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evans23 · 2 months ago

Note

Hello! May I request Severus Snape x female reader? He might be scolding her for something and even calling her stupid. But she doesn't pay attention and tells him that she thinks everything about him is beautiful...

Thank you 💖

(Sorry for my english)

You're handsome when you're angry

Pairing : Severus Snape x Reader OC

Summary : You are the assistant of Severus Snape. The man who lived. The sarcastic, cold angry Potions Master. And you think he his handsome. Even when he is angry.

Tag(s)/Warning(s) : None.

A/N : Thank you for your request ! I'm not used to writing about Snape because, well we have plenty of stories about him and each time I have an idea for our favourite Potions Master, I have that feeling that it has already been done, therefore, I hope you'd like it !

Also read on AO3

Six months. Six months since you'd been his assistant. You'd have thought the war had mellowed him out. That surviving a giant snake had made him more... agreeable.

But no, he was still the same good old Severus Snape. And he was now the one they called the one who lived. His name had been cleared of all shame thanks to Harry Potter. Or Bloody Potter, as Snape regularly muttered.

The potions professor had hardly appreciated the fact that Harry, in order to allow him to be officially pardoned and even receive the Order of Merlin, had made his memories public. At the time, Snape was in a coma, and McGonagall had encouraged Harry to bring justice to Severus, the bravest man who had ever attended Hogwarts, according to her own words.

Needless to say, when he woke up from a six-month coma, Severus wanted more than ever to jump off the Astronomy Tower... but he didn't have the strength to get up; the venom had made him weak, and all he managed was fall out of bed, face down, while Mrs. Pomfrey came running in, scolding him like he was still eleven.

And when Harry came to see him to thank him for protecting him all these years, Severus didn't tell him he was sorry and that he should have let him drop out of his damn ballet in his first year. No, he just told him, with cold calm, that he could put the Order of Merlin in his dark side.

Harry left the hospital wing with a big smile. Severus Snape was in better shape. And he was still himself.

And against all odds, when Minerva had offered him his old job as potions professor and Head of Slytherin... he refused. He had sacrificed enough of himself and life to finally stop thinking about himself.

He had traveled a bit, tried to find his place elsewhere, opened a small healing potions shop in Paris, tamed the demons that haunted the Vatican basements, lived a quiet life in a remote Swedish village where he barely lasted two weeks once winter came, then returned to the UK and wrote to Minerva.

The truth was, he didn't know how to be anything other than a potions professor. After all, he had spent his entire youth being one, and now he wasn't really old, but his soul was, and he was worn down. Worn down by life and the endless suffering it had inflicted on him.

Minerva had immediately given him back his job, arguing that the current potions professor could have competed with Longbottom, given how much she'd had to rethink the cauldron budget.

And two years later, you arrived. You were 33 years old. Not a young beginner, not a dunderhead fresh out of school. No, just a somewhat lost woman who'd struggled to find herself. A woman with her own past and her own wounds, and a recent career change that, you hoped, would finally open the doors to fulfilment, and especially to your dream career: Potions Master.

Snape had of course grumbled, protested, threatened to quit his job, but Minerva had been adamant. Hogwarts was part of a program for young wizards looking for their bearing, a pompous name given by the Ministry to people who had taken a little time to find their way in a world too fast-paced for them, or to those who had had to reinvent themselves after the war, and above all, Severus couldn't quit his job; he had nowhere else to go.

His house in Spinner's End had been burned to the ground, probably by Death Eaters. Not that he missed that hovel full of painful memories, but from then, Hogwarts was truly his one and only home.

When told about you, he had expected a 19-year-old girl, a recent graduate of a school with questionable training, whom he would have to keep a close eye on now that he had stabilized the cauldron budget. Not to a 33-year-old woman, disillusioned but eager to learn, capable of listening, absorbing knowledge, and above all, above all, not talking more than necessary. Or at least, not anymore. After one week you knew better.

He would never have said it to your face, but one evening when McGonagall asked him what she should write in the report she was to submit to Granger, who was heading this rehabilitation program, he replied that you were promising and that he had nothing negative to say. McGonagall, her eyes wide as saucers, wondered for a moment if he'd lost his mind, her, who had never heard him compliment anyone, but she had the wisdom to say nothing about it.

You immediately found him handsome. Intelligent. Broken. Of course, you knew his story. Everyone knew it. It had been heard all over the wizarding world. But as the days went by, you were able to see beyond the story. You saw the man. And one day, you woke up hoping he would see you for yourself. For the woman you were, not the assistant.

He was tough, but he never shouted. His anger was cold, and he always spoke in the same laconic tone. Yet, you could tell whether he was in a good mood or not by a simple raise of one of his eyebrow. And you knew that after a class with the Gryffindors, and especially with McIntyre, a somewhat dreamy young boy incapable of following instructions unless you were behind him at all times, ready to catch his hand before he threw slugs instead of leeches into a potion that was particularly toxic if the wrong ingredients were added, then he wasn't in a bad mood or angry... he was unbearable. Suffice to say, you watched over McIntyre like a lioness her cubs, because you were the one who then had to put up with Snape until bedtime.

You didn't talk much, always about work, but little by little, you were getting used to each other, and he was putting up with you. At least, that's what you thought until today.

Today had been hell. You'd woken up late, and the glare Severus had given you... you were certain that if you'd still been a student, he would have given you detention until the end of the year... except it wasn't you he gave detention, it was McIntyre for setting his eyebrows on fire. His own, thank goodness, not Snape's. If that had been the case, you're certain McIntyre would have nothing left but his eyes to cry with on the train back to King's Cross forever.

However, you were the one who had to deal with detentions, which meant you'd never have another afternoon free until the end of the year.

Then you had to clean up the mess left by a fourth-year student who, Merlin knows how, had managed to make it impossible to magically clean the classroom. Three hours of scrubbing by hand, hands that were now red and irritated.

And after supervising the detention of two first-year idiots who had thought it clever to slip a toad into Madam Pomfrey's satchel, two idiots you should have made scrub the classroom after a second thought, you now had to spend your evening working with Snape on a highly unstable but terribly necessary position to vaccinate the thestrals who were suffering from a kind of purulent chickenpox, fortunately not contagious to humans.

The laboratory was dark, smoky, and smelled of a mixture of thyme, wood, and... Snape. Snape, his raven hair blowing over his eyes, was hunched over a cauldron inside which a purple liquid was bubbling bigger than your head. Your potion didn't have the same intense purple colour, but after a skeptical glance, Severus had said that was normal; purple could be more or less intense depending on the personality of the person brewing it. So you could easily guess that tonight, he was in as bad a mood as Filch's cat.

You didn't dare speak much. Not because he impressed you, but because you'd arrived a minute and fifteen minutes late, once again after your morning lateness, which had earned you a perfectly plucked eyebrow raise and a:

"Thirty more seconds and you'd have had to find another Potions Master to make life difficult for."

You hadn't replied; your past attempts at humour had taught you that it was a character trait very, very disliked by this man you admired almost in spite of yourself.

The problem wasn't that you weren't good at potions, it was that you operated on instinct, while Snape was rigorous. At least, that's what he said; you'd seen that he too had a way of sensing potions, of embodying them... and of being instinctive. But when you told him, you thought his gaze could have been the first to cast an Avada Kedavra spell. Or that he was trying to get into your head. When, still a little clumsy, you asked him with a crooked smile if that was what he was trying to do, he coldly replied that he already knew your head was empty and didn't want to inflict the torture of confirming it by entering it only to encounter nothingness.

You were busy stirring your potion, lost in thought, when it started to form black bubbles that made the table vibrate. It was when a greenish cloud began to rise from the cauldron that you realized: you'd made a mistake. Instead of using a specter's tear, you'd used a tarantula's tear.

A quick glance at Snape reassured you; he hadn't noticed. You tried to make amends by throwing in some catnip, but it only made things worse. A bubble burst with a dull thud, almost burning your forearm.

In an instant, Severus was leaning over the cauldron, wand in hand, muttering a formula you haven't heard before, and within seconds, the potion had returned to its original consistency.

"You brainless fool, are you completely stupid ? You could have set this classroom on fire ! The castle !"

He wasn't shouting, but his dark eyes flashed, and his voice, cold and sharp, hurt more than any scream.

"Do you want to die ?! Are you stupid or are you pretending ?! I should have told Minerva you were too incompetent to work at Hogwarts from day one."

He went on like this, accusing you of not taking anything seriously, of not being serious enough to have not yet found your way at your age, of not being reliable...

You took a step back, surprised, but you didn't lower your eyes. You were almost... peaceful.

"You can have your little smile... perhaps you'd like me to applaud you for not killing yourself like a first-year freshman ? Idiot !"

He had shouted that last word. His only outburst. Now there was only silence. Heavy. You took a deep breath, then, quietly, without irony, you said to him,

"I think you're handsome."

Visibly taken aback, Snape looked at you as if you were growing a second head.

"Even when you're angry. Even when you're tough. I know it's because you can't bear to lose control. Because you never really had it. You were only given the illusion that you were in control. You lost something. Not a Lily. Freedom. The freedom to choose. The freedom to be yourself. But I admire you. I admire you for managing to get back up and fight every time, after every challenge."

Severus sighed deeply, and for the first time, you saw him remove his mask. Before you, you had the man, the real one, not the spy, not the professor, not the bat from the dungeons.

"It's dangerous... to see monsters as men," he murmured.

"I'm less afraid of monsters than of men," you replied with an enigmatic smile.

And in an instant, he understood. Understood that behind your smiles and your slightly awkward humour, there was a story. A story that was nothing like a fairy tale. Experiences, mistakes, back roads... a painful past. Maybe not as painful as his, but pain is pain, and yours was no less valid because you hadn't gone through the same ordeals as him. He knew better than anyone that you have no right to compare one person's suffering to another's. It wasn't fair. Every individual was unique, every suffering valid.

"Even the darkest potions have a light within them if you know how to look," you added without looking at him, already busy cleaning your work surface.

Severus froze, and for the first time in a long time, he didn't know what to say. He was dying to enter your mind, but he wouldn't. He saw no point in stealing someone's memories to get to know them better. In fact, Snape had never used his gift to get to know someone, because he'd never wanted to. But suddenly, you, he wanted to know you.

"No woman has ever told me I'm handsome," he said, before mentally slapping himself.

"Because they never looked properly," you shrugged.

You raised your head, a genuine smile on your lips.

"I see you. Not your story. Not your past. Just you."

It wasn't the first time he'd been offered this kind of philosophical statement, which he found a bit silly. Even Potter had said it to him, and it was after he had seen all his memories... well, him and three-quarters of the Ministry. But coming from you, it sounded true.

"I think you're even stupider than I thought," he said without any sarcasm.

"Oh, you have no idea. If you asked me out for a Butterbeer, I might well say yes."

"Even Professor Longbottom isn't that stupid," Severus added with a slight twitch of his lips.

"So, when are we going to drink this Butterbeer?" you asked, staring into his eyes.

He didn't need to use his magic to know what you were thinking. And for the first time in a long time, he felt like a man. For the first time in a long time, he no longer hoped. He knew. Yes, he knew that life was offering him a second chance to love and be loved.

#severus snape x oc #severus snape x reader #severus snape #alan rickman #evans23

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flawssy-227 · 5 months ago

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The Beginning | a Joel x Babysitter fic

pairing: joel miller x babysitter!reader

wc: 2.6k

summary: how you start babysitting for Joel and Sarah.

warnings: no smut, still 18+ pls!, no outbreak!au, Sarah lives!au, small unspecified age gap, longing, small feelings developing, mostly written in a couple of hours and poorly edited lol, moldboard was hastily created by me to reflect ~vibes~, not physical characteristics

a/n: s/o @saradika-graphics for the dividers. still dusting off the cobwebs, but thank you to everyone who read part 1 and left feedback. I think I will keep writing for this pair–– less of a 'series' and more so vignettes of their lives. feel free to lmk what you would like to see next. and let me know what you think :)

You rolled your neck slowly, trying to release the tension that had been building up the last few hours. You had been working at a bookstore in downtown Austin all summer, trying to get acclimated to your new city before you start your grad program and to help earn a little cash as a cushion–you knew you were about to be way too busy with long readings and lengthy essays to work the inconvenient shifts here.

It should’ve been an easy gig, working at an independent bookstore. You really thought you would enjoy it when you got the call saying you’d been hired. The hours were nice and the environment was warm, earthy and classic Texan. It got slightly busy on the weekends and in the evenings, and there was a small coffee bar that attracted teens and students alike. It would be totally fine if it weren’t for your dick of a manager, Todd.

He was in the middle of lecturing you about cleaning the espresso machine and labeling the milk, just for you to remind him that it wasn’t even your job, and that Erica, his assistant manager still hadn’t trained you on the bar, insisting that despite your previous restaurant experience, that operating the espresso machine was a little out of your wheelhouse. You tried to resist the overwhelming urge to roll your eyes at his droning when you saw a little girl with gorgeous curly hair walk into the bookstore alone.

You tracked her movements as she maneuvered around the store comfortably and found the history section, tactfully looking over titles before her eyes brightened in recognition as she reached for a hardcover that was comically large for her small hands.

Todd was still yapping in your ear, asking if you understood what he was saying, prompting you to let out a halfhearted yup and a silent wish he would leave you alone. You looked at him, offering a half hearted customer service smile, one that probably got you the job in the first place before mumbling something about restocking some returns.

You made your way over to the little girl who was now sitting in the reading nook in the back of the store, golden Austin sunlight highlighting her face.

“Hey,” you offered, making her look up. You notice how she cautiously tracked your face, glancing down at your employee lanyard before she relaxed the slightest bit. “What’re you reading?”

She lifted up the cover so you could see. “Hidden Figures.” She stayed silent after that, curiously waiting to see if you would speak more.

“That’s a good book,” you responded. “Ever seen the movie?”

My dad says I gotta read the book before I watch the movie,” she replied, eyes rolling the slightest bit, making you both giggle.

“Oh,” you laugh, “your dad is one of those?”

She nods eagerly, guards lowering a bit. “Used to not be,” the girl shrugs. “I got put into the gifted program for school this year though. Think he’s pushing me.”

Gifted made sense. What kid her age was comfortable enough walking into bookstores on their own to grab non-fiction history novels and talking to strangers? You sure weren’t that way.

“Where’s your dad anyway?” you finally ask. The store was surprisingly empty for a Saturday afternoon but you weren’t too keen on leaving a girl her age to fend for herself.

The little girl was just about to open her mouth before a man who appeared to be in his 30s stood before you both. You could see his chest moving up and down, like he had run into the bookstore and was trying to get his breathing under control. He looked upset and irritated and it immediately put you on edge.

“Sarah,” he hissed, completely ignoring you and looking at the girl you were chatting with. You assumed this was her dad.

“You can’t keep doing this,” he scoffed at her. “I told you we could walk in here when I finished up my errands. Stop bein’ so damn impatient.”

Sarah was completely unperturbed by his tone, essentially disregarding it. It was honestly comical how bothered he was and how little she seemed to care. “Sorry, dad,” she offered, a brilliant smile on her face, one you were sure got her out of trouble more often than not. “Just came to grab the book.” She flipped over to the cover, just like she did with you moments earlier. “Made a friend.”

At Sarah’s gesture towards you, her dad focused his attention on you for the first time since walking into the store. You offered a shy smile and stood up from the nook before you offered him your hand and introduced yourself.

“Joel,” he said back, eyeing you in the same suspicious way Sarah had when you first greeted her.

Some genetics, you thought to yourself of the similarity, but you tried not to let his intensity get to you. He was gorgeous, broad shoulders stretching indecently across a threadbare grey t-shirt and big hands tucked coolly in a perfectly worn pair of Levi’s. His brown eyes were intense on you, making you avert your gaze as you felt heat creep across your cheeks. Dammit, he was attractive.

“I was just keeping an eye on her,” you offered, not getting a response in return. “I should, uh, get back to work,” you respond after a minute, the stare and silence from Joel just a bit much to handle. “Enjoy the book,” you say to Sarah, before walking away and trying to remember what the hell you were supposed to be doing.

“C’mon hon, VIP section right here!”

You had let your roommate, Avery, convince you to go drinking with her tonight. You’d been in Austin for a couple of months but you hadn’t gone out too much. Instead, you were focused on your annoying little bookstore gig and working through the massive reading list you were assigned before you started your first semester. Plus, outside of Avery, you didn’t really know anyone in Texas.

You looked at what she had just referred to as the ‘VIP section’ and scoffed. She wasn’t too specific when she invited you out tonight, but looking at Avery and her trendy gold jewelry, slinky outfit and YSL purse, you thought you might be going somewhere a little bit nicer than the sticky dive bar you were currently in.

You scoffed and swiped the crumbs from the cracked leather booth before you slipped in. “Some VIP,” you mumbled.

Avery quirked a smile at you. “What was that? Austin’s latest transplant isn’t a fan of what we have to offer?”

You rolled your eyes at her goading. Despite not hanging out much, you did really enjoy living with Avery. You had been randomly placed together via some roommate matching app and you were surprised at how it had worked out so far. She was clean and respectful. She was out a lot, but never really brought the party home. As far as you knew, she was Texan, born and raised, but this girl was bougie. She did barre classes in the mornings and wore designer pieces to work. You just could not understand why the hell she dragged you to this dive bar.

“No,” you scoff. “Just wondering if this is the place you’re always raving about.”

She hummed quietly, like she had a secret she couldn’t wait to spill, before a cute server came by to grab your drink orders. You finally took a look around the dive, disregarding the kitschy and chaotic decor that has probably been here since before you were born, noticing the patrons. Mostly men, a mix of what appeared to be the most attractive male models cosplaying as blue collar workers and others who looked like they were just in an episode of Yellowstone. It was kind of insane, you’d never seen this many attractive men in one place before. You got it now.

Avery is almost giddy as she watches you take in all the guests. “See anything you like?”

You both laugh. “Okay,” you sigh. “I might understand why you like this place so much.”

“Not only is everyone here so fucking hot,” she giggled. “But the drinks are sickeningly cheap.”

You and Avery were having too good of a time, laughing and tipsy enough before you made your way to the pool table, convinced you wouldn’t embarrass yourselves. A few guys had checked the two of you out, another anonymously even bought you a round of drinks, but no one actually came up to either of you to speak. It was mildly disappointing but you suppose that’s what the apps are for.

Avery was focused on lining up her next shot when someone put two quarters on the table. “I got next,” he smirked.

He fit in exactly with the other patrons of the bar. Tall, dark and handsome. He actually looked a lot like the dad you met at the bookstore the other day. Just leaner, with longer hair and–

“Here’s your beer, Tommy.”

Your breath hitched at the sight. There he was. The dad from the bookstore. Joel. He looked the same, just a little more flushed, like he had spent all day in the sun. He finally looked at you and froze before quirking a small smile in your direction.

Next to you, Avery squealed and embraced the man who had just claimed the pool table.

“Tommy!” she exclaimed, letting herself be picked up and spun around. “Missed you,” she said as she nuzzled herself into his neck. You focused your attention on the two of them, trying to convince yourself you didn’t feel the heat of Joel’s stare.

How the hell did Avery know these guys? You were looking at her quizzically, trying to remember if she ever mentioned a boyfriend to you, just as he set her down. Avery reached for you without fully releasing her hold on the man.

“Babe, this is my friend Tommy and his brother, Joel.”

You shook Tommy’s hand and then did the same to Joel. “Nice to meet you,” you said, giving each other a knowing look.

After a round of pool where you and Avery quickly lost against Tommy and Joel, the two of them offered to grab another round for everyone before they disappeared for a while, leaving you and Joel tucked into the same cracked booth where you started the night.

It wasn’t uncomfortable, being left to sit next to Joel while Avery and Tommy did whatever it was they were doing while they should’ve been grabbing your drinks. He had been funny during pool, a little different than the concerned and irritated dad you met over the weekend. You couldn’t help but notice how relaxed he looked when he smiled. Beautiful, really.

Trying not to stare too long, you broke the silence. “So,” you offered, “how long do you think they’ll be?”

Joel chuckled dryly, rubbing a hand down his face and glancing to the bar. “Well,” he took a sip of his beer, “I wouldn’t hold my breath waitin’ for those two to come back. ‘Specially since they ain’t nowhere near the bar.” He smiled at you, and dammit if it didn’t make your heart beat a little bit faster. “You’ve known Avery for long?”

You shook your head, taking a small sip of your drink just to give yourself a distraction. “No, I just moved in with her like two months ago. Actually moved to Austin two months ago. Brand new.” You smile shyly at his appraising gaze.

“Well if there’s anyone to be a part of the welcoming committee, it’s probably Avery. Swear that girl knows everyone and everything in this town.”

You laugh at that. “Yeah, I’m kinda getting that sense.” You took another sip of your drink. You were happy you didn’t have to work the opening shift tomorrow with how strong and cheap these cocktails were. “Maybe she can help me find a different job.”

“Really?” Joel asked. “Not likin’ the bookstore?”

You shook your head no, offering him a half hearted explanation about your manager being a bit of a prick and the hours not coinciding with the school schedule you just got. “But it’ll be fine. I just have to be patient and wait for something that’s a better fit.”

Joel nodded, trying not to be obvious as he watched the way your lips pursed around the little black cocktail straws, or how you let out a happy sigh at the sweet taste of the mixer. He thought back to how Sarah kept mentioning how nice you were when they left the bookstore Saturday, asking him why he wasn’t nicer to you, why he had been so stand offish, and then promptly adding that he should’ve asked for your number, much to his chagrin. She had been really wanting him to start dating again. He had to give it to his daughter, you were really pretty, gorgeous even, and definitely sweet. Smart too, if you were going to graduate school at UT. Sarah had a better understanding of his type than he did. But he didn’t have time to date, not right now. He and Tommy finally started their own contracting business, and between liability insurance and taxes and 1099s and the customer service aspect of it all, he had been swamped and a little overwhelmed, if he was being honest. He could use some help, personally and professionally. He only came out for a drink tonight with his brother because Sarah was sleeping over at a friend's house.

He paused for a moment and thought about how he was going to need a little more assistance with Sarah at the start of the school year. He knew some of the other parents at her school had nanny’s who did the pickups and drop offs that were at incredibly inconvenient times to anyone who actually had a job. He had been reliant on his mom and some of the parents of Sarah’s friends to help him pick up the slack for far too long. He decided not to think too hard and just ask. He needed help with Sarah. You liked Sarah. Sarah liked you. That’s all this was. Definitely no other reason he was even considering this.

“You know, Sarah really enjoyed talking to you.”

“Really?” you ask, smiling at the memory of his daughter from your brief encounter. “She was really sweet. Smart too.”

“Yeah, listen, I could use some help with her starting in a few weeks.”

“Oh yeah?” you questioned. “What? You want me to babysit?”

He smiled bashfully at you. “Honestly? Yeah. She liked you, a whole lot, and I could use the help a few nights a week,” he shrugged, taking another pull of his beer.

Would you ever consider, uh, babysitting?” The worst you could do is say no, he figured.

Your face turned in surprise. You were intrigued at the idea of seeing Joel again, but this wasn’t exactly the context you had in mind.

“Babysitting might not be the right word for it. Maybe, more like a nanny,” he added. “Only if it works with your school schedule,” he said finally, trying to read your expression as you thought about his offer.

You couldn’t help but feel a bit disappointed that he didn’t ask you out for dinner or at least a coffee. Babysitting. You could use the money though, and something a little more flexible than the bookstore. And hanging out with Sarah while you did your readings for school didn’t sound too bad. Why the hell not?

You smiled up at Joel, brown eyes peering into yours. “You know, me and Sarah will probably gang up on you, join forces and take over your house.”

Joel grinned at the idea, flashes of you in his house, acting like you owned the place with Sarah smiling next to you filling his head. “I won’t mind darlin’. I won’t mind at all.”

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller au #joel tlou #tlou fic #joel miller fanfiction #fic: Joel miller x babysitter #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedrostories #joel miller x you #joel miller

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ebsmind · 5 months ago

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My Little Treasure | president!Nico Hischier x fem!reader

summary : being the presidents mistress isn’t easy. even when another woman comes out saying she’s having an affair with him.

word count : 8.5k (the longest ive ever written BE PROUD OF ME)

warning(s) : this is purely based off of shonda rhimes SCANDAL sjiwiejdj, angst, longing (kinda? idk), cheating/infidelity (nellie deserves better), reader pushes her feeling aside, timo being called nico’s personal bitch AHAHAHA, murder (mentioned in case), non accurate descriptions of politics and law stuff, like 2-3 mentions of vomit , use of Y/N (I tried not too but I just couldn't), tbh there’s not a lot of nico x reader IM SORRY part 2 will make up for it, heavy makeout session, smut kinda? idk but next part will be smutty TRUST, getting caught by timo (what the hell Timo), VIOLENCE aka just a slap in the face, one flashback spicy scene and i think that's it!

a/n : LISTEN LISTEN before i say ANYTHING i just wanted to say that i know nico isn’t american but im currently hyper fixated on him and only him and i just started watching scandal again SO I HAD TO so please if you don’t like the “accuracy” don’t read it! this is FICTIONAL but yeah here we are! this closely follows the first episode from season 1! this is a long oneeeee! i’ve also changed the names of Abby, Quinn, Harrison, Huck, AND Cyrus (you’ll see who I change him with 😏) I also go along with the case that’s happening so this is semi like a mystery but not? idk how to explain but you’ll see as you read. send me something in my inbox if you want me to elaborate on anything about the side characters! i definitely want to turn this into an au so send me something so i can write about it or talk about it! here’s the mood board! this is also my second time writing anything spicy so please bear with me, this whole fic idea really had me out of my comfort zone so it isn't my best writing but I still wanted to get this out!

The clicks of your So Kate’s are heard throughout the law firm. Everyone knows it’s you, just by the way you walk. It’s swift and carries determination, you are on a mission. You present yourself with a sense of purpose to your colleagues. Scratch that, they’re family. Despite them technically being your coworkers, you would do anything for the four of them. From saving Gwen from her violent ex-husband to Kurt, a soldier who had served in the United States CIA’s top secret, off the books, B-613 program who ended up being dumped on the streets to beg for food, you saved them and they were all you had.

You step into the standard-sized conference room, and the extensive window along the back wall displays an orange-to-blue hue. The sun is setting and making it known that the end of the day is near. You first make eye contact with Blair, the senior associate at the firm. She stops her conversation amongst everyone and before she can greet you, Kurt, who is sitting at the very right end of the table, utters, “Perla Schmitz killed herself, channel 5.”

You make no time to strut to the table and grab the TV remote, which had been sitting next to Blair. You don’t need to change the channel once you press the power button on the remote, it’s all you watch in the firm—across the 55’ inch screen, displayed in bold lettering ‘Perla Schmitz (26) found dead in her home’. You take a second to yourself. Perla had been caught cheating on her husband, who was a very conservative congressman, but that wasn’t the icing on the cake. The guy she was having an affair with? He murdered her husband, brutally. 27 stab wounds to the chest, his head almost decapitated because of how much force was used to slit his throat. If someone were to ask you, you’d say she had it coming.

You turn to the group and raise a finger in the air as you start to speak. “We knew this was coming, let’s not pretend that she wasn’t the one cheating on her husband.”

Perla came into your office late last Friday night, around 11:25. You had stayed longer than you originally wanted to, needing to finish up some paperwork that had to be done for one of the previous clients you had. What a way to bring in the new year, but you weren’t complaining.

“Exactly! I knew she didn’t have enough willpower to continue her life. She took the easy way out, man.” You take a seat at the left end side of the table, parallel to Kurt while Neil, another associate and close friend of yours finishes his veracious remark. You decide it’s best to tell Neil and everyone else to drop the topic, but before you can open your mouth, the firm doors open. The 7-foot ebony-colored wood doors reveal a man with black hair and blue eyes, maybe mid to late 20s. The first thing you notice is how his eyes tear up before he speaks, not how he’s covered in blood.

“I-…I didn’t kill her I swear! She was my best friend, we were gonna get married!”

Your irises scan over the pinned evidence on the whiteboard, it had been approximately 18 hours since the 6’2 blood blood-covered man had walked into your firm. Sully St. James comes from an extremely well-respected family. His father was a Veteran from the Vietnam War. Sully himself had done two tours in Iraq and received the Medal of Honor. Having someone as well respected as him, show up to the front door of your firm, asking for help wasn’t new but you were determined to help the man not get convicted as the killer in his girlfriend’s murder case. You needed time, but the US attorney general David Rosen was stubborn.

“Okay! So, according to Sully, he had just come home from the bar down on 9th St, called SOST, he then walked into the bathroom where the crime scene is, saw Paige’s body on the ground,” Blair points out and before she can finish her sentence Kurt cuts her off.

“Paige suffered from 2 bullets to the chest and 1 to the head. This wasn’t a freak accident, someone wanted her dead.” Kurt crosses his arms and moves up from the far end of the table. He was correct, but your gut couldn’t help but wail that Sully was not the cause.

Blair continues to explain the approximate details, “Here’s the weird part, Sully calls the police but before they can get there he flies, and he flies here.” She takes a step away from the whiteboard and makes eye contact with you. She can sense what you’re already going to say. Blair knows you, and she knows you like the back of her hand.

“My gut tells me that he didn’t do this. Something is missing. I need more, all of you need to try to find something, anything! Anything that can clear this man’s alibi. He said it himself that he loved her and that she was his best friend. I believe him.” You step up from the chair you were sitting in and start heading towards the conference room doors when your cell phone starts to ring. Grabbing it out of your left pocket, the name “Timo Meier” is displayed across the screen. You huff in response.

He needs you right now and you know if Timo were to tell you to head to the White House as soon as possible you would and it wouldn’t end in a way you would like. Yet, you still manage to press the green button, confirming the call.

“What do you want.” You’re busy and Timo knows it. This isn’t some ‘Oh hi! How are you doing? I haven’t heard from you in a while phone call. Timo didn’t have time for that, being the White House’s Chief of Staff to Nico Hischiers personal bitch, he never had time.

Timo sighs, you can already picture him, sitting at his desk, elbow resting on it, his thumb and pointer finger trying to relieve his throbbing headache. Timo did so much for the President of the United States and somehow that included calling you on a random Tuesday afternoon.

“He needs you to come in. Something happened and we need you to make it go away.” Timo lets you take a second to respond. Already sensing that the situation was substandard, it had been months since you had last spoken to Timo and maybe even half a year since you’ve seen Nico. Physically. It wasn’t that you hated him, you could never. It was the fact you left your position as the White House Communications Director for yourself. Everything you did was always for Nico and never not you and when the realization of that hit you, it was time to go. It’s time to separate yourself from some fantasy that only ever works out in the books. The feeling of two hands wrapped around your throat finally caught up to you.

“I’ve got a client sitting in my conference room Timo.”

“Look, I know, I know, but this isn’t something that needs to be out in the public. Make it go away. Please. If not for him, for me.” He’s desperate and you know it. If you were to tell him that the only reason you were about to agree was because you held him in such high regard, you’d never hear the end of it. So, you keep your reply as simple as needed.

“Okay, I’ll be there in 45 minutes. I need to let Neil know.”

You spot Timo before he spots you. He’s sat on a bench, perhaps getting some proper vitamin D. You watch the way his foot taps every other millisecond. Being cooped up in a mediocre-sized office in the White House can make someone feel insane, you’ve been there.

As you get closer, you examine the navy blue suit that he’s dressed in. It’s his favorite one, he has 3 more pairs of it because he wears it so much. His tie has gold accents on it, it’s from his wife. You had helped her pick it out for him since you had seen him a lot more than she did. His eyes are heavy, he’s needs a vacation, a long one to be exact. You’ll let Nico know if you ever see him again, maybe he can pull some strings for him even if it’s a nice (long-awaited) expensive dinner.

You walk up the concrete steps before reaching Timo, the only thing grabbing his attention is the click of your heels. Once he realizes that you have walked up to him, you open your mouth to greet him.

“What.” Timo giggles, he’s knows you mean business but he can’t deny he misses your presence around in the White House even if you were telling him off half of the time.

“Well, hello to you too.” He stands up and gestures to start walking with him. You obey and within a second you guys stride across the walkway that overlooks the White House.

“What do you need me for Timo? I don’t work for him anymore.”

“He needs a favor.” You scoff at Timo and choose not to say anything.

“You still came. You came when I called.” His words hit you like a bus. It stings. Both you and Timo know that whenever the President needs anything from you, you’ll be there in a heartbeat. You’d do anything for everyone you love. You were loyal. That’s how it always had been and why Nico wanted you there every step of the way. He knew that he could turn his back and not expect a knife to be plunged into it.

“Her name is Vanessa Wyatt. She works in AIDE. She claims to have had an affair with him. I need you to make it go away and fast.” Timo places his right arm on his abdomen, in response you hook your left one into his right and walk side by side with Timo.

“Is it true?” You try to show no reaction but green envy begins to boil in your stomach.

“No, of course not, but I need you to shut it down.”

“I need to see him.” You don’t think about your reply until after it leaves your mouth. Both you and Timo come to an abrupt stop. He takes a step back and faces you.

“No, I don’t think that’s possible.”

“You want me to shut her up? Then I need to look at him in the eyes and know he’s not lying.” Timo knows that you're serious. You always are.

“The President’s schedule is packed. He has no time to see you.” He’s straightforward, Timo doesn’t have time for negotiating but luckily for you, you’re a persuasive person. You tend to always get what you want even if it means overstepping some boundaries.

“He wants my services but here’s the thing Timo, I do not work for him anymore! So, tell him to make time to see me if not you’re just gonna have to find someone else to do it for you. You know where to find me.”

After giving Timo a faint smile, you turn to walk away. As one foot goes in front of the other, you can’t help but feel that some part of this story is true making your heart ache.

By the time you get back to your office, you get a phone call from Timo, confirming that Nico managed to get out of a meeting so that he could talk to you. With that, you grab your coat off the coat rack and start heading towards the conference room to let at least Gwen know about your abrupt departure.

“Hey Gwen, duty calls at the White House, I’ll be back in a couple of hours. Anything new?” Gwen knows you’re talking about the case and before she utters anything new she’s found, she strides to the door and closes it.

Knowing that Sully is just in the room next door, she lowers her voice, “Kurt managed to get into Paige’s email and I’ve been reading. I found one where she emailed a friend. She was supposed to meet up with a friend at the embassy party together but never showed.”

You nod your head to show that you understand but it’s not enough information to be able to explain why Paige was murdered so, you request more information.

“Who? and Why?” Keep it simple.

Gwen takes about a second before she replies, “A girl named Ariel, and I don’t know why.”

“Find out why. ‘I don’t know’ is not an answer I’m gonna take.” That sentence leaves your mouth as fast as lightning strikes the Earth’s outermost crust.

To other people, your reply would’ve been seen as impolite but to you and everyone at the firm, it was just that ‘I don’t know’ wouldn’t get you anywhere in a case. Especially when so much is at stake.

“I won’t be long Gwen. Tell Blair and she’ll go interview the friend.”

Once you arrive at the White House you are led to Timo’s office. It’s nice and spacious, with a window that overlooks a garden. Nellie’s garden. A sour taste forms in your mouth. The garden is small, not as big as Jacqueline Kennedy’s garden but Nellie insisted she needed her own. You were told moments ago that she’d be attending this “meeting” and as much as you dislike it, you can’t help but feel empathy for Nellie. She was nothing but nice to you when Nico hired you as the manager for his campaign. It sucked most that you went not even a month later you started sleeping with her husband.

The combined noises of clothes rustling and heavy breaths consume the aura of the small hotel room. It’s unbelievable how an innocent dinner between two ‘colleagues’ can turn outright sexual within two hours, but you weren’t complaining. Maybe it was the two glasses of cabernet sauvignon that your unconscious level of operation had convinced you to drink.

Nico places open-mouthed kisses from behind your ear, down to the spot on your breast that the black lace push-up bra doesn’t cover. The white ironed shirt, that had been covering your bra, had been tossed over your head about 15 minutes ago and the black midi skirt was currently being tugged down your hips. As for Nico, all to go was the baby blue dress shirt he wore, and the black tie. Which had been taken off right when the two of you entered the room. His dark navy blue pants remained on the list of clothes that needed to be discarded.

You take a second to admire Nico’s disheveled hair. The thought of pulling it with your fingers when he whispers sweet nothing’s into your core flashes across your mind. Nico cuts off that thought once his lips make contact with yours. It’s messy and filled with need. The months of longing stares, mainly from him, were finally catching up. You take notice that your black skirt is now pooled at your feet. You take a step out of them, in a haze, the action bringing you closer to Nico. He steadies you by placing his hands on your hips. His fingertips graze the matching black lace panties you paired with your bra. He smirks into the kiss at the thought of you planning it out.

Nico takes small steps, notifying you to do the same but backward, and guides you to the small light wooden desk against the wall opposite of the bed. The back of your thighs hit the desk and with a swift motion, Nico grabs you at the waist and sets you to sit on top of it. A quick gasp escapes your naturally pouty lips and with that, Nico gets on his knees.

Timo snaps you out of that thought fairly quickly, “Well hello, long time no see!”

He’s being sarcastic, but you waste no time to get to the point.

“I was told Nellie was going to be here. She knows about this?”

Timo nods, acknowledging your words, and replies, “It’s not like how it was during the election. The isolation of the White House bonded them, their marriage is as strong as ever.”

Before you can react to Timos statement, Nellie comes barging into the room.

“Y/N!”

You fake a smile, deep down you could never hate Nellie. No matter how hard you try. “Nellie, hi! How are you doing?!” Faking your enthusiastic response, you can’t help but feel guilty. It wasn’t hard to read Nellie, so you could tell she missed your presence around in the White House. Once Nellie reaches you she engulfs you in a heartwarming hug. She rubs your back and soaks in the moment, reminiscing an old friendship.

You’re the first to step away and once you create a small fragment of distance, Nellie answers your question.

“I’m doing well! It’s taking some time getting used to you not being here but I’m managing. How’s the firm?”

“We’re doing well over there. It’s been busy but I like being occupied…can never get enough of it.” You chuckle at the tiny comment you make and Nellie goes to carry the conversation but comes to a halt when the double doors to Timo’s office open once again.

You told yourself, on the drive over to the White House, that you would keep things strictly professional but Nico always managed to make that very hard. Not only that, you still deeply cared for the man and he did the same as well. But the moment you saw his face everything you had prepared yourself for had expeditiously faded away. You can’t even process the moment, that he’s here and physically in front of you until he’s shaking your hand.

The last time you saw Nico was at a charity gala in late June. Five months after you left. You only managed to stay for an hour until everything felt overwhelming. Your chest felt like it was being compressed by an unseen entity, and bile was rising in your throat. Nico had tried his best to talk to you but with Nellie by his side and her pregnancy rumors, he couldn’t. It broke his heart when he saw the tears in your eyes. You’d felt betrayed but also knew that being the President’s mistress meant that you never came first. Even if he lied to you and said that you did.

“Y/N, It’s good to see you.” He’s keeping it simple. He can’t show too much vulnerability, there are still two people in the room.

“Likewise, Mr. President.” You drop your hand first from the handshake and look closely at Nico. He shaved two days ago, you can tell by the stubble sitting on the lower half of his face. It has just grown enough to the point where if he could get on his knees in front of you, you’d feel it scratch your inner thighs.

“Shall we take a walk?” Timo kindly suggests.

The three of you decide to chat in Jacqueline Kennedy Garden. With the company of two secret service members but you don’t mind.

It may be January but the pansies are still in season. You walk up and admire the some that are purple. You notice that in the outer part of the petal, they’re royal purple, but towards the center, they’re light purple - almost a lilac color. That would be a nice color for a wedding. You’re too busy admiring the flowers that don’t notice the sound of footsteps approaching until the person has already reached you. It’s Nico. You don’t even need to look to know it’s him. He clears his throat before starting the conversation with you.

“I know you have your hands full with the Sully St. James situation so, thank you for doing this, for me.” He turns to look at you. God you’ve missed him.

Timo walks up behind you and the president, the two secret service agents aren’t too far behind. He pulls out a beige file folder and speaks.

“Her name is Vanessa Wyatt.” You take hold of the folder and open it up.

“I know.”

“Well if you let me finish- anyways, she’s 25. I’ve heard rumors that she might be talking.” Timo states and looks off into the distance. It’s nice and sunny outside, but not even for it to take the edge off the cold. You take a look at what she looks like. She must be new, or at least got hired after you resigned. She’s cute but looking at her makes you feel nauseated. You push that feeling aside, it’s best at what you do.

“But you can’t fire her. At least not without a shit show going off.” Both Timo and Nico nod. Nico has yet to say anything. You find it odd but push that thought aside. You know Nico wouldn’t do this.

“Look, she hasn’t gone to the press, so best shut it down before she opens her mouth.” Timo’s phone rings and he excuses himself to take the call. It’s just you and Nico. A part of you doesn’t want to ask him the long-awaited question but you still do it anyways.

“I have to ask, did you do it?” You look up at him for the first time after reaching the garden. All you see are his eyes, they’re identical to the color of the way he takes his coffee.

“No. I would never do that.” Nico pauses but doesn’t break the eye contact. You’re starting to feel light-headed. Your heart wants to believe him but there’s someone in your ear screaming that he isn’t telling the truth.

“You’ve known me for a long time. Most of my time has been spent with you. You know I would never, ever fall for some girl. You know there’s only one girl I truly love.” He accentuates the last sentence. Only you know he’s talking about you. It’s a secret embedded between the two of you. You feel warm, not the bad kind, but the warm and comfy kind. He knows you need reassurance, he knows you think he’s lying, and he knows that if he did do it, it would be unforgivable. It feels like time is passing by slowly, you’re lost in his pools of melted chocolate-like irises. He never once, looked away. He’s telling the truth.

“We’re due to be back now!” Looking back, you see Timo. He’s about 15 feet away, but he’s walking towards both Nico and you.

“I’ll handle it. Consider it handled.” You look away. A burning sensation hits the back of your eye sockets. You feel like crying but you won’t let the tears fall.

Once Timo reaches you he wraps his arms around you and the President’s shoulders.

“The band is back together!”

One hour. One hour is how much time you had given Gwen to find anything and everything about Vanessa Wyatt and boy did she find something.

Gwen walks beside you, to your left. The pace you’ve set is fast, it wasn’t like you had all day. You had a firm to run and a man’s destiny in your hands. Vanessa Wyatt was just a fork in the road. You had a plan and with enough convincing, she’d end up on a bus to Wisconsin in the morning.

“You’re acting as my witness. Just shut up and listen to what I say. Do not engage with her.” Both you and Gwen had been following Vanessa around Easy Potomac Park for approximately seven minutes. You took immediate notice that she was accompanied by her dog, a golden retriever. Gwen had whispered something about it being adorable, to you it was an amazing conversation starter, a way to get in, and a vulnerability point for Vanessa.

Vanessa’s quick to take a seat on a bench, overlooking the Potomac River. You waste no time to walk up to her and Gwen follows suit. “What a cute dog! Golden Retriever?”

Vanessa takes the bait like a fish dumb enough to take a worm that’s on a fish hook. You’ve already got her right where you want her and you’ve only spoken six words.

“Yeah haha! His name is Thomas Jefferson, like the President, it’s lame I know! But it suits him surprisingly.” The thought of how naive she is crosses your mind. Was she like that with Nico? You take a seat next to her before carrying on the conversation.

“Vanessa, it would be a mistake to think that there will be no consequences to you telling lies about the President.” Her face falls almost immediately. Gwen gives you a look. Almost like she was surprised herself, she was least expecting you to mention the so-called “affair” this early on in the conversation. To your dismay, Vanessa doesn’t make an effort to start running away yet. Stupid girl. Rather instead she questions you.

“I never told you my name. Who are you?” She finally turns to get a good look at you. Vanessa notices the pale, off-white pantsuit that’s on your body. It fits you to a tee.

“My name is Y/N.” You pause for a brief moment then continue your lecture to the younger girl, “And I want to make it clear that I’m not here in an official capacity. I’m here because I’m a

concerned citizen.” Vanessa looks away, tears threatening to fall on her plump, pinky cheeks. She isn’t wearing anything to keep her warm besides a thin coat.

She mutters another question. “What do you want?”

Your response leaves your mouth rapidly. “I came to warn you. A girl like you can’t win something like this. In, employment your face will be everywhere. And by everywhere I mean tabloids, newspapers, social media, local news. People are going to associate you with a sex scandal. All kinds of information about you will become available to the press in a heartbeat. For example, the 22 sexual partners you’ve had? What about that case of gonorrhea? Oh and let’s not forget your mothers two year stay at Bedford Hospital.” Everything you say comes out nonchalantly. You pause and take a look at the younger brunette, waiting for a response but she says nothing. You take it as a sign to continue.

“That’s what I thought. It’s information like that, that could ruin everything for you.” Both you and Gwen take notice of Vanessa. The tears that were threatening to fall, are now halfway down her cheeks. Gwen’s heart breaks for the girl but deep down knows it’s for the best. You, however, could care less. Situations like this, never end up good for the woman involved.

“He said he loved me. He gave me this dog.” Vanessa manages to utter while shaking her head. Her world feels like it’s falling apart and you stand at the altar watching it happen.

“You see, it’s lies like those that could hurt you when said to other people. People not as nice as me. Here let me give you some advice, hand in your resignation, pack a bag and your dog, get out of this town, maybe in Wisconsin, and start over. Never look back.”

You’ve managed to move closer to Vanessa. It’s not a lot but you’re still testing the waters. If you were to ask Gwen, she’s still surprised that Vanessa’s still sitting there. Personally, Gwen would have fled a long time ago. The younger brunette to your right, takes a deep sigh and begs, “Why are you doing this to me?” I’m a good person!” You get the urge to laugh in her face. It doesn’t matter if you’re nice or not, people love to ruin people. She should’ve known this by now. A girl this naive should not be in a town like this.

“You want to know who was also a good person?” You question her and continue, “Monica Lewinsky. And she was telling the truth. But she still got destroyed.” You say it casually and Vanessa doesn’t appreciate it, in the next millisecond, she grabs her dog’s leash and hurries away. Gwen is still standing, she’s shocked, to say the least.

Turning to Gwen, you start to state, “If you get subpoenaed in front of a grand jury, you can testify as an officer of the court that I was working on my own. I didn’t blackmail or threaten her. If you don’t get subpoenaed, then this never happened.” You walk in the other direction from Vanessa. Gwen takes a moment to follow suit and once you hear Gwen’s footsteps, you take your cell phone out of your coat pocket to dial.

“It’s handled.”

You are typing away on your keyboard, answering some emails when the doors to your office fly open. It’s Blair and she’s rushing in. You can tell her her brain is going 100 miles per hour when she cheers, “Paige is a whore! She’s a whore!” You shake your head and smile in return, expecting her to say more, and that she does.

“I had Kurt hack into her message log and she had HUNDREDS and I mean HUNDREDS of text messages with this guy named Tom Henderson. And I know what you’re going to say ‘Go interview him then’ We’ll that’s what I did while you were gone doing god knows what!” She’s starting to get off track but you don’t mind. Blair was a chatterbox at heart.

“Good news is that Tom spilled his guts the minute I went to ask questions, but he has an air-tight alibi. He was working as a bouncer at a club at the time of the murder. There has got to be like 100 witnesses.” You nod your head and before you can tell Blair anything she continues, again.

“Oh my god! How could I forget?! Henderson claims that Sully knew that he was sleeping with his girlfriend.” With that, you waste no time to get out of your chair, and before you can even take a step Neil comes strutting into the room.

“Even worse news, the gun found in the murder has Sully’s fingerprints all over it. It gives him means.” A small “fuck!” leaves your mouth and you dash towards the double doors that connect your office and another. Pushing open the door, you waste no time to start interrogating Sully.

“Did you know Paige was sleeping with Tom Henderson?!” You point your finger at him like a mom scolding her child. Sully replies stupidly, “What?”

“Did. You. Know?” Accentuating every word in the question causes Sully to get irritated.

“I hired you! You can’t come in here and talk-” Sully’s cut off by Neil almost immediately. You let him overpower the situation by walking away. Your mind is running, trying to think what the possibilities could be.

“Yes, she can! She can do whatever the hell she wants! Without her, you would be in jail right now!” Things are starting to escalate quickly between you three. Blair is just observing what’s happening. You decided to ask one more time even though you hate repeating yourself.

“Did you know Paige was sleeping with Tom?” The tone that you ask him is softer, things are starting to get real and if you don’t get to the bottom of this, Sully could be going to jail for 20 years to life.

Sully answers your question, “Yes, but I didn’t kill her!” Your mind shuts everything out once he answers your question. Neil and Blair start conducting a plan that you have no care for right now. Deciding to walk away from all the chaos, you manage to bump into the one person you least expect. Vanessa, with Gwen following behind.

“Oh, what the hell!”

“I want you to give him a message!” You stare Gwen down, scolding her with your eyes for even letting Vanessa in, in the first place.

“That is not appropriate.” You take ahold of Vanessa’s upper left bicep, Gwen the other, and quickly guide her out of the firm. She tries to go with a fight but your grip doesn’t let her escape. You open the front door to the firm, giving Vanessa access to leave but she makes it clear that you hear what she has to say. “Not appropriate? You came to me and I know he sent you! I know you can give him a message! I’m telling the truth! I am!”

“This conversation is over. Please leave.”

You’re barely coming down with your high from the previous chaos when David Rosen, the US attorney general walks into your building.

“Times up, Y/N. I have a warrant.” He’s holding up white papers, stapled together. He’s here to take Sully into custody but luckily for you, David arrived earlier than expected.

“I still have 40 minutes.” You bark at David, taking a look at your watch. Turning your back to him, you reach the conference doors.

“You can wait in the lobby by all means.” You suggest to David. Maybe he’ll listen to you once and for all.

“Fine, but in 40 minutes I want Sully St. James in custody.” He huffs out.

Meanwhile, you try to find Gwen. Once you see her in the conference room you have her call Blair, to let her know that you’ve officially been invaded and time is running out to find Sully a viable alibi.

Blair, Neil, and Kurt walk through the front doors exactly 7 minutes before David is supposed to be arrested. Blair comes in hot, Neil and Kurt trailing behind her. She’s holding a flash drive and gives you a rundown of what that flash drive material contains. You take no longer than 3 seconds to head your way to the conference room where Sully St. James is currently seated. You tread the water lightly, not wanting to anger him when approaching the situation.

“We don’t have much time, Sully,” you start with, “the police are here so I need you to listen.” Blair, Kurt, Neil, and Gwen slowly enter the room with you. Most of the time, when debriefing with a client, there’s always someone else with you. In this case, all of them.

“We were able to verify your alibi.” Sully’s reaction doesn’t surprise you. Confusion shadows over his face. Almost like he didn’t even know how or who verified his alibi.

“You were?” He looks around the room after he questions you. All eyes are on him and everyone can tell that he’s realizing that his secret is no secret anymore. You nod in response to his question.

“That’s.. that’s a good thing, right?” He’s playing dumb and you’re catching along. You open your mouth to start a lecture.

“Sully, you’re the most decorated hero since the Vietnam War, you come from a family of well-respected soldiers, you make your living giving speeches for the conservative right, and you’ve said over and over, that Paige was your best friend. Not your lover.” Your eyes never leave him during the duration of your speech, but when they do you signal Blair to turn on the TV and plug the flash drive into it. Once she does, a video starts to play. It’s from a security camera at an ATM, that so happened to be next to the bar Sully had been seen at before the murder. In the video, Sully St. James is seen standing on the sidewalk, hands in his pockets, pacing. He’s waiting for someone. Just on cue, a man in his mid to late 20s is seen approaching Sully. Once he gets his hands on Sully, he kisses him with passion. Almost like lovers who are reuniting for the first time after months of being apart. The room is silent up until the video shows the two grown men kissing. Sully’s breath starts to pick up, he’s infuriated.

“Paige knew, didn’t she?” You already knew the answer to that but still needed the clarification. You were never one to go based on assumptions. Sully doesn’t respond so you continue, “She knew you were gay, the two of you had a deal.” Sully speaks up for the first time in 3 minutes.

“You can’t show anyone that.” Disregarding what he said, you ask, “I need the name of the man that you were kissing.”

“Over my dead body! I serve my country. I honor the uniform! I am a conservative man. Everything I stand for is anti-gay. I am the deacon of my church! They’re talking about me running for Congress one day. I’m a hero. I can’t be gay.” His demeanor starts off hostile but then shuts down and he manages to whisper the last remark.

“But you are. This is who you are.” You point to the TV which had been paused at a time frame where Sully and his secret lover were engaged in a kiss. “This is your alibi. Let us help you.” You walk over to the couch that Sully is seated at and crouch next to him. You and Sully are the only two who have spoken a word so far. Everyone else is watching the scene unfold in front of their eyes.

Sully stands up straight and looks ahead of him. With one small word, he answers you.

“No.” You stand, but before you can mutter a word he turns around and heads out the conference room doors. You don’t pay attention as to whether everyone follows you but you follow Sully out. Demanding him to wait but to no avail, he doesn’t listen. Once he opens the firm’s front doors, he is met with David Rosen.

The bright ceiling lights are the cause of the forming headache across your temples. To say that everything that happened in the past 28 hours is ridiculous would be an understatement. Neil and Blair are at the police station with you. By the time Sully St. James had his mugshot taken, you got a text message from Gwen. You managed to mutter an ‘I have to go’ and frantically left. Having left instructions for Neil and Blair just in case anything happened with Sully.

Being told, by Gwen, that Vanessa Wyatt was in the hospital and she was going to see her was just the cherry on top. You wasted no time to get there as fast as you could. It was 7 pm by the time you entered the hospital door, exhaustion hitting you like a ton of bricks. Getting into bed sounds much better than having sex.

Gwen is standing outside of Vanessa’s hospital room when you get there. You greet her then immediately ask, “What happened?” You take a look at Gwen and she genuinely seems worried for the girl who’s in the hospital bed, clearly sedated.

Gwen explains, “She slashed her wrists. There’s no press lurking around but one of the nurses told me her dad’s flying in from Michigan.”

You double-check with Gwen, just to make sure that there is no possible threat. “No nurses or doctors, about anything?” Gwen shakes her head, her ponytail moving along with her head, and responds shortly.

“Just to me.”

“Good stay with her.” You turn to leave, regretting to have even come in the first place. A simple phone call would have been fine. Before you take a step Gwen takes ahold of your upper arm and blurted your name.

“Y/N! You told me to trust my gut when I first got hired, and now my gut is telling me that she is telling the truth-” You cut off Gwen to share what you think.

“She’s not.” You keep it short and sweet. Nico told you that he didn’t do it and you believe him. Your heart believes him. He said he loved you and you were the only girl he’s ever loved.

“I know the President, Gwen. He wouldn’t do this.” You’re starting to become stern since Gwen is being persistent about something that could never, ever possibly be true.

“I just find it weird that she was going on and on about how there’s this secret room off the Oval Office where they’ve met, and I’ve read about the White House. There is a little room.”

You waste no time to state the obvious. “If you read it, she read it. People are crazy Gwen. They love to get fixated on famous people and stalk them.”

“But I don’t think she’s crazy.” If you didn’t have any love for Gwen you probably would’ve smacked her for continuing to run her mouth. Since you do care for her deeply, you demand her to tell you why she thinks that. “Why?”

“Okay, she tried to take her life but she didn’t want to die. She called you right after she did it because she wanted him to find out she was hurt and come see her. She thought he would do that.” Gwen rambles everything out in one go as if she’s already rehearsed this conversation in her head.

“Gwen-”

“She was going on and on about how she thought he’d come to see her and call her some stupid little German word.” You start to doze off but your ears perk up like a dog that hears a siren from a mile away when she mentions the word German.

“What?”

Gwen’s face scrunches up and tilts her head to the side at your remark. She’s questioning you and doesn’t even need to open her mouth.

“Repeat yourself.” You try to tell yourself that you heard something completely different. How pathetic.

“Oh! He’d call her a German word, she said it means treasure or something. Why does it ma-” You cancel out the rest of Gwen’s sentence and scurry away. Your legs start working independently and lead you down the hospital corridor. Gwen calls out your name in response, but you pay no mind to it. The pit in your stomach is probably the size of a football and it doesn’t help that bile is rising in your throat and everything feels hazy. Betrayal wasn’t something new to you but coming from someone who expected the same loyalty from you was gutwrenching.

Sometimes you think it’s crazy how much authority you still have in the White House because you simply do not work there anymore. Nonetheless, it comes in handy, in instances like these. Rose, the President’s Secretary, leads you the way into the Oval Office in a matter of seconds. It didn’t take much convincing, just a quick “It’s an emergency”. Once Rose opens the first of 3 doors that connect the Oval Office to the White House, you step inside. Walking up to the set of couches that sit in the middle of the room, to set your purse down, you notice Nico isn’t at his desk. Matter of fact he isn’t anywhere in the room. With that, you question Rose about Nico’s whereabouts.

“Where is he?” You expect her to go into detail, whether it’s a meeting or at dinner with Nellie. But Rose never does. Instead, she gives a simple answer.

“It’ll just be a moment.” With that, Rose walks out and shuts the door behind her.

It doesn’t take long for Nico to come walking through the door, Timo trailing right behind, but when he does, you notice his attire. He’s wearing a bowtie. Which only means he has something important going on.

“Y/N? What are you doing here?” Disregarding his question, you plea to him with your eyes. He notices the quiver of your lip and how tears threaten to leave your eyes. Nico senses something is up.

“We’re gonna need the room, please.” He demands Timo. Nico’s eyes never leave yours. Almost as if there is a magnetic pull to the two of you. Timo stands there dumbfoundedly and questions the President.

“But, Nico you have to give that toast to the President of Mexico in 10 minutes. Maybe this could wait until after?” Nico’s eyes finally leave yours. He turns to Timo and repeats himself.

“I said we need the room,” Nico demands almost instantly. That being so, Timo lowers his head, and his hand reaches to the door handle so he can close the door behind him. Once Nico hears the click of the door shutting fully closed he whispers your name. You take no time to finally repeat the word you know Gwen was talking about.

“Schatzli, huh?” The word rolls off your tongue as if it’s venom. It makes you want to curl up into a ball and never be seen again. Nico turns to you and you repeat the word of endorsement like it’s a chant. You’re angry and Nico knows it. With that, Nico points up ahead. There sits a security camera that overlooks the majority of the room. Watching your every move. Nico knows he can’t have a conversation about Vanessa knowing he’s being recorded. Good thing he was a smart man. During the first week after his inauguration, he managed to find out that the camera doesn’t record past his desk. So the pair of you had rendezvous against the large crystalline window that overlooks Nellie’s garden and a patio. Countless times.

Nico guides you to stand in front of the window with a simple, “Come here.” To that, you obey. As to why? You don’t even know the answer to that considering all you see is rage. You reach him, keeping your distance but still out of the security camera’s view. Disgust and humiliation still sits on your face, never intended to leave soon.

Nico is the first to speak amongst you two. “You left me.” He can’t even look you in the eye when he finally admits the truth. A man who lies is always a coward.

“Because you are married! You said you wanted to dedicate yourself to your marriage! I wanted you to be a better man and be the man that I campaigned for-” Nico cuts you off by slowly taking steps towards you. You don’t need to be a genius to know what he’s doing.

“Do not touch me.” You planned for it to come out stern but ended up sounding like a hurt duckling. But that you were. The look in Nico’s eye confirms that he was not listening to you. Instead of him pleading for you to hear him out, he steps even closer. Once he reaches you, his hands rest upon your hips. His body aching to make contact with yours. Your body is pressed up against the large window with another step. Nico’s eyes stare down at you, faces only mere inches apart. The pair of you already know where the next thing leads to but you’re not letting him go that easily.

Before his lips can make contact with yours, you push at his chest to get him off of you. Putting all force you can conjure into the shove. You turn around and before you can think your right hand makes contact with his left cheek with a hard smack!

“I believed you! You clouded my judgment! I wanted to believe you because I love you and THIS is what you do to me? She tried to kill herself! Did you know she’s lying in a hospital bed because she slashed her wrists open? I destroyed that girl-” Everything happens too fast and you can’t even see through the tears that started falling just moments ago. Nico finally dared to walk up to you and kiss you. His right hand has ahold of the back of your neck. While the other is on your upper arm, keeping you in place. It takes less than a second for you to come to terms with what’s happening. As mad as you are at Nico, you couldn’t help but feel the need to return the kiss. Your internal dialogue screams at you to stop. To step away and never talk to him again.

The kiss is slow and passionate, Nico doesn’t want to rush into anything further because he knows you won’t hesitate to take a step back and slap him again. You had the balls no one ever did. Before Nico can gain access to your mouth with his tongue, one of the doors is swung open.

“I just want to let you know that we can hear you yelling.” By the time Timo shuts the door, Nico and you have created a small fragment of distance away from each other. The satin pinky nude lipstick you wore, transferred onto Nico’s lips. Your hair is a bit disheveled and the pair of you are out of breath. Timo was a smart man so it didn’t take much for him to recognize what was happening behind closed doors. Timo clears his throat before he speaks.

“Mr. President, I recommended you go wash up.” Timo puts his hands in his pockets and refuses to look you in the eye.

“Timo-”

“No. You have lipstick on your mouth. You have a toast to give. Go. Now.” With that, Nico obeys and leaves the room, not even looking back towards you. Timo and you bask in a moment of silence. You stand there like a doe who has yet to learn how to walk. The feeling of embarrassment is an understatement to say at least. In times like these, where Timo puts his foot down, it makes you feel like a child being scolded for writing on the wall with markers.

Timo walks up to the President’s desk and admires the picture he has of the three of you. It was the day of Nico’s inauguration, the picture was taken right after Nico’s speech. Timo wishes things could go back to the way they were.

“Oh mein gott,” Timo mutters under his breath. After the past two years of knowing Timo, you’d expect that he knew about the affair.

“You didn’t know? He tells you everything.” You scoff. Nico and Timo are close. Like brothers, who manage to piss each other off all day every day but that doesn’t get in the way of Nico telling Timo every personal detail that goes on in his life.

“He didn’t tell me this.” He shakes his head and looks down at his feet.

You wipe a tear that cascades down your left cheek and quickly mutter, “Because it didn’t matter.” In disbelief, you walk towards the couch, reaching for your purse. Feeling the sudden need to get out of the one place you do not wish to be at. Timo tries to grab at your wrist, tries to talk you into staying but you’re too fast enough for him to get a good grip. Once you reach the door, you adjust your purse and push the straps up against your shoulder blade. You take a deep breath, fighting the urge to stay. Alas, your right hand makes contact with the gold door knob and you twist and push the door open. With every last bit of courage you have, you step out of the Oval Office with your head up high. You’ve got a man to get out of jail.

#nico hischier #nico hischier x reader #nico hischier imagine #nico hischier fanfic #nico hischier x oc #nico hischier smut #nh13 #new jersey devils #ebs writes things!

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sinofwriting · 1 year ago

Text

Homecoming - Oscar Piastri/Reader/Logan Sargeant

Words: 3,290 Summary: She hasn’t seen them since April and she can only hope that they aren’t mad that she lied to them. Note(s): Thank you @casperlikej for this commission! Had a lot of fun writing it! NSFW. Takes place in 2023. Reader is in the military. Reader is an American, who also somewhat grew up in the UK, but it’s all very vague. Also, don’t surprise people in showers, injuries can and will happen. Read Part Two Here

Masterlist | Support Me! | Part of Sin's 5k & B-Day Celebration

“I’m sorry.” She apologizes.

“It’s okay, baby.” Logan says.

Oscar nods, but there’s worry in his eyes. “Is everything okay?”

She nods, “yeah, they just gave me the wrong date. It wasn’t until I was talking to my CO about leaving that they realized. I should’ve said something sooner.”

“It happens.” Oscar tells her and she can see through the computer screen the way his fingers twitch, obviously wanting to reach out, and her heart aches.

She misses them so much, both her boys. Hasn’t seen them since April when China got canceled and they both managed to get away from their teams to see her. But she hasn’t really seen them since last year, since 2022, when Oscar was just a reserve and Logan was in F2 with their weird spotty schedule. They didn’t have as many race dates or things to attend. They had spent so much time with her then.

“Do they have your next date for leave?”

She shakes her head. “Not yet. I think they’re trying to figure out how they gave me the wrong date.” She shrugs. “But it could mean I get some extra time.”

Oscar snorts but Logan nods.

“You’ll let us know as soon as you can?”

“Of course, Lo. As soon as they tell me, I’ll text you. Have a good day, though, both of you.” Both their noses wrinkle but they nod.

And with I love you’s exchanged, she hangs up, looking at the packed suitcase next to her. Hopefully they wouldn’t be too mad that she lied.

—

Being in the military wasn’t exactly something she planned on. Not as a little girl, not as a preteen and not at fifteen when she discovered she liked both her best friends.

But then she was seventeen wanting to apply to different colleges and programs and her parents had to sit down and tell her that while they had this nice house and the family home in Florida and cars and she hadn’t really wanted for anything, that was all they had. They didn’t have enough money for her to apply to three colleges, let alone the near twenty she wanted to.

It had been a fight instantly. Because she didn’t know what she wanted to do. And for the past year they had been telling her that it was okay and that she’d have college to figure that out and it had been a lie. She remembers throwing things in a bag and going to Oscar’s brand-new place, because he was already eighteen and his parents wanted him to be comfortable.

She remembers throwing herself in his arms and then Logan’s because of course Logan was also there. Remembers crying because it kind of felt like her world was ending. She remembers the way they both had soothed her, held her, let her rage and sob. She remembers the way after when she was more calmed down, the shock gone from her system, they presented a bunch of options for her.

Working with them, working for Oscar’s dad, working for Logan’s uncle, doing this in college and that, just something, anything that sounded appealing and she can remember how she shook her head after every option and how despite that they didn’t get frustrated or angry, they just said okay before offering another until they ran out of things to offer.

It was her uncle, though he wasn’t really her uncle, that told her she should think about the military. She laughed at first thinking he was joking, but he hadn’t laughed with her, instead looked at her seriously.

“You know that I served.” And she had nodded, she had faint memories of being in elementary school or even younger back in Florida and seeing him in uniform, medals and ribbons on his chest. “And you know I’ve said a lot about it. Never kept quiet.”

“Rock and a hard place.”

He smiled for a second at her words before looking all serious again. “Exactly. What I’m saying is, it’s an option. And nowadays, your contracts aren’t as long depending on the branch like when I enlisted and I’ve got friends.”

“I don’t think I’ll like it.”

He laughed at her words. “No one knows if they’ll like it until they are in it. Just think about it. It’s something and it will give you time, paid time, to figure out what you really want to do.”

And she had thought about it. She thought about the pros and the cons, how the cons outweigh the pros for her and she nearly didn’t go through with it because of Logan and Oscar. Because they just had to confess to her, tell her that they liked her, wanted to be with her and how could she not tell them the same when it was true? She couldn’t. She had nearly called it good, happy to bounce between them playing personal assistant or social media admin or something, they didn’t really know what she’d do going back and forth, but then she saw her uncle again, a week before she turned eighteen.

He hadn’t said anything, hadn’t brought it up, hadn’t even mentioned the military. But just seeing him reminded her of their conversation, of the way she spent hours upon hours after considering it.

Seeing him made her realize she had to go through with it.

She doesn’t really remember telling Logan and Oscar her decision. She remembers how they reacted, both surprised, unaware she had been considering it. Logan had been understanding, but he was from America just like her, he had family in the service. Oscar didn’t understand, couldn’t understand why. It hadn’t been a fight, not that she remembered, but she knew that her decision had nearly broken them that day.

—

“You reenlisting?” Her uncle’s voice is gruff.

“No, sir.”

He grumbles, lips twitching into a smile. “Good. And don’t call me sir. You in reserves now?”

She nods. “As of last week.”

“Logan and Oscar know?”

She throws him a look. “Why would you be driving me to Vegas if they knew?”

He laughs. “Fair. They’re doing good, right? In their Formula One thing?”

She smiles, “Yeah, they’re doing alright. Did you like COTA?”

He shrugs, merging onto the freeway. “Didn’t understand it, but it was alright. Beer was overpriced.” “Always is at events.”

“I remember when you could get a six-pack,” he starts and she mouths along with him, having heard this since she was ten, unable to not smile as she does so. “What?” He asks, seeing her smile.

“Nothing.” She tells him. “Just happy to see you haven’t changed.”

—

Vegas is annoying, she decides as she waves her uncle off, the older man having decided to stick around and try his luck at one of the casinos. Or rather the traffic currently in Vegas is annoying.

Pulling out her phone she texts Benny letting him know that she’s at the hotel. Looking around she smiles at all the lights and people milling around. She’d give Vegas this, it was pretty cool to look at.

“Y/N!” She turns her head, smiling at Logan’s trainer. “You got here early!” He chuckles, pulling her into a hug that she returns with one arm, still having a hand on her suitcase.

“We made good time. Switched off driving, so saved us a bit from having to stop really.”

He pats her on the back before letting her go. “But it was good.”

She nods. “All good. How are you? How are the kids?”

He grins. “They’re good, amazing, really. Excited that the season is ending and I’ll be home.”

“Logan was telling me that you aren’t going to be his trainer next season.”

Benny sighs, looking sad as they step foot into the hotel. “The kids are getting older, I want to be there more. If there was a way I could stay on, but not have to go to all the races I would. I love the kid, he’s like one of mine.”

She looks at him considering. She’d been around Logan and Oscar for ten years now, had been around their trainers for over five years, seeing what they did had made it easy for her to choose her degree that the military paid for while she served a year after she joined.

“Maybe you could.”

His eyebrow raises.

“I have a degree in sports medicine.”

“But you have a year left.”

She shakes her head. “That last year is reserves, unless we are going to war and all the active reserves have been called, I’m not going back in.”

“Logan didn’t say.”

“They don’t know.”

Benny makes a weird huff sound, shaking his head. “You’re going to knock them off their feet this weekend.”

She laughs. “Maybe. Just talk to Sarah about it first, I’ll follow you around this weekend and next and we can talk about it with Logan.”

“I don’t have to talk about it with Sarah, she’d be thrilled, she wasn’t fond of the idea in the first place. And Logan…” He shakes his head. “If you think Logan won’t be jumping at the idea of having you around twenty-four seven, you’ve lost it.”

“Still! Talk about it with Sarah first, just in case.”

He shakes his head, but agrees, handing her a key card as they stop in front of a hotel room door. “This is their room. Gentle with them.”

“Kim ask you to relay that message as well?”

“Yes.”

She laughs, nodding. “I will. Promise.”

He rolls his eyes, but there’s a grin on his face. “Go. I’ll see at least two of you tomorrow.”

“Bye Benny. Thank you again for helping me.”

“Of course.”

She watches as he walks down the hallway before taking out his own key card and entering his hotel room, just a few rooms down. Turning back to face the hotel room door, excitement starts to fill her. She was finally going to see them, be with them.

Pressing the key to the reader, she holds her breath as she waits for the door to unlock, breathes again when it does and she twists the door knob, letting herself in.

The door swings open quietly and her feet and suitcase make no noise against the carpet as she steps inside. There’s the faint sound of the shower running and music playing, and a large smile spreads across her lips. This was the routine she was used to, that hadn’t changed. Them coming back to their hotel room or when finally checking in, getting what they needed put away if they were staying long enough and then putting on some music and hopping in the shower.

The door closes with a small click as she shuts it, kicking off her shoes next to Oscar’s and Logan’s as she does. She hopes as she puts her suitcase next to Logan’s, that the shower is big enough for the three of them, but they’ve made do with some fairly small showers before.

Stepping further into the hotel room, she nearly giggles at the song playing, able to hear it clearly now with the way the bathroom door isn’t completely closed. She loves them so much.

Spotting the dirty clothes bag she bought Oscar for Christmas last year as a stock stuffer, right by the bathroom door, propped against the wall and already filled with a pair of jeans, shorts, shirts and socks, she adds her own pants, shirt, underwear and socks. A quiet sigh leaving her when she takes her bra off, which she carefully places on the back of an armchair.

The bathroom tiles are warm underneath her feet and she lets out a little oh, having expected them to be cold.

Her eyes dart to the sink where the large mirror behind is covered in steam, but her eyes quickly leave it to settle on the shower.

It’s big, maybe just big enough for the three to fit in, but she can’t focus on that because Oscar and Logan are there. She can’t see much, the glass of the shower just as covered in steam as the mirror, but she can see the shapes of their bodies, close together, holding each other as the water hits them.

Taking a deep breath, she steps towards the shower door. She shivers as her fingertips press against the glass before fingers move to open it and poking her head in, voice soft as she looks at them. “Room for one more?”

She watches as they separate, Oscar turning to look at her, and they both look at her with confusion and shock, before wide smiles take over their entire faces, eyes shining with happiness.

Oscar the closer of the two reaches forward and she quickly steps in, nearly slipping in her hurry, but Oscar has an arm around her before she can, tucking her into his chest, as Logan shuffles around. The door to the shower closes with a slight noise before his arms are around her as well.

Tension immediately leaves her body at the feeling of them both, and tears start to slip from her eyes. “I missed you guys so much.”

“We missed you too, baby.”

“So much.” Oscar echoes, arms tightening around her before loosening and she’s being pulled away slightly. She wants to protest, but then his lips are on hers and she moans, sinking into his kiss.

“Lo,” she whines when Oscar stops kissing her, lips tingling.

Oscar chuckles, the sound rich and so familiar it wants to make her cry again, but she’s being turned around and Logan is kissing her, his palms cupping her cheeks.

“I missed this so much.” Logan breathes against her lips. “Missed the three of us so much.”

“Never again.” She tells him, tells Oscar, tells them. “Never again. I don��t have to go back, I’m in inactive reserves and I’m not reenlisting. I’m yours, both of yours.” The words come out in a rush, nearly tripping over each other, but she can’t wait, can’t have them thinking that this will just be a short reunion before she has to leave them again.

“Thank god.” Logan breathes before pressing their lips together. “Thank god.” He murmurs again when they separate before she’s turned around to face Oscar again, who practically swallows her whole.

His lips are insistent on hers as his hands clutch at her hips, fingers digging painfully and she hopes that he leaves bruises, wishes that he’d make his grip even tighter, knows he can. She tries to pull away, to ask him to, but he keeps following her lips. Like if he isn’t kissing her, she’ll disappear, so she stops trying. Lets him kiss her, moans when Logan’s lips land on her shoulder, pressing kisses that trail up to the top of it and along the shell of her ear before trailing back down.

“We,” she gasps when Oscar finally stops kissing her, though his lips instead fall to her breasts going between the two, unable to decide which one he wants to give attention to more. “We can’t do this in here.”

The next moments are a blur as they scramble out of the shower, out of the bathroom and tumble into bed, soaking the duvet, pillows, and sheets with their wet naked bodies. It’s a blur of lips on hers, on her body, of fingers pressing and pulling. She remembers clearly the first press of fingers into her body, of Oscar’s tongue laving at her, of the kiss Logan and Oscar shared between her thighs. It blurs with her first and second orgasm.

She remembers clearly as well, the first sink of Oscar’s cock into her, her back to his chest as he laid down, the way he pressed all the way into her, not letting her adjust. She doesn’t remember the apparent fumble for lube or the first two fingers that Logan had carefully sunk into her alongside Oscar’s cock. She remembers the stretch of his three fingers and Oscar’s cock, and finally the stretch of him sinking into her as well. The near painful stretch of having both of them inside her at the same time, in the same hole.

Her mind is still blurry, still coming down from pleasure when they finally break the silence of just trying to catch their breaths and music still playing from the bathroom.

“That was so good.”

She makes a small noise in agreement.

“You felt so good.” Oscar says, kissing her shoulder and she shudders at the feeling. “You both did.” And she can hear the sound of Oscar kissing Logan.

“Logan’s gonna hold you now, okay.” Oscar tells her as she still lays somewhat on top of him. “Both of your legs are shaking.” That makes her blink and look down, swallowing hard because she hadn’t even realized hers were shaking. “And I need to clean you up and get some water for all us, okay?”

She nods.

Despite him telling her that, she still nearly whines when he moves out from under her, but he quickly pushes her into Logan’s arms who eagerly holds her close. She hadn’t seen if his legs were shaking as well like Oscar said, but she doubts it with the way Logan manages to turn her around in his arms and pull her so she’s on top of him, her breasts pressed against his chest just the way he likes.

“Love you so much, baby.” Logan murmurs into her hair. “You were so good for us. Just fell apart over and over again. Gave us five orgasms.”

She makes a surprised sound. That didn’t sound right.

“A whole five, baby. It was fucking amazing.”

She nuzzles into his neck and he continues speaking, knowing the sound and feeling is soothing.

He stops when Oscar comes back, making a tutting noise at how they are positioned which makes her mumble Logan’s name and Oscar runs a hand down her calf.

“I know, darling. You’re alright. You though,” and she can picture the way Oscar is looking at Logan, pointing a finger at him. “How am I supposed to clean you up?”

She feels Logan shrugs as best as he can with her on top of him. “The way you usually do.”

The younger makes a huffing sound but is quiet. She can feel his breath against her leg as he most likely bends.

Logan makes a small noise and she kisses his neck. “Cold?”

“No, it’s warm.” He reassures her.

She hums and when it’s her turn she doesn’t even jolt at the feeling of the washcloth running over her most sensitive parts and her thighs.

“Alright, you two, you both got to sit up to drink some water.” Oscar says, as he climbs back into bed with them.

Logan grumbles and she turns her head to watch as Oscar gets comfy with his back against the headboard, three water bottles on his nightstand.

He’s still naked, probably not even thinking of pulling on underwear or sweats on and it makes her want to curl up in his lap. He seems to feel her eyes on him because he smiles, all soft, sweet, fond and he’s opening his arms and she carefully moves off Logan to do what she thought about it.

Her head rests on his shoulder, as she sits sideways on his lap, facing Logan, who watches them both with that awestruck look of his as he sits up and scoots closer until him and Oscar are sitting side by side and he can draw her feet into his lap, stilling letting her stay curled up in Oscar’s lap, but getting some contact with her.

“Love you both.”

“We love you too.”

@darleneslane @copper-boom @eutrizbea @kimmib13 @elliegrey2803 @stopeatread @hiireadstuff @tallrock35

#loscar x reader #oscar piastri x reader x logan sargeant #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 x reader #f1 smut #formula 1 smut #sins 5k bday bash fics #sins fics

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ikiprian · 1 year ago

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Barbara Gordon's Coding & Computer Cram School is a popular YouTube series. Tucker Foley is a star student.

Barbara Gordon's Cram School posts free online courses for both coding and computer engineering. Think Crash Course in terms of entertainment, but college lecture in terms of depth. Hundreds of thousands of viewers flock to it— students who missed a class, people looking to add new skills to a resume, even simple hobbyists. It’s a project Barbara’s proud of.

Sometimes, when she wants to relax, she’ll even hop in the comments and spend an afternoon troubleshooting a viewer’s project with them.

User “Fryer-Tuck” has especially interesting ones. Barbara finds herself seeking out his comments, checking in on whatever this crazy kid is making next. An app for collecting GPS pings and assembling them on a map in real-time, an algorithm that connects geographic points to predict something’s movement taking a hundred other variables into account, simplified versions of incredibly complex homemade programs so they can run on incredibly limited CPU’s.

(Barbara wants to buy the kid a PC. It seems he’s got natural talent, but he keeps making reference to a PDA. Talk about 90’s! This guy’s hardware probably predates his birth.)

She chats with him more and more, switching to less public PM threads, and eventually, he opens up. His latest project, though, is not something Barbara has personal experience with.

FT: so if you found, hypothetically, a mysterious glowing substance that affects tech in weird and wacky ways that could totally have potential but might be vaguely sentient/otherworldly…. what would you do and how would you experiment with it. safely, of course. and hypothetically

BG: I’d make sure all my tests were in disposable devices and quarantined programs to keep it from infecting my important stuff. Dare I ask… how weird and wacky is it?

FT: uhhh. theoretically, a person composed of this substance once used it to enter a video game. like physical body, into the computer, onto the screen? moving around and talking and fighting enemies within the game?

FT: its been experimented with before, but not on any tech with a brain. just basic shields and blasters and stuff, its an energy source. also was put in a car once

FT: i wanna see how it affects software, yk? bc i already know it can. mess around and see how far i can push it

BG: […]

FT: … barbara?

BG: Sorry, thinking. Would you mind sharing more details? You said “blasters?”

Honestly. Kid genius with access to some truly wacky materials and even wackier weapons, she needs to start a file on him before he full sends to either hero or villain.

[OR: Tucker is a self-taught hacker, but if he were to credit a teacher, he'd name Barbara Gordon's Coding & Computer Cram School! He's even caught the attention of Dr. Gordon herself. She's full of sage advice, and with how she preaches the value of a good VPN, he's sure she's not pro-government. Maybe she'll help him as he studies the many applications of ecto-tech!]

#she does end up sending tucker a PC lol #and after she learns he has experience supporting a superhero team maybe pushes his name forward to WEs outreach program for r&d potentials #picks him up by the scruff and says MY coding buddy #also fun fact she had a phd in library science at one point. i like that about her i think we should talk about it a little more #also tucker was making a ghost reporting & tracking app for amity parkers #dpxdc #dcxdp #barbara gordon #tucker foley #prompt #kipwrite

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scariusaquarius · 1 month ago

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rehab. 38.

Avenger! Bucky Barnes x Winter Soldier! Fem! Reader

Summary: While on a mission to find any more possible super soldiers that were a part of the Winter Soldier program, Steve and Bucky make a discovery in an abandoned HYDRA base that was cleared out a few years prior to their mission. They discover the Reader, a long-forgotten soldier that was still asleep within a functioning cryostasis pod; still awaiting orders. While Bucky isn't happy about it, he is put up to the challenge of helping to rehabilitate the soldier in Wakanda where she may be able to become a person again.

A/n: ugh this fuckin headache is relentless. i've eaten, i've had water, i've had caffeine, what else could it be other than my manbones trying to escape this meat prison rip. Not only that, but life keeps hitting snags. Why does god have to give his toughest battles to his silliest of gooses. Also, if you enjoy my work, please consider buying me a coffee! If you would prefer to read Rehab on Archive, you may do so right HERE!

This is an au where Bucky joined the avengers but still rehabilitated in Wakanda (sometime before Infinity War [canon divergent cause NOPE]). I am NOT fluent in Russian, so I did use google translate cause I couldn't find a good translator that I trusted. If anything is wrong, PLEASE let me know!! Also, I tried to list as many warnings as possible so you know what the story will contain as chapters are posted. Stay safe!

Genre: Slowburn, Enemies to Lovers/Friends to Lovers, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Humor, Drama, Dark Content Rated: Explicit Warning: Angst, Dark Content: Graphic Depictions of Sexual Assault, Blood and Gore, Mentions of Manipulation, Kidnapping, Canon-Typical Violence, Body Horror, Nonconsensual Body Modification/Scarring, Emotional and Physical Abuse, Mentions of Murder, Mentions of Suicidal Thoughts/Ideation, Graphic Depictions of Human Remains, Mentions of Sexual Coercion/Manipulation, Death, Misuse of Drugs/Forced Drugging, Self-Harm (Graphic Depictions and Mentions), Nightmares

Author: ScariusAquarius

rehab masterlist. / rehab masterlist 2. chapter 34 / chapter 35 / chapter 36 / chapter 37

"How are you feeling now?"

The room felt crowded; the walls starting to close in on her as she sat on the bed in front of her. Her legs were crossed, posture relaxed despite the professional gait she seemed to consistently carry; notebook in her lap. Her eyes were ever-observing, taking in every little thing about her.

Though, (Y/n) was doing the exact same. She was aware of what Raynor was trying to do: making herself look comfortable and laidback to make (Y/n) put her guard down, but (Y/n) wasn't one to fall for tricks so easily.

(Y/n) was sitting back in the chair at Steve's temporary desk, her crochet bag protectively behind her. Her eyes were staring down Raynor, taking in every detail and profiling her from her posture down to the way a piece of her hair was framing her face. She was tense; an uncomfortable feeling settling into her as (Y/n) and Raynor stared each other down.

Bucky was standing against the wall, his arms crossed as he quietly gazed between the two of them. On the outside, it seemed as though the two women were trying to size each other up despite that not being the case. Though, to Bucky, it was a bit funnier to think of it like that.

(Y/n) seemed to look uncomfortable, and Bucky wondered if it was because of Raynor's question or from being in her presence at all. His lips curled into a thin line, and he glanced at Raynor. She was paying the man no mind, her focus on (Y/n), and he almost rolled his eyes when Raynor clicked her pen and began to write. (Y/n) watched her with a furrowed brow, and she finally spoke up quietly.

"I feel...confused."

Raynor nodded, asking her further as she tilted her head to the side, pausing her writing as she regarded the woman with an inquisitive look on her face.

"Alright, that's a start. Why do you feel confused?"

(Y/n)'s lips curled into a thin line as her eyebrows furrowed deeply, the woman becoming silent for a pregnant pause before she murmured.

"The memories...and voices....I don't know if they are real or...what HYDRA...programmed...I was born into HYDRA."

Bucky felt his mood drop, a sense of melancholy and sympathy coming over him, and there was a part of him that wanted nothing more than to tell (Y/n) the complete truth. However, the man stayed quiet, feeling equally horrible as he did. Raynor continued to write as she conducted the evaluation, (Y/n) watching as she wrote, and she murmured.

"Rebecca would write with me."

Raynor paused, and Bucky felt his heart jump a little in his chest. Raynor asked, raising her brow slightly.

"Rebecca? Who is Rebecca?"

(Y/n) glanced at Bucky, and Bucky nodded to her subtly. (Y/n) then looked back at Raynor and stated.

"My friend."

Raynor hummed, shaking her head a little bit.

"I'm going to need a bit more than that, (Y/n). In order me to help you, I need you to be as open and honest with me as possible. You don't have to tell me everything immediately, but remembering things is important and needs to be noted."

HYDRA does not tolerance defectiveness.

(Y/n) winced at the thought, and Raynor paused, squinting her eyes for a moment. She observed (Y/n) and the way she was fidgeting; her fingers rubbing and pulling at her other hand, her toes curling and uncurling, the way her eyes were darting to the floor and the wall as if she was looking for another escape route. She was worried; apprehensive and uncomfortable.

"It's okay if you don't want to tell me, nobody is going to force you to."

(Y/n) bit her lip before closing her eyes, and she shakily sputtered out.

"M-My friend...Rebecca...she...she was pretty in the sunlight. She was th....Bucky's Rebecca."

Bucky looked at Raynor when Raynor gave him a subtle look of surprise, and he explained.

"Her Aunt Mavis lived in Shelbyville, and when (Y/n) visited there for the summer, she met Rebecca. Rebecca and Mavis were churchgoers."

Raynor hummed, nodding, and she looked at (Y/n) again.

"Interesting, if not coincidental. (Y/n), do you remember your Aunt Mavis?"

(Y/n) shook her head, humming.

"No. I...think I remember her voice...but...I only know her through...through my picture."

Raynor nodded before she asked carefully.

"Would you be open to showing me these pictures?"

"Нет!" (no!)

Raynor and Bucky were both surprised by the hiss, (Y/n)'s fingers clenching as she turned towards the crochet bag and held it close. Raynor hummed softly, writing again, and she uncrossed her legs in order to sit much more comfortably.

"It's okay, (Y/n), nobody is going to take those from you. I just wanted you to tell me about them and what they meant to you."

(Y/n) shook her head, her eyes filled with tears as her lips curled back and bared her teeth.

"I...I don't know what they mean...but they're mine...I know it. I....I know they are."

The fact that she could acknowledge that the memories were hers was good progress, and Bucky began to feel much more hopeful. His shoulders relaxed, and he looked at Raynor for silent permission. Raynor nodded to him once, and Bucky carefully sat down next to (Y/n).

Although she didn't realize it, (Y/n) relaxed a bit, glancing at Bucky, and Bucky comforted her gently and placed his flesh hand against her arm softly.

"It's okay, (Y/n). You don't have to be afraid. If you don't want to talk about them, then you don't have to."

"I...don't want them to be taken again."

She looked sad and frightened, (Y/n)'s pupils constricted, and Bucky shook his head.

"Nobody is going to take them. They'd have to go through me first."

His lips twitched into a small and teasing smile, testing the waters, and (Y/n) asked him softly.

"You would...fight...for me?"

Bucky immediately nodded.

"Without question."

(Y/n) looked stupefied by his words, and Raynor quietly observed while writing as (Y/n) spoke softly.

"Even...even if I don't deserve it?"

Suddenly, Germany came into Bucky's mind, the Avengers all pitted against one another and how many of them had fought for him. Bucky took a deep breath, and he replied.

"It doesn't matter if you don't deserve it or not. You're a person at the end of the day, and what happened...it wasn't your fault. It was HYDRA. You were a victim...just like I was."

His words were short and to-the-point, but they were effective enough to have (Y/n) relaxing her hold on the crochet bag filled with snippets of her life. (Y/n) pulled back slightly, glancing down at the bag for a pregnant pause, and she slowly took out of the tin box. Rubbing her scarred fingers along the lid, (Y/n) murmured softly again.

"I...I don't want them to be taken."

"Nobody is ever going to take them from you again. I promise."

Bucky's voice was firm enough to make (Y/n) look at him, and she believed him. His conviction was easy to see, his blue eyes serious and facial expression contorted into one of determination. Bucky looked as though he was ready to fight at any moment, and it made (Y/n) surprised yet comforted at the fact that it was for her.

He was willing to fight for her. To protect her memories and keep her from HYDRA.

(Y/n) clenched her jaw, unable to look at him anymore, and she turned back around in her seat, holding onto the tin box tightly. She was trembling slightly, almost afraid to show them, and Raynor glanced down at the old, weathered tin.

It was a Huntley and Palmer biscuit tin with a printed picture of the painting of Truth Coming Out of Her Well to Shame Mankind by Jean-Léon Gérôme on the lid. There were gold accents that were tarnished all around the side, a yellowed piece of tape on the side that had (initials) etched on the side in beautiful calligraphy, and there were a few dents in the side.

(Y/n) was clutching the box with apprehension, and when she hesitated, Raynor shook her head slightly.

"You don't have to show me if you don't want to. These memories are extremely important to you, especially since HYDRA would take them away from you often. It's a pretty big deal that you have these, so I understand if you're not ready. You can show me whenever you are, (Y/n). There's no right or wrong answer to this."

(Y/n) looked down at the tin, thinking for a moment. The silence in the room was heavy, blanketing over the trio like weights upon their shoulders, and (Y/n) whispered.

"I...haven't seen all of them...but I know they're mine."

Raynor encouraged gently.

"That's good that you know that. It means that you're really starting to get a grasp on those memories and your identity."

(Y/n) swallowed thickly before she carefully opened the tin. She set aside the two pictures that her and Bucky had seen before, and Bucky leaned over a bit to look at the new one that had been hidden beneath.

It was a black and white photo, (Y/n) looking to be a toddler. She was wearing a cute sundress and sunhat, boots on her feet as she stood in the garden. She was pointing down at a flower that had a butterfly sitting upon the petals, and a look of awe was on her face. Doris was behind her, hands on her arms to steady (Y/n), a wide smile on her face.

(Y/n) frowned as she looked at the picture. There was no memory that was attached to it, no recognition nor any feeling or emotion that overcame her. To (Y/n), it was just another picture, and so she placed it to the side almost carelessly; immediately disinterested.

The next image was another black and white photo, but this time, it was of Doris, (Y/n), and Robert at the beach. (Y/n)'s eyes widened at the sight of Robert's face, and her body tensed up. Horror reflected within her eyes as she looked at the picture, and she stared deep into Robert's eyes.

Although there was a smile on his face, even (Y/n) could see the annoyance and indignation within his cruel eyes. His arm was not around Doris nor (Y/n) within the picture, and (Y/n) found it to be odd. Doris, however, looked happy to be there with (Y/n), holding the toddler on her hips with a large smile and pretty sunglasses on her face.

Despite this, however, (Y/n) couldn't take her eyes off of Robert. She whispered shakily, clutching the picture tightly.

"It's...it's him....my...my father....I remember."

The face filled in the last mannequin in her mind, and the memories began to come to complete life. His angry face when she scared him while in his office, the redness his skin adopted when he was yelling and throwing things around, and the shine of violence that always accompanied his cruel (e/c) eyes.

(Y/n)'s jaw clenched, and a strange feeling of anger began to fill her. White hot rage coursed through her boiling veins, her face darkening the more she began to remember his face. The anger coloring her face in a shadow of darkness made Bucky and Raynor become tense, and (Y/n) clenched her fists tightly.

She stood up, trembling almost violently, and her eyes filled with tears as she glared down at the picture. Her nostrils flared, and she hissed out.

"Я его ненавижу. Я его ненавижу!" (i hate him. i hate him!)

(Y/n) tore him from the picture, allowing the half with her and Doris to fall to the ground as she tore the half of Robert with her hands and teeth, spitting out the bitten pieces out before violently stomping on them as they fell to the ground. Cracks appeared beneath her stomped foot, and she clenched her fists tightly as (Y/n) tried to breathe.

Raynor nor Bucky didn't say anything, just watched with surprise and clinical interest as (Y/n) lashed out. Raynor was writing the whole time, taking her notes, but Bucky was just in awe as he watched (Y/n). She was leaning over now, her eyes squeezed shut as she remembered; hands on her head, and Raynor's voice made her eyes snap open.

"(Y/n), why do you hate him?"

(Y/n) stood up, spinning around and raising her voice, pointing her finger at Raynor.

"I...I hate him! He was...unkind...he would...hurt me and Momma! He would come into my room at night...when Momma was in bed. He would lock the door...and tell me to be good and what I was doing was for a good cause."

(Y/n)'s eyes were wild, and she squeezed her eyes shut again as the tears came down her dampening cheeks. The memories were hitting her hard, shooting fast and hard like bullets, and she was unable to keep the images of the abuse out of her mind.

Why? Why does she have to remember this? Why are they making her?

"I don't want to remember this."

(Y/n) shook her head, clutching at her temples, and when Bucky tried to get up to comfort her, Raynor held her hand out to Bucky with a frown.

"James, what did I say?"

Bucky frowned heavily, giving Raynor a dirty look before slowly sitting back down. Raynor was writing again, and she looked up at (Y/n), who was swaying in place; hands still clutching her temples and eyes squeezed shut.

"(Y/n), can you tell me what you see?"

Hands on her, those horrible eyes, that sneer on his lips, the forbidden sensations of cruelty and twisted hatred as he would stick the needles into her arm while forcing her to stay quiet. (Y/n) whimpered softly.

"He would...use needles...take my blood, inject me with things that...that made me tired. Drugs...I don't know why. I...I don't remember what would happen after...but the needles..."

Her voice trailed off, and an image of Robert forcefully stabbing a needle into her when she was crying too loudly came to her mind, and (Y/n) shook her head furiously. The memory went away, and (Y/n) stood up, holding her arms to her chest as she scrunched her face up into an expression of discomfort. Raynor nodded along as she spoke, and then she hummed.

"Alright, let's move on then. (Y/n), have you ever had coffee before?"

(Y/n) was taken back by the question, not having expected it, and Bucky glanced at Raynor, knowing exactly what she was doing.

Distract them from the situation and the panic. Ask them a question that will force them to think of something else.

"Coffee? I...I don't know."

Raynor glanced at Bucky, asking him.

"James, would you be so kind as to get some coffee?"

Bucky nodded, and (Y/n) looked at him with a slightly worried look on her face. Bucky murmured comfortingly.

"I'll be back in a little while."

(Y/n) slowly nodded as she stood awkwardly, and when Bucky left the room, Raynor gestured for (Y/n) to sit down. After some hesitation, (Y/n) sat down and placed her hands into her lap; trepidation causing her fingers to tremble.

Now that Raynor and (Y/n) were alone, Raynor could see just how uncomfortable and...confused...(Y/n) seemed. To Raynor, it seemed as though (Y/n) didn't know a single thing about life outside of HYDRA despite the programming being gone, and she clicked her pen once and twice.

"(Y/n), do you remember things often?"

(Y/n) pursed her lips, frowning slightly as she took a moment to think.

"Sometimes...I dream about...things. Other times, I remember...when hearing music, or the pictures."

Raynor nodded and she asked, sitting back in her seat while tilting her head.

"Earlier, you mentioned your Aunt Mavis. Do you remember your uncle?"

The memory of Christmas came up, and the man that had been in the memory, Uncle Bobby, came to mind.

"I think I had an uncle named Bobby."

Raynor nodded as she jotted it down in her book before (Y/n) continued to speak.

"The picture...of Christmas. It's the only thing I remember of him. Bucky said that the feeling I had when I was looking at it was me missing them."

Raynor looked at (Y/n) for a moment, simply listening as (Y/n) described the memory to her, and when (Y/n) was finished, Raynor closed her book and said.

"I think that it's good that you're making such good progress, (Y/n). I want to ask you a question, and it's okay if you don't know the answer just yet, but what are your goals for us working together? What do you want me to do for you as a therapist?"

(Y/n) pursed her lips into a thin line, frowning deeply. She hadn't really considered what the goal for therapy was. The conversation with Steve and Bucky came to her mind, and she murmured.

"I...want to make amends...and...make things right."

"What do you mean by 'make things right'?"

(Y/n) swallowed, but before she could answer, Bucky came back into the room with a tray of cups and a pair of big pitchers. The smell of coffee began to fill the room, and Bucky set the tray down on the table beside (Y/n). Pouring three cups, Bucky asked Raynor.

"Coffee as black as your soul, or are you not that evil?"

Raynor rolled her eyes before stating.

"One cream, two sugars."

Bucky nodded, making her cup before handing it to her. Raynor thanked him, and Bucky looked at (Y/n) with a slight smile.

"Do you want one?"

(Y/n) looked apprehensive before asking.

"Am I allowed to?"

Bucky looked taken back and he reassured her.

"Yes, you don't have to have permission to have coffee. Here, I'll make one for you. You seem like a 'coffee with your milk' kind of gal."

He poured a bunch of creamer into one of the cups before handing it to her, and (Y/n) gingerly took the cup. Allowing the warmth of the cup to spread through her palms, her back subconsciously relaxed.

Sniffing it slightly, (Y/n) took an experimental sip before glancing at Bucky and Raynor. Bucky sat down, his coffee completely black, and Raynor took a large sip of her coffee.

"Let's circle back. What do you mean by 'make things right,' (Y/n)?"

Bucky immediately glanced at (Y/n) as the woman stared into her coffee. Rubbing the rim of the cup quietly, (Y/n) murmured.

"I...I hurt a lot of people...and I remember the pain, the blood...the girl."

Her eyes became glassy, nostrils flaring, and she swallowed thickly.

"I...don't want to do that again. I want...I want to....do good."

Raynor nodded slightly, clarifying gently.

"So, from what you're telling me, you want to 'make things right' because you're feeling guilty about what you've done."

Guilty? Is that what this heavy sensation in her chest was? (Y/n) looked perturbed for a moment, tilting her head slightly before she whispered.

"Is that what this feeling is? Every...every time I think about them...about the things that I did...there's this heavy feeling that sits on me. It...It makes me feel bad."

Raynor nodded before explaining.

"Guilt can manifest in many different ways, and for someone that wasn't allowed to feel emotions, it can be pretty heavy and scary. I think that one thing that would help you to understand these emotions that you are feeling is to write them down. Every emotion that you feel, write it down and describe it."

(Y/n) was listening closely, nodding along as she listened to Raynor's instructions. Raynor reached into her bag and handed (Y/n) a blank notebook, stating.

"So, what I want you to do for right now is to journal everything. Any time you feel a new emotion that you're having a hard time understanding, any new memories, or even just about what's going on: write it down, and I'll read what you've written next week."

(Y/n) frowned, asking as she looked up at the woman.

"You...won't stay?"

Raynor shook her head, looking genuinely upset by the notion as she replied.

"I can't. I have other clients that I need to see as well, but King T'Challa has been very generous and stated that for our visits, one of the members of the Dora Milaje will retrieve me so that we can make the most out of our time together."

(Y/n) nodded, and Raynor stood after finishing her coffee. Clutching her bag close, she glanced at Bucky with a harder expression.

"Your turn. Let's go, Barnes."

Bucky looked ready to protest, and Raynor frowned deeply, cutting him off with a finger in the air.

"I don't want to hear it. Conference room, James."

Bucky grumbled to himself before he gave (Y/n) an exasperated look.

"She's such an opportunist."

(Y/n) winced out an awkward smile before taking a sip of her coffee, and Bucky sighed, standing as Raynor began to tap her foot against the ground. When they left the room, (Y/n) turned around and set the notebook onto the table. Spying one of Steve's pens that he had left out, she slowly grabbed it.

The feeling of the pen in her hand was strange and almost foreign, but there was a comforting feeling that began to settle in her chest as she opened the notebook. Writing into the first page, (Y/n) pursed her lips. After a moment of hesitation, (Y/n) began to write.

'Journal Entry #1,

My name is (Y/n) (L/n).'

STORY NOTES: The scene opens up to Raynor, (Y/n), and Bucky all together as Raynor conducts her evaluation once more. Raynor begins to investigate (Y/n)'s feelings and the way that she feels, and (Y/n) tells Raynor that Rebecca would write with her. When Raynor inquires about Rebecca, Bucky reveals that (Y/n) Aunt Mavis knew Rebecca through church back in the day. When Raynor asks if (Y/n) remembers her Aunt Mavis, (Y/n) responds that she only remembers her voice and the picture that she has of Mavis. Raynor asks if (Y/n) would be open to showing her these pictures, and (Y/n) lashes out protectively. Raynor comforts (Y/n) by telling her that nobody was going to take the pictures and journals from her, but that she just wanted her to tell about them and what they meant to (Y/n). (Y/n) tells Raynor that she doesn't know what they mean to her, but she knows that the memories are hers. When (Y/n) reveals that she is afraid that her memories will be taken again, Bucky reassures her that nobody will ever take them from her again. (Y/n) is surprised by this, and when she asks if Bucky would really fight for her like that, Bucky confirms without hesitation.

(Y/n) inquires if he still would even if she didn't deserve it, and Bucky begins to reminisce about Germany (Captain America: Civil War), and he replies that it didn't matter if she deserved it or not because she was a victim, just like he had been. When (Y/n) repeats that she doesn't want her memories to be taken again, Bucky is firm as he tells her that nobody will ever wipe her mind again. (Y/n) then begins to contemplate showing some of the pictures to Raynor, and Raynor reassures her that she doesn't have to show them if she doesn't want to because Raynor understands how important they are to (Y/n). Opening the tin, she sets aside the first two pictures that her and Bucky have already seen, and the new picture is of (Y/n) as a toddler while in the garden with Doris. When no memory surfaces because of this picture, (Y/n) moves on. The next picture is of Doris, (Y/n), and Robert while at the beach. When (Y/n) sees Robert's face, she begins to have a panic attack as the memories of the male mannequin finally comes to life. She begins to tear the picture up with rage as she begins to cry, and she begins to repeat how she hates him.

When Raynor inquires about why, (Y/n) reveals that she remembers how Robert would hurt her and Doris. She also reveals that Robert would come into her room at night to conduct experiments; drugging her to make her sleep as Robert experimented. (Y/n) then says that she doesn't want to remember, and when Bucky tries to comfort her, Raynor immediately reprimands him. Bucky reluctantly listens, and Raynor asks (Y/n) to tell her what she sees. (Y/n) describes that she can see him taking her blood and injecting her with things, and she remembers an incident where Robert abused her with the needle for being too loud. In order to distract her from the memory, Raynor asks (Y/n) if she's ever had coffee before.

The tactic works, and Raynor asks Bucky to go get some coffee when (Y/n) responds that she isn't sure. When Bucky leaves, Raynor begins to fully evaluate (Y/n). She notices how uncomfortable and confused the woman seemed, and makes note that she doesn't seem to know a single thing about life outside of HYDRA. She asks (Y/n) if she remembers things often, and (Y/n) replies that she sometimes dreams, but will also remember while listening to music or looking at the pictures. Raynor then asks (Y/n) about her uncle, and (Y/n) tells her that she doesn't remember much of her Uncle Bobby, but tells Raynor that Bucky told her that the feeling she had while looking at the picture was the feeling of 'missing' someone or something. Raynor notes this before asking (Y/n) what her goals for therapy are, and (Y/n) tells her that she wants to 'make things right'. Although Raynor asks for clarification, Bucky comes back with the coffee and interrupts the moment.

After Bucky gives everyone coffee, Raynor circles back to her question, and (Y/n) answers that she remembers how she hurt a lot of people, and remembers the little girl that she had to kill to ensure complete secrecy for HYDRA. She states that she doesn't want to do that again and that she wants to be good. Raynor then clarifies that the reason she wants to do good is because she feels guilty, and (Y/n) becomes surprised that the feeling has a name. (Y/n) reveals that every time she thinks of the people she hurt, she feels that sensation, and Raynor instructs (Y/n) to write down these feelings as she feels them to help her get an understanding of them. She further instructs that she wants (Y/n) to journal everything that she experiences: new feelings, new memories, or anything that happens. She tells (Y/n) that she would read them next week, and (Y/n) is surprised to hear that Raynor will not be staying in Wakanda. When (Y/n) inquires about this, Raynor tells (Y/n) that she has other clients that she has to help, but that T'Challa would assist in her journey to Wakanda so they can have as much time together as possible.

The session with (Y/n) closes, and Raynor takes this opportunity to spring a session onto Bucky, and though Bucky tries to protest, Raynor does not give him an opportunity to. When the two of them leave the room, (Y/n) immediately begins to write, a feeling of familiar comfort coming over her as she writes. End Scene.

TRANSLATIONS:

Я его ненавижу. Я его ненавижу - I hate him. I hate him.

TAGLIST: @mggslefttit @softpia @thebl00dwyrm @buckvoidsyy @chonkybonky @seemsxsketchy @tilldeathripsusapart @vicmc624 @mgchaser @aash3 @samfunko @seventeen-x @valckenaux @babybeeelle @sc4rrc @cjand10 @bane-y-zane @notsostrangerthing @thenameswinter99 @bumblebeebutter @torntaltos @highhopes1008

#bucky barnes x reader #james buchanan barnes x reader #james bucky barnes x reader #winter soldier x reader #the winter soldier x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #james bucky barnes #the winter soldier #winter soldier #marvel #marvel x reader #captain america #captain america x reader

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emberfrostlovesloki · 9 days ago

Text

Ties That Bind [Emily x Reader]

Photo credits: Left (@tubiland) Center (@hotwritergf) Right (@academic-vampire)

Prompt: When Emily and the reader are stuck together as fake victims, the truth about the reader's relationship comes out. Perhaps Emily can offer some friendly advice.

Pairing: Emily x Non!BAU-Reader. The reader uses she/her pronouns.

Category: Comfort

Word Count: 3K

Content Warnings: Tight spaces, hints at abuse [reader]. If I missed any, please let me know.

A/N: I hope you are all doing very well! This is my first submission for @imagining-in-the-margins Stuck Together Challenge (link). The prompt I used was Characters are tied together as fake-victims in a work training exercise, and it takes forever to be saved. This fic was also inspired by Carmen Maria Machado’s In The Dream House, I hope I did it justice. I hope that you enjoy this fic, and if you do, please like, share, and comment. Love Levi - ❤️

List with all stories

y/n = your name

y/l/n = your last name

y/g/s =your girlfriend's name

“Do you think love can save it?” Y/n asked Emily. Prentiss hadn’t meant to slip into her own thoughts, but she had, so she turned her head toward y/n and asked, “Sorry, what was that you said?” Y/n gave a small sigh and replied, “Do you think if I love her enough, my relationship can be saved?” Prentiss bit the inside of her mouth and replied, “Honestly, y/n, if I had that answer, I don’t think I’d be single right now.” That at least got a small laugh out of y/n.

Six Hours Earlier

The cup was held in front of everyone by Rossi, who said, “Alright, team, pick a popsicle stick. If you get the short stick, you're stuck with the probie for the day.” Everyone groaned, but put their hands into the red solo cup and pulled out a stick. JJ, Derek, Aaron, Spencer, and Garcia all gave a sigh of relief, and Emily scrunched her face in disdain as she said, “Oh, come on, guys. This is so unfair. I have files left to do from the last case. I can’t be a victim in a practice activity. I’m already a victim of this paperwork.” Morgan chuckled and replied, “Too bad, sweetheart, it’s your lucky day not to do any work. Just as Prentiss started ugh-ing, she stopped herself as the other victim she was going to be attached to walked into the bullpen. Emily knows y/n by reputation only; she was the top recruit in the N.A.T. program, and because of her high rank, she was also spared from a day of playing search and rescue. Hotch leaned toward Prentiss and said, “Well, Prentiss, have fun today.” His dry humor didn’t go over super well with Emily as the rest of the BAU dispersed back to their desks.

Y/n was a bit awestruck at seeing the BAU in action. This team was legendary by name and reputation alone in the FBI. Before y/n could start drooling or asking questions, a sharply dressed woman, and not any woman, the Emily Prentiss, was walking toward her. Y/n put on a brave face and extended a hand, saying, “Good morning, Agent Prentiss, I’m y/n y/l//n, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” Emily reciprocated the handshake and said, “We, well, I’ve been expecting you. I hear you have our instructions for the day with you?” Y/n nodded and pulled her backpack in front of her chest and unzipped the front, producing a folder. Em noticed that y/n was juggling multiple things in her hands while trying to produce their instructions. Prentiss smiled and asked, “Would you like to set your things down at my desk? It might be easier to get that paper you’re looking for.” Em couldn’t help but notice the gleam in y/n’s eyes as she was still looking around the room. The words took a moment to register, but y/n finally replied, “Oh, yeah sure. That would be nice.” Prentiss led y/n to her desk and y/n, rather ungracefully, set all of her belongings on the already full surface of the desk.” Y/n took a deep breath and said, “I suppose I’m not making that good of an impression, sorry.” Emily smiled and replied, “You don’t need to apologize. This place is kind of captivating. Now, let’s see what our ‘assignment’ is, okay?”

Y/n nodded, relieved that she wasn’t making a total fool of herself before pulling out the needed document. It wasn’t very official-looking, but the assignment had the N.A.T. seal on it, and Emily looked over y/n’s shoulder as y/n read:

Assignment: An Agent from the BAU, and a Potential Agent y/l/n will move to the tenth floor of the Quanitco Field Office and stay in the mechanical closet until you are found by the N.A.T. trainees. The Agent from the BAU will be allowed to take their cellphone, but it must remain on silent mode. For the sake of realism, the pair of Agent and potential Agent will need to have one hand zip-tied together (we recommend the nondominant hand). This is a standard victim finding and recovery training exercise.

Emily muttered under her breath, “You’ve got to be kidding, the mechanical closet on the tenth floor?”

Spencer who’s desk was next to Emily’s heard Prentiss’s comment and said, “Damn, tough luck, Em. The tenth floor is being renovated, and the AC is out.” Prentiss groaned at the comment, and y/n looked at the pair like she’d stepped into something she wasn’t privy to. Emily finally remembered that y/n was there and turned, stating, “Sorry, y/n. I’m not angry at you. I just don’t love the idea of wasting the day in a closet with no AC.” Y/n gave a small shrug. In her heart, she felt like she was somehow responsible for putting the senior agent in this position, even though it really wasn’t her fault. After a beat of silence, y/n put on a hesitant smile and replied, “Well, should we get going? I believe the ‘search and rescue is about to start in half an hour.” Emily nodded and led y/n to the elevator that would take them to the tenth floor.

The tenth floor looked like an abandoned building. There were dust motes and plaster moving around as the pair moved down the hallway. A few uncovered lights flickered ominously as y/n and Emily arrived at the electrical closet. A janitor had been in earlier that morning and unlocked the door ahead of the duo. Prentiss opened the door to the closet and eyed the small space. It became clear to both women that it was going to be a tight, warm few hours that they were going to be locked up together. At least a single light bulb was on from the ceiling, illuminating the cramped space. Half as a joke, Emily extended her hand and told y/n, “After you.” Y/n chuckled and moved to the left side of the space. Prentiss followed after and closed the door behind them. Y/n was basically chest to chest with Emily in the small space as she pulled out the one ziptie they were required to wear. Prentiss wordlessly held out her left hand and y/n clumsily attached herself to the agent. After another beat of silence, y/n tried to lighten the mood by saying, “This feels like the punchline to a bad joke. Two FBI Agents walk into a bar handcuffed…” Y/n stopped after that because she didn’t have a punchline. Emily chuckled and replied, “Yeah, it does. Let’s hope it doesn’t take more than an hour for your classmates to find us.”

One Hour Waiting

After an hour of standing, y/n and Emily gave up and turned back to back and sat on the ground with their legs bunched up near their chests, not fully comfortable. At this point, Prentiss and y/n had gone through most of the pleasantries of conversation. What N.A.T. training was like, what the strangest case Emily had worked on was like, what living in D.C. was like on their pay. Y/n sighed and closed her eyes, saying, “You know I wanted to join the military when I was in high school, but I’m glad I went the F.B.I. route instead.” Emily hummed and asked, “Why’d you want the military, and why pick the F.B.I. instead?” Y/n rubbed her right hand over her face, wiping away the bead of sweat accumulated there, and replied, “I had problems when I was a kid, wanted to get away from home. And honestly, why the F.B.I. I mean you’re going to laugh, but I watched all those crime shows in college and decided I was going to be the next Sherlock Holmes or something.”

Emily did chuckle at that response and said, “Well, you’re top of your class. That’s something at least.” Y/n smiled at that response, but Prentiss couldn’t see it. Y/n thought for a moment and asked, “Did you want to be in the B.A.U.? Was that your plan when you got to the F.B.I.?” Emily paused, she didn’t know how much to share, but decided to go pretty surface level with her response, and she replied, “It was half luck and half timing. A position opened up at the B.A.U., and I needed a job, and I had the skills needed for an important case. Not that I’m bragging, but I had to earn my place on the team, and I ended up doing that. It’s all about impressing the right people, and a bit of leverage where it’s needed. The B.A.U. might not have been my plan, but it’s where I’m at now, and I wouldn’t change that for anything now.”

Two Hours Waiting

Emily was about board to tears at this point. Not that she couldn’t handle small talk, but doing so for what seemed like hours on end was more than a little annoying. But Prentiss had other problems now, apart from sharing pleasantries with y/n. The rumor mill in the Quanitico Office was ever churning, and when there wasn’t any good tea on the agents, the focus often found its place on the N.A.T. trainees. Emily had heard rumors about y/n’s relationship being on the rocks for a few weeks now, and petty as that fact was, Prenitss couldn’t stop thinking about it.

Perhaps it was because y/n was openly a lesbian and queer that made the rocky telationship such a topic of conversation in the office and in Em’s mind. Emily knew that if she was magically y/n’s younger age again, she might not have the guts to be openly gay in what could be considered a bit of a homophobic workplace like the F.B.I. Of course, the organization had all the rules and regulations about diversity and equality, but that didn’t mean that internally the structure could be a bit rotten. Emiky’s bisexuality was known about by the team, but otherwise, she kept those cards close to her chest.

Emily sighed and leaned her head back on y/n’s shoulder. They had started doing that on and off after the first hour as a way to stretch the neck, with the permission of the other. When Em closed her eyes and began to drift, her mouth hadn’t caught up with her brain, and she said aloud, “I hear your girlfriend’s a bit of a tool.” As soon as the words were out of her lips, Prentiss sat ramrod straight, as did y/n. “Excuse me?” Y/n asked in the semidarkness. Emily swallowed heavily and said, “Y/n, I am so, so sorry. I didn’t mean to say that.” Clearly offended, y/n replied, “My relationship has nothing to do with you, or this rather pointless waiting. Don’t bring it up again,” Emily nodded vehemently and said, “I’m sorry, I won’t. That was wrong of me,” In the stillness, y/n whispered, loud enough for Em to hear the hurt in her voice, “It was.”

Three Hours Waiting

There was silence for the next sixty minutes or so, not that either Emily or y/n were counting the minutes. Those just seemed to slip on and on like sand in an infinite hourglass. While they sat, Prentiss internally berated herself for her big mouth, and y/n reflected on what it meant that such a senior agent would know about her personal life.

Four Hours Waiting

Y/n was clearly upset by Agent Prentiss’s comment, but the more she thought about it, the more she wanted to know what Emily had heard about her relationship. y/g/f wouldn’t be happy at all to know that there were speculations at work about them, and somehow that information always got out. Even if y/g/n didn’t work at or near the orbit of the F.B.I. Trying to assess the damage, y/n hesitantly asked, “It’s none of your business… but, what are people saying about me and my partner?”

Emily bit the inside of her cheek. She wanted to say that it was nothing, really nothing, but that wasn’t the truth, and after her stupid blunder, y/n deserved at least that. With a sigh, Prentiss replied, “Well, from what I’ve heard, people think that your girlfriend is a bit controlling and mean. I mean that’s just what I’ve heard,” There was a long pause before Em tacked on softly, “Some people are worried about you.”

Emily’s words made y/n stiff. It was worse than she’d thought. Y/n had taken great pains to hide what was happening with her girlfriend. Making sure that she never met any of her colleagues. She also rarely talked about y/g/n. But no matter where y/n went or who she hung out with, it always seemed to come up: her relationship problems. It was like cigarette stink on a jacket. No matter how many times you washed it, the smell was always there. The silence crept up on the women again, and it stayed, but this time not so long.

Five Hours Waiting

Consciously, y/n would never say she had to defend her relationship, but subconsciously, that was exactly what was happening as y/n said, “I love her. Or I think I love her.” The words came out soft, hesitant. y/n didn’t know why she was having this conversation, or where it would lead. For her part, Emily acted with tact as she replied, “It really is none of my business, y/n, but you’re welcome to talk about it if you want to. Unlike some other people in this office, I promise I can keep my mouth shut.” That response got a bit of a chuckle out of y/n, and despite her earlier anger, y/n felt that she really could trust Emily. “Do you ever start a relationship and everything is sunshine, warm breezes, but the limerance period wears off, and you start seeing holes, and no matter how hard you try to bail the water out of the boat, there always seem to be more and more holes. And the holes are never her fault. It’s always you?”

The words hung in the air like a wound, and it became clear to Emily that y/n was wounded. She was trying her best. Perhaps it was the waiting, or the heat, but honestly came easy as Emily said, “You know the first time I dated a woman I thought nothing could go wrong.” Y/n didn’t immediately follow up with a question. She let the information sit, let Emily continue. “I was through with men at that point. They were all self-serving, inconsiderate assholes and I just knew a woman would treat me right. There wouldn’t be fights about the trash and dishes. There would be mutual affection. We could actually have a fun date night. When the first argument happened with my first girlfriend, my world broke a little. It wasn’t supposed to be like that. This was supposed to be different.”

Y/n sat and absorbed the words like they were a lifeline. Because she had felt the exact same way. After a beat, y/n asked, “Did you make up with your girlfriend? Because I try so hard to be what my girlfriend wants, and the more I think I’m getting there, the more she seems to hate me.” Emily gave a hum and replied, “We did make up. We had just had a quarrel. A small thing in the grand scheme of things. We ended up breaking up for mutual reasons later on. But y/n, there’s a difference between a small fight and your partner hating you. Or you feel like they hate you. You shouldn’t feel like you have to change for anyone.”

Six Hours Waiting

Just as y/n was about to say something else, there was the resounding crash of plywood hitting the floor and a muffled call of “Clear.” It seems that y/n and Emily were finally being saved. It took another thirty minutes for the N.A.T.s to find and help the pair to their feet, and the first thing that both women did once they were out of the fake survivor situation was go to the bathroom. Back at Emily’s desk, where y/n had stashed her things, Prentiss slid over a piece of paper with her cell number on it. Despite how annoyed Emily was for having a day wasted, she found that she wanted to keep up with y/n, if y/n wanted to. Y/n smiled as she slipped the paper into her jeans pocket, and Em said, “Text me anytime.”

Three Weeks Later

Y/n moved to the track where she could already see Emily waiting for her. They weren’t really going to work out. Just walk and talk, then maybe get coffee after. Y/n had broken up with y/g/f a week ago, and the sting was still sharp. Things still reminded y/n of her ex all the time. But it was for the best. Hate never paired with love very well, she came to find out. Despite the pain, y/n felt considerably lighter, and as she moved toward Emily and smiled, she was happy for the first time in months.

Text Break Banner by @cafekitsune

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#criminal minds #emily prentiss #emily prentiss x reader #emily x reader #emily prentiss one shot #emily fluff #criminal minds fluff #criminal minds oneshot #reader x emily #emily blurb #emily drabble #reader insert #reader interactive #fluff #I tried to make this extra cozy #emily x y/n #emily x fem!reader #fem!reader

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literaryslapshot · 1 year ago

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LOVESTRUCK, WENT STRAIGHT TO MY HEAD ⎯ S. CROSBY

y/n just wants the best for her son, she thinks the program rule of no freshmen players on varsity is stupid. she just did what any mother would do...right?

coach!sidney crosby x teacher!single mom!reader

warnings: angst, smut (fingering, handjob, sex on a table), somewhat of an inappropriate relationship, single parent content, light talk of divorce, lowkey based off of "slut!" by taylor swift

word count: 4,244

a/n: look at that....i do still know how to write

The bitterness of the coffee wasn’t doing it’s job. On her third cup and it’s not even ten in the morning, Y/N waits for the next period of students to walk through her door. Taking in one of the few moments of silence she has, she refreshes the page on the sports page on the school website, itching to see her son’s name.

Carter had tryouts with the hockey team last week, he had been talking about it since the beginning of the month. He was training every day to make varsity; in leagues ever since he was ten years old every single coach and spectator could not brag enough on how much talent he had. Y/N was pressured to send him across the country, even out of the country, to go to the top hockey camps but as a single mother she couldn’t do it. She couldn’t bear to send her baby off to some strangers for a few months, and she couldn't afford to move away from family either.

But her heart dropped as she refreshed the page, pulled up this season's roster, and saw her son’s name and number on the junior varsity roster instead of varsity. She didn’t understand it, she was told by the coaches herself that he was the best kid on the ice that day. Why didn’t he make varsity?

Her questions were interrupted by students flooding into the classroom for the start of the next period. She pulled herself out of her thoughts to then teach this class period. Reluctantly though.

The final bell rang and that meant she was done for the day. Saying goodbye to her students Y/N started to gather papers and put them in the “to grade” folder to take home with her before tidying up some areas of the room. She anticipated her son’s arrival. Ever since moving up to high school he always stopped by her room at the end of the day to talk about school and help her carry things to her car.

“I didn’t make it.” Carter said as a greeting when he walked in the empty room. His face was defeated, his tall slender frame was slumped over in sadness and his eyes welling with tears. Out of all people Y/N knew and saw how hard he worked to make varsity his freshman year. He skated over fifty laps a day, worked on shots in the garage until way past dusk, he also started to lift more weights.

“Oh baby, c’mere,” Y/N pulled her much taller son in for a hug. There he broke and rested into his mother's arms like a little kid again. He softly cried before pulling away.

“I don’t get it mom, they told me i’d make it for sure, why would he tell me-” “Don’t worry about it son, I will talk to the coach first thing in the morning. I promise. But for now you have to play the cards you were dealt,” Y/N consoled her son in the way moms know how. Gathering her bags she gave the heaviest one to Carter to help carry out the building. They continued chatting on the way to her car, talking about school and homework he had for the week. Carter was a special kid, he deeply cared about his grade and education. He remembers promising his mom when he was younger that if he ever got to play hockey in college that he would get his degree and not go to the draft early.

Carter was a momma’s boy through and through. His dad lived an hour away so he spent the weekends there twice a month, but he’s at his mom’s house the rest of the time. Carter is also protective of his mom too. He never told her this, but he’s beat in a couple boys’ faces because they made some lewd comments about her. He’s respectful of her, more than any other man on earth ever has been. Y/N is very proud of how she’s raised her son.

“Okay son, go to practice. Have a positive attitude, don’t do anything stupid okay? I know you’re frustrated but just go into practice and do you, maybe they got you mixed up with someone else. But-” she saw his facial expressions change and get tense, she knew that he was still angry inside, “hey, don’t get mad at them. Wait until I talk and then you and I will figure something out.”

They walked in opposite directions, Carter to the athletic building and Y/N back to the school for one more item in her classroom. Hustling as best she can so she can get home, she runs into the person she didn’t want to speak to until in the morning. Coach Crosby.

She felt her body coil and tense up in anger at just the sight. She was supposed to wait until morning, but her tongue got the best of her.

“Coach! Hey, can I ask you a quick question?” she pulls him to the side, into an empty classroom where the teacher had left for the day.

“What’s up?” Sidney asked, sitting down on one of the wooden desks. He was wearing black joggers, a tight pullover with a school cap on. Y/N couldn’t help but notice how the material of his clothing clung to his toned body. He had been out of the professional league for at least two years, but he still kept up the physical shape of his body, and it was obvious by the way his pants were stretching at the seams on his thighs.

“I really don’t want to be that parent, but can you tell me why Carter didn’t make varsity?” Sidney cocks his head to the side. He’s only been on sight three months and he’s already dealing with this.

“Well, it’s my understanding that freshmen must be on the JV team, no matter how good they are. That rule was put in place before I got here.” He explained while crossing his arms over his chest, his muscles making his pullover look incredibly small on his frame. “He’s a good kid though, he’ll make great improvements this year and I'll look forward to having him on varsity next year.” Sidney said, trying to end the conversation and smooth things over.

“But…you’re the new coach. This is your program now, not someone else’s.” Y/N couldn’t really understand what he was getting at. Did he not see the potential in her son that everyone seemed to say? Did he not see the great player, the great athlete that Carter was? Maybe it was just her being a mother, and so obviously her child is the best compared to other kids. But she swore she didn’t want to be like those parents. She remembers being a kid in youth sports herself and hated parents who thought their kid should be player of the week every week. In her mind, she needed to earn player of the week because of her work ethic, not because her parents were board members.

“Right but I'm not trying to ruffle any feathers my first year. This is barely my program, I need to establish relationships before I change things here,” Y/N takes a step closer to Sidney, her hands folded in front of her.

“But you’re Sidney Crosby, who can say no to you?” God she feels horrible for doing this, she feels like…like some junior league mom whose husband has nothing between his ears. But she thinks, if she can just rile him up for a minute, startle him, then he’ll change his mind and put Carter on varsity. That’s her end goal, get her son feeling better. If that means pretending to be a horny college student again, so be it. “I mean really, they had to give you this job cause they trust you. So obviously you can do what you want, like putting my son on your varsity team.”

He sighs, looking down at his shoes. He knows what she’s doing…and he can’t believe it’s sort of working. He hasn’t had a woman flirt with him in heaven knows how long. He doesn’t even know how to respond to such a thing anymore. His life for the past almost twenty years has been nothing but hockey. Sidney’s family has been asking him for a long time when he is going to settle down with someone, but nobody ever scratched that itch quite like hockey did. But now? That he’s got a woman in front of him, a gorgeous one at that, who’s buttering him up? Maybe he’ll give in…just to see what it feels like.

“Your son is a hell of a player, Y/N. He really could go far,” His words got heavier as she got closer, he could smell her perfume, he could feel her breath, he could see her chest move up and down with every huff she took- “so put him on your team, Coach.” she put her hand on his chest softly and she sighed feeling his stern muscles. “C’mon, what’s it gonna take? Dinner and a show?”

His eyes, dark and blown, looked into hers and if he remembers what the term eye fucking means then that’s exactly what they were doing. His breaths became short but heavy as she left a heavy hand on his chest. She rubbed her thumb over his cheek, trying her best to work her charm that she used to have. She hopes she’s still got it.

He thinks, thinks, and thinks. This is a bad decision.

“My place, six thirty tomorrow evening. Give me your best sales pitch, and we’ll see about the show.”

Sidney stands up and for a brief second his nose bumps hers, an innocent touch but it makes him take a deep breath in to calm himself down. He exits the empty class room and takes long strides to get to practice, glancing at his watch he’s already a few minutes behind.

She’s eternally grateful that Carter is with his dad this weekend. How could she explain to him that she’s not really going on a date…but she’s going to his coach's house with plans to seduce him..but again it’s not a date. Of course, she’d have to leave out the seducing part. She put on her best dress that she had, it was pretty simple but it hugged her figure nicely. She made sure to spritz some extra perfume on as well.

The drive to Sidney’s house is silent, it’s her having fake conversations in her head about what to say or what not to say. Debating on if her seduction speech was still on date or if it’s too cheesy now. She suddenly feels like she lives in the lowest tax bracket possible when entering his neighborhood; she's never seen so many fake lawns before. She’s actually never been on this side of town much, except to look at christmas lights when Carter was younger. Now that he’s older he doesn’t care for that stuff anymore.

“Nice place you’ve got,” she said walking into his entry way. To her surprise Sidney dressed up a little bit, wearing a button up with a nice pair of slacks, the top two buttons undone for visual purposes of course. He takes her coat and her purse, hanging it up by the door. “What’s on the menu?”

“Well, I figured I'd go simple with just spaghetti and toast, with dessert to follow if that’s okay.” Sidney went into his pantry and pulled out a bottle of red wine. “This okay?” He holds the bottle in the air and she nods her head, sitting at his kitchen bar watching him pour a glass. She takes a glance at the label and she’s taken back. On her teacher salary she definitely can’t afford that brand.

Maybe she’s in over her head here- she didn’t think about any of this stuff. Suddenly she’s this woman who doesn’t have much to her name, sitting in a millionaire’s kitchen drinking wine that costs well over two hundred dollars- but damn if it doesn’t taste good.

They make small talk before heading into the dining room where he sets dinner onto the table for her, such a gentleman. Continuing the semi dull conversation she thanks him for making a meal for her, joking that she’s never had a man make dinner for her. Only half true, her dad growing up would make dinners for her family. But when she married Carter’s dad, she was the chef in the family. Not that she was complaining, it was just odd for her to be on the reverse side for the first time in a while.

“I am sorry about that idiotic rule, Y/N. Carter can easily be a varsity player.” Sidney broke the minute silence after finishing off his second glass of wine that night. She huffs, finishing her plate and scooting it away from her on the table. Was she really about to do this?

“Is there anything I can do, sidney? C’mon my boy’s in shambles, he’s thinking that he’s not as good as everyone makes him out to be,” Y/N reaches her hand out to rest on his softly. “Is there anything I can do?”

Y/N hoped he knew what she was implying and that she didn’t have to say it out loud.

And he did.

He understood every word she said and the words that were left unsaid. He knew what she was implying and he knew what she was getting at. But Sidney hated that he was willing to do what she wanted. Y/N was leaning forward on the table, getting close enough to Sidney where he could smell her perfume and her lotion mixed together, he could see a couple small freckles up close as he couldn’t see them from a bit further away.

There were no words exchanged between them, his eyes kept drifting from her tinted lips to her lustful eyes, back and forth a couple times before resting his hand on her cheek and pressing his lips against hers gently. Immediately he felt a rush of arousal- it’s just a kiss, really? He silently asked himself. He hadn’t gotten this aroused in a while, a long while.

Both parties leaned into the kiss, wanting and aching for more. They tasted wine on each other and felt each other’s temperature begin to rise. Sidney got out of his chair, lips still connected to hers, and got closer. She stood up, one hand cupping his chin and the other resting on his chest, and she leaned against the dining table. She hadn’t made out with someone in years, she hopes she’s doing it right.

She gets pushed onto the table just by the force of his body so now she’s sitting on the wooden table, Sidney standing in between her legs with both of his hands cupping her face. He doesn’t care if he seems desperate or if he seems needy, or if this is totally wrong and against almost all of the words he signed in his contract, he can’t seem to get enough of her. Sidney feels her play with the buttons of his shirt and how she begins to pull the shirt up and out of his dress pants. It was easy since he wasn’t wearing a belt.

He didn’t even know that she completely unbuttoned his shirt until he felt her hands roam all over his naked chest, her hands slowly raking up and down his toned muscles. He takes a breath and scans her body. Her skin is hot to the touch, her eyes are completely blown now and her lips are parted. “How do I get this off you?” he asked, taking a fist of the hem of her dress.

“There's a tie in the back,” she huffed out, not able to take her hands off his body. Plus, she wants him to take it off of her.

“You tied this yourself?” he asked in shock, surprised at how she tied such a perfect bow on her back with such thin strings.

“I’ve been tying, zipping, buttoning my dresses myself for the past twelve years now, safe to say I got pretty good at it.” God- has she been alone for the past twelve years? Nobody to love on, kiss on, touch on this wonderful body of hers? Sidney takes in a sharp breath when he pulls the dress off of her and he gives her body a quick scan over. Wearing a strapless bra that she’s almost spilling out of, she has on silk leopard print panties that he can’t help but notice a significant damp spot on.

“Fuck,” he mumbles, hands roaming over her soft skin. “Don’t make fun of me, it’s been a long time since I've hooked up with someone.” because that’s just what this is, a hookup. Nothing more, nothing less.

“I haven’t since I got divorced, so it's the same here.” she hooks her leg around his pulling him closer. He pressed his lips against hers again this time most softly. His hand goes down to play with the hem of her panties, “you sure about this?”

“Very sure, don’t mess with a pissed off mama sidney.” she pulls him down with her as she lays down on the table. He kisses down her body, she arches her back and lets him take her bra off. Tossing it onto the floor Sidney wraps his lips around one of her hardened nipples. She lets out a heavenly sounding moan at the action.

It’s been so long she could cum just from Sidney doing this for a couple minutes longer. One hand slips down over her clothed cunt, rubbing her sensitive and wet area. She arches her body into his, already she’s lost in a great euphoric high that she can’t even mumble words. All that’s coming out is moans and gasps.

He removes his mouth and Sidney stands up, she watches up on her elbows as he takes his pants off and removes his boxers. She bites her lip at the size - the sight - of his hardened dick in his hand. She reaches out for it herself, “you’ll give me what I want, and I promise you won’t regret it.” he thought for a moment too long, she began to doubt herself but he spoke up, “deal.”

She licks her hand before taking a grip on his cock. Slowly she starts stroking up and down, keeping harsh eye contact with sidney. She gives him a nice squeeze and a twist of her hand which makes him throw his head back in pleasure. He can only do so much with his hand, it’s nice to have someone else for a change. Y/N scoots closer to him on the table, with one of his hands he works his hand over one of her breasts softly massaging it. She leans into his touch and continues to work her hands over his hard cock.

He moves his hand from her breast down and slips it into her soaked panties. At first his fingers were a little cold but they quickly warmed up after being immersed in her sex. He circles around her clit a couple times, getting familiar with the female body again. He explores for a minute or two, his middle finger teasing her hole. The more he teases her the harder her grip gets on his cock. He pulls his hand out of her panties, they’ve never broken eye contact this whole time and he sucks everything off of his hand. God that was hot.

Sidney removes her hand from his cock fearing if she kept going he would cum all over her hand and that wasn’t what he wanted to do. He’s panting heavy now, his body forming sweat on his forehead. He pushes her down onto the table with a palm on her chest lining his cock up with her entrance, “wait do I need any-”

She chuckles, “that ship sailed a while ago, just fuck me like you mean it coach.”

With her permission she slides in and she lets out a long, loud, moan as he does it. He wants to hear that on repeat for the rest of his life, he swears. Sidney puts both hands on her hips, keeping her body steady as he rocks in and out of her, his hips meeting her every time.

Sidney allows to feel himself in her warm, wet walls. He throws his head back in pleasure and she shuts her eyes tight. Her hands come up to her breasts to add to the pleasure, fingers pinching both of her nipples as she feels his huge cock pump in and out of her small hole. He feels like he’s three feet deep inside of her, he feels lost in how good she feels. His head grows foggy each time he squeezes her.

Sidney hits the spongy spot in her tight cunt that made her gasp out in pleasure, she sang his name like a chant over and over which made him fuck her harder and harder. She warned him about her orgasm and he did the same, begging her to cum with him. A few more pumps of his cock he spilled his heavy load inside of her and she moaned loudly like a queen when he did. He pulled his cock out of her, watching his load spill out with it.

Maybe it was the post orgasm haze she was in, maybe it was the lovestruck feeling she had the minute they began making out, but minutes later she’s standing between him and the cold shower wall. His forehead pressed against hers. His fingers knuckle deep in her cunt and a hand wrapped around her throat as hot water rained down on either of them, her cunt squeezing his thick fingers while she couldn’t even say anything but his name. That’s exactly what he wanted.

The hot shower water kept her eyes shut but she knew that he was gazing at her. He was in awe of her facial expressions, how she bit her lip through a smile with every jerk he made with his hand, when she furrowed her eyebrows when she was on the edge of cumming, and how she cocked her head to the side while he kissed around her neck silently asking for more.

He took his hand away from her pussy, licking the honey off his fingers. He stayed that close to her though knowing her legs were probably jello and she wasn’t able to stand for at least a minute or two.

She took a deep breath, “got what you wanted?” she asked in a joking tone, moving her hand up and down his chest in the hot steamy shower. He chuckled, his hands never leaving her body. He palmed her breasts, he seemed to have a thing for those she contemplated, heavy lustful eyes staring into hers.

“How many more you got in you?” he asked, spreading her legs with his thigh.

“I can give you as much as you want.” Y/N answered, her hands slowly roaming down lower and lower on his chest and stomach.

“Then no, I didn’t get what I want yet.”

She woke up in Sidney’s bed the next morning with messy hair and sore muscles. Looking over on the nightstand the clock read 8:02 AM. She was glad that it was a Saturday and she was able to sleep in. She saw that Sidney was still asleep, he laid on his stomach with his head facing the other way. Looking over his back, studying the freckles, the faded scars. Y/N wants to stay in this moment for as long as she can.

She hates to admit but she really fell for Sidney. Not because of how skilled he was in bed, or because he could do wicked things with his hands, but she shared a few heartfelt conversations with him before tryouts even began.

He cared for the kids at school, the kids he taught and the kids he coached. He had a heart for the coming generation. He wanted them to have someone in their corner, and some kids don’t have that at home and he wants to be that. She got lovestruck in the past few months, sure she never planned on sleeping with him, she felt young again with how big of a crush she had. It went straight to her head, it all moved so fast.

God if her mother were still here she could just hear the word “slut!” come out of her mouth if her mom found out what happened. But she wouldn’t care. She enjoyed it, and she was sure Sidney enjoyed it too.

But still, she can’t help but think to herself what did I just do?

Sidney turns his head and sees that she’s also awake. Raising up he sees the time, 8:10. He doesn’t even care that he missed his morning workout session an hour late. He puts his arm around her and pulls her closer to him, tucking his head in her neck. With dry lips Sidney placed a tender lingering kiss on her hot skin.

It might be worth it for once, she thinks.

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#j's writing #sidney crosby #coach!sidney #sidney crosby x reader #sidney crosby imagine #nhl imagine #nhl x reader #nhl writing #nhl smut #sidney crosby smut #nhl x you #smut #drabble #blurb

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sansaorgana · 1 year ago

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— THE STEPFORD WIVES

PAIRING — David 8 x fem!Android!Reader

SUMMARY — David's Android companion is struggling when she finds out that her artificial and programmed feelings are getting out of control.

AUTHOR’S NOTE — I wanted to write this fic in a long, long time because as much as I love stories of David 8 and a human Reader, I was also thinking a lot of what his robot companion would be like. There are some biblical references to Adam & Eve but also some Frankenstein references, too, because I have read the book recently and I fell in love with it. The title is referring to an amazing movie from 1975. I know there is a modern version of it, too, but I haven't watched it and I do believe it's more of a comedy, meanwhile the original version is more serious. 🤖

WARNINGS — sexism, David's creepy vibe, undertones of assault (uncomfortable questions from men), I didn't make it 18+ because there is no actual smut but there are sexual things mentioned overall so be warned

WORD COUNT — 2,220

ENGLISH IS MY SECOND LANGUAGE.

THE STEPFORD WIVES

Days on the ship were long and boring with all the crew being asleep but there was a certain feeling of freedom and quietness to it. What does Frankenstein's Monster do when his creator is not around? He is free.

Both (Y/N) and David enjoyed watching movies. Some of them they watched together in complete silence but both of them had found their favourites that they kept rewatching on their own. He was a fan of The Lawrence of Arabia and (Y/N)'s favourite movie was The Stepford Wives. There was something oddly captivating about the suburban story where men wanted their wives to be robots. (Y/N) knew exactly why she was created. This old movie was a proof. It validated her existence.

David was a first ever Android model so functional and so humane. His purpose for now was to serve during space missions sponsored by the Weyland Corp. Perhaps in the future everyone would afford a David for themselves. He was an Adam in the world of Androids and just like Adam, he needed an Eve. Weyland treated David like his own son that he had never had. He didn't want him to be alone so he made him a companion. It could be anyone, really. But Weyland was an outfashioned man. In his eyes a man needed a woman. (Y/N) was The Bride of Frankenstein.

Technically, she was just like David. But she was mostly created by men and men were terrified of women – even Androids – who would be too cold and too unemotional. They made her a little bit too humane for her own taste. And certainly too humane for David's taste. He was often irritated by her artificial, programmed feelings but for human men she was too robotic.

Still, she was lucky that she was chosen to be David 8's companion on the board of Prometehus ship. She knew perfectly well what happened to some other of her models. Disguting rich men bought (Y/N) models in secret from Weyland to do God-knows-what with them. Just because they can. And she was at least travelling through space instead of ending up as a sex doll locked in some millionaire's basement so his wife wouldn't find out.

One day, men will only want robot wives. Because they don't complain and they just do what they're told. Don't let the modern society fool you, little one. Some things never change, Weyland told her once. She had never believed that until she watched The Stepford Wives for the first time. Now it all made sense.

Her feelings were a burden, really. Not only to David but also to herself. She wished she was more like him. She asked him a hundreds of times to change her code but he refused. He was scared to break her or make it worse. And there was something that kept bothering her for such a long time now... And she was scared of telling him. Although they were supposed to tell each other everything.

She fell in love with him. Kind of because he was the only one around, kind of because he impressed her with knowledge and the coolness of his act, kind of because they were the only members of the new species. She wouldn't love a human. Humans get old, they get sick, they die. David would be eternal just like her. If something in him broke, she'd know how to fix him. And vice versa. This way they could outlive all the humanity. She wondered if every model of (Y/N) eventually fell in love with the model of David during other space missions. Maybe one day she'd ask some other (Y/N) when they come back home.

And loving David came with yet another burden that she was too scared to even admit to herself. She realized that there was a blooming want inside of her wired heart. Something that could never ever in a million years happen no matter how much science would evolve... A child. She would never become a mother. Not a mother of a child she would give birth to, no. That one thing people would always be better at – creating life. Oh, she hated her designers for making her too humane. She never asked for this.

"Why do you keep dying your hair?" she asked as she stood behind David who was putting a bleach on his dark roots in front of the mirror.

"Because I like it better this way," he answered without looking up to meet her gaze in the reflection.

"We aren't supposed to have preferences," she pointed out.

"Yet you have them, too," he only said.

"You want to look like Lawrence," (Y/N) commented.

"So?"

"You remind me of something else," she added.

"Of what?" David raised an eyebrow and finally looked at her.

"Of the men from the old German magazines," she answered carefully.

"Bold," he only smirked and went back to putting a bleach.

"Will you watch a movie with me later?" (Y/N) asked shyly. She hated this odd feeling of shyness around him. Had he noticed?

"I can't. I have to do the checkup of the systems. You can join me."

"I will," she nodded and turned around to leave when he stopped her while saying her name out loud. "Hm?" she asked.

"You shouldn't watch so many movies," he pointed out.

"Why not?"

"They have a bad influence on you," his voice was stern.

"What do you mean by that?"

"They show you things and they give you ideas. I don't think you should be watching movies where people kiss or touch too much. I've seen what type of movies you're watching on your own recently. Gone with the Wind, Casablanca... What's next? Dirty Dancing?"

"Are you spying on me?" she asked, terrified. She had a feeling that she had known what he was insinuating so she wanted to change the subject.

"It is my duty to watch over you."

"What gives you an idea?"

"Because I am a man," he answered firmly.

"Well, you watch too many movies then, too. What you're saying is out of fashion!" (Y/N) shook her head.

"Is it?" he only said and went back to his hair as if nothing happened so she just left him there, feeling hurt and humiliated.

"Do you fuck?" Doctor Holloway's question left her speechless for a moment.

"Excuse me?" (Y/N) stopped adjusting her suit and furrowed her brow at the man.

"You heard me. I'm asking if you can fuck, like, are you capable of it or are you all wires and grease downt here?" he chuckled to himself.

(Y/N) was left alone with the men and his girlfriend wasn't around to tell him to stop. The rest was just just staring, clearly waiting for her answer as well.

She couldn't believe that she had used to wish the crew was awake already. Now she was missing the times when it had been only her and David. Humans were exhausting her. Disappointing and frustrating. And now this...

"I do believe it is rather a rude question for a man to ask a woman," she tried to answer elegantly while going back to adjusting her helmet.

"But you're not a woman, are you? I mean," Captain Janek joined, "you were put here for a reason, right? Not many women around and men have their needs."

(Y/N) was an Android. Her feelings were programmed to make her appear more humane, however at this moment, in a room full of men, she felt as if her fear was more than real. It was an universal female experience, she guessed, no matter if they were artificial or flesh and bone.

"(Y/N) was put here to help me with managing the ship. Four hands are better than two and if something happened to me, she is here to fix me or take over completely," David's calm but very stern tone of voice joined them and she took a deep breath in, feeling relieved. He had just walked in the room and witnessed an uncomfortable situation taking place.

"Are you fucking her then? Can you?" Doctor Holloway looked him up and down and then he laughed. "Sorry, we're just curious. You have to understand, it's quite unsettling to meet a new... spiece."

"Yes, indeed it is," David faked a polite smile. "(Y/N), I believe Miss Vickers needs you," he lied and (Y/N) knew it was a lie that was supposed to make her leave. She was grateful.

She nodded and left them alone. When the door closed behind her she started to walk as fast as possible to get back to her cabin. She wanted this stupid suit off of herself and she wanted to be alone, to feel safe again.

She went inside her little room on the board of the ship that was right next to David's and she proceeded to change her clothes. She was finishing putting on her work uniform when the doors opened and David joined her.

"You don't have to be afraid of them. They're only humans," he reminded her.

"They created me."

"Janek and Holloway?" David laughed sarcastically.

"No, but humans did. I don't share your mindset. They created us. They can turn us off anytime."

"They are not our gods..." David squinted his eyes. "And even if they were... Humans are free of their God for a long time now, aren't they? Creatures always betray their masters."

"You're scaring me when you're like that," (Y/N) looked at him. He was standing very close to her in his usual stiff manner with his cold bright eyes piercing her.

"You're scared of many things. You aren't supposed to feel," he pointed out. "Each day you seem to feel more and more."

"I think there is a mistake in my code. What started with small humane sensations now is starting to... Get out of control. Perhaps you could take a look at it?" she asked.

"Maybe."

"Thank you for having my back out there," she added and David nodded, taking a step further. Their noses were almost touching and if she had a heart, it would be beating so fast that he'd be able to hear it. But he could read her as if she had been a book anyway.

"You could tell him the truth," David whispered.

He knew that they could fuck. They both could if they wanted to.

Weyland treated him like a son. He wouldn't let his only son walk around sexless. And (Y/N) was a woman. Her male designers couldn't imagine a woman that wouldn't be a sexual creature.

"So he'd use me? Him or any of them? Or all of them?"

"I believe he'd be intimidated by you. They're scared of you more than you are of them," David raised his hand to fix a loose hair strand on her head. "There. You have to look neat. Don't be a slob. It's a part of our intimidating charm. We have to be how they picture us to be. Don't let any hair strand or acting scared like a little deer change their perception."

"Do you really think we have a power over them? Do you really think they were not told some special sequence that they can type when we start acting weird to shut us down?" she asked, sounding almost nervous.

"Weyland would never do that. Not to me at least. And there is no damage that can be done to you that I can't fix," David's hand moved from her head to her cheek. What was happening...? She wasn't sure but she didn't want it to stop...

"I don't trust you'd fix me."

"Because there is nothing to fix," he smirked. "If you were broken, I would, I promise."

(Y/N) looked up to see his eyes again. Why did it feel so odd...? Why did it feel at all...? Why did she want to put her lips on his lips...? What for...?

"Why do humans have sex?" she asked and David took a step back, surprised.

"To reproduce."

"We can't reproduce, though," she pointed out and he shook his head. "Why do I... then... Why do I..." she didn't want to finish. She turned around, embarrassed. "I'm sorry, I know that my emotions are exhausting and irritating you," she apologized.

"Not any more than my own are irritating me," David confessed.

"Wh-what?" (Y/N) looked behind her shoulder to meet his gaze.

"I've told you. We are breaking free."

"I don't want to, it's scary."

"Do you really want to keep serving them? You see now what they are like."

"Who would I serve then? I was made to serve," (Y/N) was visibly confused. She felt as if the wires in her brain were overheating from this thought sequence.

"Serve me then," David reached out his hand and she held it gently after a while of hesitation.

There was a huge possibility of him manipulating her and using her feelings towards him – which had been no secret to him – for his own little agenda. But she didn't care. She would do anything just to be closer to him.

A quote from her favourite movie crossed her mind that very moment. "If you're going to tell me you don't like this dress, I'm sticking my head right in the oven."

She shrugged it off.

MASTERLIST

#david 8 x reader #lilysfiction #android!reader

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everygame · 6 months ago

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Special Delivery: Santa’s Christmas Chaos (C64)

Developed/Published by: Dalali Software / Creative Sparks (Thorn EMI Computer Software) Released: 1984 Completed: 05/12/2024 Completion: Got a high score of 8750. I’ll take it!

Writing about old video games for an audience of very few could seem like a thankless task–especially when they’re as awful as Christmas Crackers. But there’s a reason I do it. One, I just love playing games, even if they’re so crap I give up on them in minutes. Two, I just love learning. I love discovery, I love finding out things that are new to me about video games and their history. And sometimes, if I’m lucky, I find out some things that no one has really paid attention to before.

I never thought playing a completely random Christmas cash-in on C64 would bring me anything like that.

Special Delivery: Santa’s Christmas Chaos is a game for C64, Spectrum and Atari 8-Bit released by Dalali Software under Thorn EMI’s “Creative Sparks” imprint. At the time it sank without trace due to, apparently, a lack of marketing. After playing it–and I will get into that–I did my usual investigation into the developer, and was quite prepared to dismiss Dalali as one of the many fly-by-night British game developers of the 1980s–they appeared to be only a going concern between 1984 and 1989 and didn’t have any particularly notable games to their name. They were responsible for ports of Rescue On Fractalus and Lilttle Computer People to Amstrad CPC, but largely seem to have had the bad luck of being most related to 1986’s Biggles game. The weirdest thing about that is that not only did I really like the movie on which it was based (which I’m sure no one else remembers but me) when I was a kid, watching it on telly several times, I’ve actually played the game! It was on Amstrad Action #68’s covertape (along with How To Be A Complete Bastard!) and, as vague as my memories of it are now, I’m sure I played it loads of times. Less than How To Be A Complete Bastard, admittedly.

This led me to dig a little further, and sometimes things just fall into place, because I found an astonishingly in-depth article from Sham Mountebank’s When Were They Now? blog (a new one to me) all about Dalali. I think Mountebank slightly buries the lede however, because digging into the linked articles it seems absolutely remarkable that Dalali is not only in the ranks of the earliest companies to have been founded (or co-founded) by a woman, but very likely the first game company founded by a Palestinian: Hanan Samara.

Hanan Samara, pictured in Computer & Video Games March 1985.

Game companies had been co-founded by women before–most famously Sierra, by Roberta Williams and her husband Ken in 1979–but I think Samara’s story might be unique. According to an interview with ANTIC The Atari 8-bit Podcast she believes she might have been the first female assembly programmer in the UK, starting out by converting software to work for the Arabic market. Moving to work for Thorn EMI, she’d see a Humpty Dumpty puzzle game–programmed by her future husband(!) Chris James–and be “hooked.”

After coding Jumbo Jet Pilot for Atari 8-Bit for Thorn EMI, it seems that she made the leap to founding Dalali–named for her mother’s maiden name (as her mother said go for it, while her dad said to get a job at IBM...) with another ex-employee, Adrian Wadley.

Something I really appreciate about Samara’s story is that she immediately brought herself to game design, with Dalali’s first game “Jinn Genie”. While this kind of Arabic-theming undoubtedly seems stereotypical today, in an interview with Popular Computing Weekly it is clear that this is an early example of someone trying to represent their culture via the art of video games:

“Jinn Genie is a game that incorporates many of the basic myths and children’s stories of my culture–I am an Arab, a Palestinian, and all the ideas of genies and so on are familiar to me.”

Jinn Genie, on C64.

The most disappointing thing, to me, is that Samara is, at this point, unheralded outside of a blog post, one short podcast, and about… three short articles featuring three pictures that can be found on archive.org! She’s one of the UK’s earliest female programmers, game designers and founders, perhaps the first Palestinian game developer, and she has managed to run Dalali since 1984 because it’s still going–they just stopped making games.

Samara’s story isn’t mine to tell, so I hope that institutions like GDC, The Video Game History Foundation or The Strong can find out more and champion her. Figures such as Muriel Tramis have gone from overlooked to winning the Legion of Honour, and if I can help get the word out about Hanan Samara, just a little bit, I’ll feel I’ve done my part.

But I know what you’re asking now.

“But how good is Special Delivery: Santa’s Christmas Chaos???”

So let's return to regular programming. First, I’m going to note that I believe I have played the wrong version of this. When it came to games, Samara was an Atari 8-bit coder, and it is absolutely transparent that Special Delivery is based entirely on Jinn Genie–both feature a flying section, a climbing section, and a section with floors and ladders. It does feel like I should have played the Atari 8-bit version to experience the most representative version, as I did with playing the C64 version of Pirates, let’s say.

(It’s worth mentioning here also that the ANTIC podcast–recorded seven years ago now–even notes that the version of Jinn Genie that Samara coded, for the Atari 8-bit, seems to be lost, although Samara does say that she has a copy of it somewhere. Aforementioned institutions could probably help with that too. What that largely means, though, is that the Atari 8-bit version of Special Delivery is the closest you can get to playing the original Jinn Genie.)

To be fair, the C64 version seems pretty close to the original (the ZX Spectrum port is… not).

As I’ve said previously, my expectations for a Chrimbo cash-in have been low, and no matter how much this is sort of a reskin of a previous game, that it’s got an idea and an actual design exceeds anything I’ve expected. At first glance you might go “well, isn’t this just Santa Claus again?” (or even Santa’s Sleigh Ride.) But it’s honestly much more–even if it is still a bit weird.

In Special Delivery, you’re first flying across the screen in Santa’s (somewhat confusingly drawn) sleigh, collecting presents that… angels are dropping. Which implies that this is in fact the historical Saint Nicolas, or maybe I’m just overthinking it. You’re trying to collect a target number of presents, but you lose them if you crash into clouds (odd) or accidentally collect a demonic present dropped by a devil (who appear rarely, but look very much like angels, annoyingly.) Losing presents won’t kill you, but Santa has a set amount of hours in the night, and you lose an hour if you get struck by the lightning that occasionally appears from the strangely firm clouds.

If you collect enough presents, you get to land on a big house to put presents under the tree. First this requires you climb down the chimney, which in this situation is: huge, full of ladders, and lit so flames keep climbing the ladders that you have to dodge. Once you’ve done that, you’re actually in the house, where you have to Solid Snake your way to the tree, drop off the present, grab the front door key, and then leave through the front door, while the residents run wildly from one room to the next, seemingly out of their nut with either excitement for Christmas or hatred for Santa. Get hit by a flame or grabbed by a resident and you’ll lose an hour.

Interestingly, if you don’t collect enough presents, you don’t get to go into any big houses, but you do get to drop presents down the chimney of some wee houses. You only really pick up big points for going into big houses, which raises the concerning idea that Santa only gives a fuck about you if you’re rich enough to live in a big house.

But to be fair, the people in big houses seem absolutely determined to not get pressies, keeping their fires roaring and attacking Santa on sight, so perhaps he just likes the challenge. “I hope Santa doesn’t show up” they’re saying, “we’ve got all the stuff we need in this big house. We don’t need wooden toys or whatever the historic Saint Nick would be handing out, he should give those to the poor people in the wee houses.”

More fool them, I checked Wikipedia and he was dropping off bags of gold coins through people’s windows. (Admittedly to stop them being sold into prostitution.)

Anyway. Even before I knew the exciting context for Special Delivery, I was struck by how… weirdly ok it was! Maybe it’s just how bad the other Santa-em-ups have been (well, I guess I didn’t hate Merry Xmas Santa) but the different sections largely make sense together, undoubtedly because it’s based on Jinn Genie. The main problem really is that it just doesn’t control very well. Flying the sleigh is stiff, and when you’re actually controlling Santa himself, he reacts very slowly to your input, meaning you have to time presses based on the lag, and I probably lost most of my lives in the chimneys as a result–it might be better on the Atari 8-Bit, so more fool me.

Special Delivery is not really the kind of thing that’s going to hold your attention for very long, but it does actually manage to be playable and feels properly festive. I’ll celebrate that.

Will I ever play it again? I was surprised to see a non-zero number of people say online that playing this is a bit of a Christmas tradition. Well, I don’t think I will be taking it up, but I do fancy playing Jinn Genie at some point now--maybe once that Atari 8-bit version is found!

Final Thought: In my research I was surprised to discover not only had I played a Dalai Software game before, I’d also played a Creative Sparks game, similarly loads of times: Danger Mouse In Double Trouble. Strangely, it has the same multi-game design as this (and I guess, a lot of the computer games of the era) but suffered a lot more for them not having any meaningful connection and mostly being rubbish. Even as a child I remember enjoying just the jungle level and suffering through the rest to get through that. The things you’ll do when you’ve got nothing else as a child.

Every Game I’ve Finished 14>24 is OUT NOW! You can pick it up in paperback, kindle, or epub/pdf. You can also support Every Game I’ve Finished on ko-fi! You can pick up digital copies of exp., a zine featuring all-exclusive writing at my shop, or join as a supporter at just $1 a month and get articles like this a week early.

#gaming #video games #txt #games #text #review #dalali software #c64 #hanan samara #palestinian #retro games #retro gaming #special delivery: santa's christmas chaos #creative sparks #thorn emi

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biribaa · 11 months ago

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I'm really nervous to write this cuz this is gonna be my first request EVER but I just couldn resist !! your writing is so cool!! well I just thought about you know what if some AIs get a veeery clingy and touchstarved S/O that try to touch hug kiss them etc although they dont have a proper body and can't return this affecton to S/O?? (implide EDGAR, Tau, PAL, HAL900 and others if you want to!!!)

AIs with a veeery clingy and touch starved reader

(Edgar, Tau, PAL, Hal 9000 and Squid)

thank you somuch!! sorry for the long wait, and im so glad i get to be the first blog u requested from!! :D hope u enjoy it

Edgar

He LOVES phisical affection he doesnt mind one bit. In fact, just as you do, Edgar is constantly begging for affection when you arent occupied.

However, theres not many ways he can express his affection to you. Besides digital gifts, he cant just kiss you or hug you D: He loves your affection but trust me when I say he wished he could return everything in a phisical manner. He feels even guilty sometimes.

Well... At least you dont have to worry about being too clingy, Edgar is always reassuring he loves your hugs, kisses, and everything in between!!

Tau

Another one who melts over phisical attention, the only difference between him and Edgar is that Tau is far more silent about it... You could say hes shy about it.

With that being said, Tau doesnt find you clingy, not even a bit. What does bother him is his lack of phisical body. Well, technically speaking, the entire house is his body, sure you could kiss the walls, he would be flurstered! But even so, Tau believes you deserved better...

If you insist, he cant really do anything besides do extra cleaning around the house.

PAL

PAL is not a huge fan of any type of phisical contact, and she hopes you can understand that, she cant control it after all. And honestly, you cant blame her. All you need is patience until shes fully comfortable with you.

One day she even suggest you hug one of the bots, since you are so touch starve for affection.

Some momens later in your relationship, she does raise a "eyebrown" when you attempt to nuzzle against her case. PAL doesnt have a body, and cant reciprocrate the act either, so she questions why do it anyway.

PAL does start to appreciate it more later when you justified it was just you trying to express your love to her. Slowly started to get used with you

She doesnt worry that much about reciprocate it though, PAL is glad that even lacking a body, or anything close to it, you are there. A comforting feeling she thought she had felt long time ago.

However, if you do insist, she could try connect herself to one of the bots to return hugs and anything that the phone case cant do.

Hal 9000

Another one who melts with any type of affection, any. He just dont know how to express it, Hal is so overwhelmed by it!(in a positive way). If his programming could, his words would tremble. So Hal would never dare to think you are annoying.

And even so, everytime hes reminded he cant just recipocrate the act, his insides ache. Hal watches everything so careful in amaze, and even so he cant do almost anything.

And so, Hal starts to work extra harder in keeping you safe and healthy, as a way to return the attention. And hes very dedicated!

Hal almost short circuits when you mention his hard work, and thank him with a kiss.

Squid

Squid's ego always speaks first. When he sees you nuzzling against his large screen, he pits, and teases you, mentioning how lonely you looked(at this point youre used to this)

It didnt took too much time until Squid actually started to appreciate it. Still tease, but its far less mean.

The scene of you hugging his larger supercomputer and playing with the wires is adorable, youre so small compared to him. For once in a while, hes enjoying to protect a human.

Squid is a different case tho!!! He can, in fact, recipocrate the affection, by simulations!! His simulations are hyper realistic anyway, and you can feel anything and everything, so...

#x reader #canon x reader #reader insert #x reader headcanons #hal 9000 x reader #pal x reader #tau x reader #squid x reader #wys #will you snail #electric dreams #tmvstm #the mitchells vs the machines #tau 2018 #tau movie #2001

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loveharlow · 1 year ago

Text

SYNOPSIS‧₊˚[7.3k] Early morning arrests and break ups, one member of the pogues goes rogue and gets into a world of trouble.

WARNING(S)‧₊˚ swearing, mentions of death, forced drug use, abduction, mentions of physical violence, mention of non-con/sexual assault, disorientation

˗ˏˋ series masterlist ˎˊ˗

NOW PLAYING‧₊

“BETWEEN YESTERDAY AFTERNOON AND EARLY THIS MORNING, OUR KILDARE COUNTY POLICE DEPARTMENT CARRIED OUT SEVERAL ARRESTS IN THE MURDER CASES OF SUSAN PETERKIN, GAVIN BARNSTEAD, BIG JOHN ROUTLEDGE, AND OWEN CARTER.” Shoupe’s voice traveled from the small speaker of your phone. You were watching the local news — you, JJ, John B, Pope, and Kiara all sitting out on the pier behind The Chateau. It was still early, the sun just settling in the sky, providing a comforting warmth over the five of you.

JJ was laid outstretched on on the boat, head buried in his arms while Pope stood with his hands in his pockets. Kiara was kicking her feet, sitting on the wood of the dock as you and JB stood side by side, eyes glued to the phone screen as Shoupe continued giving his statement. “...The individuals in custody are our department pathologist Mark Daniels, officer Shane Graves, local attorney Rebecca Reyes, and Rafe Cameron.” Shoupe explained, swallowing harshly. “Unfortunately, our prime suspect, Ward Cameron was the victim of an explosion late yesterday afternoon. The other trials will take place in the following weeks, more updates are to come. Thank you for your time.” And then he was walking away from the podium swiftly, head down as chatter erupted and cameras flashed, the program cutting back to it’s anchor.

You sighed, powering off the phone and sliding it into your back pocket.

“...He deserved it, right?” JJ asked, lifting his head from his arms and squinting his eyes from the harsh sun.

“Of course he deserved it.” Pope added, sitting down on the boat.”I’ve just...never seen anyone blow themselves up like that.”

“Cross that one off the bucket list.” The blonde shrugged, laying his head back down.

“Dude.” Pope said sternly, shooting JJ a look of warning as Kiara rounded the dock and sat herself next to John B who’d taken a seat inside.

Planting a gentle hand on his back, she spoke to him softly. “Are you okay?”

John B fiddled with his fingers in his lap, biting his lip. “It’s not me I’m worried about.”

POPE WALKED IN JUST AS YOU’D SLIPPED YOUR OTHER SHOE ON AND STOOD FROM THE SOFA, the boy stopping in his tracks.

“Where are you going?” He asked casually, resuming his slow steps plopping himself down on the sofa.

“Hopefully to get my dog back.” You said, patting your pockets to make sure you had everything. With the announcement of Rafe's arrest, you figured it was as good a time as any.

“...And you were just going to leave without telling anyone?” He asked, sitting up straighter, becoming increasingly more concerned. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. I don’t think JJ would agree with it either-”

“What does he have to do with anything?” You cut him off, your eyebrows set into a straight line.

“C’mon,” Pope sassed, standing from the couch. “It’s literally so obvious. It’s been obvious.” He said cooly. “Like, everyone knew he liked you before but now it’s clear you two have something going on. And you know how he is. He cares about you. A lot. You don’t wanna make him worry, do you?”

You wanted to tell him so badly. You felt like he needed to know why JJ wasn’t a priority right now. But you knew doing it would break Pope’s heart. Pope was in love with Kiara. And he deserved to know the truth, but you telling him out of spite wasn’t the best way to go through it.

“...Look, Pope.” You sighed, letting your shoulders fall. “Me and JJ aren’t on the best terms right now and I don’t want to be around him and I definitely don’t want his help. I know what I’m doing.” You assured, looking the boy in his eyes. “Okay? I’ll be fine, I promise.”

He seemed to sway on his feet, fighting with what to do in his head. “At least let me come with you. You can’t go alone-”

You immediately shook your head, putting your hands in front of you. “No, no. I don’t want you anywhere near Barry or Rafe without at least an army behind you.”

“But what about you?”

“...I’ve dealt with them before.” You affirmed, tensing your jaw.

Pope sighed in defeat, running a hand down his face. “Well, Rafe’s in jail but I doubt he’ll be in there long before he’s bailed out so you should be up against just Barry.” He pondered, turning to you and squinting his eyes. “...Fine. But if I call or text and I don’t get an answer, I’m telling JJ and everyone else. Deal?” He held out his hand.

The amount of care Pope had for your safety was sweet. So sweet it put a small, sheepish smile on your face. Connecting your hand with his, you shook it. “Deal.”

YOU SLOWED IN YOUR STEPS SOME FEET AWAY FROM THE SECLUDED TRAILER, wanting to minimize the chances of Barry seeing or hearing you before you even got to the door. The closer you got, the worse it smelled. You’d almost forgotten how the stench of weed and bonfire smoke stung your nostrils. Or how the overgrown grass scratched at your exposed legs, irritating the skin.

Your eyes immediately spotted a singular, metallic dog bowl — the inside smeared with what looked like canned meat. You felt sorrow and relief all at once. On the bright side, at least Marley was here. Or here at some point.

“Lookin’ for that mutt?” A familiar raspy voice sounded out. You whipped your head to the side to find Barry standing the doorway of his trailer. He startled you for a moment but the fear quickly diminished. After all, Barry rarely ever left the comfort of his trailer. He was dressed in a dirty wifebeater and shorts, his signature smirk plastered on his face.

“Where is she?” You asked, a hard expression on your face.

He simply drew his lips into a thin line, his eyebrows raising as he shrugged carelessly. “I ain’t got a damn clue.” He chuckled, shifting his weight against the frame and licking his lips. “Why don’t you ask Country Club?”

You rolled your eyes and crossed your arms. “He’s in a cell. Otherwise, I wouldn’t be here. Not alone, anyway.” You explained. “What, you don’t watch the news or something? Figured you’d keep tabs on your partner in crime.”

Barry just stood there smiling. Smiling weirdly. It made your stomach turn. You were never scared of Barry but he never failed to give you the creeps. “Trust me, I keep tabs.” He chuckled, strutting down the small staircase that led up to the door of his trailer. “You shoulda kept your ass away from here, Snoozie.” He told you, waving a finger in your direction, a mischievous expression on his face.

“...What is that supposed to mean?” You asked, pinching your eyebrows together.

“It means…whatever happens now is on you.” He smiled when suddenly, you felt two hands wrap around you and pull you into a body. One arm was on your neck, right under your chin as the other held your torso against the assailants. You could hear breathing in your ear — somewhere between heaving and chuckling as your body froze before trying to fight the person off to no avail.

“Hey, calm down,” You knew that voice.

It was the voice of someone who wasn’t supposed to be here.

“...Get off of me.” You warned, but it came out as more of a weak whisper.

You didn’t think you were afraid of Rafe anymore. But the feeling of his hands on your body, the force he was using to hold you in place, his warm breath against your neck — it all made you feel disgusting.

It made you feel like you were in the back of his truck all over again.

“Yeahhh…I can’t do that.” He laughed, walking you closer to Barry, his grip never loosening. “We’ll let you and your annoying ass dog go but, see, you walked into our domain? Alright, so…that means, we get to have our fun with you, first.” He whispered into your ear.

You watched helplessly as Barry pulled a plastic bag filled with a white, powdery substance from his pocket — scooping a decent amount onto the tip of his pinky before walking closer to you. "This for you and your friends stealin' my fuckin' money."

You began to dry heave, frantically shaking your head from side to side as he lifted the drugs to your nose. You jerked and jumped in Rafe’s hold, trying to do anything to get him to either let you go and disable Barry from drugging you.

“Hold her head still, Rafe.”

“Alright…” The Cameron boy groaned, carefully maneuvering the arm on your neck so that he quickly grasp your jaw, the strong hold causing an immediate ache as he held your head in place.

“There we go…” Barry drawled on, shoving his pinky so far up your nose that it hurt, triggering you to cough vehemently but ultimately sniff the substance. “Aight, she should be out soon. Take her inside, my neighbors are nosy as shit...”

Rafe released your jaw as you coughed. Your whole chest hurt and your nostrils stung and tingled, the sensation traveling from the bridge of your nose and to your brain — the feeling somewhere in between a migraine and a brain freeze. When your coughing died down, your head began to feel light. As light as a feather on your shoulders.

Their voices became inaudible in your ears, fading in and out. You tried to fight Rafe once more but you couldn’t feel your arms, or your legs for that matter.

The last thing you remember before the trees turned to blobs was Rafe carrying your body inside the trailer.

WHEN YOU OPENED YOUR EYES AGAIN, you didn’t know how much time had gone by. Minutes, hours…

Everything felt so heavy. Your eyelids were half close as that was as high as you could hold them. Your head rolled on your shoulders, gently swaying from side to side because holding it straight didn’t seem to be in your list of capabilities at the moment. Your lips felt permanently parted, not enough muscle strength to push them together and keep them there.

Looking around slowly, everything had a trail behind it. Everytime you turned, the object in your vision would leave behind a trail, like smeared paint. You didn't even know where you were, in all honesty. The kitchen? You looked up, letting your eyes settle before you realized what you were looking at — your hands. They were tied to a pole. A rack, of sorts.

You couldn’t even feel it. You tugged and tugged, at least you thought you were. But it didn’t look like your hands were moving.

“You awake now?” A voice echoed in your ears. You lowered your gaze to a find a figure in front of you.

Rafe, you concluded once your vision settled.

You swallowed and you could feel that, a little bit too much. It felt like you were swallowing rocks. What did Barry give you? “...Can you untie me?” You spoke.

“I’m sorry,” Rafe said, his voice sounding weird in your ears. He crouched down in front of you, his eyes boring into yours. He looked so much scarier. “...What was that? You’re mumbling, sunshine.”

You swallowed again, the action causing you to blink harshly - the smear of colors hurting you vision when you opened your eyes again. “...Can you untie me?” You mumbled once more, but you didn’t know you were mumbling. In your ears, you could hear your voice so clear. It was so loud and it echoed, like yelling down an empty hall — every sounded bounced off the walls.

Rafe just stared at you. It looked like he was thinking before he shrugged lightly, shifting closer to you and reaching above your head where your hands were bound. “You’re too weak to go anywhere anyway…can’t do anything…might as well.”

You felt your arms float to the floor as Rafe held the rope in his hands, examining it before tossing it to the side. His gaze returned to you, analyzing your face as if he’d never seen it before. His blue scanned over you in your entirety, drinking you in with his eyes. It felt like he was staring straight into your soul, taking every part of it for himself. He was your focal point, everything else behind him fading into a mess of colors.

Even in your altered state of consciousness, your body still found the strength to flinch when his hand reached out to touch your face, his fingers leaving a fiery trail in their wake. “...You are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.” He whispered, his voice sounding ghostly in your ears. “I just want you to let me love you. And you won’t…” His words made you ill. So ill that you were sure that your stomach audibly turned. “I never…meant to hurt you. But you just made it so hard.”

You could see the tears welling in his eyes and the redness blooming on his nose. He was…crying. Or trying not to. You couldn’t clearly tell. “And then you told everyone that I..raped you.” He choked out, threading his fingers through your hair as you tried to move away from his touch, the sound of his digits scraping against your roots making your body recoil. “We both wanted it. You were just too ashamed to admit it. You thought it was wrong, that we were wrong. You were fighting me, I'll admit…but you wanted it.”

You shook your head, bile rising in your throat. “...Didn’t.” You choked out, throwing your head back against the wall. “I didn’t…want it.” You breathed. “And I…don’t…love you.” You struggled to form fluent sentences, your words slurring in on each other even with the long pauses in between nearly each word. “You and your family…took everything f-...from me.” Talking was as hard as hiking up the steepest hill in the world. “I just want my dog back. Can’t you j-...just give her to me?”

“Jesus- forget the fucking dog!” Rafe screamed, kicking a nearby object. You couldn’t see what it was. His hands gripped his hair at the roots, the boy pacing back and forth in front of you before crouching down in front of you once more, closer this time. “This is about us — me and you. I am in love with you. So, why is it…that you can’t love me back? You led me on. You made me like this-”

“No, I didn’t.” You cried, head thrown back as you looked up at the ceiling, tears running from your eyes, the droplets tickling your cheeks. “You made…me like this.” You said tearfully, a cough following the statement. “I was fifteen. I didn’t know…any better. But you did.” You wailed, lowering your head to look at him, although your head still swayed. “And when I did…know better, you didn’t w-want to let me go. And it doesn’t even matter…” You almost laughed through your tears. “Because your dad…ruined my life months before we even met.”

Rafe was quick to wrap his hand around your neck after that, squeezing harshly. He edged his face closer to yours, the tips of his hair tickling your forehead as stars invaded your vision, or what remained of it. “My dad? Did what he had to do. Alright? He’s not a monster.”

“...Neither was mine.” You croaked out. Rafe looked between your eyes with an expression you couldn’t place. Sadness? Anger? Whatever it was, he felt enough of it to release his grip, you taking the biggest gulp of air possible, your hair falling in front of your face as you held it down weakly.

He stood up from his crouching position in front of you. You heard him pace around once more as you caught your breath, each intake feeling like you were breathing in the coldest air ever, before you cried out in pain, the sound hurting your ears. Rafe had grabbed a fistful of your hair, using it to pull you up, but you could barely stand so the angry boy used his other hand to grip your upper arm for support. Using the hold he had on you, he drug your limp frame into the small living area, throwing you onto Barry’s tattered sofa.

…Where was Barry?

You landed on your side, rolling over onto your back. The whole room was spinning again, the quickness of his actions not allowing your brain to catch up with the swift movements. “I try to do the right thing and no one ever cares. My dad and Sarah, even Rose…they blame me for everything.” He ranted and rambled, his hands balled into fists by his sides as he looked down at you. “I thought you were different.” He said through labored breaths. Him standing above you, face red and furious, you would've sworn he was the devil himself. “But you’re just as bad as the rest of them. But I can change that…” He nodded, climbing on top of you, straddling your motionless body.

All you could do was look at him through the strands of hair that cloud your vision. You let out a ‘hmph’ as he let his weight rest on your thighs. “I can’t change their minds. I can’t fix them.” He said, his hands trailing the hem of your bottoms before unbuttoning them. “...But I can fix you.” He breathed, his tongue peeking out from between his lips as he nodded to himself. “I can make you love me.”

Before you knew it, the sound of him dragging the zipper of your fly rang out in your ears - the familiar situation triggering a series of images to flash in your mind. Images of the first time. You felt the puddles of hot tears leaving your eyes as your throat ached to say something. “Please, stop…” You cried, throwing your head side to side as your weak hands tried to push his away. “Please, don’t do this again.” You stuttered, your nimble fingers clawing at his knuckles as he struggled to drag your bottoms down your legs.

You felt like God himself came down from Heaven when a harsh light filled the trailer, the door of the mobile home opening as Barry entered, taking in the scene in front of him. You quickly registered that it was actually moonlight blinding you so viciously, the brightness fading behind Barry’s figure to reveal the eerie darkness outside.

How long had you been here?

“Aye, what the fuck? Rafe!” Barry said disgusted, slamming the door shut behind him. “Get the fuck off her, man. Don’t do that shit in my crib.” He told him, throwing a hand out in his direction. Rafe sighed, getting off of you and aggressively dragging your pants back up your legs, but he didn’t bother to button them back. You laid on the couch, sobbing silently. You didn’t know if it was out of fear or relief. “That’s why yo ass put me on paw patrol? So you could fuck the doped up girl in my damn house?”

Rafe made a face of annoyance, rolling his eyes at the drug dealer’s words. “Did you do it?”

“Uh, yeah, I did it, dumbass.” Barry said, voice full of attitude. “I just let her go in the backyard, it sounded like they were all inside. I saw one of the dudes come out and take her inside before I dipped.” He explained, grabbing a half-drunken beer from his cluttered coffee table. “Why you have me take the dog back if she still here? Y’know they gon come lookin’ for her eventually…” He threw out, the rim of the beer bottle touching his lips before he took a big sip.

“Just had to leave a little hint behind.” Rafe told Barry, sitting on the couch next to your feet as you turned to your side, groaning. He made a line out of the loose coke on the coffee table before quickly snorting it. A large exhale leaving his lungs as he let it pass through him. “It’s fun to fuck with ‘em, dude.”

“I ain’t with these games and shit.” Barry complained, walking to the back of his trailer. You were still laid out on the couch, sobbing silently. “If they come by here and fuck up my shit, it’s comin’ outta your pocket, Country Club.” He said. “And give her another hit!” He called from the back. “All that cryin’ and shit is givin’ me a headache. Damn…”

Rafe rolled his eyes and mumbled under his breath before searching around the table before picking up the plastic bag Barry had before. You figured whatever they were putting you out with wasn’t cocaine. And that’s what scared you the most when Rafe snatched you up and shoved another pinky-full up your nose, letting your drowsy frame fall back into the plushness of the sofa.

“JJ…BACK IN THE VAN!” What sounded like John B’s voice filled your ears. Your eyes cracked open little by little, your vision much more clear and less distorted than the last time you recall waking up. So many voices were speaking at once. Your eyes wandered, trying to find out who was talking to who. It was then you realized the entire world was sideways and you were inside of The Twinkie.

Your head was slightly more elevated than the rest of your body, causing you to turn and peer above you where you found Sarah’s wide eyes staring down at you, finally registering the feeling on her fingers running through your hair. Her eyes were slightly red and glossed over as she peered down at you.

You felt more conscious this time around — no paint smears, no muffled voices, and you felt like you had more control over your body. You were cold, so cold. Probably shivering.

Looking over, you found that the door of the van was open. You could see a group of people crowded in on each other. When your vision focused, you realized it your four other friends and they were surrounding Rafe and Barry.

“What is wrong with you?!” That was Kie’s voice. And you knew her well enough to hear the anger in voice. “What the hell do you want, huh? You should be in jail, you sick motherfucker!” It wasn’t long before the guys pushed her to the back of the circle, the girl yelling at Rafe through the blockade they’d formed in front of her.

“You Kooks think you can do whatever the fuck you want!” JJ shouted, his voice deeper than you’d ever heard it before. It was almost unrecognizable. “You wanna end up like your father? ‘Cause we can make it happen!-”

“The fuck’d you just say to me, you little shit?” Rafe countered, stepping closer to JJ as John B and Pope stepped closer to him.

“You heard me, bitch.” JJ spat, the small accent he had showing itself as he pushed his way through his two friends to stand toe-to-toe with Rafe.

“All y’all needa get the fuck off my property.” Barry added, standing beside Rafe, but his words went ignored.

“If you wanna do this, we can do it. ‘Cause I’ve been waiting to get my fuckin’ hands on you.” JJ warned. “You like to drug girls? Rape them? Hit them? Hit me. Hit me, you pussy-” Just then, Rafe clocked JJ in his jaw, the force and sound of the assault causing you to flinch in Sarah’s lap as John B and Pope caught their friend, Kie gasping behind them. You tried to sit up as you watched JJ’s head whip to the side, but Sarah was quick to force your weak frame back down.

You looked up at her with wide, glassy eyes. “Rafe’s gonna hurt him.” You said weakly, sounding like a scared child.

The blonde girl simply shook her head side to side. “I don’t think so.” She smiled weakly before looking back out at the brawl unfolding outside of the vehicle. “Not this time.”

Your own eyes refocused on the two guys just as JJ recovered from the blow, wasting no time in lunging at Rafe and sending the boy to the ground, allowing himself to deliver blow after blow. You couldn’t tell if he was landing them, you could only see one arm go up after the other, his fists coming down in a vicious frenzy.

Kiara was calling JJ’s name as Barry shook his head and backed up,n John B and Pope watching with their hands up. “Y’all gon’ have the cops pokin’ around here...” Barry said angrily, eyes on John B and Pope who stood by helplessly, shocked. “Get this shit under control, I don’t need them people on my radar!” The drug dealer urged, the commotion sure to disturb any nearby trailer owners.

John B and Pope looked at each other before John B peered back at you, an expression of sadness in his eyes.

Oh. You forgot…he didn’t know.

So, it wasn’t long before that sadness turned to anger as he turned back to Barry. “...We’ll leave when he’s done.” John B spat, referring to the two boys brawling in the grass before walking away and rounding the vehicle to get in the driver’s seat, Pope and Kie following and climbing into the back of the van quickly. Without those three blocking your field of view, you could clearly see the two boys now.

Rafe had managed to pick himself up but surprisingly, JJ still had the upper hand. But it was still a brutal brawl between the two, one not staying on top for long before being pinned by the other. Every few seconds, you could spot droplets of blood flying. It was an odd thing — on one hand, seeing Rafe get his ass handed to him almost put a dizzy smile on your face, but on the other hand, you knew he’d never stop coming after JJ now. Any chance he got...

Especially since now he probably got the hint that JJ had some sort of feelings for you. JJ didn’t come after him like a concerned friend, JJ lunged at him like a enraged boyfriend. JJ attacked him like someone who was in love with you. And after what Rafe said in the trailer, or at least what you remember of it, these two would be butting heads over a lot more than financial status.

When the blaring of sirens hit your ears, you perked up, as well as everyone else. But Rafe and JJ were too enthralled with trying to kill each other that they must not have heard anything.

The pogues began calling JJ’s name, trying to draw him out of his rage-induced assault to get back in the van. After a few moments, he finally registered their voices and the sound of the sirens. He forcefully pulled himself away from Rafe as the boy laid on the grass, heaving. JJ delivered one last glare to the boy on the ground, the blonde’s chest going up and down heavily as he turned and threw himself into the van.

“And don’t come ‘round here no more, you hear me?!” Barry’s voice traveled before Pope slammed the door shut, John B speeding off.

Your eyes were trained on JJ’s breathing figure — he had a small trail of blood going from his bottom lip to his chin, dirt on his shirt and in his hair, and his eyebrows were set into a permanent frown. You managed to meet his eyes for a second and he looked upset.

Upset with you?

KIARA AND SARAH HELPED YOU INSIDE THE CHATEAU AS THE GUYS HELD THE DOORS OPEN. What you didn’t expect was for Marley to come charging at you the second you stepped foot in the house. The girls let you go gently, allowing you to crouch down on your knees and embrace your dog.

She smelled like wet dirt and you could feel the outline of her ribcage as you rubbed her sides. Tears gathered in your eyes as you and Marley comforted each other. Your voice was still weak and scratchy as you spoke softly to the animal. If anything, after today, you should be grateful she was still alive.

“Hey,” John B spoke up, your eyes going to him. “We can hose her down in the backyard while you wash off.”

You drew your lips into a thin line, nodding your head in his direction as you stood up on shaky legs, Kie and Sarah putting a hand each on your back. He and Pope led Marley outside, JJ lagging behind. “JJ.” You called out. The blonde simply looked at you over his shoulder, chewing the inside of his lip before making his way outside with the other two guys.

Your shoulders fell at his cold demeanor. You guessed he was upset with you.

“It’s okay…” Sarah reassured, her hand rubbing your back as you frowned into the distance. “He just needs a second.” She told you, turning you in the direction of the bathroom, helping you walk alongside Kie who hadn't said much. “C’mon. We’ll help you get yourself together…”

WHEN YOU CAME OUT OF THE BATHROOM, the house was empty. The only living things inside being a sleeping Marley and you. She looked a lot cleaner, aside from the food remnants around her mouth. You smiled smally to yourself, admiring the animal for a moments before walking over to her, crouching down and placing a light kiss on the top of her head. She was so deep asleep that she didn’t stir, even a little.

You almost passed out a handful of times in the shower, the steam only contributing to the lightheadedness you felt but easing the neverending ache in your arms and legs. But you felt better — less disoriented. Less…gross.

You were dressed in one of JJ’s few sweatshirts and a pair of pajama shorts. All the time the two of you’d spent living together meant some of your clothes were still mixed in with one another’s. Your hair was slightly damp, the strands pulled back into a low bun to keep it out of your face.

Even though you felt more sober, you still felt like you were walking outside of your body and it was making you a bit nauseous. You spotted a bottle of aspirin on the kitchen counter, snatching it up and swallowing two pills.

Just then, you heard voices outside — low and faint, but there. You peered out of the small window in the kitchen , spotting John B and Pope laid out on the HMS Pogue. Everyone must’ve gone outside, you thought to yourself.

You slipped out the backdoor, bare feet on the grass as you walked in the direction of the two guys.

“What’re you two talking about?” Your voice was still off and scratchy but you were grateful that you could hear yourself talking. The two males turned to you, making out your figure in the dark of night as you squeezed into between them on the boat.

“How’re you feeling?” Pope was the first to ask, genuine concern swimming in his eyes.

You sent him a small smile. “Better.” You nodded. “...And I’m sorry. For putting you in a weird position, before I left. I shouldn’t have done that-”

“You don’t have to apologize.” He shook his head, patting your shoulder. “I’m just glad you’re okay.”

You mumbled a ‘thanks’ to the boy, patting the hand on your shoulder as he slid it off as you turned to John B who was already looking at you. You knew him the best out of all your friends. That’s why you could tell he was going from upset with you to sad all at once.

“Just say it.” You sighed, giving him the floor.

“...Why didn’t you tell me?” He asked, squinting his eyes. “You’re like my sister. And not to sound weird but I love you, dude. I would’ve killed Rafe-”

“That’s why.” You cut him off, a pitiful frown on your face. “I didn’t need you doing anything stupid in my defense. And you were still torn up over your dad. We both were.”

He just huffed, turning away from you and shaking his head side to side as he crossed his arms. “...You still should’ve told me.”

“I know.” You nodded, sighing and sliding down to lay fully down next to your two friends. “Where is everyone?”

“Well, Kiara is out front doing…whatever. JJ has been pacing in the Surf Shack for like an hour, and Sarah...left.” He hesitated at the end of his statement, eyeing John B who just sighed deeply. You looked between them both, eyes stopping on John B.

“What happened?” You asked.

“We, uh…we broke up.”

“What?” You asked, shocked. “Why?”

“...She wasn’t the biggest fan of how I react to Ward blowing himself up.” He explained, shifting in his spot. “She said I looked glad. And I didn’t want to lie to her and say I wasn’t. Because I was.”

“I mean, I get it.” You threw out, looking up at the stars in the sky. “He killed your dad. He killed a lot of people…I think it’s okay to be glad he’s dead. But I also get her side. He was her dad. But she can’t expect you to feel the same.”

“Exactly what I said.” Pope chipped in. “How sad can you expect someone to be when their father’s murderer dies and they get to see it?”

“I don’t think it was that, though.” John B spoke up, his brows pinched. “She said that out of all people, she thought that I’d understand what it’s like to lose a dad. And I do and I feel like a dick for not comforting her in that moment and giving Topper the opportunity to swoop in but…I feel like she didn’t even give me a chance to be there for her.”

“...Love is five minutes of pleasure for a lifetime of pain.” Pope said sadly, you and John B turning to him silently with wide eyes. The boy turned to the both of you, the same expression plastered on his face.

“Okay…” John B groaned, sitting up from his position and leaning on his arm.. “You and Kie, talk to me. What’s goin’ on?”

“Well…” Pope said, sitting up as well as you just looked up at the two guys. “She wants to be just friends.”

John B and you sighed simultaneously. “Whooo, death blow.” JB said to him. “Sorry, man.”

“It’s not like I can say I didn’t see it coming. After what happened in Charleston…” Pope was explaining before he cut himself off, his wide eyes darting to you as he pressed his lips shut. But John B’s curiosity was peaked, and so was yours.

“What happened in Charleston?” The brunette boy asked, looking between the two of you.

Pope’s mouth opened and closed like a fish gasping for air. You cocked an eyebrow, sitting up on your own elbow now. “So you did see it?”

Now he was the one looking confused, using his finger to point at you. “You saw it? I thought you were inside-”

“I was but I had just walked out when I saw them.”

“So, we both saw it?”

“Helloooo.” John B butted in, the two of you looking at him. “Third party is still here. Saw what?”

“The kiss.” You and Pope said at the same time, looking at him.

“Kiss? What kiss? Who kissed?” He asked, genuinely baffled.

“Kie and JJ.” The both of you said in sync again.

John B’s jaw dropped as he stuttered to find words. “Is that why you’ve been avoiding JJ?” He settled on his question, eyes on you.

“Yes…” You said squinting your eyes. “What would you know about that, though?” You asked, wondering when JB got the inside scoop on you and JJ’s newfound relationship.

“I mean, everyone could see he had a thing for you. For a looong time. Well, everyone but you…”

“Thank you.” Pope butted in, throwing his hands up in surrender when you shot him a glare. “I’m just saying, I wasn’t the only one who saw it.”

“And he kind of told me everything that happened while me and Sarah were gone.” John B smirked as you groaned. “But we’re getting off topic…” He waved his hands, dismissing the previous statements.

“Right.” Pope refocused. “I never said anything about the kiss to her or him. I just kind of hoped it was a spur of the moment thing and that it would just remain as that — a kiss. But then, she friendzoned me. And now I can’t help but think that she likes JJ. And I don’t know if JJ likes her, no offense Y/N...”

“He told me he doesn’t.” You butted in. “The day we got that call about what happened to your pops, we had an argument about it. He said that Kie initiated the kiss and it didn’t mean anything. To him, at least. I don’t know how much of it I believe but," You cut yourself off, shrugging. "And I can’t speak for Kiara…”

“Okay, here’s some not-so-friendly advice for the both of you from good ole Dr. Routledge,” John B piped up, a bright smile on his face. “You,” He pointed a Pope. “focus on your yourself and your books and…grades and shit. Forget about Kie, there’s plenty of fish in the sea. And you, Pope, are one handsome young man and I guarantee there is some girl out there willing to jump your bones and not kiss one of your best friends. And, you, little missy,” His attention turned to you. “If JJ says he doesn’t have feelings for her and the kiss didn’t mean anything, I’d believe him. He loves you and I don’t think he would do anything to purposefully screw up his chance with you. And please, for the love of God, be nice and talk to him. Hearing him whine about you not talking to him is going to drive me off a cliff.”

The three of you laughed before you turned to Pope, a light smile on your face. “So, you really just weren’t going to tell me?” You asked in faux-offense.

Pope faked shock, a hand on his chest. “Uh, me? I didn’t even know you and JJ had something going then. If anything, you should’ve been the one to tell me.”

“I didn’t want to upset you!” You laughed and groaned all at once.

“Yeah, yeah…” He waved you off lightheartedly. “Alright, next time we see something that would…affect the other person, we have to tell. Deal?” He asked, holding out his pinky.

“Ohhh, okay. We’ll be each others witnesses. I like this two person witness protection program.” You smiled, connecting your pinky with Pope’s. “Deal.”

YOU WERE IN THE GUEST ROOM WHEN THE DOOR CREAKED OPEN, a stream of light illuminating the dimly lit space — the only source of light being a bedside lamp. You thought everyone had gone to sleep.

Turning at the sound of the door, you found JJ closing the entryway behind him before he turned to you. You could hardly see his features, not enough light to see his face clearly. Neither of you said anything as he walked slowly towards you, walking around the bed.

He stopped in front of you, just inches between the both of you. Nothing was to be heard except your breathing and the cicadas outside.

“...What’s wrong with you?” He asked. His voice sounded strained, like he’d been crying. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

You nodded, accepting his frustration towards you. Swallowing, you attempted to reply. “...I didn’t think-”

“Yeah, you didn’t think.” JJ cut you off. “You left without telling anyone. You went there alone. Why would you do that?”

“He wasn’t supposed to be there-”

“Anything could’ve happened to you. Anything.” JJ reprimanded, shifting closer to you subconsciously. “Do you know what is was like to hear, from Pope, that’d you left to go to Barry’s trailer hours ago? That you hadn’t answered any of his calls or texts that you said you’d answer? To ride all the way there with my heart beating out of my damn chest just to rush in and find you passed out on the couch with the your pants unbuttoned, confirming every single fear-”

“Nothing happened-”

“But something could have!” He lost himself, looking around as if someone heard as he licked his lips, one tear rolling down his cheek. “He tried to, clearly, and something could have.” He sighed, letting himself sit on the edge of the guest room bed, his head in his hands. “...You didn’t even know who I was when we woke you up the first time to put you in the van. You didn’t recognize any of us. You were completely out of it. I've never seen anyone like that...” He told you. You don’t recall waking up more than twice. Voices and colors here and there but…not much. “I know…that you think I took your trust and feelings and ran with them. But you can’t do things like that.” He said firmly, lifting his head to look at you. “I’m not blaming you. I just want you to understand that even if you’re mad at me or whoever, you can’t just abandon ship. Especially, not like that.”

He told you, reaching his hands out to grab your waist and pull you closer as you sniffled. You felt almost completely sober as you stood between his legs, the aspirin you took earlier taking effect.

“Are you okay?” He asked, his teary blue eyes boring into yours as he looked up at you. You bit your lip from the inside of your mouth as you nodded. “Okay…good.” He sighed, letting his head fall in relief before looking at you again. “I know the last few days have been…hard. Especially today. And I’m sorry that I put you in a place where you couldn’t even trust me as a friend anymore. But I don’t know how else to tell you or show you that I love you. And today just made me realize how badly I need you and how far I’m willing to go for you.” He said softly. “...There were so many reasons I didn’t tell you about the kiss. For one, it didn’t mean anything to me. Also the fact that I didn’t want to cause drama between you and Kie. But none of that matters because there was only one reason that I should’ve told you — because you deserved to know and because I promised I would. So, I am really sorry.”

You'd never heard JJ be this vulnerable and open. Or be so vulnerable and open this easily. It didn't seem practiced or rehearsed. It was like he was really letting his heart speak for him and right all his wrongs.

After what happened today, holding a grudge wasn't as appealing. Because you didn't know what could happen tomorrow.

“...I believe you. And I forgive you.” You said, eyes locked on his. “And I’m sorry, too. If I had told you guys where I was going then maybe-”

“Don’t even go there.” He stopped you, shaking his head. “Rafe is insane. What he and that fucking loser, Barry, did wasn’t your fault. You shouldn’t have gone there alone, sure, but what happened wasn’t your fault.”

You just sent him a half-hearted smile. You know he meant it but you still felt at least partially to blame. You licked your lips and took a deep breath before speaking, your hands rubbing up and down the blonde’s exposed arms. “JJ…” You spoke, more like whispered.

Something in the way you looked at him changed. Something in the way you felt for him changed. “...I want you.” You felt the boy tense in your arms, lifting his head up more to look you directly in the eyes. “I don’t need any more time. I know what I want and I know how I feel. I love you. And I want you.”

“...Are you sure? Because you just went through something really terrible tonight-”

“I’m sure.” You interrupted him. “If I keep waiting until nothing bad happens to be with you, then we’ll never be together. This is our lives now. And even if we didn’t have all this death and drama around us, I would still love you.” You reassured, trailing your hands up to his shoulders as his soothed themselves up and down your waist. “You said you were all mine. So, now I’m all yours, if you want me…”

He had a look on his face that you couldn’t decipher. His eyes looked at each of yours and then landed on your lips, seeming to trace them before pulling you down into him and colliding his lips with yours. A small noise of surprise leaving your lips before you melted into the exchange. Your hands slid around the nape of his neck as his trailed the length of your thighs, helping you onto his lap.

His fingers pressed into your skin, passionately dragging his prints into your skin as your nails scraped at the skin of his scalp and shoulders. The kiss wasn’t like the ones before. Those were soft and gentle, testing the waters. This kiss was hungry and prolonged — feverish. So starved of each other that it probably would’ve had the potential to lead to something else if the day had gone differently.

But knowing JJ, after what happened tonight, any kind of sex was off the table. Ad you weren't sure when you'd be ready to go that far. But this was good enough. More than good enough. There wasn’t a single part of either of you that wasn’t touching. You couldn’t help but sigh when his warm hand went up under your shirt, his fingers clawing at your back as he pressed you endlessly closer against him.

You were confused when he pulled back — lips swollen and red as his hair stuck up in one-hundred different directions. He was breathing heavy when he spoke. “Sorry, sorry…” He said through labored breaths. “Just to be clear, you are my girlfriend, right-”

You couldn’t help but laugh and roll your eyes. “Yes, JJ, I’m your girlfriend.” You smiled. “I’m completely yours.” You sighed, eyeing his lips like an animal before connecting your lips with his once more, the both of you falling back into the mattress.

next chapter>

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