jokes. "And, you get to meet lots of interesting customers, right?"

"Oh, yeah. Interesting is definitely one word for them," you reply with a laugh. "There's a whole range—from the regular early morning rush crowd who are practically zombies until they've had their caffeine fix, to the lunch bunch who come in for a quick pick-me-up. And then there's the college kids who practically live there."

"And which group am I part of?" he asks.

You eye him up and down, a mischievous smile grows on your face. "Hmmm... well," you drawl out, "you're a bit of a hybrid, I reckon. You frequent the morning rush hours and you've got that distinct 'I work too much' look in your eyes.”

He can’t help but smile at your observant assessment. "You've got me all sorted, huh?" he asks, feigning indignation. "So I'm a caffeine-needing workaholic? Is that what you're saying?"

"Pretty much." You laugh before adding, "But don't worry, you're a nice workaholic. You always remember your 'please's and 'thank you's, and you always look genuinely happy to see me. That earns you serious brownie points."

Sonny's heart skips a beat at your words. "Good to know I'm not just another grumpy customer," he teases. "And...for the record, I genuinely am happy to see you. Not just for the coffee." The words are out of his mouth before he can stop them. He hopes you don't read too much into them. He steals a glance at you and catches you smiling. It's small, but it's there, a barely-there upturn of the corner of your mouth that sends a thrill down his spine.

"What about you?" you ask, breaking him out of his thoughts. "What do you do? I mean, besides drink a lot of coffee." you tease.

He chortles at your light tease, "well, besides being a caffeine-needing workaholic, I'm also a detective for Special Victims," he replies with a small chuckle. "So yeah, I'd say I have decent reason to need a lot of coffee on a regular basis."

"Special Victims Unit?" you repeat, an eyebrow lifting in question. "Wow, that sounds pretty serious. So you deal with some pretty tough stuff, huh?"

He sighs, the weight of his job suddenly feeling heavy again. "Yeah, you could say that. I work with a team that deals with the worst kinds of cases you could imagine..." He trails off, not wanting to reveal too much, not wanting to scare you off with the dark realities of his work. "It's not all doom and gloom, though. I've seen some pretty horrific stuff... but I've also seen justice served, seen people helped, seen bad guys taken down. Makes the late nights and endless paperwork worth it.”

Your gaze softens at his words, a hint of respect in your expression. "Sounds like you really care about what you do," you remark, your voice softer than before. 

He rubs the back of his neck, a small hint of vulnerability in his actions. "Yeah, I do," he admits. "Sometimes I think I care too much. But I guess that's how it is with this job. It gets under your skin, you know?" You nod, understandingly.

As the two of you continue your walk, Sonny spots a food cart up ahead. The smell of pretzels wafts through the air, making his stomach rumble in response. Before he even knows what he's doing, he turns to you. "Hey, you hungry?"

“Oooh yes, that sounds delicious.” You grin.

He smiles, "good because I'm starving," he says, approaching the cart. He buys two pretzels, handing one to you before taking a large bite of his own. "Mmmm," he moans around a mouthful of pretzel, "nothing beats a good street pretzel." he chews, looking very much like a kid in a candy store.

He glances at you, seeing you take a bite out of your pretzel. He watches as you savor the taste, a satisfied smile on your lips. He takes another bite of his pretzel, watching as a small smear of salt sticks to your lip. He wants to reach out, to brush it off with his thumb, but he stops himself, holding back the urge. 

Instead, he opts for trying to make lighthearted conversation. "So, tell me something else about yourself. Something you're passionate about," he asks, taking another bite. He watches as you consider his question, the way your brow furrows slightly as you think. He can tell you're thinking deeply about his question and that small detail about you makes his heart flutter a little faster.

You bite your lip, "Hmm..." you hum in thought. "I'd have to say I'm pretty passionate about music. I love going to concerts, especially smaller local bands. It's something about live music that just... gets to me,"

He nods, a small smile on his lips. "Yeah, I know exactly what you mean," he agrees. "There's something about live music that's... magical. The energy in the room, the way the crowd gets caught up in the music... it's pretty special.“

"Exactly," you say, a twinkle in your eye. "And if it's a really good show, it feels like the whole world stops for a moment, and it's just you and the music. There's nothing else like it." He loves seeing you talk about something you're sincere about, the way your eyes light up, the way your voice gets a touch more animated.

"What about you?" you ask, turning the question back towards him. "What are you passionate about, besides caffeine, of course." you tease.

He laughs, a genuine sound that comes from deep within his chest. "You got me there," he concedes. "But I'm passionate about a lot of things. My family, my work, my friends... music, movies, good food... life, I guess." He scratches his jaw, a thoughtful look on his face. "I like experiencing new things, exploring new places, trying new foods..." He looks over at you, a flicker of something undefinable in his gaze. "New people."

He risks a glance at you, anticipating a perplexed or even alarmed look on your face, but instead, he's met with a small smirk playing on your lips. "New people, huh?" you say, your voice laced with amusement.

He swallows, suddenly feeling a little flustered. But there's something about the way you're looking at him that encourages him to continue. "Yeah, new people," he repeats, his voice a little huskier than before.

"And why is that?" you ask, your tone playful but your eyes holding a hint of something more.

He shrugs, feigning nonchalance. "I don't know," he says, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "I guess there's just something... exciting about meeting someone new. The mystery, the unexpected." He meets your gaze, his eyes holding a hint of intrigue. He takes a step closer to you, the small distance between you suddenly feeling electric. "New people... they have stories to tell, experiences to share," he says, his voice dropping to a whisper. "They have quirks, habits, secrets... things that make them unique." He's acutely aware of how close he is to you now, the proximity making his heart race. He can feel the heat emanating from your body, the smell of you filling his senses. He swallows, trying to find his voice again. "I guess I like the challenge of getting to know someone new," he confesses, his eyes never leaving yours.

"The challenge, huh?" You repeat, a small smile still on your lips. "And do you think I'm a challenge, detective?"

He chuckles, the sound low and slightly breathless. "Maybe a bit," he admits. "But I like a good challenge," he adds.

"Well, I hope I'm worth the effort, then," you say, a hint of daring in your voice.

He steps even closer to you, the space between you almost negligible now. He looks down at you, his gaze intense. "You're definitely worth the effort," he murmurs, his voice quiet but filled with conviction.

Sonny jolts slightly at the sound of his phone, the sudden noise jarring him back to reality. He fumbles in his pocket, pulls out his phone, and glances at the screen. The smile that had been on his face moments before quickly falls, replaced by a look of concern.

He looks up at you, an apologetic look in his eyes. "I'm sorry," he says, the remorse evident in his voice. "It's work. I have to take this."

Rollins called to inform him that two young girls had gone missing and another had been found stabbed. She apologized for contacting him on his day off but requested his assistance, which would be greatly appreciated. Sonny listens to Amanda’s report, his heart sinking in his chest at the news. "On my way," he replies, his voice all business. He hangs up the phone, turning back to you with a look of regret.

He sighs, running a hand through his hair. "I need to go," he says, a hint of disappointment in his voice. "Sorry to cut things short, but I have to head into the station for a case."

"It's alright," you say, understanding in your eyes. "Work comes first, I get it. Go, do your thing, hero." A small, teasing smile dances on your lips at the teasing.

He can't help but chuckle at your playful comment. "Hero, huh?" he repeats, "I don't know about that. I'm just doing my job."

"Hey, don't sell yourself short," you chastise, your tone light. "Anyone who helps catch scumbags gets to be called a hero, in my book."

He smiles at your words, your faith in him making his chest puff out a little. "Well, I'll do my best to live up to the title, then," he replies, a hint of cockiness in his tone.

"I'm sure you will." You step closer to him, your hand coming to rest on his forearm. "Just be careful, okay?" Your touch is gentle but firm, your concern for him clear.

The feel of your hand on his arm warms him from the inside out. He covers your hand with his own, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "Don't worry, I will," he assures you, his voice gruff but sincere.

"Text me when you finish, okay?" you request, your eyes locking with his. "So I know you're safe."

He nods, touched by your concern. "I will," he promises, the truth of his words reflected in his gaze. "I'll text you as soon as I can. Have a good day, okay?” He calls as he walks away from you.

જ⁀➴જ⁀➴જ⁀➴

When Sonny arrives at the crime scene in Inwood Hill Park, he finds Detective Rollins already canvassing the area. As Sonny approaches, he begins to pick up on the details Rollins is relaying.

"A birdwatcher found her? How young is the girl?" Amanda asks. The officer informed them that the victim was around 10, had no ID on her, and had suffered head trauma, and multiple stab wounds, and her clothes were torn.

Sonny's first thought was to check for any Amber alerts matching the girl's description, but the cop immediately confirmed there were none. 

Undeterred, Sonny planned to continue interviewing witnesses in case they had seen something that could help.

 Meanwhile, Amanda informs Sonny that she’ll ride in the ambulance to the hospital, so she’s there when the child regains consciousness. As he walks over to a witness he asks the cop if there are any homeless. The officer confirmed that there were a few known around the area. Sonny directs the officer to round them up and bring them in for questioning, hoping one of them might have seen something useful. He closes in on a middle-aged lady with red hair and a set of binoculars around her neck.

"Hi, Can you--can you tell me what you saw, ma'am?"

Trembling, the woman describes the man's hulking, vulture-like frame as he loomed over the girl's body. Gripping her binoculars, she managed to capture photos of the man.  Sonny gets the phones and distributes the pictures to the other detectives and local precincts, hoping someone might recognize the man. He tries not to bring in the Sergent from what he learned, today is her one day off out of the week as well, even though he’s working his, he needed the overtime so he couldn’t really complain, he just felt bad for leaving you.

Amaro texted the results from the doctor's examination: the victim had suffered head trauma and a stab wound just millimeters from the femoral artery, but there were no visible signs of sexual assault. They were currently awaiting the victim's consent to conduct a rape kit.

Sonny sighed, rubbing his eyes in frustration as he slid behind the wheel of his car. 

⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆

Perry Gilbert was the young girl who was found stabbed.

The identification of the two missing girls was also discovered

 Mia Harris  Perry Gilbert

   5’3                                        5’0’’

   12                                         13

Red Hair Dark Hair

Blue Eyes                                 Blue Eyes

Amanda informed Sonny after she regrouped with him, that Benson came in and joined her and Amaro at the hospital as they interviewed Zoe. Amanda told him that it was Perry and Mia's idea to head to the park since it was Halloween and they wanted to catch something scary on the cameras. But their excitement soon turned to fear when they spotted an ominous figure, That's when they were screaming for Zoe to run. According to Zoe, the mysterious "Glasgowman"  overpowered her and knocked her to the ground.

Sonny listens intently, a frown on his face as he absorbs the details. "Glasgowman?" he questions, raising an eyebrow. "who the hell is Glasgowman?" Amanda shrugged, equally as perplexed.

The cadets, auxiliary, scouts, and any officer who showed up, gathered for the debriefing and expanded the search, bringing in scent dogs. the blurry photos captured by the birdwatcher binoculars and police sketch were passed around the search team. After concluding with the meeting everyone fanned out and started from the north side of the woods.

Ultimately, it was Sonny who spotted something, prompting Amanda to rush over and pick it up - Zoe's child-sized backpack. The cadets notified the other detectives, believing they had found evidence near the Indian Caves. After handing the backpack to a younger detective telling them to get it to CSU, Amanda and Sonny hurried closer to the caves.

The cop has already drawn his weapon, despite not knowing if the person inside the cave was armed. Sonny rolls his eyes at the officer's carelessness. Amanda steps forward and tells the cop they want the man inside the cave to be taken alive. The cop then switched to a tazer. Amanda tried coaxing the man out of the cave, but the moment he exited, the cop tased him and did not stop, letting the man convulse. Sonny intervened, telling the cop to stop. Amanda then approached and handcuffed the man.

Glasgowman is discovered as a 36-year-old man named Charlie Dorsey, who is a mental patient and repeat offender off his medication.

She and Sonny bring him back to the precinct to ask him some questions.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

A few days later, you were working your shift with your close friend and skilled barista, Alex. Together, you prepared delicious iced coffees and other specialty drinks. As the clock sluggishly ticked, the day appeared motionless. Customers came in waves - periods of slow activity would suddenly give way to a flurry of orders, filling the screens with coffee requests. In the lulls, you restocked the two under-counter fridges, checked codes and temps, and wiped down the surfaces, preparing for the next rush.

Alex glances up from the drink he was preparing, a playful smile on his face. "Hey, you seem a bit distracted today," he teases. "Anything on your mind?" His glasses accentuated his mischievous hazel eyes.

"Is it that obvious?" You joke.

Alex chuckles. "You've been restocking that fridge for quite a while now. Is there something on your mind you'd like to discuss?”

You laugh softly, realizing you have been restocking longer than needed. You turn to Alex. "It's not a big deal," you begin, "It's about a guy."

Alex's eyes widened with excitement. "Ooh, a guy? Do tell," he urges, resting his chin on his hand and looking at you expectantly.

You take a deep breath, feeling your cheeks heating up slightly. "Well, we met two months ago," you start, trying to keep your voice casual despite the butterflies in your stomach. "It's nothing serious right now, we haven't been able to hang out with his work and this place, but I think I might like him."

Alex grins widely. "Sounds like you've got yourself a crush," he teases, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "Is he cute at least?"

A small, involuntary smile creeps onto your face. "Yeah, he is," you confess, your voice tinged with affection. "He's got these blue eyes that just... draw you in. And his smile..." You trail off, lost in the memory of the way his smile could light up a room.

Alex watches your face light up as you speak, recognizing the signs of someone head over heels. "Looks like you've got it bad," he comments with a smile. "What's his name?"

"Dominick, he's a detective," you explain, the words sounding surreal as they leave your mouth. "So his hours are all over the place. Some days he's working into the wee hours of the morning, others he'll get a call in the middle of dinner. And it's not just late nights, either. Sometimes he gets called in on his days off, too."

Alex's eyebrows shoot up in surprise. "A detective? That's kinda sexy," he says with a coy smirk. "He's all serious and dedicated to his job, huh?"

You can’t help but laugh at Alex's comment. "He is," you agree, the image of him working late into the night popping into your mind. "Dedicated to a fault, sometimes. He'll work himself into the ground if someone doesn't force him to take a break."

Alex chuckles and nods in understanding. "It sounds like he's got that workaholic mentality," he observes. “Maybe he needs someone to remind him to stop and smell the coffee once in a while."

You laugh, feeling a pang in your chest as you think about how true that statement is. "Yeah," you agree, a hint of a bittersweet melancholy in your voice. "He's been through a lot in his line of work. The weight on his shoulders... It's a lot. But somehow, he always manages to carry it with this resilience that's admirable."

The bell over the door chimes, indicating more customers, you and Alex wash your hands before putting on your gloves as you wait for them to order.

The customers came in and started rattling off their complicated orders, some wanting nonfat milk foamed extra hot, others requesting decaf espresso, and the orders seemed to go on and on. You and Alex work diligently, keeping up with the demand and making sure each drink was made to perfection. After the long line of customers finally dwindled, you and Alex share a glance, both of you weary from the rush. 

"That was intense," you remark, removing your gloves and resting your hands on the counter.

"No kidding," Alex agreed, letting out a long sigh. "I swear, some people act like the fate of the world rests on the coffee we make them."

You laugh at his comment. "I think if they didn't have their caffeine fix, the world might actually end for some of them."

"Good point," Alex concedes, a cheeky grin on his face. "We’re saving the world, one espresso at a time."

Just as you were about to continue the banter, the bell over the door chimes again, signaling more customers. You and Alex share exasperated glances before plastering on polite smiles and preparing to serve the newcomers.

As you were in the middle of making a macchiato, you notice Sonny walking through the doors of the shop. A mixture of surprise and happiness filled your chest, your heart fluttering at the sight of him. You glance up to see that he is scanning the cafe, eyes searching for you. You try to focus on the task at hand, finishing off the foam on the drink before passing it to the customer with a smile. He looks tired, with dark shadows under his eyes and a weary frown etched onto his face. You wanted to rush over to him, wrap your arms around him, and ask what was wrong. But you were busy handling the line of customers, and you can’t leave Alex to face the caffeine-craving crowd alone.

So you settle for a small wave and a warm smile, hoping he’d understand that you are glad to see him, even though you can’t spare much attention right now. He nods and gives you a tired smile, clearly not wanting to distract you from work. Nevertheless, just seeing his face gave you a renewed energy, making the rest of the shift feel slightly more bearable. Whenever there was a rare moment without a customer, you stole glances at him, noticing the way he quietly leaned against a table, his eyes closing momentarily, and a sigh leaving his lips. He looked exhausted.

While working on finishing an Iced Chai, you lean over to Alex and nudge his shoulder. "There, the guy sitting by himself, that's him, that's Sonny."

Alex glances over your shoulder to where you were gesturing. "The exhausted-looking one over there?" he asks, raising an eyebrow in confusion. "That's the guy you've been pining over?"

You smack his arm playfully. "Hey, don't be rude. He's just tired, he's had a long few days of work," you defend, feeling a pang of protectiveness toward Sonny.

Alex chuckles and holds his hands up in mock surrender. "Okay, okay, I get it. He's your knight in shining armor." He gives you a sly smile. "But he also kinda looks like he might pass out any minute now."

You bite your lip, worry gnawing at you again. "I know," you sigh, taking a quick look at Sonny who is now rubbing his eyes. "I just wish I could go over there and make sure he's okay."

"Don't you get a break soon?" Alex asks, his tone a little softer now. "Maybe you can go over and talk to him then."

"Yeah, Vinny, is supposed to clock in about five minutes, then at six we get Martha," You inform Alex. 

He waves you off, "Go now, I can handle it, besides the crowd seemed to die down, I can handle five minutes alone."

"Are you sure?" You ask.

Alex shooed you with a grin. "Don't worry about me, I can handle a couple of coffee addicts by myself for a bit." He jokingly pats your head. "Go take care of your detective."

With Alex's reassurance, you take a glance at the mostly empty cafe before making your way over to Sonny. He hadn't moved from his spot, still looking worn out as he leaned against the wall with his eyes closed.

You approach him and place a hand gently on his shoulder, trying not to startle him. "Hey," you say quietly, your voice soft. "You look wiped out."

He looks up, surprise in his eyes for a moment before he recognizes you. "Hey," he replies, his voice rough with fatigue. He attempts a weak smile. "That obvious, huh?" Sonny blinks, bringing his attention to you, a weary smile appearing on his face as he looks at you. "Hey," he greets, his voice raspy from exhaustion. "Yeah, I'm exhausted. It's been a long week, to say the least."

You take a seat beside him, your concern deepening as you notice the shadows under his eyes and the fatigue etched on his face. "I can tell," you comment, studying his tired features. "Have you been getting any sleep at all?"

“Between these cases and the night classes twice a week at Fordham, not much…”

You frown at his confession, your worry only mounting. "Sonny, you can't keep pushing yourself like this," you say gently but firmly. "You need rest. You're going to burn yourself out at this rate."

He manages a weary chuckle, shaking his head slightly. "You sound like Rollins and my Lieutenant," he says with a hint of a laugh in his voice. "They've been on my case about taking care of myself too."

You nudge him softly, a small smile tugging at the corner of your lips. "Well, maybe Rollins and your Lieutenant are onto something," you retort, trying to lighten the mood. "You need someone to nag you, obviously."

He chuckles again, a tired but genuine smile forming on his face. "You volunteering for the job?" he teases, his eyes meeting yours.

You pretend to think for a moment before smiling mischievously at him. "Maybe. Someone’s gotta keep you on your toes, after all. When’s the last time you ate?"

He ponders for a moment, his tired brain struggling to recall. "I had breakfast this morning," he replies, running a hand through his messy hair. "I think... I can't really remember, to be honest."

"C'mon let me make you something, and no, no pastries. I mean actual food."

He looks at you, his eyes weary but filled with tenderness. "You don't have to, I don't want to add more work for you and your friends," he protests, looking up at Alex behind the counter and talking to Vinny. Sonny gives them both a small wave.

"Don't you dare start that 'I don't want to inconvenience you' speech," you say sternly, making eye contact to emphasize your point. "I'm making you something and that's final. How about a grilled cheese to hold you over until my shift ends in 20 minutes, Then we can have dinner at mine.”

Sonny's stomach grumbles, betraying his protest. He chuckles lightly, nodding in defeat. "Okay, doll, you win," he relents with a small smile. "A grilled cheese sounds pretty good right now."

You give him a victorious grin and get up from your spot, making your way behind the counter. You quickly whipped up two grilled cheese sandwiches, using fresh sourdough bread and slices of provolone cheese. The aroma of melted cheese fills the air as you cook the sandwich on the pan, the golden brown exterior crisping perfectly.

Alex and Vinny sneak up behind you, a duo of cheekiness and mischief. 

"Aww, look at you, playing waitress for your man," Alex teases, a grin on his face.

Vinny chimes in, a sly smirk forming on his lips. "Should we expect wedding invites soon, huh?"

You roll your eyes, amused and slightly embarrassed at their playful jibes. "Shut up, you two," you retort, trying to sound stern while fighting a smile. "It's just a grilled cheese, alright?" Alex and Vinny exchange a conspiratorial look, still smirking.

"Just a grilled cheese, huh?" Alex repeats, a playful lilt to his tone. "And I bet you're serving it on your finest china with a side of homemade soup."

Vinny snickers, joining in on the banter. "Yeah, and maybe some candlelight and some smooth jazz in the background?"

You laugh, shaking your head at their relentless joking. "You two are insufferable, you know that?" you respond, feigning annoyance, though your smile gives you away. "No, no candlelight or smooth jazz. Just a grilled cheese on a normal plate." They both feign disappointment, a dramatic sigh escaping both of their lips. 

“Aww, no romantic atmosphere? No fancy presentation?" Alex asks dramatically, hand over his heart.

Vinny joins in, pouting overdramatically, "Where's the showmanship? The pizazz?"

You laugh louder now, their antics lightening the mood. "Oh, sorry to disappoint, guys," you retort, handing the sandwich to the waiting Sonny. "Next time I'll go all out with the silver service, a string quartet, and maybe hire a couple of gondoliers to serenade us as well." They both nod appreciatively, pretending to be satisfied.

Alex grins, "Now that's more like it."

Vinny agrees, "Yeah, we'll hold you to that. We expect nothing less for your next date."

You roll your eyes once more, shaking your head. "Duly noted, gentlemen. I'll be sure to consult you both for all future romantic endeavors," you reply dryly, though you can't help but be amused by their relentless teasing.

You carry the tray of food over to where Sonny is sitting, placing it down on the table in front of him. A grin forms on his face as he sees the grilled cheese, a mixture of hunger and appreciation in his tired eyes.

"You're a lifesaver," he comments, reaching for his sandwich and taking a large bite. His expression lights up as he savors the taste.

You settle down beside him and start eating your sandwich, enjoying the peaceful moment. You notice the weariness starting to fade from Sonny's face as he eats.

"Feeling better?" you ask, looking at him with a soft smile.

Sonny nods, wiping his mouth with a napkin before replying. "Yeah, I am. This is exactly what I needed," he says, a content smile on his face. "Your grilled cheeses are magic, you know that?"

You giggle at the comment, feeling a warm sense of satisfaction. "I don't know about magic. Maybe it's just a secret ingredient called love," you tease, winking at him.

You hear the bell above the door go off and you see Martha, an older lady, who is basically the mom figure you all needed to keep you in check, arrive. You made sure to greet her and ask her how she was doing. You watched as she walked into the back, feeling watched your eyes moved to behind the counter to see Alex and Vinny staring at you and Sonny. They're whispering and giggling to each other, their glances between you and Sonny clearly directed. You roll your eyes, knowing full well what they were up to. You could practically hear the gears turning in their heads, concocting some new teasing material.

"Is she you're replacement?" Sonny asks, and you nod with a smile.

"Yeah, that's Martha," you confirm, turning back to Sonny. "She's the unofficial 'mom' around here. She keeps us in line and makes sure we're all staying sane and functioning."

Sonny looks over at Martha, watching as she hums to herself while organizing something behind the counter. "Looks like she takes her job seriously," he comments with a small, tired smile.

You nod in agreement. "She does," you reply, a fond expression on your face. "She's the glue that holds us all together. And she knows exactly how to handle these two," you add, gesturing to Alex and Vinny who were still peering at you from behind the counter. "She's all about making sure we eat, get enough sleep, and don't work ourselves too hard. Which means she's going to be all over your case soon," you add with a wink.

Sonny chuckles, though it's obvious that the sleep deprivation is getting to him. "Great, another person to nag me about getting some shut-eye," he quips, the playful edge in his voice slightly diminished by his fatigue.

"You ready to head home before you fall asleep in my shop?"

Sonny nods, a weary but grateful expression on his face. "Yeah," he says, the exhaustion evident in his voice. "Lead the way."

You gather your belongings and bid farewell to Alex and Vinny, who, of course, cannot help themselves and start making lovey-dovey faces and noises. You roll your eyes good-naturedly. Make sure to thank Martha for coming in and to call if she needs anything until closing.

After the goodbyes, you gather your belongings from the back and then lead Sonny out of the café. The cold air hits your face, a crisp autumn breeze sending a shiver down your spine.

"Cold?" Sonny asks, noticing your shiver. Before you can answer, he slips his suit jacket off and wraps it over your shoulders, pulling it to fit snugly around you.

"A little," you admit, the warmth of his jacket immediately enveloping you. You pull it tighter around yourself, breathing in the subtle scent of Sonny's aftershave that clung to the fabric. "Thanks."

The two of you walked back to the apartments. The walk back is relatively peaceful, the city noise a hushed background as the two of you walk together. 

Masterlist

[trueshellz]

Warnings: female reader, pet names used (princess, babe), spanking threatened, swearing protective Bakugou, pregnancy, food cravings, puking mentioned, pouty reader (I have baby fever for some reason, idk why)

Set in the same timeline as THIS and THIS

Waking up in the morning determined to eat something to satisfy your pregnancy cravings since being sick all the time was starting to piss you off, you were adamant that there was something in the house that you could eat without taking an immediate trip to the bathroom.

Except there wasn't.

And Katsuki comes home to find you curled up on that sofa with a huge pout, surrounded by tissues because you'd been watching a sad film and a pile by take out menus on your lap. You were sat in one of his huge t-shirts, it barely covered your legs, and some fluffy socks with Dynamight logo on them that you bought (read: stole) from the official merchandise at his office.

"What the fuck?"

"Katsuki!" You turned and jutted out your bottom lip, exaggerating the pout even more. "I'm hungry, but there's nothing to eat."

After putting the heavy and dangerous parts of his hero costume away, planting a soft kiss on your head and then your protruding tummy, he walks over to the fridge shaking his head in amusement.

"I'll make ya somethin', we went shopping yesterday so the fridge has... absolutely nothing." He turns to you, confused as heck with a frown on his face. "What the fuck, princess?"

"Everything in the fridge was making me puke so I chucked it all away."

Pulling out the two items you had left, cheese and some apples, he held them up with a shake of his head. "Do we have mice?"

"No. The baby wanted them."

Returning them to the shelf, Katsuki came around the sofa and sat behind you with his legs bracketing yours. His hands resting on your stomach as he turned the TV off.

"How's about... we get out the house and I'll drive ya around until ya find somethin' ya want?"

"Really?

"Yup. We'll stop outside each restaurant and ya can sniff away like a bloodhound."

The bloodhound comment got him a smack on his thick thighs, but he chuckled anyway before tickling you back in retaliation until you threatened to pee on him. After getting showered and dressed, he helped you into his truck and strapped you in, driving down into town and stopping outside each one. His car was stocked with mints, water and some bags in case you did hurl, but he patiently drove you around until you finally settled on one place that didn't make your stomach turn.

"This one!"

"Yeah? Lemme park u- don't you dare get out the car."

"But... food."

"But, nothing. Don't think I won't pop that ass if ya get out the car without me."

Ignoring your huff of annoyance, he parked up and came around to help you out of his behemoth of a truck, holding your hand as you sniffed again walking into the restaurant. Stopping in the middle when a waiter walked by with a plate of something that made your mouth water in a good way.

"I want that."

A chuckle leaving his mouth as he guided you to a table in the corner, settling you down with a quick peck to your temple before going over the bar and asking them what had been ordered. You could see the person behind the counter look at you, understanding on their face, as they rung your order up.

"It'll be over in a bit, babe. You want water or soda to drink?"

"Coffee?"

"You had one this morning, no more caffeine. It upsets your stomach and then you can't sleep."

"But-"

"Princess, ya know I'm right."

A sigh as he watched you with a raised brow. "Fine. But we're eating here for dinner every day until the foreseeable future... or the baby changes their mind."

"Duh. I've reserved this table too."

[starrybethany]

I’m Sure - Adam Boqvist Imagine Part 1

Word count: 3.3K

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

I heard about Adam before I met him. The guys had hung around my office, claiming they wanted to catch up with me, but I really know it’s just because they want to gossip. Hockey players are like that. We were catching up on how their summers went.

“Hey, did you see who was drafted, Y/N?” Dylan asks, wandering around the small room and staring at various objects.

“Nope,” I pop the ‘p’, scanning over the email recently sent to me. “Who was it?”

“This Swedish kids with sick hands,” Alex gushes.

“Really? Is he gonna be the next Patty Kane?”

“Please, like anyone could be like Showtime,” he scoffs.

Dylan pulled up some videos of his highlights, showing them to me.

I nod in approval. “Looks like hockey.”

They give me unamused looks.

We’ve had this talk plenty of times- they think that since I work at the United Center, I should understand hockey more, I think that since I work for United Center and not for the Blackhawks, it really doesn’t matter.

Adam had spent that season in London with the Knights. I had heard about him sprinkled into conversations here and there but really, I just focused on my work as being the suites advisor and making sure everything went smoothly. It was a great year for bookings, and apparently a great year for him.

Alex tried explaining the kid’s talent to me when we were on a double date with our partners, but I still couldn’t understand hockey that well, so I just smiled and nodded. He let that slip by.

It wasn’t until he was here in Chicago that I got it.

For some reason I had been down at the rink, watching practice take place. He had spent a few weeks with the Hawks- weeks that I had taken off to take care of my boyfriend after his knee surgery- and was sent down to Rockford almost as soon as I had returned.

The boys were really upset that I hadn’t met their new friend, Kirby especially, who was a new addition to our group almost as soon as Dominik introduced him to me.

But then there he was, back on the ice. I squinted my eyes, not remembering a ‘27’ on the team. The last name clicks, and I watch as he flies around on the ice, joking with the guys and passing the puck skillfully.

I got it. I understood then why the boys thought he was so talented and why he was back in the NHL at the mere age of nineteen. He played with confidence and speed, a conscious defenseman- something the boys tell me they’ve been struggling with.

Then I un-got it.

Alex had invited a couple of us over for drinks one night and my boyfriend, as he did often, accompanied me.

“Oh, you guys haven’t met yet,” Alex comments, pouring glasses of wine for all of us. “Y/N, this is Adam, the defenseman we’ve been telling you about. Adam, this is Y/N, she works as a suites advisor for the UC.”

“Nice to meet you,” I reach out, shaking his hand. I thought he was attractive, I won’t lie. From the detailed tattoos to the messy hair, he was just my type. But my boyfriend was sitting right next to me, so that was a line I didn’t want to cross.

It didn’t matter to Adam, though. He winked at me as we shook hands, which I found distasteful, but allowed myself to send him a tight-lipped smile.

“And this is my boyfriend, Steven,” I emphasis, resting my hand on Steven’s thigh.

“Oh yeah,” Alex mutters.

Alex always tended to forget about Steven. In fact, everyone seemed to forget about Steven.

“So, suites’ advisor?” Adam questions, ignoring the man sitting next to me. I could feel my boyfriend freeze up at the clear dismissal.

“Yep.”

“What do you do? Just say hello to all of the rich investors?” By the smirk on his face and the small sip of wine, I can tell the dig is intentional.

He knows there is much more that goes into this job than that, so I don’t know why he’s trying to get under my skin. Especially when we just met.

“Um, no, actually, I schedule who books suites for when, what suites are available, who caters what suite. A lot goes into it, actually,” I send him a fake smile.

His smirk just widens, digging under my skin even more.

Steven and I had left early that night.

~

I ungot it again at the family skate. I’ve never learned how to skate- the guys tried to teach me, but I get frustrated easily so they stopped attempting. I’m stumbling around on the ice by myself, the boys stopping by once and a while to check on me but quickly rushing off to be with their significant others. Steven has work today and we had an argument a few days ago, so I didn’t even bother inviting him to the family skate.

A hard body runs into me from behind, causing me to become unbalanced and hit the boards, catching myself before I fall right onto the ice.

“Ow,” I turn around to glare at the person who pushed me, narrowing my eyes even more when I see the familiar blonde boy and the smirk that he’s always wearing. “What’s your problem, dude?”

“What do you mean?” His accent is thick with his words, making my stomach flutter but the irritation replaces the fluttering quickly.

“You’ve just been rude to me for no reason. What’s up with that?”

He gives me a surprised look, like he didn’t expect me to confront him on it. But I don’t know why he would think that- if you’re going to be a dick, I have a right to call you out on it.

He scoffs quickly, an annoyed expression quickly replacing his surprised one. “You’re overthinking everything.”

I watch as he skates away in annoyance, Kirby replacing his spot next to me.

“You two are close, right?” I question.

He nods.

“Why does he hate me so much?”

He laughs at that and I’m the one who’s shocked now. “Isn’t it obvious? He likes you.”

I give him an unimpressed look. “You’re saying he’s acting like an asshole because he likes me?”

“Hey, I didn’t say it was logical,” he puts his hands up in defense, skating away.

I’ve always thought that was ridiculous. If you like someone, just tell them. And if you don’t, just avoid them. There is no reason that meanness is needed, especially if it’s because you really like that person.

I try to avoid Adam after that.

~

It doesn’t last long. About a week of avoiding him goes by before I find myself out at a bar with him and a few other players. I had just broken up with Steven, discovering that I no longer did my ‘in love’ giggle with him or smiled when I saw his name pop up on my phone.

But just because I fell out of love with him didn’t mean that it didn’t hurt. It hurt. It really hurt. So that’s how I found myself one, two, three, four drinks in at the bar, too drunk to remember what I was saying and too drunk to care about how I might feel the next day.

I went on the dance floor to blow off some steam, swaying along to pop songs and screaming the lyrics.

Arms wind around my waist and I look down at them, spotting a familiar sleeve. I turn around in his arms, careful to not move my hands. I’m worried of what I might do if that happens- even though Steven and I had just broken up, I’ve been touch-deprived for weeks.

“What are you doing, Adam?” I question, leaning closer so that he can hear me.

“You’re single now, right?”

“Yes, but did I give you permission to touch me?” I raise my eyebrows.

He takes a step back with amusement, raising his arms defensively to show me that he’s respecting my boundaries.

Then I can’t help but think: fuck it. After being in a committed relationship for years, why not mess around with some guy I have intense sexual chemistry with? He’s hot, he’s sexy, sure he’s an asshole but I’m sure that confidence would do wonders in bed.

So, I throw myself at him, wrapping my arms around his neck and tangling in his blonde locks as I pull him as close to me as he can get. One of his hands rests on my ass while the other rests on my hip, tugging me closer and closer to him.

He’s staying with Alex and Lyndsey, so we end up at my apartment in my bedroom. And when I wake up in the morning, I don’t regret it.

I regret it when I go to work the next day. He gives me a knowing look every time he passes me in the hall and even Kirby sends me a look or two.

It happens for a couple more days until one day he finds himself in my office with Dylan and Alex Nylander, another young rookie.

I’d been struggling with work all day, people bitching at me on the phone and numbers not adding up so all I really wanted was to finish the last hour of work and go home.

Then Adam gives me a look.

“What’s your problem?” I snap.

He gives me a confused expression, causing me to elaborate. “We slept with each other once and now you think you know so much about me? Do you think you can hold this over my head or something?”

Dylan chokes on his spit and Alex stifles his laughter, Adam flustering with words.

I organize a stack of papers on my desk, not even bothering to make eye contact with any of them. “I think it’s best if you three leave.”

They respect my wishes. An hour later I lock my door with a deep sigh, turning to make my way towards the parking lot. A body pushes me up against my door suddenly, causing me to gasp and dart my eyes up to see who my attacker is.

My eyes meet familiar blue ones and my body relaxes at the sight, then freezes up again when I realize I’m stuck in between his arms.

“You know, I didn’t really like that stunt you pulled earlier,” Adam breathes out, breath fanning over my face. His head leans down and he nibbles at the skin on my neck teasingly.

I hold back a moan at the action. “You didn’t?”

“No,” he bites down a little bit harder, causing me to wince. “I think you’re going to have to be punished for that.”

“You think so?” I whisper out.

“I think so.”

“Then I think we should get started on this now, don’t you think?”

“I agree.”

~

And that’s how I began sleeping with Adam Boqvist. Neither of us are looking for anything serious- I want to live the single life after being in a committed relationship for so long and he wants to enjoy his single, youth years in the great city of Chicago.

Plus, he would be the last person I would date.

He’s cocky, selfish, obnoxious, loud- I could keep going.

But either way, the relationship between us, or whatever you want to call it, isn’t end game. He isn’t the person I want to spend the rest of my life with. He’s not the one I want to raise children with or sit with on rocking chairs on the porch.

He’s just a guy I want to have sex with until I find the right person for me.

So, tell me why I’m sitting in my shitty apartment bathroom with two pregnancy tests sitting on the small basin of the sink.

I crisscross my legs on the toilet, fiddling with my fingers anxiously. They have to be negative. They have to be.

I can’t have a child right now. I want to focus on my career and build my reputation in the field. I don’t want to have a baby just a couple years into starting this job. I can’t afford a baby anyways; Chicago is an insanely expensive city and I can barely afford to live by myself.

Hell, I live in a loft.

Besides, I can’t be connected to Adam for the rest of my life. I can hardly stand the guy as it is.

As the minutes slowly pass by, I convince myself that I’m not actually pregnant. The ache in my ankles and lower back are due to stress from work and the vomiting is because my eating habits haven’t been as consistent as they usually are.

I’m just going to completely ignore the fact that I let Adam have sex with me without a condom while I was off my birth control for a while due to the weird side effects it was giving me.

It’s like I’m watching from outside of my own body as I reach forward, grabbing the sticks and holding one in each hand.

Positive. Positive.

My heartbeat fastens and I can feel my breath getting shallow. I try to focus my breathing, counting to four over and over and it slowly helps.

My eyes open back up as I ground myself and I can’t help but just stare at the sticks, switching between the two. I’m pregnant. I’m having Adam Boqvist’s baby.

~

I really didn’t prepare myself for the next time that I’d see him. I’ve already prepared myself to deal with this on my own- whichever way I decide to do that. I haven’t really decided that yet either.

“Hey,” he grins at me as he enters my office, shutting the door behind him. “I have about ten minutes before Kirby starts to look for me, let’s have a quickie.”

“No, Adam,” I sigh, swallowing the lump in my throat. The words are just begging to come out. I’m pregnant. You’re going to be a dad.

“Why not? Is it because we’re at work? We’ve done it in your office before,” he protests.

I set the pen down next to the pad of paper gently, crossing my hands on the top of the desk and turning to focus him with a serious expression. His mischievous grin fades when he notices that I’m not in the playful or teasing mood that I’m usually in when I see him.

“What’s up?” He questions.

“Adam, I’m pregnant.”

His reaction is not one I expect. His face turns to one of confusion, like he’s genuinely unsure why I would be telling him this.

“Congratulations?” He says it more like a question.

My eyes narrow into a glare at the word. He doesn’t believe that it’s his child. I feel hurt, disrespected, and angry. Who does he think I am, the type of girl who has unprotected sex with everyone who walks?

Not that there’s anything wrong with those girls, more power to them, it’s just- he knows me. We’ve been in each other’s beds most of the time for the past couple of months. I spend practically every night with him, and he has the nerve to doubt paternity?

“It’s yours, idiot.” I can’t help but let that dig slide.

“Well how do you know that?”

“Because if I’m not working, I’m having sex with you,” I say slowly, like I have to spell it out for him.

“Well how do you know it’s not- uh- what’s that guy’s name- Steven’s kid?” Adam inquires, his eyes showing that he’s searching hard for an excuse to not take responsibility.

I scoff, leaning back in my chair. “Whatever, Adam, I don’t care if you believe me. I’m going to figure it out.”

“You better.” And by the way he says it, I know what he wants me to do. I know that he doesn’t want to be a father- although actions do have consequences, there is a reason that abortion and adoption are options.

I can also tell that now he knows for sure that he is the father. And he sure as hell doesn’t want to be the father.

~

I don’t know why I’m so nervous. It’s just scheduling an appointment- I can always cancel or reschedule.

But my finger rests over the call button for a long time, ‘Planned Parenthood’ looking up at me, mocking me, taunting me.

Do you want an abortion or not? Do you want to be a mother or not? Do you want to go through this pregnancy or not?

There are so many questions flashing through my head. Quite frankly, I don’t know what I want to do. I have no one to turn to- as much as I love the team, I don’t want to cause a rift between them and Adam, and I don’t want to think that we’re closer than we actually are.

I cut out my family years ago.

My friends are all party girls, they wouldn’t know the first thing about a baby if it hit them.

Everything is telling me that I shouldn’t do this. I shouldn’t want to raise a baby on my own, I shouldn’t want to be a single mother.

But why do I so desperately yearn for it? Why did I feel joy when I looked at those sticks and why do I get excited at the thought of little footsteps running around on hardwood floors?

I press the call button.

It gets two rings in before I end it, knowing I’ve made my choice despite all odds.

I need to keep this baby. I know Adam won’t be there for me, but he doesn’t need to be. All this baby needs is to feel love and support and it’ll get that from me and me alone. I need to start fresh, though, to make sure that I’m the best mom that I can be.

~

“I can’t believe you quit, just like that,” Alex states with a disappointed tone.

I told the guys I quit because I want a change in scenery. That’s not a lie, I’m excited to be moving to the beautiful state of Colorado to start new. But I also hid the news about the baby. They don’t follow me on social media, so they’ll never know- unless Adam says something to them about it. But I doubt he will.

“We’ll miss you,” Dylan adds.

“I’ll miss you guys too,” I respond, closing the cardboard box containing all of my office supplies. Picture frames, pens, cool knick-knacks. All packed into a box ready to be shipped to the mountain zone.

“Hey Adam, Y/N was just getting ready to say goodbye,” Alex says, making me look up from taping up the box with wide eyes.

Sure enough, the blonde is leaning in the doorway, looking unsure for the first time since I’ve met him. It’s weird to see him so hesitant. It’s not him.

But I also don’t feel bad for him. A real dad would step up and want to be there for their kid. A good dad would do that. But clearly, and unfortunately, I was right. Adam Boqvist is and always will be selfish.

I say my goodbyes to Alex and Dylan, the box in one arm while I lock the office with the other hand.

“You’re really leaving?”

“Let’s just get this over with, Adam,” I start, turning to him. He winces when I look him in the eye, seeing all of the resentment and anger I feel towards him. “I’m keeping the baby. I’m raising the baby on my own. Don’t worry, I won’t put you down on the birth certificate. You’ll never see us again.”

His mouth opens then closes. “Are you sure?”

I scoff at the question, shaking my head in disbelief. I go to push past him. “Oh, trust me, I’m sure.”

[jiminthestreets-bonesinthesheets]

I Loved Him... Once - CH 3

Title: I Loved Him… Once

Author: jiminthestreets-bonesinthesheets

Fandom: Criminal Minds

Pairing: Heid (Aaron Hotchner x Spencer Reid)

Rating: This ones General but eventually as the series goes it will be Explicit

Tags: canon typical violence and gore, eventual smut as the series goes, angst, fluff, pining., its gunna be a slow burn guys.

Summary: A series following the team as they solve crimes and take down the bad guys.

     In Part one of this series, we follow the team as they take down a serial killer that has taken a piece of one of their own. And through it all, Spencer and Hotch come to a few conclusions and realizations of their own.

AO3 

Masterlist 

*** My works are not to be posted on any sites without my permission! But comments and reblogs are love! <3 Please and thanks!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chapter three

     Spencer pulled into the bureau parking lot later the next day. Once he parked, he rested his head on the steering wheel for a few moments, wallowing in what he could have almost had but didn’t get the chance to even ask for, before letting it go and putting himself back into work mode. 

     He got out, grabbed his bag, and quickly made his way inside. And as soon as his feet hit the bullpen floor, JJ was there ushering everyone who had already arrived into the conference room.

     “Spence, hey! How was your holiday?” She asked as ash approached him and they walked towards the stairs together.

     “It was… okay.” He answered, shoving his hands in his pockets and matching her strides, “How was yours? Did Henry have fun camping?”

     “Oh yeah! He had loads of fun and way too many smores,” they both laughed, and Spencer had a feeling the smores had more to do with Will then JJ, “all though it was a much shorter vacation then I was hoping for, but I kind of expected as much. So what did you do with your six days?”

     “Uh…” Went to a lecture series, zoned out during said lecture series, thought about Aaron, had a small breakdown in the middle of the lecture series because of Aaron, was seconds away from asking Aaron out on a date right before they got called back… “Not much really, just… a couple lectures, nothing too fun.”

     “I'm sure it was still fun, you love stuff like that.”

     Great, Spencer thought, another person who thought he wasn't any fun. Maybe it was better he didn't get the chance to ask Aaron out. He might have thought going out with Spencer wouldn't be a good time, that he'd think a ‘fun night out’ included some form of education rather than something romantic. As if he needed yet another person to tell him he was boring, and this time it would be followed up by a harsh rejection he wasn't sure he'd be able to take.

     But he just nodded with a smile at JJ as they ascended the stairs and made it to the conference room door. “Well, vacation is officially over and now it's back to work,” then she opened the door and walked in, Spencer following after her.

     JJ walked in and sat on the other side of the table beside Emily, the two of them instantly opening the case files in front of them and quietly discussing between themselves, while they waited for everyone else. Derek was sitting beside Emily, case file open before him but seemingly stuck in his own little world, eyes glued to the page but not really looking. Garcia was up and walking around the table, distributing the last of the case files frantically, and it looked like Dave was the only one still missing. 

     So that left three free chairs at the table. One beside JJ which he assumed had already been claimed by Garcia, one beside Derek and the last… beside Aaron. He figured it would probably be in his best interest to sneak in and take the open seat beside Derek, so that's exactly what he tried to do. Tried. 

     As soon as he walked into the room and attempted to make the turn in Derek’s direction, he was stopped clean in his tracks when suddenly Aaron stood abruptly, eyes locked on Spencer. The entire room went silent, still, even Derek looked up from his file, and Spencer just stared at Aaron. No one moved or even dared to make a sound as the two had their awkward stare down, even the clicking of Garcia's heels had ceased, and the tension was constricting.

     “What is going on?” 

     The deep, smooth baritone of David's voice cut through the moment and Emily answered for them all, “We have no idea…”

     David took in the situation, looking from Spencer, to Aaron who was still standing and looking completely shell shocked, then shrugged. “Well, I don't know about you, kid, but I don't plan on standing for the entire briefing.”

     “Right… right, sorry,” he finally managed to pull his gaze away from Aaron, and turned to continue his plan of sitting beside Derek, “I'll just sit-”

     When he turned he was suddenly slammed right into David, who had managed to sneak around him, and they were now in some sort of side stepping dance battle for the chair beside Derek. “Sorry, kid,” they bumped into each other again as they both moved the same way, “I'm so sorry, so sorry.”

     Spencer tried a few more times to get around him, but after more then a few failed attempts he admitted defeat and turned to take the chair beside Aaron, the one chair he didn't want to take. “I'll just… sit… here, I guess.”

     “Yeah, you do that, and I'll sit here beside my good friend, Derek.” 

     Derek gave Dave an amused look, but let it go, and everyone watched as Spencer moved to take the open seat, Aaron finally sitting back down at the same time as Spencer. 

     On the other side of the room, still slightly afraid to move, Garcia slowly sank herself down in the chair beside JJ, and leaned in to talk quietly to the two girls, whisper yelling, “What the hell was that?!”

     “I… I don't know,” Emily stuttered out, a little concerned that as a profiler she didn't even know where to start with the behaviour they just witnessed, '' I actually don't know!”

     “We're gunna have to keep an eye on that right?!” Garcia asked again.

     “Oh, definitely,” JJ chimed in, all three of them sticking their heads close together and continuing to observe the two boys across the table.

     Spencer sat, not quite having the courage to look over at Aaron, but he could tell he was looking at him. Which made him all the more nervous to be sitting there. So instead he occupied himself with opening his case file then digging through his bag for a pen. 

     A light tap on his shoulder broke his severe concentration on finding a pen, and he closed his eyes to steady himself, then turned to his left. Aaron was still staring at him, as he had suspected, but was now holding out a pen to him. He forced himself to look up and make eye contact with Aaron, taking the pen with a shy smile. “Ah… t-thank-you.”

     “You're welcome,” he waited a beat, then asked quietly, “how was your lecture series?”

     “Oh,” Spencer took a pause, thinking back on how he had run out of there like a bat out of hell, and all because of the man currently asking him about it. So he just raised a brow and responded with a slight smirk, “enlightening.”

     Aaron nodded, not quite understanding the underlying message there and Spencer was thankful for that, then leaned in closer to say, “I was going to-” Before he was cut off by Strauss walking into the conference room.

     “Good, you're all here,” she looked around the room and everyone sat up a little straighter as she did, then she turned her attention to Aaron as she continued, “I'll expect you to be in California tonight so that you can get started there early tomorrow morning. Get this solved quickly.”

     “Yes, ma’am.” Aaron nodded.

     She took one last look around the room, then landed on Garcia with a heavy stare, “I'll leave you to your briefing then,” and closed the door behind her as she left.

     “Right, right, the briefing!” She stood quickly, grabbing the remote and pointing it to the screen on the wall, bringing up pictures from the scenes. Anything that was going to be said between Spencer and Aaron was lost behind the case. “Over the last few days San Diego, California has been faced with a slew of murders, to be honest with you much too gruesome for my gorgeous eyes, so I'm just gunna turn away while you all look.”

     She clicked the remote a few times, promptly turning her back to the screen as she did. The team looked upon their victims, all taking a few minutes to gather their thoughts before Emily started the process, “Who are they, Garcia?”

     She clicked a few more times, the unmutilated faces of the victims coming up as she spoke, “Joe Marsden, thirty-three, Karl Jennings, thirty-two, and yesterday's victim Adam Knoxs, thirty-five.”

     “Any connections between them?”

     “None that I could find so far,” she sighed as she explained, “Joe was an elementary school teacher, he taught grade two and from what I can tell was very much loved by both students and parents. Karl worked at a local restaurant as a line cook. And Adam was a receptionist for a private medical practice. As far as I can tell by phone records and credit cards, none of them ever crossed paths in any way.”

     “Keep digging, Garcia, see if you can find anything that might connect these people, no matter how small it may seem.” She nodded at Aaron, then Derek was the next to speak.

     “The victimology is way off,” he said as he turned his chair, pointing to the screen, “there doesn't seem to be a type here. One has blonde hair and blue eyes, the other brunette with brown eyes, and the last guy is balding with grey hairs on the side. None of them look anything even close to similar, so why these three men?”

     “He's right, it doesn't make any sense,” JJ added, “not to mention the fact that each victim seems to have been mutilated differently each time. Joe had his eyes crossed out, Karl had his ears cut off, and Adam had his mouth sewn shut. Are we sure this is even the same unsub for all three murders?”

     “See no evil, hear no evil, speak no evil,” Spencer spoke up, everyone turning towards him.

     “Good eye, kid,” David looked over to him, then asked, “what else do you know about this?”

     “The three wise monkeys are a Japanese pictorial maxim, embodying the proverbial principle ‘see no evil, hear no evil, speak no evil’,” he began, gaining the attention of everyone in the room, “The three monkeys are Mizaru, who sees no evil, covering its eyes. Kikazaru, who hears no evil, covering its ears. And Iwazaru, who speaks no evil, covering its mouth. There are various meanings ascribed to this proverb, some of which tend more to the innocent side of being of good mind, speech, and action. But the phrase is more often than not used to refer to dealing with the immoral side of things in terms of turning a blind eye. It's also sometimes used as a code of silence, perhaps this unsub took it in the literal sense. It's possible that these victims wronged him in some way. Whether they are connected to each other, or only connected through the unsub alone, if they each wrong or betrayed him in a way that pertains to the japanese principle, then this could be it. Maybe he's not a serial killer on a spree but rather a man out for revenge, and maybe he got it.”

     “If he's right, and these three men are the end of his killings, then we may never catch this guy,” Derek said as he turned towards Aaron.

     “That's why we're being called in,” he answered, “California PD has exhausted all their leads, and whether this guy is done killing or not, they need our help to catch him and bring him to justice. Wheels up in thirty.”

~~~~~~~~~~~

     Aaron was sitting in his usual place at the back of the jet while the rest of his team started to file in slowly. Spencer was one of the last of his team to get on, clearly making eye contact with Aaron as well as eyeing the empty seat across from him, but ducking to the side at the last second and sitting in a seat at the very front of the jet. Every part of Aaron was itching to reach out to Spencer and offer him the seat that he deliberately made sure was left empty across from him, but after their tension filled moment in the conference room he thought it best to maybe just leave it alone for now. So he sat alone at the back of the jet, quietly going over his case file while they took off.

     As soon as they were up and level and able to walk around, David was settling himself down in the empty seat he had meant to be for Spencer.  

     “So?” David asked with a sigh, folding his hands together in his lap and looking at Aaron expectantly.

     “So, what?” 

     “Well after all that awkward tension back in the conference room I assumed you must have some juicy gossip to share,” he smirked and shifted in his seat, as if settling in for a long story, “so, did you do it? Did you call him? Is that what that was all about?”

     “No, I didn't get the chance to.”

     “What do you mean you didn't have the chance?” He leaned forward, holding his hands out to Aaron in disbelief, “You had six full days off without any calls, you had plenty of chances to call him.”

     “I had Jack for four of those days, spent the first two on the phone negotiating those four days out of Haley,” he sighed, closing the file on his lap, “and I don't know if Spencer would be all too happy with spending time with both me and my son.”

     “Why wouldn't he be? I'm sure Spencer would love to spend time with Jack.”

     “Well, if it means anything I was going to call him yesterday,” he sighed again, wishing he could have had just one more day of peace, then he would have been able to make that call, “I was going to ask him if he would be interested in joining me and Jack for a walk in the park, or perhaps dinner and a movie night. But just as I was about to call him I received the news from Strauss ordering us back into the field.”

     “A missed opportunity, story of our lives.'' Aaron just nodded. “So what are you going to do about it then?”

     He thought for a second, then answered, “Maybe on our next vacation-”

     “Aaron, that could be months away, we don't even have anything scheduled right now. The kid’s waited this long, but he's not going to wait forever.”

     “Who’s to say he's even waiting for me?”

     “That's the thing,” he shrugged, “you will never know until you ask. And if you keep waiting until the next vacation, or the next day off, there will always be an excuse. Work, Jack, or even just nerves. If you want to know if it is you that Spencer has been waiting for all these years, then you just need to ask.”

     He nodded, David was right, of course he was right, he was the ‘embodiment of love’ after all. And if he kept letting all those excuses get in the way, then he would keep putting it off as he has already for so long, and he would never know how Spencer felt. But then there was that split second on the call… “Well…”

     “Well what, Aaron? Out with it.”

     “I…” He stopped and thought about it for a second, about to back out but then decided to just keep going. Maybe David would have some answers that he didn't. “I can't be certain if this is what I actually heard or not, but when I called him to tell him we had a case, I'm sure he was in the process of saying that he was about to call me.”

     “That's great!” He clapped his hands together.

     “But why would he have been calling me on his vacation?”

     “Obviously he was thinking about you as much as you were thinking about him,” David was actually thrilled over the idea, “maybe he was going to bite the bullet and make the first move, since you're taking your sweet time.”

     “You think?”

     He shrugged with a pouted lip, “That's what it sounds like to me.'' Aaron just hummed, lost in thought, mulling over all this new information. “Just ask him out, Aaron. Why not go to dinner after the case is over?”

     He nodded, “I'll ask him. Once the case is over and we're headed back home, I'll ask him.”

     “Good,” he sat back, folding his hands in his lap again, “but if you don't follow through this time, I will ask him for you myself.”

     Aaron chuckled and shook his head. To most, that would be an empty threat, but Aaron knew better than that when it came to David Rossi. “I'll ask, I promise.”

     “You better.”

     Aaron left it at that, settling back in his chair just as Rossi had. They had a while yet before they landed, so he just resigned himself to reviewing the case file in silence. Now that David was done with his inquisition, for now at least.

~~~~~~~~~~~

     "God, I am so over planes." Spencer just scoffed in the seat beside Derek as he whined, so he turned to him and asked, "Problem, pretty boy?"

     "You're complaining about being stuck on a plane for too long, but Rossi just spent eleven hours flying back from Italy, only to be instantly put on a plane again to fly to California," he lifted his head from the file in his hands, though not looking at Derek as he said, "you spent what, four and a half?"

     "Have you no sympathy?"

     "For you?" He questioned, going back to his case file, "No."

     Derek swiftly smacked him with his own case file, though they both were laughing when he did. They fell into a comfortable silence for a few moments before Spencer asked, "So how did your sand, sun, and fun go?"

     "Well, there was a lot of sand, a lot of sun, but not a whole lot of fun was had."

     "Really?" He turned to Morgan again, "But you seemed so adamant about there being so much fun to be had. What did you spend six days doing at the beach?"

     "You got into my head, kid. I spent all six days reading ‘The Art of War', got through most of it before being called back." Spencer nodded, smirking and pursing his lips as he did, and Derek asked, "What, are you proud of me or something?"

     He waited a second, then answered, "You spent six days reading ‘The Art of War' and you only got through most of it? It took you that long to read it?"

     Derek nudged him with a laugh, “just because you're a genius."

     "So six days of sitting on the beach, reading, and no fun," he thought, then added, "I assume that means no fine exotic women either."

     "Nah, no fine exotic women."

     Spencer's smirk grew impossibly wider at Derek's comment, and incredibly mischievous as he took his opportunity to finally get the one up on him. "Well, handsome exotic men then. I'm not here to judge."

     "Oh, pretty boy!" Derek shouted, the two breaking into a fit of laughter as Derek hit him with the file again, "Coming back with the jokes now?!"

     “Sorry to break up the party,” Aaron said as he came up on Spencer's left, “Garcia has some new information for us.”

     Aaron leaned over Spencer on the end of the booth to place his laptop on the table as everyone gathered around, little to Spencer's knowledge he definitely leaned in a little too far on purpose. And little to Aaron’s knowledge the action almost caused Spencer to spontaneously combust in his seat. But somehow the two managed to hold it together, and Aaron stood back looking at the screen, “Go ahead, Garcia.”

     “So, while you guys were taking off we got a call from the California PD, they found another body. They’re waiting for you guys to get there before they clear the scene.��

     “Alright,” Aaron began, full boss mode now. The authority in his voice always sent a chill down Spencer's spine. “I know it will be late, and everyone’s tired after their travels today, but as soon as we land I would like everyone to head to the latest crime scene. I want as many fresh eyes on the scene as we can get. After that we'll all head to the hotel for some sleep and start early tomorrow morning." Everyone nodded their understanding and then Aaron continued on with the next day's assignments. "Tomorrow morning Prentis and Rossi, I want the two of you to head to the local PD and get us set up, start the geographical profile. Morgan and JJ, I want you two connecting with the families of the victims. Get to know them and see if they might have the missing link that tells us how these victims are connected. Reid, you're with me. We're going to visit the old crime scenes and speak with the coroner."

     Though they were currently sitting on a plane full of profilers, no one noticed the fact that Aaron made sure he was paired up with Spencer. Well, all but one. It also didn't go unnoticed by David when Spencer's neck suddenly turned a nice shade of red when Aaron picked him as a partner. These two would be the death of him, he was sure of it. 

~~~~~~~~~~~

     They arrived on scene late at night. It was dark in the back alleyway, but the lights the local PD had set up lit it like it was day. The crime scene unit was already there, gathering evidence where they could find it, but by the looks of it they hadn't found much. Same as the last three murders. 

     They all split up, David and Aaron going to speak with the officers on site, Emily and Derek to look at the body, and Spencer went with JJ to talk to the few people crowding the other side of the police tape. Though it was in vain, none of them had seen or heard anything and were merely just there out of curiosity. Still they seemed to be without any leads.

     With no evidence and nothing else to help them move forward with the investigation at the scene, Aaron gathered them all and told them to head to the hotel and get some much needed sleep. They would stick with the plan they had made on the jet and go to their respective positions in the morning. It was enraging to come all the way out here, to have a fresh crime scene, and yet still have nothing to help them. Spencer was not happy to be going back to their hotel empty handed, but then again maybe some sleep would help them all regroup.

     He started following behind JJ towards the cars, but stopped as the coroner walked past him, asking him to stop for a moment, “May I take a look at the body before you head to the morgue?” The coroner nodded and waited for Spencer to pull back the zipper and look. 

     “Hey, Reid,” Derek called from the car, waving Spencer towards him, “come on, man, let's head out.”

     “Yeah, one second,” he called back, undoing the zipper, “I just wanted to take a look at the body and see if the killer is still following the pattern of the three wise monkeys-”

     When he laid eyes on the face of the body he dropped the bag and took an immediate, staggering step back. His breathing picked up, given away by the sudden heavy rise and fall of his shoulders, and the team abandoned the cars to start walking over to him, concerned.

     Before they reached him, he stumbled, knees weak. Aaron lunged forward to catch him but Derek beat him to it, grabbing Spencer under the arms as he almost hit the ground. He lowered him slowly, the rest of the team running now to make sure Spencer was okay. 

     “Reid, hey talk to me,” Derek said, allowing Spencer to lean back against him, his eyes still fixed on the gurney, “what’s going on?”

     Without moving his eyes from the body bag on the gurney, he whispered so quietly that Derek was barely able to hear, “I… I know him.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: Please let me know what you guys think XD I love reading your comments and talking to you guys <3 And in the next chapter we get even more Spencer and Aaron, so look forward to that!

[a-dorin]

tempestuous | darth maul

word count: 5.043k 

warnings: nsfw, 18+, professor/student relationship, sexual tension, smut,  nudity, sexual innuendos, dominance kink, age gap, cursing 

a/n: hello everyone! due to the response i received, this is the second chapter in the professor!maul au! i am so happy with the overwhelming comments of kindness. you guys rock :’) thank you for keeping me sane during quarantine. as always, the first chapter is linked below. enjoy :)) 

ardor

summary: weeks have flown by, and you find yourself under immense amounts of pressures with midterm quickly approaching. not only are you stressed with the academics, but you can’t seem to shake a certain professor out of your head.

“(y/n), did you have rough night?” barriss chuckled, handing ahsoka an iced coffee before sliding into her own spot, “here, i got you a little pick-me-up.” 

wrapping your hand around the cup, you swirled your straw around, “thank you, barriss. i guess i’m just a little stressed out with midterms approaching.”

“a little?” ahsoka giggled, covering her mouth, “(y/n), we love you, but you look like you’ve been hit by a truck. is everything okay?”

you rubbed your temple, a dull aching seeping into your skull, “i’ve been pulling some all nighters lately.”

“well if you ever want to study for with us, you’re always welcome,” barriss’ blue depths shone, her lips curved into an encouraging smile, “ahsoka and i are a little nervous about the midterm as well, especially for this class. professor maul hasn’t given us any sort of notion on what the exam may be.”

“i hope it’s something simple,” you grumbled, taking a sip of the matcha latte, “again, thank you for the matcha, barriss. i appreciate it.”

barriss laid a gentle hand on your shoulder, “anything for you, (y/n). after all, you’re our new best friend.”

“she’s very right,” ahsoka shot you a wink, prodding you with her elbow, “you should come to the library with us tomorrow night! i know, it’s lame, but it’s pretty empty on the weekend. we have a good chance at snagging one of those study rooms. and if we get our homework done friday, we can always meet up before that party saturday night!” 

“you guys party?” you arched a curious brow. 

barriss and ahsoka rolled their eyes simultaneously, the togruta letting out a huff, “we know how to have fun too, (y/n). after all, they say that the bookworms know how to let loose.”

“whatever,” you couldn’t help but laugh, pulling out your laptop. 

it was now about halfway through the semester, with midterms approaching on the horizon. the looming fact that you had about five exams, along with working extra hours with your internship, were beginning to take their toll on you. the internship at the hospital was running smoothly, and you were performing so well that you were offered extra hours. of course, you couldn’t help but accept the offer. 

yet, it came with a cost. although it was only two nights a week, they asked if you could stay a few hours later than normal. so, every tuesday and wednesday, you strolled into your apartment well past one in the morning. 

rex helped in every way he possibly could. whether it was cooking you dinner, making you coffee, tending to your laundry, as well as keeping the apartment tidy, he was adamant about making things easier for you. which, you greatly appreciated. there were even times he charged your laptop and made runs to the printer. last night was one of those nights where you didn’t get back till late, so to say you were exhausted was an understatement. 

although it was your first class of the day, and 9:56 a.m., sleep still hung heavy in your mind. the comfy clothes hanging on your frame weren’t much help either, the coziness of the fabric lulling you to sleep. a university of coruscant hoodie, a few sizes too big, was almost like a blanket. and the grey sweats were comforting. shaking your head, you attempted to focus. 

the class fell silent as he entered the room, causing you to perk up in your seat. today, he was clad in a pair of black slacks, the color of his button up and blazer corresponding with his pants. his shoes were freshly polished, glossy in the sterile light. the monochromatic outfit brought out the color of his crimson skin, his amber orbs nearly glowing. as usual, the silver chain hung from his neck, this time, settled on bare skin, as a button or two was left undone. 

you nearly choked on your matcha, as you drank in the sight of him. maker, was he gorgeous. mind buzzing, you mustered all of your strength to not admire for a moment too long. it was already embarrassing enough the sheer amount of instances you saw him on campus. 

now that you were enrolled in his class, you saw him everywhere. whether it was grabbing a meal to-go in the dining hall, bumping into him at the gym, or mumbling a greeting as you passed him in the halls of the psychology wing. it was odd, yet you paid no mind. a part of you yearned to see him, to just admire his features. 

professor maul didn’t seem to mind the encounters either. every time, he would chirp a greeting, his tone smooth and cordial. even though he was formal, you couldn’t help but notice a gleam in the golden pools as he spoke. it was almost as if his eyes were roaming your body, glittering with lust. 

just the mere thought of his lips on yours sent a faint blush painted across your cheeks. shifting in your seat, the realization that class began washed over you. letting out a quiet sigh, you typed notes as he spoke, his voice clear, thick with authority as it rang through the lecture hall. 

“now,” he cleared his throat, backtracking to the pedestal to the left of the space, “i compiled a list of terms and parameters of your midterm exam.”

groans of frustration erupted like a volcano, maul’s eyes blazing with amusement, “may i discuss the exam with you first or are you all going to complain?”

“i hate him,” ahsoka muttered under her breath. 

“you don’t mean that,” you whispered, teasing, “what if the exam is a breeze?”

“the midterm will be no walk in the park,” maul announced, gathering a thick stack of papers in his hands.

 your eyes wandered to his hands, and how they sprawled over the stack with ease, how they were would fit so well over your breasts. a shiver ran down your spine as you pondered of his hands all over your body, relishing every inch of your skin. his voice snapped you out of your fantasy, his gaze settling on you, a smirk creeping onto his lips. 

“for the exam, i ask that you research an individual or authoritative figure who is a ‘monster’ in our society. once you conduct your research, you will give me a brief presentation. the presentation will be done orally, through a video format. the deadline is printed on the assignment sheet. there are no exceptions, so plan accordingly.”

biting your lip, your cheeks reddened under the eye contact. however, his attention was taken away from you, eyes flickering towards a student near the top of the lecture hall. 

“does this mean we can talk about president palpatine? he’s a tyrant!” 

“i can’t believe he almost banned the frats!” another complaint rose from a classmate.

“if that’s who you would like to report on,” a bubbly, lighthearted laugh escaped his lips, the sound flowing like sweet honey into your ears, “you might have your work cut out for you. that is my boss after all, so i am not sure how biased i can be.”

the rest of the class droned on, ahsoka and barriss lost in their note-taking, their stares fixed to their laptop screens. meanwhile, you found yourself getting lost, daydreaming. maker, did you ache to experience just one kiss. to trace the tattoos all over his chest and shoulders as you unbuttoned the article of clothing. gnawing on your cheek, shame burned through you as you realized that you were beginning to feel a sensation in your core. the mere thought of maul had your folds slick, wet and desperate for him. 

soon, class was over, students herded to the doors. you followed ahsoka and barriss, conversing about tomorrow’s plans. you were anticipating the study session tomorrow, as you needed it.

after all, you weren’t paying much attention in class these days. 

*******

“so, are we wrapped up for the night?” ahsoka yawned, her eyes bleary with sleep. 

a rumble in the distance shook the library, a thunderstorm wreaking its havoc over coruscant. you, barriss, and ahsoka were finishing up, the building nearing closing time. it was 10:32 p.m., the three of you hunkering down in a study room for the past two and a half hours. however, the session was helpful, the three of you passing notes, sharing what you did and didn’t have. you were all caught up, thanks to them. 

“i believe so,” barriss nodded, shoving a notebook into her bag, “(y/n), would you like us to walk with you to your apartment? we can share an umbrella and give you one.”

“i’ll be fine,” you shrugged, glancing at your phone, “i think i might wait out the storm for a few more minutes. besides, my roommate has a girl over. i don’t want to impose on them.”

“you sure?” concern flashed across ahsoka’s face, “it’s not a problem to us.”

“you guys can go,” you teased, winking, “i can handle myself. besides, there’s no one in here besides the twi’lek at the front desk.”

“whatever you say,” barriss huffed, adjusting her hijab, “see you tomorrow!”

“see ya,” you waved to the two girls as they left the room, “text me when you guys want to meet up!” 

“we will,” ahsoka called, giving you one last grin before they disappeared from your field of vision. 

exhaling, you rose to your feet, slinging your bag over your shoulder. strolling out of the study room, the lights of the library were dimmed, a few students lingering, milling around the front desk or nose deep in textbooks, scrambling to finish their work. 

eventually, you made your way to the lobby, leaning against the brick wall. rex promised that he would text you when his friend was on her way, yet there were no message on your screen. no missed calls. nothing. frustration welled up inside of you, creeping into your thoughts. surely the girl wasn’t staying the night. rex didn’t mention anything about it to you earlier. 

“hey there,” an all too familiar voice rumbled, “do you need a lift?”

turning ever so slightly, your eyes widened at the figure before you. maul stood in the doorway, donned in a pair of grey joggers, a university hoodie on his top half. the hoodie was black, which was a prominent color in the zabrak’s wardrobe. you picked up on that the third day of class. his brows were furrowed, lips pursed. it was almost as if he was concerned. 

“i’m fine,” you muttered, “just waiting on my roommate to give me the all clear.”

“i remember those days,” maul mused, “savage used to have all sorts of women over when we rented an apartment together for grad school. it was downright horrid.”

“i bet,” you sucked in a breath, anxiety swirling as you read the time once more. it was 10:48 now, more and more students filing out of the exit. 

“you all right?” he inquired, his voice low, “if your apartment isn’t too far from here, i can give you a ride. it’s storming pretty bad out there.”

“isn’t that illegal?” you snorted, a glimmer of hope rising as rex’s called id lit up your phone, “hang on, i gotta take this.”

“heyyyy,” immediately, you sensed that rex was walking on eggshells, “do you have a place to stay for the night?”

“rex, i thought we talked about this.”

“well,” he mumbled, “she wants to stay the night. i’ll do all of your laundry tomorrow if you say yes.”

“rex this isn’t the right time to bargain with me,” tears brimmed your eyes as the horror crept in. you had nowhere to go. 

“please?” his voice was sickeningly sweet, “pretty please?”

“fine,” you caved, “i’ll see you tomorrow.”

“thank you-” rex began, but you hung up before he got the chance to finish. 

storming out of the library, tears streamed down your cheeks, mixing effortlessly with the icy rain as it cascaded down, piercing through your clothes. you sobbed, your cries deafened by the thunder. maker, you were so furious. how could rex do that to you? especially so last minute? the only place you could go was your car, and you didn’t even have a fresh change of clothes. 

“(y/n),” through the roar of the thunder, you heard his voice. 

“oh great!” sobs racked your body, “now i have to deal with you too-”

his hands grasped your cheeks, pulling you in. lips collided with yours, his touch warm, as you crumpled completely. fingers tangled into your wet locks, desperate to bring you closer to him, to feel your lips mold so effortlessly with his. the kiss was fiery, burning with a passion. a desire for you. it was exhilarating, intoxicating, your mind buzzing, losing any sort of coherent thought as the rain pounded against the cement, lightning illuminating your surroundings. 

“now,” he pulled away, leaving you breathless, “do you need a ride?”

“i don’t have anywhere to go,” you could barely string the words together.

“you’re welcome to stay at my place.”

“are you sure?” you wiped your tears, yet the effort was fruitless. your clothes were soaked, you were chilled to the bone.

“yes,” he took your hands, “come on, let’s get out of here.”

“what if someone sees us?” anxiety bubbled within you. 

“my hood is up,” he began to make his way towards the parking lot, clicking a button on his car keys, “besides, i’m wearing black and so are you.”

“i guess you’re right,” you muttered, a shiver rippling through your being.

as he approached the vehicle, he opened the passenger door for you as the rain pattered against the pavement. slipping off his sweatshirt, he shoved it into your hands, “here, put this on.”

“i-i’m not wearing a shirt underneath,” the words were a stutter.

“and i’m not fifteen,” maul scoffed, ducking so that he could slide into the driver’s seat, “you’re going to get sick out here and mine is somewhat dryer than yours.”

hesitantly, you made your way into the passenger seat, your eyes widening as you noticed the interior, “this is a tesla.”

in the darkness, you picked out the brightness of his grin, his incisors flashed, poking against his lips, “indeed. my apartment isn’t too far from here. i need to let savage know that we’re no longer having drunkfest.”

“drunkfest?” you couldn’t help but giggle. 

“drunkfest,” maul affirmed, his thumbs dancing across his phone, “we get absolutely wasted every friday night to forget about the awful moments of the work week.”

“interesting,” you settled into maul’s hoodie, grateful for the slightly drier fabric. his scent flooded your nostrils. it was a strong scent, with traces of leatherwood, spices, and bergamot. it was heavenly, with just the right amount of cologne. 

“it is interesting,” his eyes focused on the road, the lights of the city whirring by as he drove, “even though i’ve gotten completely trashed every single time, i can’t seem to shake you off my mind.”

blush flooded your cheeks, your breath hitching in your throat, “i see.”

within minutes, maul pulled into a parking garage, turning off the engine. he helped out of the passenger seat, “let me carry your bookbag for you. the textbooks probably need to sit out for a few hours. i’m sure you don’t want to pay for new ones.”

“i don’t,” you sucked in a breath. 

the zabrak slung your bag over his shoulder with ease, locking the car behind you. the two of you entered the elevator on the level, and maul pushed his desired designation. a wave of silence crashed over you, but it wasn’t unnerving. it was more relaxed, maul humming a tune as the elevator whirred. 

eventually, you were standing outside his door, the zabrak shoving the key into the lock. pushing the door open, you couldn’t help but marvel at the decor, furniture, as well as the viewports. the apartment was luxurious, screaming wealth. yet, maul remained humble, not uttering a single word. 

the floor was a flint concrete, glossed over with a polish. in the den, there was a massive patterned rug, intricate patterns of black, white, and crimson woven together. the couch was a sectional, a dark grey. the shelving and tables were black, paired with subtle hints of scarlet or grey decor. there wasn’t much wall decor, besides some vintage posters from the old days of coruscant. framed photos of zabraki were scattered, and you inferred that they were feral and savage, maul’s younger brothers. 

“there’s a hall leading to the refresher. it’s on your right, i’m going to set out your books to dry. before you shower, leave your clothes in a pile by the door. i’ll throw them in the wash for you. and if i pop in, don’t scream. i’m going to lend you some of my clothes,” the zabrak murmured, “take your time in the shower. i don’t want you getting sick.”

“what if i need help getting the right water temperature?” you arched a brow. 

his eyes narrowed, gleaming, “i think you’ll be fine, princess. call me if you need anything.”

your cheeks reddened, “okay. i’ll be in the shower.”

maul mumbled something incoherent, and you wandered through the den, discovering the hall that he mentioned. once you found the refresher, you peeled the damp clothing off your body, grateful that there was a towel hanging outside the shower. exhaling, you tossed your clothes outside the door, turning on the water. after adjusting the temperature to your liking, you stood underneath the stream, grateful for the warmth as it seeped into your skin. 

the shower was just as elegant as the apartment, with glass doors and a steel shower head in the shape of a square. it was far better than the shower in your own apartment, as you didn’t have to worry about wasting hot water or any spiders. steam billowed into the space, hugging the doors of the shower, droplets of water condensing on the glass. 

“i’m coming in to drop off some clothes,” the zabrak’s voice entered the room, “holy fuck do you always have the water this hot?”

“do you not?” you chuckled. 

“it feels like a sauna in here,” he chuckled, teasing, “anyways, i’ll leave you be.”

letting out a content sigh, you turned the water off once he left. opening the door, your eyes scanned the space for the light switch. after a few seconds, you found it, flipping on the vent. hopefully that would help with the amount of steam that clung to every single item in the refresher. 

on the counter, there was a black turtleneck, along with a pair of briefs. patting yourself dry, you slipped on the briefs first, then slid the turtleneck over your head. it was getting late, the clock on the counter reading 11:36 p.m. yawning, you pushed open the door, padding into the hall. 

maul was nowhere to be found, a frown forming on your lips. where could he had run off to? surely he would’ve mentioned something to you. yet, your curiosity crept in, urging you to explore. holding your breath, you noticed a door, inferring that it was maul’s bedroom.

the door creaked as you tapped it, the draft pulling it open. inside, the floor was the same as it was, a king-sized bed in the middle, pushed against the wall, supported by a black wooden bed frame. there was a dresser, along with a walk-in closet. the most breathtaking aspect were the viewports, acting as a wall. the lights of coruscant glowed, the room overlooking the city. rain flowed down the viewports as thunder rumbled. you felt drawn to them, awestruck by the beauty of the sprawling city.

“you like the view?” your heart nearly leapt out of your chest. 

“don’t scare me like that!” you pouted, folding your arms across your chest.

“don’t go snooping around,” maul smirked, matching your energy.

your heart thudded as his eyes drank in the sight of you, in his turtleneck. the sweater was a little large, hanging loosely in some areas. the briefs hugged your thighs, leaving nothing to the imagination. your nipples poked through the fabric of the sweater, the cool air sending a shiver running down your spine. 

“gods,” he breathed, licking his lips, “i-i don’t know what to say.”

“i’m sorry for wandering off,” you mumbled, your cheeks hot as shame burned through you, “i didn’t mean to-”

“just stop,” maul shook his head, taking a step towards you, “just fucking stop. you have no need to apologize.”

the air in room crackled like the lightning outside as he took another step forward, an old t-shirt clinging to his torso, the same pair of grey joggers hanging loosely on his hips. your throat tightened as you noticed the way his chest rose and fell, the zabrak’s breathing ragged. 

“it seems as if i can’t shake you off my mind,” he panted as the space between you dissolved, “lately, all of my thoughts have revolved about you.”

“what do you think about?” you swallowed thickly. 

“do you want the hear the answer?” his face was merely centimeters away from yours, “or would you rather experience it?” 

“i want both.”

his hand reached out, gently grasping your jaw. the touch was light, feathery as his fingers traced your heated skin. you melted, nearly collapsing to the floor. 

the zabrak’s eyes glowed, the amber now hardened into a deep honey hue, almost a chestnut brown, “can i kiss you?”

you nodded, almost a little too quickly, “yes.”

a low, guttural growl dripped from his lips, “i couldn’t resist you before. but fuck as soon as i saw you in my clothes, i just can’t fucking take it any longer.”

the kiss was hungry, an open-mouth, lustful kiss. his lips crashed into yours, yearning to explore the taste of your mouth. the zabrak’s hands laced into your hair, tugging at the roots, gripping tightly. a whine echoed through the room as he sucked on your bottom lip, his tongue delving into your mouth. a hand slid down, resting on the nape of your neck, holding you steady as the kisses grew hungrier and hungrier. 

“get on the bed,” he commanded, his tone thick with authority, a hand untangling itself from your hair and tugging on the hem of the turtleneck, “and take this off.”

the way the words rolled of his tongue struck you to your core, your folds growing slick as the anticipation grew. fingers wrapping around the hem, you tugged it off, your breasts bouncing. the zabrak practically groaned as he admired your exposed body, a hand palming his cock as it hardened, the outline prominent in the light. 

obeying his order, you laid on the bed, your back hitting the soft comforter. maul slipped off the t-shirt, almost pouncing on top of you. pinning you down, his mouth connected with your neck, trailing sloppy kisses down, onto your collarbone.

“if only i could leave my mark on you,” his breath was hot, coming out in pants, “i would paint you like a canvas.”

“you can,” the words were a broken moan as his tongue dragged across your collarbone. 

“oh?” you could feel his lip curved into a smile, “you want me to?”

“ye-” the reply was shortened as maul’s lips wrapped around nipple, his tongue flicking over the sensitive area. 

his tongue drifted from your nipple to your flesh, nipping and sucking, a satisfied purr erupting from the zabrak as a rich burgundy mark appeared, “i hope you’re aware that you’re the most beautiful woman i have ever met.”

“i don’t think so.”

within seconds, his mouth was hovering over the waistband of the briefs, “you better fucking believe you are, (y/n).”

“i- oh my god,” the tearing of fabric rang off the walls as maul ripped the briefs off your frame. 

“usually i take my time with this,” maul murmured, his gaze burning with lust, “but fuck i need you. i need to feel you take my cock.”

“please,” you whimpered, squirming as he parted your thighs.

“holy fuck. how are you so fucking wet? you’re soaking and i haven’t even touched you.”

the zabrak was appalled, a flash of awe painted across features as he took in the sight of your dripping core, your pussy aching. desire burned through your being, threatening to consume you whole. maker, you never knew you wanted someone this badly. exhilaration rushed through you with every touch, his fingers slipping between your folds. 

“i’ve thought about you like this,” maul was enticed, almost in a trace as your juices coated his fingers, “i’ve thought about the way your body would be underneath mine, your eyes begging for me to fuck you till you can’t take it anymore.”

“i’ve thought about you in class.”

“in class?” his voice faltered, “(y/n), that’s sinful.”

“it’s not as sinful as how i’ve wanted you to fuck me for weeks,” your cheeks were flushed,. 

“oh gods,” maul groaned as a finger entered you, “i’m going to make you mine.”

“please,” your hips bucked forward, his finger plunging further into you, “i want to be yours.”

“you’re going to be mine princess,” he purred, “i promise i’ll give you what you’ve been yearning for.” 

hastily, the zabrak tugged his sweats off, kicking them to the floor. your nearly choked on your spit when his member sprang free from the constraint of the fabric. his cock was massive, the largest you had ever seen. yet, it wasn’t too large that you couldn’t take it. crimson and black patterns wove all around it, his shaft ribbed, precum dribbling down his length. 

“tell me how much you need me,” his voice shifted from a coo to a growl as fingers wrapped around your throat, “tell me how badly you need professor maul to fuck you senseless.”

“i need you to fuck me,” the words were a broken whine. 

“louder,” his grip tightened, “say it louder. i need to hear you.”

“i need professor maul to fuck me,” the words were enough to bring the zabrak to the edge, to make him unfold. 

“good girl,” his tone oozed with praise, low and husky. 

he lined his tip at your entrance, slowly inserting himself into you. maul’s hand loosened from your throat, gripping the headboard for leverage. your moans were breathy, laced with bliss as your walls expanded, wrapping around his cock.

“that’s such a good fucking girl,” maul leaned in, nipping at your ear, “you take my cock.”

the zabrak thrust into you, his tip brushing against your g-spot. throwing your head against the pillow, your body almost went limp, collapsing. the pleasure was overwhelming, burning through you like a fire. but maker, did you want more. you needed more. 

maul watched as he fucked you, one hand steady on the headboard, the other on the mattress, gripping the sheets. he was plowing into you now, showing no mercy. the moans bouncing off the walls were rich and so loud, fueling his desire to keep going. the zabrak lost all inhibitions minutes ago, his thoughts blurred, eyes glossed over. 

the way you felt was heavenly, every single thrust euphoric. 

maker, was he losing control. 

tightening his grip on the headboard, his knuckles were almost white. he was completely feral, unhinged, detached. 

a horrid cracking filled the zabrak’s ears, and he glanced up towards the headboard. the wood split into two, a lengthy, crack down the middle, stemming from his hand. 

“oh shit,” you gasped. 

“look what you made me do, angel,” a smirk stretched across his lips, “you’re going to fucking pay for that.”

your nails dug into his shoulder blades as he slammed into you, balls slapping against skin. his cock throbbed, swelling. with every throb, your walls tightened, the pleasure building in your belly. eyes squeezing shut, you felt every inch of him buried in your soaking pussy, balls deep in you now. 

“maul,” the zabrak nearly unfolded right there, “i’m going to cum.”

“let go baby,” his lips brushed against yours, “you can cum. cum for me.”

the orgasm racked your body, maul’s mouth connected with yours, the moans muffled. your thighs trembled, stars bursting in your vision, the pleasure almost blinding. 

with no strength left, your body went limp, collapsing into the mattress. 

his thrusts were more languid, sloppy with every stroke. maul came moments later, filling you up with it all. 

“fuck,” he cursed under his breath, a sheen of sweat clinging to his body, “are you all right?”

“i’m fine,” your inner thighs buzzed, soreness creeping into the muscle. 

every inch of skin the zabrak touched tingled, as if your body was savoring the memory.

maul cleared his throat, his cock still inside of you, “i kinda lost control.”

“kinda?”

“a little bit,” he chuckled softly, brushing a strand of hair from your forehead, “it’s been so long since i’ve last had sex. it doesn’t help that i’m in heat, either.”

“you’re in heat?” you pressed, brows furrowing. 

“perhaps,” the color of his eyes returned to their normal hue, amber flowing into crimson, “let’s get you cleaned up. it’s late.”

“is it past the professor’s bedtime?” your tone was snarky. 

“don’t tempt me to fuck you again. because we both know damn well that i will.”

glancing up, you noticed the broken headboard, “how much is that going to cost?”

the zabrak let out a huff as his cock slid out of you, drenched with a mixture of juices, “i don’t know. it’s the least of my concerns at the moment. stay here, and don’t move a muscle.”

swinging his legs over the mattress, maul strolled towards the refresher, retrieving a rag to clean up the mess that you made. you sunk into the bed, questions ringing through your mind. 

yet, you couldn’t help but notice a prominent feature. in the light, the tattooed skin glowed. but there was something different about the way his thighs transitioned from flesh to an ashen metal. 

maul’s legs were cybernetic. 

and your curiosity about the zabrak, your professor, skyrocketed.

***

tagged: @sapphicstars , @maulieber , @starflyer-104 , @alwayshappysith , @doobiwankenooku , @magicalkitkat12 , @dartheldur , @princessayveke , @multifandombtch , @spaghetti-666 , @lis-ard , @swimmingsloths , @sithmando​ , @mother-0f-monsters​

[theyreonlynoodlesmike]

Hi! I’d like to request the boys (separate) with the reader on the boardwalk. I’m curious as to what shenanigans they’d get up to

Honestly, this is one of those asks that you would think I’ve already been asked to do before, but it was a honest shame that I hadn’t. I already have some headcanons for what each boy is like on the boardwalk, so let’s dive right into it!!

The Lost Boys x Reader On the Boardwalk

David

David isn’t the most PDA type of guy. He’ll give you small touches here and there, a kiss if you ask for one. He’s mostly just content having you stand besides him, his arm possessively around your waist. It lets onlookers know that you’re taken. When you walk, he’ll have you wrap your arm around his. It makes him feel tough to have you hold onto him, and it also makes it so he can lead you though the crowd.

David likes to wander into shops and look for trouble. He finds scaring and messing with the locals more entertaining than going on any rides, and he’ll take you for a stroll up and down the boardwalk. You commented once on how you never bumped into people when you were with him, and he just smiled and said, “I have that effect on people.” 

He doesn’t let you pay for things. He’s from a time where it was the chivalrous thing to do, but when it was also completely expected. Your his little kitten, and he’s the one in charge so he pays. Old habits die hard, especially for vampires. 

He won’t buy himself anything, but he’ll definitely steal some of yours. You get a soda? He’s the one that finished it. He’ll do it on purpose and you won’t even realize until your cup is making empty suction sounds. He’ll laugh when you whine. You get a pretzel? He wants the knot. If you whine that that’s the best part, he’ll just say, “Who paid for it?” You get an ice-cream cone? You two will pass it back and forth as you take licks. Don’t get sprinkles ‘cause he will try to get as many of them in one swipe as possible just to be a dick. 

He’ll win you prizes if you ask for it, but it’s just so he can showoff. He won’t even look as he throws a dart during the balloon game, and you’ll roll your eyes when you both hear it pop. If you want a prize, you’re getting the biggest one. No exceptions. He doesn’t care if that teddy bear is the same size as you. He definitely won’t carry it for you though, and you’re the one that has to hold onto it when you’re riding with him later

No matter how many times Max tells him not to come inside his store, he does it anyways. Once you know what he is, and what Max is, you try to convince him to go elsewhere. He’ll give you a look, and you’ll know it’s useless to try. He likes to pick out movies for you two to watch, and he’s genuinely interested in the movies that come out each month. He keeps you close when you’re in the store, and he either chastises your taste or gets into long, heated discussions about some of the classics.

If anyone dares to try to touch, or even talk to, you, they’re dead. Dead, dead, dead. This boy is possessive and jealous, and no one gets to have what’s his. A few date nights have ended early because of fights on the boardwalk. He always gives you a possessive kiss afterwards, as if to remind you who you belong to

Dwayne

Dwayne’s a quiet, reserved type of guy. He’s not super into PDA, but he still wants to have you near. It puts him at ease, so, even if he’s not touching you, he wants you close. He’ll probably sling an arm around your shoulders, tucking you under his arm and close to his chest as you move through the crowd. You’re not exactly complaining, and he likes to have you wrap your arm around his waist

He’ll probably pick a spot on the railing, lean against it, and the two will spend your night talking. He likes to people watch sometimes, but he’s more interested in you than anyone else around him. He wants to hear about your day, about schoot, work, family, anything. He’s all ears, and he only interrupts to ask for more information

If you’re hungry, he likes to find some place to sit down and eat. It’s a rare chance for you two to get some one-on-one time outside the cave, and he’ll sit across from you in a little booth in a random pizza shop on the boardwalk

The two of you will eat your slices, and he’ll hold your hand from across the table. He’ll give your hand a squeeze as you chat, and he’ll smile when it makes you flustered. He’ll pay for the meal, but if you’re really adamant then he’ll let you cover the tip

Dwayne likes to wander through the shops just as much as the other boys, but he hits different shops than they would. He likes to go inside the little bookstores littered around and squeezed between two other shops pouring with people.

The two of you will have to maneuver around eachother and the stacks of books, and he’ll practically hang off of you now that you’re semi-alone. He’ll grab books that are too high out of your reach and he’ll give you a smile as you thank him. He’ll lean against the shelves and flip through a book he hasn’t read before, but he’ll send glances your way to make sure you aren’t wandering off too far

If you’re completely alone in the bookstore he may sneak you a few kisses. If you just so happened to wander into the very back of the store, Dwayne might push you up against one of the shelves and lay a heavier one on you

He trails around you like a big teddy bear, and you could lead him up and down the boardwalk a thousand times if you wanted to. Really, he’s more interested in doing what you want to do

Dwayne is a pretty attractive guy, so he catches attention without even meaning to. It doesn’t help that he doesn’t wear a shirt. It’s become a thing that at least one person will try to talk to him while you two are out, and he always makes it painfully clear that he is not interested. He does this by glaring at them until they leave him alone, walking away, or finding you and pulling you in for a rare kiss on the boardwalk. Your nights usually end when he decides to take you to the beach so you can make a bonfire and stargaze

Marko

He considers himself the PDA king. Kisses, hand-holding, arms draped around your shoulders or waist, and hands in your back pocket. He’s down with anything, even holding your pinky. 

He’s a bit of an adrenaline junkie, so expect lots of rides. He’ll hold you from behind the entire time you’re in line, trailing kisses down your neck even if you whine and complain that you’re in public. 

Marko does not care. He thinks you look good enough to eat, let alone kiss. He’ll prop his chin on your shoulder instead, and you can feel the grin on his face when he nuzzles into your hair

When you two go on the rollercoasters, he wants to be in the very first cart. If you’re scared, he’ll hold you close and coo at you for being too cute. He may tease you and call you a baby, but he’ll make up for it with ice-cream afterwards

Speaking of food, you and Marko don’t eat until after all the rides. Marko likes to spend a lot of time in the amusement park, and you two only leave ‘cause you’re starved. He’ll grab you some take out and you two can eat it as you walk up and down the boardwalk. Ice-cream, as promised, for dessert, and then the two of you will hit the arcade

He loves all the games inside, especially the new ones that come out each year. You two definitely compete to see who can get the highest highscore, and the winner gets to choose their next game. God forbid he picks pac-man. You can’t beat him and two will be in front of that game for the rest of the night.

Marko will take you to the carnie games next, and you’ll laugh at how they’ll heckle you to play. When you finally see a prize you like, Marko’s determined to win it for you. No matter the game and no matter how much cash he has to fork over. 

It doesn’t matter how big the plushie is, and he’ll always brandish it to you with a look of pure triumph on his face. He’ll smile whenever he looks over and sees you carrying it for the rest of the night, and he’ll even hold it for you and play with it himself

Your nights usually end after he takes you on the ferris wheel. As a couple, usually you’d only kiss when you get stopped at the top. Not when you’re dating Marko. He wants to kiss you the moment the ride starts moving, and only kiss you harder when you get stopped at the top. It’s a rare time that you actually get to see Santa Carla from this view. 

If you complain, he’ll offer to fly you up and give you a perfect eagle view instead. Free of charge

Paul

This boy is the definition of handsy. Like Marko, he does not give a single frick about PDA. If he wants to hold your hand, he’s holding your hand. If he wants a kiss, he’s spinning you towards him and laying one on you. If he wants to grab your butt- Okay, he’ll have some restraint when it comes to that and will hide it by slipping his hand into your back pocket

He likes to hold your hand as you walk up and down the boardwalk. He loves how small your hands are in his, and he’ll giggle like an idiot as he compares your hand sizes. 

This boy is all about the live shows. The minute he hears there’s something going down on the beach, he’s there. You can stand by the railing or be apart of the crowd, he doesn’t mind either. He will head-bang wildly if the band really rocks, and watching him double over the railing to do so is definitely an interesting sight. If you hit the crowd, he’s dancing with you the entire time. He takes this as an opportunity to grab you as much as he likes, and he’ll laugh loudly if you try to swat away his hands. “Oh, c’mon, babe! I’m just getting into the music!”

If you’re hungry, then so is he! He’s got a wild case of the munchies almost all the time, vampire or not. You two can totally pig out together, and he’ll buy whatever he thinks looks good. You may need to fork over some cash just because he will literally spend all of his money on food. You have to grab a table because of your haul, and the two of you can try all sorts of weird combinations. “How do you think a hotdog and a candy apple will go together?”

After you’re done pigging out, it’s time for bumper cars! You two totally smash into eachother on purpose, and he’ll chase you around the track. He has no mercy, but if anyone else tries to go after you? Watch out! The two of you have teamed up and cornered many an unfortunate surf-nazi. Literally backing up only to ram right into them again until the attendant has to kick you two out for harassment

He goes straight for the strength test, and he always gives you a cocky grin as he picks up the mallet. He knows that you know he’s a vampire, but he still thinks it’s funny to walk up right after a super buff guy has failed and use enough strength that he nearly breaks the game. He’ll smile and pass you your prize, and the two of you will cackle at the bewildered expressions of those around you.

Finally, you two hit the record store. The two of you have spent many an hour in these four walls, and you know the store well. Paul likes to come “visit” some of his favorite albums that he doesn’t own yet. You have to stop him from tucking it under his shirt because, “Paul, you know your shirt is see-through, right?” 

You two always get kicked out when the shop attendant becomes suspicious, but he still manages to nab a cassette for you. No matter how many times you tell him you don’t condone stealing, you still take it. He’ll whine all night if you don’t

[readyplayerhobi]

Flower | 09

; Hoseok x Reader

; Genre: Fluff, slight angst

; Word Count: 4.2k

; Synopsis: You finally decide to take a dip into the world of online dating and find the Flower dating app. One of the top matches for you proves to be a guy who looks to be your complete opposite; tattooed, pierced, a metalhead and oh…incredibly handsome. What happens when you throw caution to the wind and reach out to him?

; A/N: A Christmas present for you all! This has been my favourite chapter of Flower so far so I hope you all enjoy it too! Please reblog if you enjoyed and let me know what you think in a comment or ask!

; Flower Masterpost

-

The knock on your front door causes you to pause, clothes in your hand as you put them into your washing machine. You’d been frantically cleaning for the last hour, tidying up your already clean apartment to make sure that it all looked good. When you’d run out of stuff to clean, you’d resorted to washing your clothes early. 

Just for something to do while you waited.

But now he’s here. Hoseok is here. At your apartment, for the first time. You’d been to his a few times now but he’d never been to yours. That had been your fault because you simply just hadn’t invited him. It hadn’t entered your head to do that. Not until Chungha got exasperated and pointed out that perhaps he’d like to see where you lived too.

She must have been right because Hoseok had eagerly accepted and so here you were. You’d finished work an hour and a half ago, the time spent since waiting for him to finish and head home to grab his stuff before coming to yours had given you plenty of time to fulminate.

Not only was Hoseok coming over to yours for the first time...but he was going to spend the night. He’d come up with a plan to drive you both to an amusement park a few hours away tomorrow, but it required getting up pretty early. As a result, you’d just blurted out that he could stay with you.

You could tell that he’d been a little shocked at your proposition, not because you were suggesting he stay but because it was you who was suggesting it. He probably hadn’t expected you to propose that for a while yet.

Especially not when you had plans to let him sleep in bed with you too. You’d discussed it with Chungha and Soyeon in depth, wondering whether you should make him sleep out on the couch for the night. They’d been adamant that you couldn’t do that given you were dating, and you’d been together for two months so why not just let him sleep next to you?

If he remained as polite as he’d been, he wouldn’t be putting any moves on you. 

The easy way you’d said yes to it and suggested it to him told you, and everyone else who knew you, that you really wanted him to stay over. To sleep next to you. Honestly, it had one of your fantasies. Alongside the sexual ones, sometimes you just thought about him holding you in bed, cuddling with him.

Tonight you were going to get to experience that.

Quickly putting the rest of your clothes into the machine, you pause for a moment as you wonder if it’s stupid of you to be washing your clothes. But you push the thought of the way as you add powder and detergent before turning it on. A final glance around your small apartment lets you see that everything is as clean as it’s going to get and you take in a deep breath, smoothing down your shirt.

Opening the door slowly, you smile at Hoseok as he stands there waiting, a backpack over his shoulder and a bright smile on his own face. “Hi...err...sorry, I was putting my washing on. For some reason. Err...come in.”

He laughs softly as he enters, toeing off his shoes and carefully placing them on the rack you have set up next to the door without even being asked to. Moving forward through the tiny hall, you gesture to the living room and attached kitchen with a nervous movement.

“Errm so...this is the living room, obviously. And the kitchen. The door you just passed is the bathroom and the other door is my bedroom. It’s not very big,” You feel yourself heat up in embarrassment as your hands twist together. “I mean...I can still barely afford it but it’s home at least.”

Hoseok looks around slowly, eyes darting everywhere as he takes in the decor of the place. You weren’t allowed to put things on the wall so the only decorations were on the bookcase in the corner, your television stand, your couch, the coffee table and the drawers next to the bookcase. Looking around, you take it in the same way he does.

A fluffy throw in slate grey is draped over the couch, covering both the back and the seat cushions while an array of interesting cushions and plushies cover it. Your Pusheen plush sits in pride of place but there’s also a bao bun with a smiley face, an overly cartoony calico cat stretched out along the back and a Jack Skellington face on the couch as well. 

Other plushies dot the room as well, from the set of Pokémon on the bookcase which included all the Eeveelutions you’d carefully collected over the years and various Pokéball’s to random cute ones and even a Pac-Man. Amongst all of that, was other stuff you’d collected; a range of animal shaped hand creams, a bunch of tiny Harry Potter chibi snow globes, some Funko POP figures featuring Disney characters along with a Totoro clock.

Random lights were currently turned on around the room including the PlayStation logo light, the Mario Mushroom light and a Yoshi egg. Part of you cringed as you took in how...colourful and pretty everything was compared to Hoseok. It looked so...delicate next to him.

He was stood there in black ripped jeans with a Guns n Roses shirt on, his tattoos the only thing that matched the room really. And yet he didn’t look disgusted by it, instead he just looked fascinated. Moving forward, he looked over the various books, Blu-Ray’s and video games you’d collected over the years along with the tiny Totoro figures that almost made up a little set.

“Oh my god...this is literally you in a room.” He marvelled, eyes wide as he took in the light shade that covered the light bulb hanging in the room. It was simple, just a curved circle but it was navy blue with tiny circles cut into little rockets and planets. When you turned it on, which was rarely, it made the room light up with a space theme.

“Err...yeah...I’m sorry, I know it’s a lot.” You apologise, rubbing at your forearm as you feel the swirl of negative feelings within you start to bubble. Already you’re regretting letting him into your home, into your safe space. This was where you felt most comfortable, where you felt happy. You only let people in that you trusted, and after two months you were pretty sure you could.

But it was still overwhelming, letting someone into the very private part of you and letting them see what made you happy.

“Don’t apologise, this is great. You’ve seen my place, it’s barren compared to this. I like it. It’s nice. Feels...cosy.” Hoseok said with a bright grin, white teeth flashing as you glanced at you before looking into your kitchen with eager curiosity.

The cuteness extends into there too, sweet woodland themed animal print oven gloves draped over the oven handle while a whole array of cute magnets cover the fridge along with pictures and important notices. A Totoro egg timer sits next to a little polka dot flower pot on the window sill while a cat themed calendar is propped up on the microwave.

A soft meow combined with pressure on his lower legs causes Hoseok to jump slightly, looking down before he grins even bigger. “Oh hello there! You must be Kasumi! Your mommy has told me so much about you.” He croons in a high pitched voice, the kind people only use on babies or animals.

But you can see the delight in his eyes as she sits in front of him, her cream fluffy coat combining with her dark paws and ears alongside astonishingly azure eyes to make her look like the prettiest cat ever. You were pretty sure that she was a ragdoll cat, which meant it was even more shocking that you’d found her in a shelter as a kitten. 

She observes Hoseok for a moment longer before meowing sweetly at him, pushing up to butt his hand with her head and he coos as he crouches down, stroking and talking absolute nonsense to her. You get the sense that he’s just fallen in love at first sight with your cat, the smile on his face bigger than anything you’d seen as she flops to the floor, belly presented and batting at his hand playfully.

“I’m gonna steal your cat.” He teases, looking up at you with playful eyes and you snort, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Over my dead body. She loves me anyway, right Kasumi?” At her name, her ears twitch and she looks at you upside down, letting out a soft mewl as her loud purrs reach you. You grin and crouch down, arms open as you make kissing noises to her and she immediately jumps up, rushing over to you. Standing back up with her in your arms, you smile smugly at Hoseok and wonder why on earth you’re suddenly competing with him over the affection of your own cat.

It looks like the thought runs through his head as well as he shakes it before walking over to you, dropping his backpack past you onto the couch before he places his hands on your waist. Leaning close, you feel your shoulders rising at his attention and he chuckles quietly.

“I guess I’ve got some competition then, huh?” He murmurs before kissing you, the gesture ever so gentle. It’s nothing intense, yet it fires you up in ways you’d never really considered before. Here, in your home, with your cat in your arms and your boyfriend kissing you, you feel happier than you can remember in recent memory. It feels...almost normal.

Hoseok pulls away quickly, smiling as he looks you up and down with a raised brow. “Can I go change if you’re in your pyjamas already?”

His tone is ever so slightly teasing and you look away, pressing your face into Kasumi’s soft fur to avoid the embarrassment.

“Yeah...sorry. I don’t...I don’t see the point in wasting clothes when I’m at home. Pyjamas or die you know?” He snorts in response, kissing your cheek before grabbing his backpack again.

“I get it, I’ll be back in a minute.”

-

It turns out that Hoseok’s pyjamas are just...his normal lounge clothes apparently. A pair of plain black sweatpants is combined with an overly large Star Wars shirt, a few holes in both items that cause you to raise a brow in amusement. A far cry from the matching set of pyjamas you’re wearing; a set of Marauder's Map leggings combined with a black shirt and a gold Hogwarts crest.

“You can tell our personalities just from what we’re wearing.” He looks up from his phone, brows raised before looking between you both with a lopsided smile. Without a word, he walks over to you and wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you to him tightly.

Body stiffening automatically without you even meaning, you force yourself to relax in his embrace. You still weren’t used to the open affection Hoseok lavished on you, the casual touches of his not normal enough for you to accept openly like you did with your friends and family. But you were getting there.

You just wished that you could extend the open affection to him in the same way. It was hard though, you weren’t naturally open to physical gestures like that. Normally you just accepted them, but you wanted to discover to be open with him.

Because as you melted into his arms, you realised that you really liked this.

“What are you trying to say, huh? That I’m ratty and old while you’re young and put together?” He teases, squeezing tightly while rocking you from side to side, putting just enough pressure that you have to stagger back as you giggle against his chest.

“No! I mean...you are older than me…” 

“Excuse you! I’m only two years older than you! Hardly Hugh Hefner here.” Hoseok protests, his voice loud but you can hear the playfulness in it. It makes you happy to hear that, knowing that he’s going along with you.

“You’re right...you don’t have as much money as him. I’m missing out.” At that, he leans back enough for you to see his face, his jaw dropped while he tries to stop a smile from spreading. It causes you to grin in response, squeezing him tightly in response before you press your face back to his chest. “It’s okay though, you’re pretty.”

“Wow...okay. Does that make me the Playboy Bunny in this situation?” You snort, hands lowering without even meaning to and making him jerk in surprise as you squeeze his ass without even thinking. The very ass that your friends had teased you about weeks ago.

“How do you look with bunny ears and a tail?” 

He moves away at that, eyeing you suspiciously as he bites his lower lip, the flesh disappearing between his teeth. “Let’s never find out, shall we?”

“Awww. There’s people who find that kinky. They get dressed up as animals and stuff. Sometimes it’s just...they just wanna dress up but sometimes they dress up and it’s like...they wanna have sex in those suits.” Hoseok just stares at you in disgust, looking away before nodding slowly.

“Sounds great. I’m never doing that. Just want you to know,” he pauses, looking up at the ceiling before cringing and shrugging. You’re suddenly reminded of that woman trying alcohol meme as he makes a considering face. “Okay maybe I’d try it once if you were into it but I don’t think it’s for me.”

You steadfastly avoid his face at that, body heating rapidly at the thought of him thinking about having sex with you knew he probably had. If you were thinking that way about him, then there was no one way someone like him wasn’t thinking that way too. And it was a very strange sensation to know that he wanted you like that.

So you just gestured to the couch, watching as he sits down and scoops Kasumi into his lap. A quick phone call gets you food ordered from your favourite Chinese place, Hoseok stating his preferences to you as he flicks through Netflix and strokes the fluff ball he’s holding.

The next few hours pass by in a food coma bliss of delicious food combined with both of you starting a show on Amazon instead called The Boys. It had surprised you both with how violent and gory it was yet you enjoyed it thoroughly, much to Hoseok’s amusement. Maybe he thought your love of cute things meant that you didn’t like that kind of stuff but you enjoyed it just as much.

You both made it through three episodes before you found yourself getting tired, it was nearing 11pm and as lame as it made you sound...you were someone who went to sleep a bit earlier than that. It amused Hoseok when your head started to loll onto his shoulder, the pleasant warmth and comfort of his body as you cuddled up together lulling you into drowsiness.

Which was why when the episode finally ended, he stood up and gently pulled you up as well. “Come on sleepy, I think it’s time for bed. Sometime’s tired.” He was using that voice that he’d used on Kasumi earlier, and part of you wanted to protest it but you were too drowsy to bother. So instead, you went around the room after shaking his hands off to turn off all the lights.

Hoseok went to the bathroom while you did that, telling you that he was just going to go to the toilet and brush his teeth. By the time you had finished cleaning everything up and throwing the empty Chinese cartons away, he was standing a little awkwardly outside your bedroom.

Smiling, you opened the door and let him in. “You can go in.”

He gave a little smile before heading in and pausing as he looked around once more. Your room was barely big enough for the double bed in it, one side pressed up against the wall while a bedside table rested next to it. A wardrobe was next to that and a chest of drawers along with a mirror. 

“Err...sorry...it’s a little cramped.” You say quietly, rubbing your arms nervously once more and he just shakes his head at you with a small sigh that sounds more amused than you’d expected.

“You need to stop apologising for everything. It’s fine, honestly. Don’t stress yourself over it.” He heads over to the bed and looked down at it, teeth clanking against his lip ring as it looked down. “I’m gonna guess that you sleep on this side?” 

Pointing at the side closest to the bedside table, you go to nod before realise he’s being rhetorical. It was blatantly obvious which side you slept on, given the other side was covered in a large array of plushies. From more Pokémon to a Star Wars teddy, Toothless from How To Train Your Dragon, a cute cat face, a fluffy llama and so much more. 

The side Hoseok would be sleeping on was covered in them and you cover your face in dual embarrassment and horror, realising that you’d blatantly forgotten to clean it off for him. “Err...yeah. You can just...put them on the floor or something. Sorry, I mean…” 

You cut yourself off from apologising again at his look but he just smiles and shrugs. “It’s okay, I’ll sort it out.”

Quickly, you leave the room to prevent any further embarrassment for you. Sometimes you really wondered why Hoseok stayed with you given how different you both obviously were. The thought made your chest hurt and you pressed as it, frowning as you did your own nightly routine. It took a little longer than Hoseok’s as you had a whole skincare routine to go through and so ten minutes later you walked back in with a face mask on.

He was lying on his back, pillows propped up behind him as he looked through his phone and you noted with amusement the little ice cream plush that was still situated next to him. In fact...he made the most bizarre image laid there.

Your bedding was white, with tiny rainbows ending in clouds interspersed with yellow stars and little cartoons unicorns and pegasus that jumped and frolicked. You liked your bedding to look as cute as everything else, only it looked childish with him in it now.

His tattoos look at complete odds with it all, dark hair pushed back and making him look even hotter than ever with it all messed up. He looked dark and brooding in your bed, anathema to your bedding and it was both adorable and bizarrely attractive. 

A sudden thought rushes through your head that one day, if everything goes right, you’ll be having sex with him in that bed. Cheeks heating, you quickly rush forward and sit on the bed carefully, plugging your phone into the charger before looking back over at him.

“Do you need your phone charging too? I have another cable and plug.” You offer and he lets out a noise, head turning towards you before his eyes finally pull away. When he finally notices your face, he jerks away in shock before his face contorts and he squints at you.

“The fuck is on your face? Are you cosplaying Michael Myers or something?” Hoseok mutters, leaning forward a bit and looking you over. You try not to laugh, not wanting the face mask to move and you push at his face lightly.

“Don’t make me laugh, you’ll ruin it. It’s just a face mask, my night routine.” Laying back on the bed, he pulls a face at you.

“You do that every night? Isn’t it tiring?” You shake your head, checking in your Twitter feed as you wait for the time to pass until you can take it off again. “Is that why your skin always looks so pretty? Or is that makeup?”

“Hoseok! I haven’t worn makeup the last three times we’ve met up. You haven’t noticed between that and makeup?” He just stares at you for a moment before shrugging, his hand suddenly running along your back in slow and steady movements. It feels like electricity moves through your body as he does so, but you can’t tell any sexual intention behind it.

“I feel like no matter what I say here...I’m going to get myself in trouble. So...I will be smart and say that you look beautiful with and without makeup.” His smile is boylike then, making his entire face look far younger than he actually is and you sighed softly in defeat, shaking your head before checking the clock on your bedside table. “Why does your clock look like that?”

You pull off the face mask and throw it into the small trash can underneath the table, gently patting at your face to get the excess moisture to absorb. Glancing at the clock, you note it’s unusual shape and size while the orange numbers glow.

“It’s one of those clocks that simulate sunrise to help make it easier to wake up in the morning. I struggle with feeling tired and in winter I never want to get up. Err...I tend to get a little...or a lot...depressed with it. So I got this because daylight is meant to make you happier so ten minutes before my alarm goes off, it starts to light up and simulate a sunrise. It works pretty well in fairness.” You finish, rubbing your cheeks before grabbing the next step of your routine.

“Really? Huh. Cool.” He hands you his phone once you’ve finished, turning onto his side watching you intently. The attention makes you feel warm inside and finally you’re ready to go to bed, lifting the covers and cautiously sliding in next to him. It feels warm and comfortable as usual, your pillow and bedding maximised for comfort.

Reaching over, you turn off the lamp, leaving you both in darkness. The room feels oppressively silent at that moment before you realise that you can hear his breathing next to you. Suddenly, you feel hyper aware of his every movement and sound, your own body stiff beneath the covers.

A few minutes pass by like that, you unsure what to do now and too tense to sleep even after feeling so drowsy earlier. And then suddenly Hoseok reaches out, his hand resting on your stomach tentatively before stroking gently when you don’t react.

“You’re so tense.” He laughs softly and you feel the need to apologise again. But you hold it back, knowing that you have no reason to apologise. Hoseok knows by now what you’re like, he’s aware of your shy and awkward nature and he must know how out of your comfort zone you’re feeling right now.

Which is why you appreciate how slow he moves, his hand spreading heat through your stomach as his slow movements lead you to relaxing ever so slightly. He keeps doing it, his breathing just as hypnotising and you find your eyelids fluttering shut as the earlier drowsiness comes back.

“Can you turn over? On your side?” Hoseok asks softly, hand pausing and it takes a few seconds for you to acknowledge what he’d said. But you do so, shifting lazily until your back is facing him and your head is pressed comfortably into the pillow with your hand slotted beneath both pillows.

And then carefully shuffles up behind you, a warm and heavy weight sliding around your waist as he wraps an arm around you. Pulling slightly, he tugs you into a more comfortable position and you’re suddenly wide awake again. Even though you’ve been cuddled up with him before on a couch, it’s somehow completely different now that you’re lying together in bed.

Every bit of his front presses to your back and you’ve never been so aware of someone else. He feels like a furnace behind you, though you’re not sure if that’s because he actually is warm or if it’s because your body is burning hot. But you like it, as nervous as it makes you feel.

Your limbs feel like you could go outside and run a marathon yet the idea of leaving the bed is so far beyond you. His warm breath gently puffs against your neck as he settles a little more and you swallow hard, forcing your body to relax as you get used to the feeling. It’s been a long time since you’ve slept next to someone, and you’d never felt comfortable with them.

But you do with him. You do with Hoseok.

And without even realising it, your wandering mind begins to drift off as you lay there comfortably, feeling safe and content about everything. 

[shownusaurus]

Summary: you have always been told that the line between love and hate is thin. well, so is the line between love and friendship.

Pairing: Son Hyunwoo x Reader

Featuring: Monsta X Ensemble

The first time you see him, he's wearing a tawny, v-neck crochet cardigan with nothing underneath and some white leather pants. You're so distracted by his friend though that you walk straight into him, and your steaming tea flies out of the cup you'd previously been fiddling with and onto his practically bare chest. Not to worry though, because it also flies back onto you and scolds your hand, and while you let out a small yelp and shake your hand, dropping your cup and effectively staining his friend's white shoes.

He ends up laying across your couch for the rest of the evening and night as you'd insisted you tend to the scald, and you soon learn that his name is Hyunwoo. When he tells you, his friend Hoseok leans forward to hold the pack to Hyunwoo's skin as it seems you've sunken into a daze that makes the aforementioned cackle with glee.

You're all quick to become friends even though you suspect Hyunwoo's become annoyed with your neverending apologies for having spilt your tea all over him. Hoseok watches the two of you fondly, happy for his friend as he notices the hearts in his eyes, and with your permission acquaints himself with your extensive ramyeon collection.

If he notices the moons you're making right back at Hyunwoo, he doesn't comment, but you know he does as he sits on your armchair and slurps noisily at the noodles he's eating with your nice chopsticks, cheeks puffed out and neck bent so that the noodles don't slip from between the two sticks, though his eyes are on you and he seems to be smirking as best he can.

They stay the night eventually as it starts snowing heavily outside, Hyunwoo on the couch after he'd fallen asleep, and embarrassingly, Hoseok and you share the bed. He crackles loudly when your face flares up but promises you're not his type and there'd be no funny business as long as you could keep your hands to yourself. You don't know whether to be insulted or thankful.

After that, you three spend a lot of time together. Your hand heals although there is a scar that fades within the month, and as it turns out Hyunwoo has super-human healing abilities and the blotch where you'd spilt your drink is gone within two weeks. You use your envy of his "abilities" to touch his abs whenever you can, and you have a feeling he knows, but he doesn't let on either way.

Hoseok is another thing entirely. When you let it slip accidentally that the reason you'd even bumped into Hyunwoo was because you'd been enraptured by his, as you so eloquently put it, "bulging man titties", he collapses to the ground, holding his stomach as his muscles contract with his laughter. You notice Hyunwoo deflate at your side as you say it, though, and for the next few days he's even quieter than usual, and shows up on the third day of avoiding you wearing what you think is probably the sluttiest shirt he owns. He smirks every time he notices your eyes trailing down to his chest, and you don't like that, the smug son of a bitch. You mistakenly turn it into a competition between Hoseok and Hyunwoo with who has the best tiddies, and they invite over Hyungwon, Hoseok's boyfriend, to help decide.

You're both naturally biased, and as much as you're awkward around strangers, you two seem to get along quite well. He's definitely one of the prettiest boys you'd ever seen and the minute you see him you snap about their friend group being just gorgeous men and how it's unfair, and all three of them crack up. The competition begins then, and although it's definitely obvious that Hoseok's man tits are absolutely ginormous and he's probably more swole than fucking Superman, jaws- specifically yours- drop when Hyunwoo pulls out his last defense definition.

He vibrates his tiddies.

The noise you let out is not human at all, and the way your eyes widen and cheeks puff is a dead giveaway to your embarrassment at having even made that noise- a cross between a wheeze and a whine-, nobody comments on your flustered state but everybody decides they need to mimick the noise you made. You faceplant the nearest cushion, much to everyone's amusement. Hoseok has made his way into your ramyun collection again.

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

Things actually get heated the first time that you and Hyunwoo are alone together. He'd taken you on a slow walk, it being around 9pm. Hyungwon, Hoseok and Kihyun had been left at your house and the way they'd been sucked into Supernatural you'd imagine they hadn't even noticed you'd gone.

You come to a stop in the park, hands brushing against each other shyly until he eventually slides his fingers between yours, a gentle smile gracing his already beautiful face. You look up at him then, staring, eyes wide and lips open. When he looks at you he feels heat bloom across his chest and cheeks, and he squeezes your hand tightly in his own. You squeeze back and suddenly it feels like his heart is constricted in his chest. You look so beautiful then, the moonlight framing your hair perfectly and casting a ghostly glow across your cheeks, accentuating every curve of your face in a way that reminds him so much of stories of Artemis it's uncanny.

He hears you murmur something beneath your breath and when his eyes snap to yours inquisitively, body moving to angle so that he's facing you directly, your other hand moves up to trail so gently across his cheek that he barely feels your touch, only the heat coming off you. He wants to close his eyes and sink into you, but you speak before he can, and his adams apple bobs in his throat, eyes trailing to the ground.

"I can see stars in your eyes." you'd murmured, and the smile that lights up his features is heavenly, the pleasant clench in your chest a reminder of your feelings, the happiness that blooms within you at having that smile directed at you and only you. His hand comes up to grasp yours and he presses it against his face further, sinking into your gentle caress with a happy sigh, eyes closing and figure relaxing curving into your own. His other hand, the one that had been holding yours the whole time, released yours and found its way to your waist, pulling you flush against him. You don't think, but let your body tell you, and your arm eventually comes up to snake around the back of his neck, your other hand eventually finding it's way to your own while his comes to gently touch your own cheek.

Your eyes droop as he leans down, his own eyes heavy, breathing slow and relaxed. He stops before your lips touch and you whine needily as he chuckles, nose brushing intimately against your own, foreheads pressed together. His hand moves to the nape of your neck, tangling in the hairs there as he pulls you forward slightly so that you're now stood on your tiptoes. Your lips brush against each other and you want to dive forward and smash your lips together, but the intimacy of taking it slow holds you back.

He nuzzle his nose against yours, brows furrowed but not unhappily, a large sigh falling past his lips. His natural woodsy scent combined with the smell of fading cologne encompasses you in much the same way his arms have, and as his lips finally press to yours oh so gently... So does the smell of alcohol.

It's like your heart cracks in your chest. You fall back onto the heels of your feet, ruining the moment entirely, and as your eyes snap open so do his. He looks confused, maybe even hurt as your hands slide down his chest and fall limply to your sides, but it doesn't compare to the emotional pain you currently feel. His grip on your hip slacks enough for you to slip from his hands, though he holds on for a moment before finally letting go as his eyes search yours.

It's a wonder, considering you'd been staring so intently into them, that you hadn't noticed the haziness of his eyes and the slight lazy look about him that wasn't usually there. How didn't you smell the alcohol before? you ask yourself as you take another step back, and finally his own arms fall to his sides. Now he does look confused, enough to open his mouth and lick his lips slowly before questioning you, and you bark out a harsh laugh that makes him flinch where he stands.

"As if you don't know, Son Hyunwoo." you whimper, looking down where your hands have clasped in front of you. He looks even more confused now than he had before and he tries to take a step forward but the toe of his boot catches on a slab and he stumbles, though corrects himself fairly quickly. You tremble as he rights himself and comes to stare into your own eyes, and if you hadn't known any better you'd have thought he actually looked sad when he saw the tears in your eyes.

"What-" he starts, but you snap then, and a stubborn, salty tear rolls down your cheek. His heart clenches in his chest, but it's not the same as before- now his Artemis is hurting, and... and it hurts.

You sneer harshly and this time he steps back, more confused than ever with how your face has twisted into a vicious, sad snarl. "I can smell the alcohol on you, Hyunwoo." you snip, your voice shaking with anger and pain, your arms wrapping around yourself as if to comfort yourself.

"Whatever, Hyunwoo. I thought you were different." and that's the last thing you say to him for two weeks. You turn and begin the trek home, all the while he's walking along behind you and begging for you to listen, to understand. You ignore him as best you can, but you eventually burst into hysterical sobs as tears cascade down your face. He watches your shoulders shake and your steps stutter and he offers to carry you the rest of the way, but he gets no response, only your slow steps in the direction of your home.

He slows down too, he wouldn't dare walk beside you with you feeling this way because of him. When you eventually burst into your apartment and startle the other three out of their hyperfixation on the show you run into your room straight away. Hyunwoo is faster than you and steps in front of the doorway, but you slide under his arm and slam the door behind you, sliding down the other side and allowing yourself to succumb entirely to your pain.

He frantically beats against the door, calling your name as his eyes start to swim, but he gets no response and lets his forehead fall against the thin door with a thud, fists resting on the door at the side of his neck. He trembles but doesn't cry, and the apartment fills with the sound of your hurt.

When he eventually turns and looks at the others, Hyungwon and Kihyun are sat together in the corner, side eyeing him with clenched jaws, but neither say anything.

It's two weeks before you speak to him again. He comes over with Hoseok, Kihyun, Hyungwon and Minhyuk still, but it's rare- where he'd come over almost every day before, now you've only seen him twice. Each time you see him it's a reminder of the pain you feel, but when he's away it hurts, too.

But Hoseok, sweet, sweet Hoseok- he's pissed.

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

Kihyun becomes your comfort. Hyungwon and Hoseok are there for you if you need it, but neither are good with emotions and Hoseok starts crying if he sees you crying, so you can't really lean on him in a time where you spend most of your days wasting away in front of the TV, watching sappy romcoms and crying into your bowl of ice cream. There has been the odd time Hoseok has sat with you and cried into your ramyun, but emotions are exhausting and you don't expect him to have to put up with yours and his every time he comes over. Minhyuk is aware of what happened but you met him after, and while he's a ball of sunshine always trying to cheer you up, it's not the same. Kihyun is there as a shoulder to cry on, as a protective wall between you and Hyunwoo when he's there, as someone who dries your tears if you're too tired to do it yourself.

Unbeknownst to you, Hyunwoo spends a lot of his time at home, curled up on the sofa eating his sorrows too- he doesn't cry half as much as you do, but he still cries sometimes. His muscles have softened slightly because he hasn't been working out as much, but he doesn't care right now. If you're not there to look he doesn't want anyone to, and so he doesn't care all that much about a softening belly as he might have before.

Changkyun and Jooheon are there for his comfort. Changkyun is funny and spirited, and he keeps his mind off things. His boyfriend, Jooheon, is much more soft around the edges, there to offer tissues if needed or just let Hyunwoo cry onto his shoulder.

And then, Kihyun shows up. He's angry and tired from looking after you, and his recently dyed orange hair reflects his current mood. He sneers as he presses his finger into the center of Hyunwoo's chest, eyes piercing and teeth clenched as he tells him that he better sort things out with you or so help him god, he'd shove his foot somewhere the sun doesn't shine, because you talk about him as if he hung the stars in the sky for you even still.

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

It takes him two days, but he hits the gym harder than he ever has before, shaves his itchy stubble and takes a long, hot shower before he works up the courage to come to your house alone.

When you answer the door your breath catches in your throat. Hyunwoo. He looks good all things considered, but you can see the slight thinning of his cheeks and the purple circles peeking out from beneath a light concealer Kihyun had no doubt made him put on. He looks good, but he somehow looks awful, too. You'd have thought it would be nice to know that he was suffering as well as you, but it doesn't help. It just hurts. You don't go to close the door like you should. He walks in anyway, slowly as if to make sure you'd let him. You don't stop him and you curse yourself for it as you turn around to make sure you have at least one eye on him, the door closing behind you.

You stare at each other for what feels like a century, until your eyes get so dry they itch and you have to look away after you've blinked the water back into your eyes. He gestures to the couch as if to ask you to sit down but you stubbornly stay standing, eyes narrowing slightly. He sighs, anxiety spiking even more, but he takes your hand and leads you to the sofa anyway. This time you do sit, but the shame builds in your chest as you do. He sits beside you, your legs pressed together and his spread apart. Your hands land in your lap but he reaches forward to grasp them in his own, soft from lotion with a few callusouses from working out. It surprises him that you don't pull away, so he lets himself take advantage of the moment to run his thumb gently over the back of your own hands before he begins speaking.

"I know I hurt you." he starts, peaking up through his lashes to gaze into your eyes. Even now, you can't help but to compare them to the sparkling stars in the sky, so bright and beautiful. He swallow harshly, but keeps going. "I should have considered things better, like how you would feel if the guy you like suddenly came onto you while he was drunk-"

Your ears are ringing. The butterflies in your stomach suddenly turn to bees, buzzing frantically and looking for a way out. You feel sick.

He knew?

"Hold on." you mutter, looking up at him through your lashes with an icy gaze that makes his breath hitch in his throat and his jaw snap shut, shuffling uncomfortably under the weight of your glare. It looked as if he was trying to look anywhere except at you. "You're telling me you knew about my feelings? And you still did it?"

You waited for confirmation or rebuttal, but got nothing except the awkward clearing of his throat and his grip tightening around your hands, though his chocolate eyes were looking right back at you now. You refused to think about the glittering stars you saw in them, the hope and dreams. Instead, you ripped your hands away from his grip and stood up quickly, shaking off his hand as it tried to catch your wrist while you walked toward the counter that separated your kitchen and sitting room. He looked on worriedly, shoulders hunched in on himself as he watched you through his thick lashes.

"You're telling me that you manipulated my feelings, then? What, did you hope that if you showed some interest, knowing I liked you, that I'd drop my panties straight away?" you sneered angrily, leaning against the counter and turning your head so you could see him out of the corner of your eye.

Were it any other time you might have laughed at the offense on his face when he heard what you said, but as it were you could hear the shuffle of clothing and then the squeak of his shoes as he approached, speaking quickly, "So that's what you think of me, baby? I swear it's-" he began, but was quickly cut off by your angry ranting as you whirled around, spearing him with your burning gaze.

"Don't you call me that, Son Hyunwoo. It's not like that, huh? Then tell me why that's exac-" but, this time, it was you being cut off. You jolted where you stood as he seemed to lose all patience, chest puffing as his voice rose above yours, a sharp 'let me speak!' carrying throughout the room. Somewhere in the back of your head you thought that he evidently hadn't had much to eat today, since that's why he is usually irritable, but you shoved that thought away for the time being.

As your eyes moved to the kitchen window you idly thought of how it was starting to get dark out, how the stars would be out soon, and a sharp pain bloomed in your chest as you immediately thought of his eyes, gentle chocolate irises that always seemed to glitter with the light of the stars in them. "Look at me when I'm taking to you." he snapped, walking forward to place his arms around you on the counter.

Irritated, you looked back at him and jabbed your finger into the center of his chest, scoffing at his tone and commands. "No, you don't get to tell me wh-"

You blinked. He had surged down when he heard you start talking, his lips forcefully pushed onto yours to shut you up, eyes squeezed shut tightly and a hand holding your wrist down on the counter that you'd used to jab at him when he'd snapped.

It took a moment, but you pushed the thoughts of allowing yourself to relax into the kiss away and instead wriggled your wrist as much as you could until you eventually managed to get out of his grip, now using both hands to beat and push against his chest as if you'd be able to force him off you. When that didn't work and his lips stayed glued to yours, his body still crowded into your personal space, you wrenched your head back with a gasp and shoved him as hard as you could, angry tears dripping down your cheeks.

"Son Hyunwoo, you bastard! Get away from me! Get off! Get-" but this time you were cut off by your own sob, your hurt having bubbled to the surface while you had been preoccupied with detaching your lips from his however you could. Miserable tears dribbled down your cheeks, your cheeks hot and eyes rapidly swelling. You beat harshly against his chest, the power behind each punch getting less and less until you were left leaning against his chest, your ear against his heart while you sobbed pathetically, hands slapping lightly with as much power as you had left in you. Your cries were frantic and loud, breaths coming in quick bursts before being cut off again by another few hiccups and coughs, or a sniffle. Your lack of air had begun to make you panic slightly too, but you were distracted by the feeling of Hyunwoo resting his chin on your head, pressing a light kiss to your crown while his arms came up to wrap around your smaller frame, caging you into a bear hug while his veiny hands ran up and down your spine, whispering gentle words of comfort into your hair.

He waited until you had calmed down slightly before he spoke again, eyes reopening from when they'd closed while you had been in his embrace. He lifted you onto the counter quickly, his hands sliding down to grasp your waist before he moved to stand in the space between your thighs, hands moving so he could gently wipe away your tears. It was silent for a moment then aside from your slowly calming sobs, the occasional hiccup, cough or sniffle too.

He stood almost completely still save for the slow rise and fall of his chest, thumbs delicately stroking your hips as your own arms rose to wipe away any fresh tears with your sleeve. "Oh, baby, I'm so sorry." he sighed, brushing damp stray hairs away from your face. "Look at me, Y/N. Please." he murmured, lifting your chin as you sniffle again, looking up at him through your damp eyelashes. "Aw, look at you, you're so precious." he chuckled, eyes running up and down your weak state. You huffed then, hands falling to land on your bare knees with a light slapping sound. "I don't know how you thought I did any of that just to get into your pants, Y/N, you oblivious little doll. If I had a flower for every time I thought of you, I could walk through my garden forever."

He hummed, watching with a certain softness as you seemed to preen, pushing a few strands of hair behind your ear while your bottom lip tucked between your teeth. Oh how he wanted to lean down and take it between his in that moment, but he held back, blinking slowly as his hand came up to stroke his chin and jaw nervously. You watched him for a moment, eyes stinging and sight blurry from any remaining tears, and then finally spoke again, voice hoarse from crying so loudly for so long. "You mean that?" you asked, sniffling.

He chuckled, nodding as he pulled you closer to him by your hips, his tight green tee straining against his muscle with the movement of his shoulders. You smiled then, ruffling your hair as embarrassment crept up on you, heat flooding your face, neck and chest. He was half-tempted to aw at you but after quick consideration decided against it, not willing to risk the quiet peace the two of you had in that moment.

Instead, regarding you with a cautious gaze, he brought a hand up to hold against your cheek, leaning forward to rest his forehead against yours while your noses brushed together gently, eyes falling closed by themselves as you stood, simply breathing each other in. A rumble sounded from his chest that sounded almost like a cat's purr and you smiled, leaning up slightly so that your lips nearly brushed, his hand stroking your cheek and the other wrapping around your waist while your arms came up to snake around the back of his neck.

"I love you, Y/N." he spoke, his voice quiet as if he was trying not to disturb the peaceful moment. You grinned, breath catching in your throat as euphoria flooded through you, as if the stars had personally graced you with their brilliant, bright light. "I love you too." you spoke, keeping your own voice down and your eyes closed gently, a jolt running up your spine as he nuzzled his nose against yours, moving so that his lips barely trailed across your cheekbones and your jaw before moving up to press a little kiss against each of your eyelids and then your forehead, and then finally, moved back down so that his lips were right in front of yours, but made no move to press them against yours. Instead, you heard a gentle hum as he pulled you even closer, your legs now able to wrap around his waist comfortably, and then finally, his soft, soothing voice carried through every part of your soul with one simple request, "Kiss me."

And you did.

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

The next day, Hyunwoo listened with a soft smile as you told Hoseok about what happened, the other boy nodding along whenever he felt it necessary, eyes wide and lips open, completely absorbed in your story. His chest warmed as he heard what you said, placing the last dish on the drying rack for the night and reaching out for a towel.

"He touched me and it felt as if the stars were dancing across my skin."

[cake-writes]

Compromise (Part Six)

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Story Warnings: Mom!Reader, Dad!Bucky, Ex-Relationship, Co-Parenting Drama, Slow Burn, Angst, Fluff, Separation Anxiety

Summary: You didn’t want to trust him again, because every time you did, Bucky broke your heart just a little more. Deep down, though, you wanted to get along with him. You wanted to be amicable. You wanted your daughter to know her father. You’d always wanted that. It just required a compromise.

Part Five / Master List / Spotify Playlist

It wasn’t a long drive – just long enough for you to get tongue-tied, but thankfully your radio decided to work today. The music gave a little bit of ambience to the otherwise awkward silence, save for Winnie’s cheerful singing and Bucky’s helpful directions.

The closer and closer you got to the car dealership, however, the more worried you became.

He wasn’t taking you there, was he?

He wouldn’t.

No, he was.

Fuck.

“Bucky,” you said in exasperation, pulling into one of the parking spots outside of the dealership. “A Land Rover is way too much money.”

“Safety features, sweetheart,” he reminded you as he opened the car door, and then he climbed out of your small car – something you might have found hilarious if not for the matter at hand. “Come on. It’s not gonna buy itself.”

Then he shut the door, leaving no room for argument.

Ever the drama queen, you groaned and slowly got out while Bucky deftly unbuckled Winnie from her car seat. God, this was a mistake. You were scared to even look at the price tag, let alone touch any of the display models for fear of scratching them or breaking them, or – something. Why did you let him talk you into this?

Bucky’s brows rose in amusement as he popped your daughter up on his shoulders, and he asked her, “Princess, you don’t bite your nails like Mommy, do you?”

That was when you realized your fingertip was in your mouth, and you quickly yanked it out.  

Winnie shook her head. “Nope! Mommy says it’s a nasty habit.”

“A nasty habit, huh?” he remarked, giving you a roguish grin – the very one that made you fall for him to begin with – as the three of you started to walk through the car yard. “I wouldn’t go that far.”

“It is a nasty habit,” you protested, before you looked up at Winnie. “Don’t bite your nails, honey. Daddy’s a bad influence.”

Winnie nodded, but she gave you that same stupid grin that Bucky had on his face. Oh yeah, she was his daughter, alright – but she was clearly yours, too, when she spoke so matter-of-factly in that cute voice of hers, “See, Daddy? It’s a nasty habit!”

“Okay, okay,” he said, laughing. “You win.”

The next thirty seconds or so were spent in silence as you checked out one SUV in particular. It was tall – so much that you had to get up on your tiptoes to peer through the tinted windows.

Then you glimpsed the price tag and nearly had a heart attack.

Nope. Not that one.

You only managed to take a couple of steps away before Bucky’s hand caught yours. Your heart instantly leapt into your throat at the familiar feeling of cool vibranium against your palm, especially when he gave a gentle tug to spin you around.

Heart pounding, your eyes snapped to his – such a soft, beautiful blue and full of appreciation.

“Listen, I know how hard this is for you, so…” With a single squeeze, he let go. “Thanks.”

Your throat was suddenly so dry, all you could do was nod.

Even still, it was surprisingly easy to fall into step beside him as he pointed things out to Winnie – different types of cars, different parts, different prices. He asked her to read some of the numbers out, which she tried to do; and for a couple of them, she was even successful.

“Good job, baby,” you praised her. “That’s a ‘three’!”

“Just like us,” Winnie said happily.

“That’s right,” Bucky chimed in. “Just like us.”

After a good half-hour of aimless wandering, you managed to select a couple of models for a test drive. Bucky held open the glass-paned door to the main office for you with his metal hand, and with the other, he held Winnie’s small one. She’d started whining for the bathroom a couple minutes prior.

It was easy to find a salesman, of course, but what he greeted you with caught you off guard. “What a lovely family! Looking for some extra room?”

Extra room for another child.

You must have had some awful look on your face, because Bucky glanced over at you for a moment before he smoothly intervened, “We’ve already got a couple models in mind that we’d like to take for a test drive.”

“Of course, sir! Which ones?”

“Sorry, where can we use the restroom?” you interrupted, to which the salesman pointed over to a corner by some offices. There, you spotted the sign hanging overhead, so you held your hand out to Winnie. “Thanks. Come on, baby. You said you had to go, right?”

She took your hand and nodded, sucking absentmindedly on her thumb – something she only did when there was a problem. She didn’t do it very often.

“Be right back,” you told Bucky, purposely ignoring the salesman in favour of getting your little girl to the bathroom.

“I’ll be here,” Bucky said with a smile, but it didn’t quite meet his eyes.

Neither did yours.

After the two of you had relieved yourselves and washed your hands, you got her to take a seat in the plush armchair right outside the bathroom. Then you knelt in front of her to ask, “What’s the matter, baby?”

Winnie frowned, thumb still in her mouth.

“Come on, sweetpea,” you eased gently. “You know Mommy can’t help unless you say what’s wrong.”

Slowly, she took her thumb out of her mouth and mumbled, “Are we a family?”

Your heart broke at her question. Now that she was older, she was starting to question everything, especially the things that were important to her. This one would have been spurred on by that stupid car salesman’s greeting, and you felt terrible.

“Sure we are,” you answered truthfully. “Of course we are.”

“Even though I don’t see Daddy much?”

“That’s right,” you told her, and against your better judgement you added, “But you might get to see Daddy a lot more often.”

Her eyes widened. “Really?”

“Really.”

At that, she got the biggest, brightest smile on her face – and in that moment, when Winnie took your hand again, you swore that you would absolutely ruin him if he broke his promise.

As the two of you rounded the corner on your way back, you caught him staring at you from across the room, looking absolutely floored.

Oh.

He must have overheard. You’d forgotten about his enhanced hearing.

That was when Winnie spotted the kids’ corner, and she immediately took off for it. That was fine; free entertainment was free entertainment, especially when you were doing something so mind-numbing as buying a car.

“Everything okay?” he asked when you joined him again, clearly trying to play it off like he hadn’t. Thankfully the salesman was gone, likely pulling one of the SUVs around for a test drive.

“It’s not nice to eavesdrop, you know,” you commented dryly.

His wince confirmed your suspicions.

“I’m trusting you, Bucky.” At that, you shot him a pointed look, one meant to intimidate but it probably didn’t. This was Bucky, after all. The Winter Soldier. You couldn’t do a single thing against him, not really. “Promise me you’re not going to hurt her again.”

You didn’t care about yourself, so long as he didn’t hurt Winnie.

Even still, his adam’s apple bobbed when he held your gaze, and you found yourself thinking that you might not have done such a bad job after all.

“I won’t,” he told you. “I promise.”

That was when a horn sounded from outside, and you looked out the window to see the salesman waving at the two of you from the driver’s seat of what was probably the most expensive SUV on the lot. The sight of it alone made you break out into a nervous sweat, but you were doing this for your daughter, so you put on a brave façade just like always.

“I’ll keep an eye on her if you want to go for a spin,” Bucky offered – hesitant, almost, like he wasn’t sure you’d agree. You’d made your stance clear, both about your daughter and about the ridiculous price tag.

Then again, you couldn’t put a price on her safety.

“Thanks,” you said with a small smile. Despite your nervousness, it was genuine.

The one Bucky gave you in return was genuine, too.

Part Seven

[cas-backwards-tie]

Early Mornings

Pale x Reader

Summary: After spending the night at your apartment, Pale wakes up to find you making breakfast. You’re interested to see if Pale’s going to tag along for the day.

Words: 747

Warnings: drug references.

A/N: This is for @formerly-anonhamster . Happy Birthday, Queen! You’re amazing and I think you give the adam fanclub so much, so I wanted to return the gesture and give you something for your birthday! I don’t remember if I’ve written for Pale before, so I really hope that this is to your liking.

When Pale wakes up, it’s to his stomach rumbling. The smell of bacon wafts into the bedroom and light shines in through the window, practically blinding him. A loud closed-mouth groan rumbling in the back of his throat emanates from him as he stretches his body, muscles aching as he lets himself loosen up.  Tossing on the first thing he sees: one of your t-shirts. Pale tugs it over his body, unminding the amusing way it ends at his belly button, fabric snug on his body needing to stretch to fit.

“How adorable,” you comment as you watch Pale emerge from the room clad in one of your t-shirts and one of his boxers. “You know I’ve had that since middle school?” The white crop top with the colorful ‘Hello Kitty’ logo on it juxtaposes Pale in an amusing light. He simply hums in response, shrugging as he makes his way over to you and wraps his arms around your waist. “Good morning.”

“Morning,” his voice sounds deeper, still edging on the side of sleepiness. “You makin’ yourself some breakfast?” The gentle feeling of his hands gently rubbing up and down your sides is distracting from the cooking meat in front of you.

“Not just that, but some eggs too. I was making you some if you want to stay? I was gonna head to the park afterward. Then come back and shower before my shift. You said you’re not working today, right?”

“Well, if you’re makin’ me some then hell, I’ve gotta stay! Not gonna let that go to waste,” A grumble comes from him as he rubs his eyes and runs a hand through his hair with a yawn. “Got any tea?” He begins to open your cabinets and search through them.

“Tea? I thought you weren’t a fan. It’s in here.” Opening the cabinet to your upper left, he walks around you to grab the box out and drop it a few feet onto the counter.

“Mm... it’s fine every once in a while. Probably coffee you’re thinkin’ of, Doll. Don’t wanna mix that shit with the other stuff.” He knows how you feel about his habits, and while he sniffles and goes to open the box, you turn on the other burner for the kettle.

Picking up the pan to slide the bacon off with your spatula onto the plates. Next are the eggs; two cracks and they’re sizzling in the pan. “I’ll take some tea too, then. Coffee’s fine, but you’re right. I do remember you saying that now that you mention it. How do you want your eggs today?”

It’s odd the way he puts the teabag straight into the mugs he grabs out, but you don’t dwell on it. Teabags are cheap enough, you don’t need to worry about that. Pale’s mind spaces out for a moment, forgetting to acknowledge your words. Routine tends to lead him to space out, a fairly common occurrence leading to repeats of words. “Hmm?” His eyes shift over to you as you prod him slightly. “Oh- um... scrambled? Nothin’ fancy.”

“Can’t go wrong with that,” you remark, smiling up at him. Even if both of you have disagreements from time to time, the acknowledgment that you think you’re starting to fall for the man in front of you is the reason that you’re more forgiving. Sure, you both lead fairly different lifestyles, but that’s what makes it all the more intriguing and unique.

Soon enough you’re both seated at the table with your food in front of you. The sounds of traffic bleed through the windows into background noise, your kitchen clock ticking as the morning goes on. Silence takes over as the both of you eat, Pale surprisingly quiet unlike usual. For some reason, you don’t question it, but instead, welcome it. 

When he calls your name, you look up at him and notice the lazy smile on his lips. “The park sounds fun today. Maybe we’ll get some peanuts and feed the squirrels, huh?” A name graces your own lips at the thought, Pale’s spontaneity one of the best qualities you see in him. 

“That sounds like a wonderful idea. I can run, and you can roller-skate if that’s what you want to do today.” That makes him laugh, shaking his head it sounds stupid enough, but it’s an oddly appealing idea since he isn’t the one to go for an afternoon or morning run.

“We’ll see about that.”

[ikemensweetheart]

Fireflies Chapter One

A Luka x Reader Story

----------

You grew up next door to the Clemance brothers.

You would consider Jonah your best friend and there was something more between you and Luka.

Some time after Luka leaves Red Territory,  you find yourself trapped in an arranged marriage.

Desperate to escape, you follow his example.

There, fate brings you back together.

But how will this love story play out?

*Author's notes: This took long than I expected to write.

The air was warm and full of music. Lanterns lit up the night as couples danced and laughed together in an open field as crickets joined in the chorus.

A young man sighed, his dark hair gleaming in the light as he watched the dancers from a safe distance away. "Why am I even here?" He asked the violet eyed man sitting next to him at the picnic table.

"Because it's our duty to protect these people, Luka." his companion replied. "We can't do that if we don't form bonds with them and what better way to do that than a party."

Luka blew his bangs out of his face.

Sirius gave him an amused smile. Luka really wasn't one for parties and it showed.

"Hey," he said after a moment. "Let's go get something to drink."

Luka looked up at him skeptically before speaking. "I guess."

Together, the two Black Army officers stood up and walked over to the refreshment table at the edge of the field. 

"Hey, Luka! Sirius!" Fenrir waved to them from a cluster of people near the table. "Finally decided to join the party, I see."

"You look like you're having fun." Sirius commented.

"You betcha." Fenrir replied grinning. 

Just then, Seth came out from among the dancers. "Phew, I'm parched." He declared, walking over to the refreshment table. "Oh, Luka. Are you here to dance?"

"No." Luka said. "I'm just here for a drink." He added, reaching for a cup and then pouring himself some lemonade.

"What?!" Seth exclaimed. "And miss out on spending time with all these lovely ladies?"

"He's right, you gotta live a little, Luka." Fenrir added.

Luka shook his head. "No thanks." He the took a drink from his cup

Seth and Fenrir give each other a conspiracitory look.

They nod and both move to stand behind Luka. "Look, see that group of girls right there? Why don't you go over and ask one of them to dance?" Seth whispered into Luka's ear.

"What? No!" Luka yells as the two of them start pushing him towards the aforementioned group of girls several. feet away from the refreshment table, chatting with one another as they waited for someone to ask them to dance.

Right into a you as you were stepping away from the table.

You yelp as the two of you collide and you go tumbling to the ground.

"Oh no. Are-are you alright?" Luka asks, kneeling down to offer you a hand up.

"Yeah, I'm okay…" Luka freezes as your familiar eyes look up to meet his own golden amber ones.

Your face looks exactly as he remembers, long hair tumbling softly around your shoulders.

You stare at him with the same disbelief he's feeling.

"Luka?" You murmur.

"MC?" He whispers back.

It was you. MC Saint-James. Your family was one of the wealthiest families that didn't hold a rank in the Red Army. Your family's estate had been right next to his. The two of you were the same age, so you had often played together as children.

He hadn't seen you in years, not since he had left for boarding school. You were much more filled out than when he had told you goodbye. You weren't a lanky teenager anymore and you were even prettier than he remembered...

He stared at you, his brain going a thousand miles a minute.

What was he supposed to do? What was he supposed to say? He never dreamed in a million years he would see you again.

The mere sight of you brought old feelings back up to the surface.

"Friend of yours, Luka?" Fenrir asks, stepping up beside him. Interrupting Luka's thoughts.

"Well, um-" Luka's cheeks started to turn red. How was he going to explain this?

"How come you never told us you knew such a pretty lady?!" Seth demands, indignantly. 

Luka's face grew even redder. Meanwhile, you giggled "Well, thank you. I'm MC."

"Seth Hyde, at your service and this is Fenrir."

"Hey." Fenrir says, giving you a dashing smile.

"Alright, that's enough." Sirius cut in before the two of them could get any further. He then turned to you. "Sorry about them. They tend to get a little over zealous. You're not hurt, are you?"

"No, I'm fine. Thank you." You reply, taking the hand he was now offering. "Good." Sirius gives you a small smile as he helps you up. Luka quickly gets to his feet as well. 

Sirius then turns to face Seth and Fenrir, his face becoming serious. "You two with me." 

"What? But Sirius!"

"Things are getting good!" 

"No buts. Come on." Sirius takes the other two by the arms, leaving you and Luka alone at the table.

The two of you stand there awkwardly. Luka nervously shuffles his feet before asking. "What are you doing here? In Black Territory, I mean."

"I live here now."

Luka blinked owlishly. "Oh." His gaze returned to his feet.

There is another pause. The music fades away as another song ends.

"Congratulations." You say suddenly. Luka looks up at you confused. "Hm?"

"I heard you were promoted to Jack of Spades. That's not an easy feat, or so I've been told."

"Ah... Thanks."

You lapse once more into awkward silence.

Luka was about to try to excuse himself when the band started up a lively new song.

Your eyes light up and you look at him. "Do you want to dance?" You ask. Luka's eyes go wide.  "Uuh..."

You break out grinning as you take his hand and lead the way out onto the dance floor. "Come on, Luka!"

'Come on, Luka.' You used to always say that before leading him into some kind of adventure.

You fall into the rhythm of the reel with ease, though it takes Luka a moment to follow the tune was a lot faster tban he was used to, but soon the two of you are spinning, twirling and weaving around the other dancers like it was the most natural thing in the world.

It felt good. It felt good to see your smile again.

When the song ends the two of you collapse on the edge of the field laughing and giggling.

"That was fun." You declare.

"I thought…" Luka said as he struggled to catch his breath. "You hated dancing."

"I hated those stuffy, dull, never-ending parties and the waltzes that went with them." You reply, laying down in the grass. "But not these. These parties are so full of life. It's wonderful"

Luka gave a small chuckle. She hasn't changed. He thought to himself.

Once the two of you caught your breath, you sat back up to see the dancer floor was starting to empty. "I guess it's time to start heading home." You murmured, sounding disappointed.

"Do… Do you want me to walk with you?" Luka asked quietly.

You look over at him, your eyes widening a fraction before you smile at him. "Sure."

"Alright, then." Luka gets to his feet and offers you his hand. You take it and he pulls you up to your feet.

"Which way are we going?" He asks.

"This way." You take the lead, walking away from the lantern light and into the night.

The moon guided your way as the two of you walked down a dirt road. It was quiet other than the sound of the crickets singing among the grass.

Luka had so many questions that he wanted to ask you, but where to start?

"How long have you been in Black Territory?" He finally asks. "About six months now."

That long? "How's your mother?"

Your smile immediately vanished. "She's passed away." Your words barely more than a whisper.

Luka stops dead in his tracks. "Oh…" he breaths. "I'm so sorry." He wished he had something better to say. Your mother had been so kind to him over the years, it hurt to think that she was gone.

You stop too, turning to look at him. "It's okay, I'm just glad she didn't have to witness the fallout between Father and me."

"What do you mean?" He asked as the two of you resumed walking. "Do you remember Andre Montgomery?" You ask in return.

"The scumbag?" The mention of the name had Luka's stomach twisting in disgust.

"Father was pushing for me to marry him." 

Luka found himself skidding to a halt once more. He stared at you in disbelief, mouth agape.

Once again, You stop and turn. There was a sadness to your face, your head drooping slightly. "Pretty much my reaction too. Father wasn't taking no for an answer though. There was no talking any reason into him." You lift your head up and give him a reluctant smile. "At least some good came out of it. I can see you again."

Luka doesn't say anything when you start walking again. 

The two of you go a little ways before he asks: "Have you been settling in alright?" His move into Black Territory had been buffered by boarding school. You coming from the lifestyle you used to live straight away couldn't have been easy for you.

"It's been a challenge, but my new neighbors have been a godsend." He couldn't help but smile. He was glad that you managed to find yourself some good people to help you.

"Have you found a job?" He knew several businesses that would hire you if you didn't.

"Yeah. It's at an adorable little booklender in Central, right across from the park. It's called Callahan's Books."

Luka knew exactly where she was talking about. It was on Seth's patrol route. No wonder he hadn't crossed paths with you until now.

Suddenly, you gasp, pulling him out of his thoughts. "Luka, look."

"What?" He asks when you grab his hand and drag him to the side of the road. "Fireflies."

Sure enough, the meadow along the side of the road was filled with hundreds for fireflies dancing in the night air.

"Remember when we used to sneak out to go watch them?" You ask. "I remember you used to be adamant that they were baby stars." He says.

You stick your lip out in a pout, a light blush dusting your cheeks. "I was six, okay? Give me a break." 

You both look at each other then burst out giggling. "There was always a scolding waiting for us when we got home, but it was worth it."

"Yeah." Luka smiles and nods. "It's getting late." He then says. "Yeah." You reply. "My home isn't much farther ahead."

You sigh, leaving the fireflies to their dance as you made the last stretch of the walk home.

All too soon, you reach a group of cottages clustered together with their neat little fenced in gardens.

You walk up to a cottage that looks slightly shabbier than the rest. "Well," you say. "This is it, home sweet home."

Luka studies it quietly. The siding needed a fresh coat of paint. The fence was in desperate need of mending and weeds were rampant in the garden. Other than that, it looks sturdy. "I mean, it still needs a lot of work, but it's not as bad as when I first moved in." You explain at the fence gate. "I'd invite you in for tea, but it's already so late." You add. Luka smiles at you. "Yeah." He murmurs. "Rain check then?"

He nods and you smile back at him. "Alright. I'll hold you to it. Goodnight, Luka."

"Goodnight, MC." Luka responds as you step into the garden. 

He waits until you've entered the cottage before turning away and making his way back to his own home.

To be continued....

-------

Chapter 2

I hope you all enjoyed! If you like it, please reblog!

Stay safe everyone💕

[noctuascion]

Hi! I have a Cryptage prompt, if you're still taking them, because my writing brain appears to be taking the day (week? month? year??) off. Basically crypto feeling insecure about how many adoring fans Mirage has, and not being able to be comfortable with other people telling Mirage that they're "in love" with him. :)

Oh, hello there!! I'm always taking prompts!! And, yeah, I feel that. Lol. I'll gladly take your prompt, though!! Thank you!!!

--

Park didn't belong in the spotlight for a multitude of reasons: he was terse, quiet, preferred his privacy, and was just uncomfortable with it in general. Crypto wasn't meant for the limelight in general—he was to be a mysterious character with little care for interviews and what his fans said about him.

Elliott, however, thrived on the attention, Mirage a prime example of someone made to live with all eyes on him. He was spectacular in the ring and able to charm his adoring public, all bright smiles and dazzling moves. His fans were eager to show their love for Elliott, Park noticed, one afternoon the two were spending together.

Elliott was reading some fan mail whilst Park was busying himself drawing on the trickster's arm, sleeve rolled up and intricate patterns marked along the tanned canvas, flowers and cats occasionally tossed into the mix. Elliott never minded. They always reminded him of really cool tattoos, and he didn't want to get any anytime soon, so he was fine with Park just drawing all over him (even if it was a pain to clean off later).

However, the hacker's curious gaze couldn't help but shift towards the letter currently in hand. It was from some female fan that had been watching Elliott ever since his first year of competing. There were a lot of sweet comments, about how he helped her move on from toxicity in her life, and that his smile was enough to make her a happier woman. He could see Elliott smiling as well; improving someone's life must make him joyful.

But Park didn't miss the confession near the very bottom, the typical "I'm in love with you." Elliott apparently received the phrase a lot—and not just counting the night they got together. For someone like Elliott, love never came easy, despite his desperate attempts to find someone to use all of that love in his heart on, to find someone to dedicate his existence to. Some people could be heartless, treating him like a ticket into a better life, and others abused him emotionally to get what they wanted. He had to grow thicker skin, learn from his mistakes, before he truly sought out someone that made his world worthwhile. Park commended his confidence and bravery. He's never been in relationships before, but leaving toxic ones must take a lot out of one mentally and emotionally.

Still, rereading that letter, the constant praises and adoration, the love for Mirage and everything he does, caused a feeling far too familiar to the man to wash over his mind, normally hectic thoughts beginning to run wild. Park wasn't one for letting insecurities bother him, but it seemed they, like a lot of things, made him feel uneasy, unhappy.

Elliott folded the letter with one hand, setting it aside, before pulling another one from his pile, this time temporarily taking the hacker's canvas away to rip the envelope open, arm returning to its prior stationary position. Again, though Park had tried to focus on drawing, his eyes drifted over the letter, though he wish he hadn't, as this fan appeared to be less shameful with their desires. He's sure, if Elliott peeked at him, he'd be flushed pink.

This time, though, the confession was within the first three paragraphs, third sentence of the second one. "I love you so much. I want to live my life with you," he read, frowning. People clamoring over themselves to be with Elliott—it was almost pitiful, but, then again, he didn't expect much from fans. Even his own can be a bit rowdy, though they appear much more mellow compared to his partner's.

The trickster didn't smile this time, just folding and tossing the letter aside without much change in expression. Another letter was opened up, arm returning to Park (even though he's become far too distracted to even think about drawing right now), and began reading the next one.

Once again, a love confession could be seen in the final paragraph, though it was far more poetic than simply "I'm in love with you." She had taken time writing this, it seemed, pouring her heart out on paper to this complete stranger she only knows via the television.

"Every waking day without seeing you is a strike to my heart. Your smile is radiance, and your very being is joy. My desire for you goes beyond physical, a wish to see within your heart, to let our souls intertwine in a dance for only us to see. I want everything you are, everything you'll ever be."

Elliott's fans really were adoring, if that was anything to go by. Park wasn't jealous by any means—frankly, were he to receive such letters, he can only see himself tearing them up and throwing them out. Elliott would scold him, saying someone put a lot of work into those, and Park would retort with: "They should spend time sending those types of letters to someone whose name they actually know."

That same feeling earlier returned, insecurity gnawing at his heart. Dour expression crossing his visage, his hand released Elliott's, marker pulled away, immediately alerting the other. Curious, the trickster reached out to poke the other's cheek, downcast eyes now moving to meet his own.

"Hey sweetheart, something on your mind?" he asked, hand dropping to place itself on the other's shoulder, an attempt at reassurance.

"… No."

Elliott raised a brow. "So you just look super depressed just 'cause?"

"… Yes."

A soft snort escaped Elliott, tossing the letter aside and moving to wrap an arm around the smaller's shoulders. "You and I know that's bullshit. Come clean and I won't get the information through other means."

The dangerous wiggling of his fingers was enough to tell Park just how he'd "gather information."

"Fine. But promise not to be mad at me…?"

"I don't think I could ever be mad at you, sugar pie. Probably a biological thing."

Park released a breath, head moving to lean on Elliott's shoulder. "I was… reading the letters your fans sent you…"

"… Is… Is that it? 'Cause, if it is, I think we need to have a talk about what makes you feel guilty and why it's dumb."

Park scoffed, though it was more amused than annoyed. "No, that's not it. But… you have a lot of… caring fans."

"Emphasis on 'caring' makes me think you might be meaning a different word entirely."

"They're affectionate… and kind… and they say nice things about you…"

"… Are you… jealous—? Have I not been saying enough nice things about you?"

"No, no, you say enough—probably too much, actually. But, no, I just… I don't think I like your fans saying how much they love you. It makes me think, one day, they'll make you feel more loved than I do…"

Elliott couldn't wipe the shock from his expression, immediately unwrapping his arm from Park's shoulders to place his hands on them instead, turning him so he was now face-to-face. The hacker's gaze had fallen once again, dourly staring at the copious amounts of love letters Elliott received on a daily basis.

In the end, that's all they were to him—just letters. They never amounted to the smile he got to see everyday, the gentle kisses and careful touches, the sweet feeling of his beloved's hands in his own, and nothing could ever amount to the three little words Park so seldom uttered, the way his cheeks would tinge pink and the sheepish tone that replaced his confident, cool one.

He couldn't imagine trading any of that for empty words spoken by fans.

"Hey, angel? Who do you know me as?" he asked.

"… I suppose I know you as Elliott."

"And who do my fans know me as?"

"I… I guess they only know you as Mirage."

"They get to see that persona of me, the fake me."

Elliott's hands began sliding down Park's arms, tracing gently over the smooth skin, feeling the change between real and synthetic skin, before gently grasping his hands in his own.

"They see the smile I wear when I don't want people knowing what I'm feeling. They see me acting cool and confident, and they don't ever see Elliott, the guy who just wants to own a bunch of dogs and has as many insecurities as he does kills in the arena."

Park's hands were raised now, Elliott craning his neck just a bit to press kisses to the knuckles, smiling at the other, who was beginning to look less and less dour and more surprised by the trickster's words.

"You get to see me, Elliott Witt, the guy who drools on your hoodies and accidentally chews on your hair because he thinks it's cotton candy."

That broght forth a laugh from the hacker, trying to pull a hand away from Elliott's to cover it, but the trickster was adamant in seeing his smile, hearing his laugh.

"And I get to see you in all your own dorky glory."

"I'm not dorky. You just bring out the weird in people," Park responded through his fit of giggles, any trace of sadness or insecurity having faded from his visage, only replaced by mirth and joy.

"That, I do." Elliott smiled and leaned in to press a kiss to Park's forehead. "I'd never leave you, pancake. You're the only person on the Frontier who would still love me even after hearing about all my baggage. I'm a mess, but I've never heard you complain."

"Maybe when you're drooling on me."

Elliott smiled, chuckling. "Yeah, you do complain about that a lot."

"But, even if you drool on me, I still… love you."

"And I love you too, darling."

[angstmongertina]

Also! "he looks like he will keep you safe," Verda talking to Elodie? :D

Tea, you know how to pick the ones that destroy me, no? THANK YOU.

In which I will KEEP making references to “tu omnia” because of Who I Am As A Person.

AO3 Link

She is not entirely surprised to find Verda still in the office when she makes her way towards the exit; despite the family he has, his impeccable work ethics means it is often a toss-up on whether he or she will leave the office later, particularly in recent months, with the uptick in the apparently inexplicable, supernatural occurrences.

She is, however, taken aback to find that he is not alone, lounging beside a taller figure in the cool twilight of another spring night. A smile curves her mouth on instinct as she steps forward, a greeting on her lips, but her words die in her throat when the individual pulls into focus and it isn’t Verda’s broad-shouldered husband at all. Except…

Except that can’t be right, because the man standing beside him appears to be Commanding Agent Adam du Mortain.

She shakes her head. Either her eyes are deceiving her or she is beginning to hallucinate, neither of which being wholly unlikely scenarios considering the amount of time she has spent staring at paperwork and generally shut up in her office in the past days. Or, she supposes, something has happened that requires her immediate attention, right after things have finally returned to the closest thing to normal that is possible for Wayhaven at this point.

None of the options are particularly comforting and she hesitates, checking her step and contemplating the wisdom of putting off the confrontation until much, much later.

Any plans she might have to that effect are ruined before she can even fully make up her mind, however; no doubt sensing her approach, Adam turns to face her and, even across the distance, she can feel the full force of that cool green gaze on her, drawing her toward them without conscious thought.

A hand on her shoulder shakes her out of her reverie and she blinks to find Verda standing beside her, his face neutral. Or, at least, it would be if not for the sparkle of amusement in his dark eyes.

“Are you with me now?”

“Sorry.” She looks away, though not daring to glance back outside, where she can still feel the heavy gaze on her. “I was just…”

“Distracted.” There is definitely a faint smirk playing in the corners of his mouth now and she presses her lips together in a no doubt futile attempt to stay impassive. “Not that I can blame you. The agent is very… intense.”

“That’s one word for it.” She sighs, casting her eyes about before settling on the clock. “Still, it’s getting late. What are you doing here?”

It is hardly a subtle attempt to change the subject and she knows it just as well as he does; Verda chuckles, the quiet sound echoing through the station, and she pointedly doesn’t notice the way the figure outside turns ever so slightly in their direction.

“I could ask you the same thing.”

She wrinkles her nose. “I was finishing up paperwork. I swear, they’re multiplying. As soon as I finish something, two more appear.”

“I’m sure it has nothing to do with your absences, of course,” he replies easily, though the evenness of his tone is belied by the mischief in his gaze. “Then again, if I were the one picking between red tape and spending time with the rest of that team of yours… Well, I can’t say I don’t understand why you fell behind.”

When she makes a face, he laughs again, and she can’t resist the urge to roll her eyes. “So why are you here? I can’t imagine Eric or the kids are too happy about you staying in so late.”

He sighs, running a hand through his hair. “You’re not wrong there. But between my conference and trying to find a cure for whatever all of those people were inflicted with, I would be lying if I said I hadn’t fallen behind as well.”

“Verda…” She bites her lip to stave off the words she’s not allowed to say, her heart pounding in her chest so loudly that it’s a small miracle he doesn’t hear it. Adam, she notices from the corner of her eye, does seem to, if his sudden stiffening is any indication.

The smile the man before her offers is small, but genuine. “No harm done. What’s important is that everyone is safe. But it does mean I have to make up some of the actual work I should have been doing, just like you. I was just about to head out when Agent du Mortain showed up.” Verda leans his weight onto his heels, his hands shoved into his pockets in a show of casualness. “Not a very talkative man, is he?”

In spite her best efforts to remain impassive, she nearly chokes. Instead, she takes a deep, steadying breath and prays that that her voice betrays none of her surprise. “Ad— Agent du Mortain, talkative? Not so much, no.”

Judging from the mirth that flashes across his face, she is not as convincing as she might have hoped, but thankfully, he chooses not to comment, instead giving her a small, meaningful glance. “He also isn’t the type to put words to what he feels, is he? So perhaps that might be expected.”

She does not need to look outside to see the way the man in question tenses at her friend’s words, every muscle coiled and tight, and her smile in response is a little stiff, a non-answer if there ever was one, but one that has Verda’s eyes softening.

“Just as long as you’re aware.”

She draws a breath, opening her mouth to reply, but instead memories replace the man before her. Memories of tired green eyes, a gentle touch, and a quiet murmur…

Tu… omnia…

“Elodie?”

She blinks as concerned eyes, brown and not green, swim back into focus and a warm hand presses onto her shoulder. “You still with me?”

“Yeah.” Shaking her head in a sharp motion, she clears her throat and meets his gaze. “Yeah, sorry. I… got distracted.” She forces her lips into a smile. “Again.”

Verda offers her a smile with a hint of mischief woven through the worry. “As long as you’re all right. I don’t want to have to go explaining that you collapsed from just a conversation. I didn’t think that would be enough to knock you off your feet there. Though…” He pauses, shooting her a teasing look. “I suppose that answered my question more than anything else. Wouldn’t you say?”

With an effort, she grins, forcing a laugh through the suddenly thick tension. “Didn’t take you for a matchmaker.”

He shrugs, his expression considerably lighter. “When it comes to you, at least. You’ve more than earned it.”

At the sincerity in his voice, she can’t help the smile that creeps across her face. “Thanks, Verda.”

His hand squeezes once, a gentle and affectionate gesture, and he nods at her before turning back towards the parking lot and the approaching vehicle with a smile. “Well, I think that’s my ride. You’ll be all right getting home from here.”

It’s a statement, not a question, and she raises a questioning eyebrow only to receive a chuckle and a simple answer: “He looks like he will keep you safe.”

There is no need to explain who he is.

She opens her mouth to reply, but before she can, Verda gives her a cheerful grin and a clap on the shoulder. “Remember what I said. Have a good evening, Agent du Mortain.”

In spite of the warning, she starts when Adam suddenly appears beside her, arms crossed over his chest,, a dark shadow in his usual grey coat. He tilts his head at her, something almost… gentle in his expression, except it must be a figment of her overactive imagination, it must be, because…

His eyes meet hers, cool and unfathomable in the dim light from the street lamps, and she almost flinches away at the intensity in his gaze. Drawing a ragged breath into her suddenly tight chest, she forces a smile.

“On patrol again?”

A broad shoulder rises in a shrug. “It is late.”

“That it is. A consequence of my spending so much time at the Warehouse, I suppose.” She rolls her own shoulders with a sigh. “At least it’s been quiet since the carnival.”

She is not expecting a response and she knows this. Still, the silence hangs, thick and cloying between them, until she glances up to find him frowning towards the empty parking lot.

“I walked this morning. Didn’t think I’d have to stay so late, but I guess that’s my fault.”

His response is more of a grunt than anything else, and it is her turn to frown. “What is it?”

“You were planning on walking back alone?”

His voice is low, a hint of what she would call worry for anyone else lurking in the smooth tone, and an eyebrow raises in spite of her best efforts to remain impassive. “Well… If there was nobody else here, then yes. I have been doing it for months without any problems.” She glances up to find his lips pressed into a thin line, though he says nothing further, and offers him a small smile. “I can’t say I mind the company though.”

His gaze seems to dart towards her, something flickering through too quickly for her to recognize, and she finds herself looking away, the statement hanging between them as she makes her way down the familiar streets towards her building, he a silent shadow keeping pace at her side.

It is not until she is standing outside the door that he speaks, his voice so low that she almost misses it entirely. “Nor do I.”

“Hmm?”

For a heartbeat, he stares at her, something warm and hesitant in his eyes, and then he pulls away, hands settling into what she guesses is a parade rest behind his back, and she forces a smile as she steps into the building. “Good night, then. Thank you.”

“Sleep well.” As the door slams closed behind her, she wonders if she imagines his quiet voice in its wake: “And… always.”

[ladybugsfanfics]

Stangers On A Train [4/4] | Tom Hiddleston

 Pairing: Tom Hiddleston x reader

Style: part 4 of 4

WC: 2.2k

Warnings: drunk reader, awkward people, idk really, feeling like you’re being creeped on?

Summary:  “we make contact before trying to steal the last seat on the subway/bus/train and I end up in your lap and fuck you, I’m going to stay here because I’ve had a really long day and this seat was mine” - prompt source

A/N: so, this is finally here, the end to stangers on a train. Hope you all enjoy this, and yes, this is instead of a new part of Shut Up And Kiss Me, sorry. I didn’t have the time to write another part, and since this was already written, here you go. 

Previous | Series Masterlist | Masterlist

It takes so many rings before he answers that you almost believe it will go to the answerphone. But then you hear his soothing, deep voice tiredly say, “Tom Hiddleston, who am I talking to?”

You snort at that, which elcitics a laugh from him. 

“Y/N,” he says, voice fond even though the sleepiness still clings to it. “It’s two am, why are you calling?” 

“Uhh, I have a slight problem.” You press your lips together, forming a thin, nervous smile as you await his response. 

“Problem?” 

You nod. “Uhh, yeah. I’ve been out with friends and had a few drinks,” a little chuckle follows the ‘a few’ because it was probably one too many, “and I have to walk because I missed the last tube and it’s so long and my feet hurt and I’ve walked a little in only socks but it hurts so much and I don’t have much power left on my phone and also I’m a little afraid and like it’s dark and the middle of the night―”

His laugh interrupts your rambling. “Give me ten minutes, I’ll pick you up. Where are you?” he asks. 

You look around. “I don’t know.” Even if he can’t see it, you shake your head as you say so, as if acknowledging your own stupidity. “Some buildings are here, and a… I don’t know.”

Tom sighs. “Anyway you could find out?” 

“Maybe,” you reply and take your phone away from your ear. You press the speaker button, and move into google maps. By choosing somewhere to go, you get your own position and press it. The ‘share your location’ button is pretty handy right now, and you have only done this once before. You find Tom in your contacts and send it to him. “Done.”

“Got it. I’ll be right there.” 

“Don’t use long. I want to see youuu,” you say, drawing out the ‘you’ in a singsong-y voice. 

He laughs. “Don’t worry.”

You stick your tongue out and roll your eyes. “I don’t worry. I overthink. There’s a difference.” 

“If you say―” 

He cuts off. You look at your phone and notice it’s shutting down. Great, just great. That means you have to wait without talking to him. You let out a huff and sit down on the curb, which gives your feet some rest. It feels great actually, to just sit down. 

It does not feel so great when a man walks past, and though he doesn’t really look threatening, there’s something about the look he sends you that has chills creep up your spine. During the next minutes it takes for Tom to arrive, your heart pounds in your chest. The slight tipsiness you’d felt before vanishes, replaced with an anxious feeling of dread. 

Tom will be here in a second. Tom will be here in a second. Tom will be here in a second. You repeat it like a mantra in your head, but it doesn’t calm your nerves nearly as much as you would like. 

The car that pulls up to a stop on the other side of the street doesn’t sit well in your gut either. But when Tom gets out of it and his tall frame makes its way across the street and to you, relief floods your system. You stand up, shoes in one hand and smile at him. 

“You got cut off,” he says as he pulls you in for a small hug. You wrap your arms around him, breathing in the fresh scent he brings.

“My phone shut off.” You linger in the hug a few seconds longer than you should, but since he doesn’t pull away you don’t think too hard on it. Though your heart does flip a thousand times, which feels good but also breaks it all at once. 

Tom pulls away eventually, and takes your free hand in his as you walk back to his car. “Why would you believe it a good idea to take off your shoes?” he asks.

“You really think these are good for walking?” You shove the pair of high heels in his face―though not too in his face. It’s a black pair with a thick heel and straps that snakes their way up your legs. It’s not necessarily that they’re uncomfortable, but rather the fact that high heels in general gives for tired feet after awhile. 

“No, I don’t think they are.” He opens the car door for you, letting go of your hand as you sit down. The absence leaves a cold sensation in your fingers―had his touch really been that hot?

You do your best to fasten your seatbelt, but the end won’t connect with the thing it’s supposed to fasten in. Your focus is on that as you hear the car door close as Tom gets in. His laugh rings in your ear as you sigh and give up on the belt. 

“I’ll help,” he says, leaning over and dragging the belt with him. Your breath catches at his closeness. His breathing mixes with yours, the nearness of him having your gut churn and your heart twist in agony because god he is so close why not just lean over and press your lips to his and―

Click. 

The belt clicks into place and the smell of Tom’s cologne falls away from your nose as he pulls back into his own seat, pulling on his own seatbelt. He starts the car, and you do your best to regain your breathing because he was so close. 

It’s a silent ride back to your apartment. All you can think about is how close he was. How dry your throat is. How much your gut hurts as it churns and churns and churns. How you feel cold as his touch isn’t on you. How you wish to press your lips to his. How you wish to press your lips to his neck, his chest, other places. How you wish to touch him, let your hands explore his body. 

And all of it has your body heat up, sweat just a little because god it’s hot confined to this space. 

Finally, Tom pulls to a stop in the guest parking outside your apartment. You manage to take off your seatbelt, but you don’t get to open the door as Tom is already on the other side. He smiles as he lends you a hand, which you happily take. The touch burns you, but it’s better than the cold you had before, better than not touching him. 

He helps you all the way up to your apartment, letting you lean most of your weight on him as you walk. Though the few stairs you have to walk up aren’t that promising as you don’t want to put your shoes on at all. 

“I’ll carry you,” offers Tom. 

You shake your head. “No, I can’t… You can’t―” 

But Tom doesn’t take ‘no’ for an answer and crouches for you to hop onto his back. You do. His arms feel secure under your thighs, the touch creating a tickling feeling where it happens―which you try to ignore but it’s a good feeling.

Your arms wrap around his neck, though you make sure not to choke him. Seeing as he feels so secure, you lay your head down on his back. The little rumble of a laugh it elicits has you smile. 

It’s over too fast. Tom puts you down as he stops by your door. You fiddle with the keys, and hope he doesn’t decide to leave as he’s helped you. After all, he doesn’t have to stay. But everything within you wants him to. The alcohol in your blood might make you a tad bolder than you usually are, and that might just have things go the direction you want it to. 

You open the door and walk in, putting your shoes down with your other shoes. Thankfully, Tom follows you inside, closes the door and takes off his shoes. You try to suppress a smile, but it makes its way across your face despite it. 

“You want something to drink?” you ask, glancing his way. 

“That depends,” he says and leans against the doorway to the kitchen. 

“You can choose wine or water.”

Tom chuckles. “I’ll take a glass of water, thank you.” 

You pull out two glasses, find a bottle you have in the fridge and fill both glasses with water. You hand one of them to Tom and take the other one yourself, taking a sip. Even being cold from standing in the fridge, it isn’t as cold as the absence of Tom’s touch. 

Only moments ago and you already miss it. Maybe there’s something in it when you’re in love; you miss those small things because you only get them during certain moments. And now that that moment is over, you don’t know what to do. 

“How much did you really drink?” asks Tom and sets down his glass on the counter as he leans against it. 

You press your lips together. “Just a few… too many.”

He gives you an amused smile, though he doesn’t comment. Instead, he quietly leans against the counter, ocean eyes smiling as he looks at you. The way they seem to study your face has heat crawl into your cheeks and you press your lips even tighter together. 

“You wanna watch a movie?” you ask.

“It’s still the middle of the night,” he replies, though amusement colors his voice. “I better get home.”

You put down your glass on the counter and walk the few steps over to him. “Please stay,” you say and make the best puppy dog eyes you can. 

Tom shakes his head. “I can’t. I might have a day off tomorrow, but I can’t stay here the whole night.”

Everything in your stomach tells you to tiptoe, tilt your head a tiny bit and press your lips to his. A quick peck, just something to let the hunger, the need to do so, at bay. But you don’t. You look up at him, try to look as innocent as possible. 

“Okay,” he says, “I’ll stay.” He picks up the glass off water, downing it all in one big sip. Your throat goes dry seeing his long neck stretched, seeing his adam’s apple move as he swallows and noting the way his lips fold around the rim of the glass.

God, you have to get yourself checked, Y/N, this is way out of line. 

But then again, hadn’t you been on a date? Not today, but before. And he was so nice, but you can’t believe anyone who’s nice likes you that way. 

“What movie are we watching?” 

You blink up at Tom, who smiles warmly. You swallow, throat and mouth dry. “What would you like to watch?” 

“You asked for a movie, you pick,” he says and you roll your eyes. 

Nevertheless, you pick the movie. You find a romantic one on Netflix, and, both out of boldness from the alcohol and the fact that you are pretty close, you snuggle close to him as the movie plays. 

He drapes his arm around you, letting you rest your head on his chest. His heart beats loudly in your ear, faster than you would expect. Maybe he likes the movie, he probably likes the movie. 

Close to the end, the couple gets back together. The final ‘real’ kiss plays on the screen and you sigh at the sight. Louder than you thought, because Tom stirs, sits up a little and lets you fall down with your head in his lap. His fingers start to play with your hair, and a smile creeps on your lips he gently combs through. 

When the credits start rolling, you turn in his lap so that you face him. His gaze is on you, looking down with a fondness you haven’t seen before. A fondness that has your gut churn. 

All you have to do is lean up and―

You don’t react before he pulls away with a red face. He presses his lips together and his eyes go a little sad by the fact that you had no reaction. His eyes meet yours and even though you can’t see your own face, you know it’s colored in shock. 

He kissed you. His lips were on your lips. He made the move.

And you didn’t kiss back. Nor are you telling him you want to. You just lie there, staring up at him with wide eyes as his face contorts more and more into someone that wants to flee the situation. 

“I’m sorry,” he says, “I just… I thought perhaps…” 

You shake your head. “Don’t be.” Your voice sounds small in your head, barely there. “Do it again,” you say breathlessly, throat too dry to function. 

He does. This time you notice, and you kiss back. Your arm snake to the back of his head, steadying him as you press your lips against his. It’s not much, it feels a little awkward, and you would want the situation to be a little different. Yet it’s better than anything you could have imagined. Fireworks spark in your gut, heat burns your palm where your hand is in his hair and his hand is on your cheek, and the tingling feeling you have felt many times around him comes back, adding to the pleasure of the kiss. 

All you can think is finally. 

Finally.

permanent tags:  @devilbat @adefectivedetective @gamillian

tom tags:  @inlovewith3 @bookgirlunicorn @mindlesschicca @justawriterinprogress @wolfsmom1 @loser-alert @satanskatze @timetravelingsociopathicwalker @wiczer

tags:  @sabine-leo @sunshinein17 @o-sacra-virgo-laudes-tibi @lys-syl @rjohnson1280

bold in the tags are people tumblr won’t let me mention