#also i debated for like five minutes on whether i wanted to tag people or notttt

[neoluca]

My year in review!! I tried to do a lot of different things this year, and I feel like I drew a lot more than in previous years 💛 I hope you'll all stay tuned for next year as well :3

Template made by HaruRyomaru86 on deviantart: (x)

id also like to invite @loupgawou @pinksthetics @staryanna @skunkes @aishashopkeeper @synthaphone @illegaltruffle @boredchanty to do the same if you haven't already!! id really love to see everything you've all done as well 🥰 (and if you have done one already link me to it please!!!)

[the-ace-with-spades]

little snippet from a buddie outsider pov future fic that i probably won't ever finish because its part 3 of a series, or aka the Bobby-fication of Buck

"I was told to report to Captain Diaz?"

The man, with Diaz clearly written on his name tag, stares. It's not the most friendly of stares but it's not that kind of a stare and Kori had his fair share of them as a brown boy who consistently used public transport and worked night shifts. He'd expected to have a welcome that wasn't the warmest but he at least wanted some kind of verbal acknowledgment. 

Well, this is awkward, he thinks, why is he not saying anything?

Kori woke up bright and early today, excited and anxious for his first day, over an hour before his alarm started blasting, and then made sure he had his bag packed with all the essentials he would need on a twenty-four shift. Four different sets of clothes, five meals in Tupperware, protein bars, a book, headphones, towel, shampoo and shower gel, the basic firefighting manual from the academy and his paramedic textbooks. He prepared to be too prepared rather than embarrass himself by asking to borrow shampoo on his first day.

He arrived at the firehouse via Uber because public transport in LA couldn't be reliable and he also couldn't afford a car and then he had stood panicked on the side of the truck bay for about fifteen minutes before checking his email again for the right names — Captain Diaz, 118 Ladder Company — all along to the schedule in his head.

And now the guy, he's just—standing there. Staring at Kori like he's debating whether he should eat him alive or roast in the oven beforehand.

The thing is, Kori knows he’s disappointing for a firefighter. He’s barely five foot seven, five foot six without the boots, really, and he’s lean and slim, in a way that would make some people doubt whether he can carry a person out of a burning building — he can — and he’s, well, he’s average.

But the One-Eighteen is stuck with him for the year, he might be average and disappointing, it just doesn’t matter. Because they are stuck with him.

He still hasn’t seen Firefighter Buckley.

"Are you Captain Diaz?"

He looks a bit young, for a captain, but he is pretty sure there have been younger ones in the history of LAFD. And Diaz is a common surname, in California, or common enough that it wouldn’t be impossible to have two people with it in the firehouse even if still a bit improbable.

"Oh," he says, looking down at the nametag on his chest, finally noticing where Kori's been glancing at the whole time. "Sorry, kid, that would be my husband. I'm Lieutenant Paramedic Diaz."

Kori, he must admit to himself, blinks at him like he had just spoken in Mandarin and not English. Because there are two Diazes in the firehouse. And both of them are his officers. And they’re married.

The—The lieutenant crosses his arms over his chest, puffing up like a peacock, and narrows his eyes. “Do we have a problem?”

“No, sir,” he says, immediately. “I didn’t know they allowed married couples to work together, that’s all.”

The lieutenant still looks at him like he's trying to assess the deepest secrets of his soul and raises one eyebrow at him like he expects a fight but his shoulders fall slightly. He's, uhm, very handsome, even this angry, in that foxy dad kind of way that Kori's never been interested in but knew it was a thing.

"My husband and I worked together for seven years before we married, I think we've proved we can stay professional," he says and it sounds a bit like a threat. "He's in the office downstairs. You should report to him before you're late to your first shift."

He smiles but Kori has a feeling it's a mean smile.

Kori does go back downstairs, passes the rest of the loft and walks past the kitchen where he sees three other firefighters, quietly eating breakfast. The conversation stops and they all collectively look up at him. He probably should say something or wave or anything so it's not awkward but no, he just speed-walks into the narrow corridor that — he hopes — leads to the offices.

He passes two doors before he finds the right one. There is a brand new plate hanging on the side of it, shiny and not dusty at all, with Capt. Diaz and Lt. Diaz written on it and the door is wide open — someone is in the closet in the back, from what it seems, going over documents or something that makes a similar rustling sound. Kori moves into the doorframe, going for a knock, when he realizes.

There's no door. Nothing, just an empty door frame with taped down hinges. There's no way for him to knock.

He clears his throat as loudly as he can.

There are two desks inside, one with a brand new plate of Capt. Diaz and one with slightly less shiny Lt Diaz on it. It looks like any other office, slightly bare on the shelves but also full of diplomas and official pictures of past officers hanging on the walls. There's also a framed drawing made by an elementary school kid, or Kori guessed it was an elementary school kid, of a firefighter in bunker gear, dead center on the wall behind the captain's desk, and a couple of photos of what he assumes is the station's crew, all in their dress uniforms — he can't see it very well.

The captain's desk is full, with another frame standing on the edge, three pencil holders filled to the brim, multiple kinds of colorful stationery, and stacks of documents and folders cluttering the countertop. There's even a freaking fidget spinner on it — he hasn't seen one since freshman year in high school. It's a mess but Kori knows that even being a probationary firefighter would mean way too much paperwork for a job that was technically blue collar. The new captain wasn't just a new captain, he was also newly-qualified to be a captain so Kori suspects he probably is barely keeping up with the forms and documents as of right now — it's a learning curve.

The lieutenant's desk also holds a couple of frames but there's only a small pencil case and a neatly arranged stack of folders lying in an even more neatly arranged corner.

And wow. That's Firefighter Buckley, even more awe-inspiring than he was eleven years ago

He looks at Kori with a half-smile stuck on his face but with a frown on his forehead. There are wrinkles around his eyes, forming like laughter lines. He tilts his head and Kori thinks—Kori thinks this is it, he remembers me, he—

"Khorshed Patwari, was it?" he asks and his grin looks the same, almost — there’s more wrinkles, around his eyes and on his forehead, and his face seems a bit softer, but it’s like a memory refresher. "Am I pronouncing it right?"

It's stupid — Firefighter Buckley saved probably hundreds if not thousands of people, he's been a firefighter for at least twelve years, probably, and Kori is just one of those faces he had seen for a minute or two. Easily forgotten. Average. It's understandable that he doesn't remember him, he would probably be more surprised if he did remember him.

"Everyone calls me Kori," he says, after clearing his throat. He knows he’s gaping like a fish, a bit, but he can’t help it — Firefighter Buckly looks almost unchanged and he can’t believe he’s here.

"With the h?"

He blinks. "Sorry?"

"Do you keep the h in Kori?" he clarified, huffing a small chuckle out.  "I want to know how to spell it correctly in the future."

"Just Kori, uhm, K-O-R-I, is okay," he explains, still star-struck.

"Uhm," he says eloquently. "I'm looking for Captain Diaz? I was supposed to report to him?"

"That would be me," Firefighter Buckley says and—Oh. He’s a captain and he’s—he’s married to a man that’s the station's lieutenant. He's not really Firefighter Buckley anymore, is he? "Although most people just call me Buck, or Cap, if you really must."

[mossy-kit]

What’s the white whale fic about!

(also answering this ask from my beloved @yrael “hiiii you should talk about forever's a luxury” thank you also 😊)

ohoho my white whale... my holy grail.... my "one day if this were done it'd be really good but it is distinctly not done"... forever's a luxury, aka my Tyler Violet post ambush reintegrating into their life fic. Started back pretty much right after Tyvi got resurrected, back in summer 2021, and then I kept picking it back up and sticking bits on it and rewriting intermittently for quite some time, up until my lull a while back at least.

The central premise of this one is essentially just Tyvi, who died back in season 3, coming back after being unceremoniously ambushed roughly thirty years after they died. They immediately leave the Tigers’ shadows to go back to stay with Ziwa, who I tend to lore as their childhood friend and essentially lifelong ride or die. For both of them, it’s this incredible gift they never expected to be given, but at the same time Tyler’s got a lot going on: nearly their entire team was Ship of Theseused away in their absence (which they still feel guilty for and particularly broken up about, since they helped sign up a lot of the early team members), the game is still going on and putting the people they have left in danger, they feel bad for leaving their teammates still down in the Hall, and mostly – on some level, they want so badly to fit into the hole that was left, and so do their friends, but they’ve been gone thirty years, and never had a chance to do the growing that the still-living ones got to do, so they’re stuck with a lot of twenty-something baggage and habits that the people they’re closest with (namely Ziwa, and then Greer, their sort of ex) have moved on from in a lot of ways, and it’s about them finding their way through that to keep going forward anyway.

some snippets because now I’m in the word document again and remembering how much fun this was to write:

“Tyler still can’t help but feel like if they blink, one of them will disappear. Because the gods don’t offer gifts for free. They know that. So if they’re alive, it’s because they’re a marionette held by callous hands, and they’ll need to dance to earn their place, just like everyone else. It’ll catch up with them; they don’t know how, but they know it just like they knew the minute Jaylen burned that they would too, eventually.

But Ziwa’s here, they’re here, right now, solid and wide eyed and so very, very alive, and so is Tyler, even if only for tonight.”

“Sure, they look like the one they knew; they could have been twins. This one’s glowing eye is green instead of purple, but even in that difference, the mischief lighting up the unlit eye is almost exactly the same. They watch this Jenkins high-five a scruffy looking pitcher with an extremely bedazzled jacket, and they keep having to remind themselves that this isn’t them, that this person won’t remember always sharing the Hawaiian pizza with them in the away game hotel rooms, tag-team teasing right back if anyone tries to argue the old pineapple-on-pizza debate. Because that person’s gone, has been for a long time now. And it’s not like she didn’t know that, but it’s not every day you have to look the proof in the face.” <- Tyler is not so much getting along with Jenkins in this fic at least at first lol

“Their first thought, when they wake up, is whether Kennedy’s going to want to go and stand by the big rock that they claim “gets better reception” to see if they can get a Haunting in that day, maybe try and pass the last message they wrote through to Vela. And then for a moment they’re wondering where Hobbs is, because he usually ends up half sleeping on their arm and maybe he got up early to go talk to some of the Magic like he does when he’s bored because he’s never really slept much and then they’re wondering where all of them are, because Eli should be snoring, even though they don’t breathe he still manages to find a way to snore, and Trev should be stirring by now too, and then they get this horrible, sinking feeling in their gut that something’s wrong, something’s horribly wrong, and so they force their bleary eyes open and all of them are gone, and the memories crash back in all at once.”

augh. anyway. one day I’ll write this, shake my fist at god, etc etc. thanks for the ask! always fun to get into it again 😊

[vulturevanity]

Could you please tell us about Tales of Terin.

Oh my gosh. Yes I can. This will get long so bear with me.

Tales of Terin is my project for a fantasy series set in the world of Terin, which is populated by anthropomorphic animals in a magical society inspired partly by the culture of the region where I live, partly by Iberian Europe and South America from around the 17th century -- more specifically, Colonial Brazil (which at the time was under Portugal). I just got tired of fantasy settings based almost exclusively on Central and East European cultures and wanted something closer to myself.

I'll keep this post to a sparknotes version of the lore up until the inciting incident, because it will get long enough without me trying to summarize the world at large AND the entire story AND all the characters, and also I've posted extensively about some of those aspects in previous posts (I may make a masterpost with links to all the relevant stuff because the tag is a mess of character memes, inspiration pictures and some outdated art shfkfjdk)

Anyway lore

Magic in this world comes from five extremely Sacred Stones whose existence in-universe is somewhere between rumour and myth. There are two known gods, Telgaros and Haedin. It's widely believed Telgaros "died", because people were being shitty and he allegedly wanted to wipe them out, so Haedin went "nah" and turned him into the stars, then became the sun herself.

Pretty story, there are even holidays about it, but it's very much not true.

The gods are alive, and they lied. There is a third god no one knows about who's imprisoned Somewhere due to Reasons, they're Pissed About It, and Haedin and Telgaros are currently having a pretty heated debate on whether or not they should free them. And since this somehow concerns the mortals, they're bringing the fight to Terin.

So. Terin. There's this continent called Guaraitá (Gwah-rah-ee-TAH). If you're a merchant or noble living there, things are pretty nice. If you look like you might be trouble, though, get ready to have a bad time. It's what happened to Ani, the jailbird, one of our main characters. He used to be a high-grade thief along with his childhood friend and partner in crime Agatha. They scammed nobles out of a pretty penny for years, until Agatha fell in love with one of their targets and betrayed him. Just like that: sentenced to 25 years in the dungeons. The justice system is pretty nasty to people who mess with nobles.

But then something funny happened. A decade before the end of his sentence, the rich guy who threw him under comes up and offers to pardon him if he manages to track down Agatha and bring to him their child, whom he'd never got to meet, as his health is deteriorating and he needs an heir. Huh. That's one hell of a way to find out she'd ditched her noble lover while pregnant. Ani's feeling pretty bitter about... everything right now so he takes the offer out of spite, pretty certain he knows her enough to find her even after 15 years.

So he gets Parole Bracelets put on him (more on that here) and sets off to the very quaint Sun Village, a rural town at the edge of a beautiful forest. The fertile ground is great for farming, the DuBach family (renowned for their grade-A dewcattle*) is even established here, but mostly it's small commerce and a tight-knit community. And there, on that morning, in their old hometown, as Ani predicted, he sees Agatha. He finds her at the farmer's market, a smaller, lighter-furred version of her clinging to the hem of her dress.

He feels approximately 37 different emotions when their eyes meet, and after a minute of looking at him like he's a ghost, she manages to reluctantly invite him for coffee and cake later at her house. Which he accepts, partly because he really, really missed Agatha, partly because he's planning to be extremely petty and vengeful and abduct the little pup -- Jade, he learns -- and bring her to his patron against her will because fuck Agatha, he hates Agatha, and he has a job to do.

But he never gets the chance to, because at noon the town is gone, engulfed in flames, as are the entire forest and the crops and most of the dewcattle. The terinians who survived the giant wave of magical fire are desperately running around trying to save themselves, their friends and their valuables. Ani knows he won't get pardoned if he brings back a corpse, so he bolts to Agatha's house and finds her crushed under rubble, having shielded little Jade from it (Jade herself got hit while trying to grab her little accordion and fell unconscious). With her dying breath, she begs for forgiveness and for him to take care of Jade. He uh. He takes Jade and leaves without a word.

After the chaos dies down and grief sets in, the fraction of the village's population that survived congregates at the edge of town, where Malvina DuBach is organizing the people so her friend Rusty can use his healing magic to help everyone he can. As Ani approaches, Rusty recognizes the little Jade and immediately tells him to jump the line so he can heal her. They introduce themselves, Ani tells them he's taking her to the Capital, and they offer to take him there in their wagon, since they're coincidentally also going there. He reluctantly takes the offer, since the journey back on foot would take too long.

Not two days after, they're intercepted by a stranger who introduces himself as Theo, says the world is starting to end and he needs help stopping that. Shenanigans ensue, they end up embarking on a worldwide journey for the Sacred Stones.

Any follow-up questions?

Oh, also Magnolia caused the fire.

Edit: oh, forgot to clarify: Dewcattle is what they call the equivalent of cows in this world, because non-sapient animals are fusions between normal animals and bugs. In this case they're cows who are also aphids. Pretty fluffy and produce honeydew instead of milk.

[rogue-durin-16]

OUT OF TROUBLE

Summary: After a Quidditch match, both George and Y/n sneaked out to grab a drink at the Three Broomsticks with their respective teammates. The tension between the two groups might end up causing more trouble than imagined.

Pairing: George Weasley x Slytherin!Reader

Genre: kinda angsty kinda fluffy

Tags:

George Weasley: @meph1stophelian

Permanent taglist: @elia-the-bibliophile @randomparanoid @karlthecat15722 @thebutchersdaughtersblog @amourtentiaa @just-here-to-escape-from-reality @skarlettmikaelson

Warnings: blood, injuries, violence, concussion, language (?)

A/N: idk what to say apart from the idea of George losing his shit big time won't leave me alone and idek why (blaming it on that scene in the Order of the Phoenix in which George and Harry beat Malfoy the fuck up) so enjoy <3

Rogue-durin-16 masterlist

"Well," McGonagall's severe eyes scrutinized all six of us from the other side of her desk. "who is going to give us" she briefly motioned at Snape, who stood by her side with an unimpressed yet disappointed look on his face. "a proper explanation of why Madam Rosmerta so kindly let us know that not only seven of our seventh year students were on Hogsmeade without permission,"

"But also making a scene and coming to blows." Snape finished, quirking a brow. "Do you know how lucky you are that Madam Rosmerta picked on the fact that you were students?" The potions teacher's eyes fixed on the three Gryffindors before inquiring, "Who started it?"

Silence.

"Merlin's— There is a student in the hospital wing!" McGonagall exclaimed outraged. "You all ought to come clean about this one."

More silence.

"Mister Weasley, you seem to be unusually quiet." The Head of Slytherin pointed out.

"Well, you see, professor," George's head, which had until that moment been resting on his arms over the school desk, was tilted up slightly. "I've got a bit of a headache going on." He motioned at the back of his head, in which a patch of dried blood had glued his hair.

"Weasley, I must insist on you to go see Madam Pomfrey." McGonagall's tone, although remaining severe, softened a bit.

"Nah, 's not that bad." George gave Warrington a side look and forced himself to sit upright.

"I'm going to ask again." Snape spoke. "Who started it?" He weighed the possibilities before inquiring, "Mister Weasley?"

"Why me?!" George flinched at his own shouting.

"Do you want me to believe the state Mister Montague was left in was Miss Spinnet's doing? Miss Bell's, perhaps?" The Gryffindor girls grumbled under their breaths, catching the professor's attention. "What was that?"

"I said why us?" Katie questioned with a tinge of indignation. "Is it because we're Gryffindors?"

"Obviously." Snape spat, earning a roll from Mcgonagall, though she didn't oppose her colleague.

Alicia only laughed humorlessly and folded her arms over her chest.

"We can stay here all night, if you'd like it that way." McGonagall stated after around five minutes of just silence.

"Ugh, fine." George let his head fall in the comfort of his forearms again and groaned, "it was me— I started it. Can we go now?"

"What the hell?!"

"Miss Spinnet!" McGonagall scolded her, stomping her desk.

"Can we go now or not?" George's eyes met my shocked gaze briefly.

"Everyone but you, Mister Weasley." McGonagall stated.

"Wait, no." I tapped my foot nervously against the tiles and took at deep breath. "It wasn't him, it was me."

"Miss Y/l/n!" I refused to meet McGonagall's and Snape's face, so I left my eyes casted down, but I still heard the professors' quiet whispers. "What on Godric's name happened?"

Two Hours Earlier

After a Quidditch victory in Slytherin's favor, some of us had resolved to sneak out of the castle and go celebrate with a drink in Hogsmeade.

Turns out some Gryffindors had had the same idea, though the drink they were having was definitely not a celebration.

"Look who's here," Montague nodded in the Gryffindors direction, purposefully walking in their direction. "You're missing half of the team!" He chuckled, not stopping more than a couple of seconds. "Are they crying on their dorms?"

"Get lost, Montague." Katie Bell spat, earning faces from both Graham and Cassius. Alicia Spinnet flipped us off, and George limited himself to give me a small wave, which I returned with a little smile.

"How's the place this crowed?" Kevin questioned with a frown as we tried and failed to find an empty booth.

"No idea." I replied, taking a look around. "I'll go grab the drinks, you look for a place, yeah?" Cassius nodded and I made my way to the counter; I could feel Bell's and Spinnet's dirty looks on me while I ordered the butter beers.

"Celebrating, are we?" My head turned to meet George's form, leaning on the counter besides me.

"Yup." I shortly answered with a proud grin.

"You're missing your seeker." I rolled my eyes at his comment. "I wonder where he's at."

"You know where he's at." I quirked my brow when he played dumb, a smug smile dancing on his lips. "I'm very aware it was you who sent him to the hospital wing."

"It was actually a bludger." He pointed out, giving Madam Rosmerta the coins for a butter beer.

"Oi, what are you doing?" I attempted to shove his hand away, but there was no use.

"Smoothly buying you a drink?" He winked and I felt blood going up to my cheeks. "Just her drink, though." He added, looking at Rosmerta.

"No you're not— he's not." The owner of the Three Broomsticks gave us a look but ended up accepting my money instead.

"Aw c'mon, Y/n" George pouted while Rosmerta passed me the drinks. "I've just lost an important match, let me have a win?"

"You can buy me the next drink," I resolved, chuckling at the way his expression lighted up. "but only if you don't cause trouble."

"Pfft I'm too depressed to cause trouble." I could tell he wasn't joking, though he still made it sound humorous. "Need help with that?" He motioned at the four drinks I was attempting to grab.

"No she doesn't."

George visibly grimaced at the sight of Cassius but, instead of snapping at him, he only leaned on me and pecked my cheek after saying, "No trouble, see?"

"Piss off, Weasley."

"No need to be that rude." I spat, taking two glasses in my hand.

"No need to consort with the enemy." He responded, picking up the remaining jars.

We approached the spot our Quidditch team had taken and had a surprisingly uneventful good time, until Montague started to run his mouth.

"Look at them, they're so pathetic." He obnoxiously laughed.

"Look at whom?" I questioned, a bit lost in my thoughts to know what he was even talking about.

"Don't play dumb." He hissed. "As if you haven't been staring at that Weasel since we entered."

"Ugh, honestly Graham." I lazily played with my jar. "Can't we just enjoy the drink without focusing on the only three Gryffindors in the room?"

"You're one to talk." Cassius mumbled.

"Meaning?"

"Graham's right, you've been staring at him." I pinched the bridge of my nose. They've done this little number so many times that I was no longer embarrassed. "What was that kiss about?"

"Cassius!"

"What kiss?" Graham inquired.

"He kissed her."

"Oh my gosh—" I threw my head down to my forearms in desperation.

"Ew!" Kevin gagged dramatically. "Did you let a blood traitor kiss you with that filthy mouth?"

"You did not just say that." My tone held a serious warning as I looked up at our keeper.

"Great, he's staring." Cassius grumbled.

"Frankly, he could use a lesson." My eyes widened at Graham's words; at first I thought he was joking, but then he grabbed his wand with a wicked smirk.

"Don't make a bloody number." I whispered. "We'll get in trouble."

"Y/l/n, I'm starting to think you're not on our side."

"Montague, if you earn us detention—" my words were cut off by another statement of his.

"No one's gonna know if we're sneaky enough." I looked at Bletchley and Warrington for some back up but they both seemed to be on board with Montague's plan. "What about a little... cruci—" before he could finish the word, I kicked his chair, making him fall to the floor.

"What's wrong with you?!" I shouted, kicking his wand away after standing up myself.

"Y/n, calm down." Cassius said.

"He was gonna use the Cruciatus, so maybe no?!"

"Careful, Y/n." By then, Montague had already gotten up; Bletchley had to tug him back for him not to go against me. "If you get along with scum, you're scum."

I didn't fully realise that I had slapped him until I heard a few people gasping; all from sudden, I was very aware that I had attracted unwanted attention.

There was a moment of tense silence between Montague and me, quickly followed by him grabbing my hair and hitting my face against the table, too fast for me to do anything about it.

"OI!" Cassius pulled me away from Montague, my hands covering my most likely broken nose, debating on whether to hold it to stop the nosebleed or not touching it to avoid more pain.

GEORGE'S P. O. V.

"They're talking shit." Katie whispered, squinting her eyes at the Slytherins.

"Of course they're talking shit." I responded.

"I'd love to go there and shove those—" Alicia grumbled, tightening the grip on her glass.

"Don't." They both looked at me expectant and I only shrugged. "Y/n asked me not to cause trouble."

Alicia snorted when my eyes travelled to Y/n and Katie mocked me with a silly grin. "Awww, Alicia, he's in love."

"George Weasley is in love" Alicia faked a gag. "With a Slytherin."

"Oh my— you're two shut up." I felt blush creeping up my neck, though I couldn't help the smile twitching up the corners of my lips.

"I mean," Katie shrugged, sharing a look with our friend. "Could be worse."

"Could be Warrington." Before I could respond to Alicia, a loud noise was heard behind me. "Ooooh your princess just kicked Montague." Our chaser commented; we all turned around to look at the Slytherins. "This is gonna be fun."

"Why do I feel like they're talking about us?" I said with a laugh.

"Did... Did she just say 'cruciatus'?" Katie questioned, a tinge of worry in her voice.

"Damn! Okay, time to go." Alicia whispered, getting up right after Y/n had slapped Montague. Katie and I were already following her to the exit when a thud made us stop in our tracks.

"He did not—" Katie started.

"He did." Alicia replied; she was quick to double check on me, but I was quicker to stalk towards Montague. "George no!"

READER'S P. O. V.

I came to the conclusion that we were already in trouble, so I might as well go for it and get Montague back.

Cassius saw that coming and held me back by my forearms, but Graham was being pushed against the table behind him in the blink of an eye.

It took us all aback the way George had stormed in scene; we stood there frozen for a hot second, until Bletchley realised Montague was trying to shake George off in vain while the Gryffindor threw blows at him whilst tackling him to the table.

"George! Stop!" Alicia yelled, coming to stand by my side, unsure of what to do.

"Get off him!" The keeper was the first one to try and remove George from Graham, whose face was starting to look as bloodied as mine. He did succeed for a split second, giving the Slytherin chaser enough room to get back at George.

I shook Cassius off the moment Montague jumped on George to aid the ginger, but before I could do anything, he was punching Graham again, though now he sported a swollen lip himself, along with a cut on his cheek, probably caused by Graham's rings.

This time, when Bletchley tried to shove him off Montague, he ended up with George's elbow digging into his stomach.

"He's gonna kill him!" Bell exclaimed, genuinely worried about the outcome.

"George!" I called his name, hoping it would have an effect, but the beater was too lost on the fight. "Wait— No!!" I tried to grab Cassius' hand when I saw him reaching for one of the heavy jars, but he was quicker to crash it on George's crown.

He hissed, losing balance instantly; his hands went to the back of his head, releasing Montague from his hold. My teammate took the opportunity to kick him off, but before he could try to punch George again, I reached to them, pulling the ginger away and not so accidentally stomping on my Montague in the process.

Just when everything seemed to have calmed down, I noticed Spinnet had thrown herself to Cassius.

Bell was struggling to tug her friend away, Cassius was being pulled back by a mildly hurt Bletchley, Montague was curled up in a ball on the floor and George and I stayed knelt not far from him while I checked his head.

It was only when Madam Rosmerta appeared with a towering, strong employee who managed to separate Spinnet and Warrington that it came to an end.

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

"Graham tried to use the Cruciatus curse on George, professor." I explained without meeting McGonagall's eyes. "And I stopped him."

"He— he what?!" The Head of Gryffindor yelled horrified.

"Miss Y/l/n, did you send Mister Montague to the hospital wing?" Snape questioned wearily.

"That was me." George replied before I could make anything up. "And Warrington broke a glass on my head."

"Spinnet tried to kill me!" Warrington shouted.

"If I had wanted to kill you, you'd be dead!" Alicia yelled back.

"Don't lie to yourself darling!" Bletchley hissed.

"Don't 'darling' her dickhead, I'll jump on you right here!" Bell spat, leaning over her table.

"Shut up, Bell!"

"ENOUGH!" McGonagall shouted. "Fifty points will be substracted from each of you. Your families will be informed of this, and needless to say you won't make any more trips to Hogsmeade."

"Minerva, I think Weasley has earned himself detention for the rest of the year." Snape commented.

"And so did Mister Montague and Miss Y/l/n." She responded. "Now off to sleep, all of you— except from Weasley and Y/l/n, you two go see Madam Pomfrey— no but's, Weasley."

"Yes professor." George sighed, getting up and following me out of the class and into the corridor. "You okay?" His voice was so soft as he fell into step with me that I had to refrain myself from kissing him.

"Nose's probably broken." I shrugged, stealing a look at his crown. "How's your head?"

"Hurts a bit." He was obviously playing it off, but I didn't say a thing about it. "I'm sorry for that little number."

"Nonsense! As if it was your fault Montague's a douche." I reassured him.

"So... you're not mad at me?"

"I'm only mad at the fact that I didn't get to punch him." I replied with a chuckle triggering a smile on his. "Plus," I chewed on my lower lip, hesitating for a moment before adding, "it was kinda hot."

George let out a shocked snort, his whole face redder than mine while words stumbled incoherently out of his mouth, preventing him from forming a coherent sentence.

"Don't do it again, though."

"Uh- yeah— NO- I mean, no- I-I won't— I don't do this often—" I giggled at his stammering and brushed his pinky with my own. He cleared his throat and took the hint, intertwining his fingers with mines. "You know, technically it was you who caused trouble so..."

"So?"

"Can I still buy you a drink?" He sheepishly requested, his thumb drawing circles on the back of my hand while we reached the hospital wing.

"We're banned from Hogsmeade, though." I reminded him.

"Well, I might know a way of getting there without being noticed."

"I'm in then." I stated. "Only if you promise we'll stay out of trouble."

"Can't promise that." He squeezed my hand and let it go when Madam Pomfrey spotted us. "But I'll do my best."

"I'm sure you will." I tugged on his sleeve and placed a kiss on his cheek before following the healer's directions.

[thetravelerwrites]

Urgan (Orc)

Rating: Mature Relationship: Male Human/Male Orc Additional Tags: Exophilia, Monster Boyfriend, Orc, Male Reader, MLM, Gay Reader, Football Captain, College, Friends to Lovers Content Warnings: Alcohol Poisoning, Children, Kids, Pregnancy, Unwanted Pregnacy, Mention of Abortion, College Drop-Out, Strong Language, Drug Use, Angst, Super Angst, ALL THE ANGST Words: 4385

A super duper angsty commission by the wonderful @severedreamerbeard​​! Urgan is the captain of his college football team and all around cool dude. He's an extremely reliable guy with his whole life ahead of him... until the woman he's been dating winds up pregnant, which turns his entire world upside down. The reader, Urgan's best friend, tries to help as much as he can while watching Urgan's life fall apart. Please reblog and leave feedback!

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Urgan had been your best friend since preschool. You were human and he was an orc, but you were both jocks growing up, both in sports, both athletic. He’d been there with you through all the major events in your life. He was there when your parents divorced, when you came out as gay in middle school, and when the teammates who had once been friends started bullying you because of it. He was always there.

You hoped you had been as good a friend to him as he had been to you. You were there when his dad died, when his mom remarried someone he hated, and when his highschool sweetheart cheated on him. After all that, the two of you were closer than brothers.

College life was easier on both of you. You both had gotten a sports scholarship and found a friend group that was a lot of fun to hang out with. Parties were epic, classes were less so, but you were living the life and loving every second of it.

Then it changed. Not for everyone, not even for you. Or at least, it didn’t have to. You could have made different choices. It would have been far easier if you had, you were sure. But…

“How long have you been dating Kelly?” You asked him over a beer. The two of you were sitting out on the front porch of a house party currently in full swing.

“Who?” He snorted, half-asleep. He’d pulled an all-nighter the day before preparing for his psych exam.

“Kelly,” You said, pointing into the open door at the girl wearing a halter with a half-empty vodka bottle in her hand, some of which she’d spilled on her chest, grinding on another girl who was sucking the vodka off of her clavicle.

“I wouldn’t say we’re ‘dating’,” He replied, throwing back a large swig of his beer. “Fucking, yes. I’m not trying to date anyone right now. I don’t have the time.” He threw his beer bottle into a large trash barrel and stood up. “Where’s Derek? He owes me fifty bucks.”

“For what?” You asked, standing up and following him through the house. He slapped Kelly’s ass as he passed her on the way inside, and she laughed.

“I borrowed it to buy coke three weeks ago,” He said.

“Didn’t he almost OD?” You asked.

“Yeah, but that ain’t my fault, I want my money,” Urgan said, muscling his way through the crowd.

“Don’t be an asshole, bro,” You said, still following him.

“I’m not being an asshole! It’s not like he learned anything, I bet you five bucks he’s doing coke right now.”

“Yeah, I’m not taking that bet,” You laughed. “I don’t know of a time when he’s not on coke. I think he was high when we first met.”

“That’s my point. You know I’m cool about that stuff normally, but it’s affecting his performance on the field,” Urgan grumbled. “I’m team captain, and if he doesn’t straighten up, I have to kick him off the team, friend or not. We lost to E.U. because of him.”

You grimaced. E.U. had been your school’s rival for generations. The loss hurt and was a huge blow to Urgan. It didn’t help that it was televised nationally.

“If you kick him off the team, the other guys will be pissed,” You reasoned.

“I know that,” He said grumpily. “But managing the team internally is my job. If I don’t do something about it, coach will either demote me or kick me off with him for not handling it when I should have. I can’t afford to lose my scholarship over some douchebag’s coke habit.” He made his way into the garage at the opposite end of the house and smacked a seated Derek on the back of the head. “Hey, Derek! Money! Now!”

“Dude, back off!” Derek protested. “I’ll get it to you when I get it, damn!”

“Not good enough,” Urgan said, kicking the mirror that was in front of Derek. Powder went flying.

“Hey!” Derek said, standing up and taking a swing at Urgan. Urgan ducked and caught Derek’s arm, pinning it behind him. He was always quick.

“Quit the coke or quit the team,” Urgan said, snarling. “We’re not losing another game because you’re too high to play.”

“The fuck are you talking about, man?” Derek said, struggling. “Don’t blame that shit on me! It’s not my fault you can’t organize your team!”

“I’m serious, dude,” Urgan said, pushing Derek to the ground. “I’m not getting punished for you. Straighten up or fuck off.”

“Suck my dick, asshole,” Derek said. He jerked his chin at you. “Or get your boyfriend to do it.”

Words like that were water off your back at this point, but it always riled Urgan up. You could already see him tensing.

“Let it go, dude,” You said, pulling him back. “Derek, seriously, you’re bringing the whole team down. Lay off the drugs, at least until after the championship.”

“Get the fuck out of my house if you’re going to act all high and mighty,” Derek said, pushing past you. “And you can forget that fifty bucks. It’s all over the ground now.”

Urgan’s fists were balled up and he was breathing hard.

“He’s not going to stop,” Urgan said.

“Come on, dude,” You said, smacking him on the shoulder. “You’re not going to accomplish anything here. Take it to the field. Show him why you’re captain.”

“I guess,” He said. “I’m hungry, man, let’s grab something.”

“Sure,” You said. “Kelly’s coming over to your place after the party, though, right?”

“Yeah, but she won’t be any shape to do anything but sleep. She knows where the key is, she’ll be fine.”

Finals were coming up, and most people were holed up in their rooms or dorms studying. Urgan was a decent student and never really worried about tests, though you hadn’t heard from him in a couple of days, which was odd. He could have been working a lot; he had a part-time job to pay for his own studio apartment. He said the dorms were too small for him.

“Urgan? No, I haven’t seen him in a week.” Joey said. Joey was a coworker from the bar where Urgan worked and also an ex-boyfriend of yours. You bumped into him at the university’s library while looking for Urgan. Urgan hadn’t answered his door when you went to check on him, so you figured he had to be here.

“Is he sick?” You asked, taking out your phone. You’d texted him awhile ago and you saw that he had seen it, but he hadn’t responded.

“I dunno,” Joey said. “All I know is that he asked the boss for some personal time. It could just be finals getting to him.”

You frowned. “Hmm… I’m going back to his apartment. He’s never been this quiet before. Something’s not right.”

“Tell him to come back to work. All the girls try to flirt with me when he’s not there. I need him to be my shield.”

You laughed and waved him off, heading out.

“Urgan!” You called, knocking insistently on his door. “Open the door! Are you alright?”

No answer. Frustrated, you got the spare key that was hidden in a slit of the doormat and unlocked the door. His apartment was dark and looked normal. Urgan was a fairly tidy guy, and nothing was really out of place.

“Urgan!” You called again, walking around the partition that obscured his bed. There he was, passed out on top of his blankets. There were empty bottles of liquor everywhere. Your heart stopped.

“Oh, fuck, please don’t be dead,” You said, crawling on the bed to slap him in the face. “Urgan, wake up!” His skin was cold, which scared the shit out of you, but after a minute feeling for a pulse on his neck you found a heartbeat, and you could see him breathing very slowly, so at least he was alive. But he wasn’t responding to your attempts to rouse him.

“Shit.” You took out your phone and called and called emergency services.

“911, what’s the nature of your emergency?”

“Hey, I need an ambulance, I think my friend has alcohol poisoning.” You said quickly, hoping it was intelligible, and gave them the address.

“Okay, sir, how long has this been going on?”

“I’m not sure, I just found him. I haven’t heard from him in days. He’s got a pulse, but he won’t wake up.”

“Is he cold to the touch?”

“Yes.”

“Is he breathing?”

“Slowly, but yes.”

“Can you make sure his airway is clear?”

You put the phone down and opened his mouth. There didn’t seem to be anything in the way.

“It’s clear,” You said.

“Alright, sir, I’ve got an ambulance on the way. Do me a favor and turn him on his side and bend the leg that’s on the top. Keep his airway clear and keep an eye on his breathing.”

“Okay,” You said, doing as the operator said and trying to keep calm.

The ambulance arrived within minutes, and after several moments of the EMTs attempting to wake him and failing, they loaded him in the rig. You were able to ride with him to the hospital. They took you both to a room, and you stood back as they began hooking Urgan up to all sorts of tubes and wires. They put a tube in his mouth because his breathing was weak and slowing down. They put him on a heavy saline drip and debated whether or not to pump his stomach. Eventually, they left him to rest and you sat with him.

“What the fuck is happening with you, man?” You asked him quietly as he slept.

Eventually, you fell asleep, and when you woke up, they were taking the air tube out of his throat. Urgan was awake and groaning in discomfort as it was removed.

“Dude, what the hell?” You said, standing up.

His eyes were bloodshot and he looked extremely sick, but at least he was awake. He waited for the doctors and the nurses to leave so that it was just you and him before he answered you.

“Kelly’s pregnant,” He said hoarsely. “It’s mine. She’s sure of it.”

“Oh, shit,” You said, sitting back down in the chair next to him. “I thought you used protection.”

“I do,” He said in frustration. “The condom must have broken or something. She told me she was on the pill. I don’t know what happened. I’m so fucking screwed.”

“You may not be,” You said, trying to comfort him, but you knew he was right. Being team captain meant that you put the team before everything. If you had another priority, you couldn’t be team captain. Not to mention the scandal of having a kid during the height of his college career would destroy his reputation and make him seem irresponsible. A baby right now was going to ruin him.

“Don’t bullshit me. I can’t show my face at school. Coach is going to kick my ass as soon as he finds out. My life is over.”

“Don’t talk like that, man,” You said. “What’s Kelly saying about all this? Has she told anyone?”

“No, not yet,” He said, covering his eyes. “Well, she hadn’t when I started drinking, but I don’t know if she has now.”

“She wants to keep it?”

“I don’t know. I didn’t get farther than ‘I’m having a baby and it’s yours’. And then I just started drinking and didn’t stop.”

“How far along is she?”

“Three months, she said.”

“How does she know it’s yours?”

“I was the only person she was sleeping with at the time. We were thinking about dating seriously, but it didn’t work out that way.”

“Do you believe that?”

“I don’t know. We’ll find out, I guess.”

You frowned deeply. “She’s… been partying pretty hard in the last three months.”

Urgan rubbed his face. “I know. I’m scared shitless the kid is going to be born fucked up.”

“Do you… think you can talk her into giving it up? For adoption, I mean? She doesn’t seem like mom material.”

“I don’t know,” He said. “I don’t know what she’ll do.”

“What about…” You hesitated to mention it. “What about an abortion?”

“That’s her decision,” He said vaguely. “It’s her body.”

“Do you want me to talk to her?”

“No, don’t,” He said. “I’ll do it when I’ve got my head on right.”

“Dude, look where you are right now,” You said, gesturing vaguely. “Let me at least call her.”

He sighed. “Fine.”

You took Urgan’s phone, which was in his back pocket when he was brought in, and called Kelly. She was surprised to hear about Urgan’s condition and said she’d come up to the hospital.

She arrived an hour later and you gave them some privacy to talk. It was a while, so you went to grab a soda. When you came back, Kelly was leaving with tears on her face. You went in and saw Urgan sitting up in bed. His eyes were red from crying.

“Hey man, are you okay?”

“No,” He said, wiping his face and sniffing. “She’s going to keep it. I’m leaving school.”

“What?” You said, coming around. “What are you talking about?”

“I’m gonna finish out the semester but I’m leaving before the baby is born. I have to find a better job. I’m hoping I can come back when the baby is a bit older, like when they start school or something, and finish my degree.”

“But you only have a year left! Are you sure this is what you want to do?”

“No!” He shouted. “I don’t want to leave school! I’ve been dreaming of this scholarship since I was a kid! It was my dad’s dream! But I’m not going to be a deadbeat! I have to find a decent job before the baby is born. I don’t have a choice.”

You were stunned to silence and just listen to him breathe through his tears.

“Are you and Kelly staying together?”

“Fuck no,” He said vehemently. “We both know that would be stupid. She’s going to stay in school as long as she can. She’s supposed to be due in winter sometime, so I should have enough saved up by then to give her for the baby, to make sure they’re comfortable.” He scowled. “I’m sure Derek is going to be thrilled. I can just see the look on his face now.”

“Don’t worry about that jackass,” You said. “Dude, I… Is there anything I can do to help out?”

He shook his head. “Kelly and I are going to keep this quiet until the end of the semester so that we don’t have to deal with anyone bullshit. After that, we’ll start telling people.”

“You’re not going to tell your mom?”

“Not yet. I can’t face her yet. She’s going to be so disappointed in me.” His tears began to fall again, and all you could do was put a hand on his shoulder and be there for him.

“I won’t say anything to anyone,” You told him. “I’m still your best friend, no matter what. If you need anything, you know I got you.”

“Thanks, man,” He said, his voice breaking.

Urgan finished out school as he planned, barely scraping a passing grade, and then notified everyone that he wouldn’t be returning. As expected, his coach was furious, his mom was disappointed, and the team was dumbfounded. Derek was the only person who seemed to be enjoying the situation.

During summer, he asked for an amniocentesis, both to prove whether or not Urgan was the father, and also to check for any genetic conditions, since Kelly’s family had a history of genetic diseases. Urgan was hoping that she was lying about only sleeping with him around the time she conceived and that he would wind up not the father so he could go back to school, but the test was conclusive. The baby was his.

Urgan found work pretty quickly at a seafood processing plant near town. It was grueling work and it didn’t pay much, but it was a full-time job and had healthcare benefits, which was the best he could hope for in these circumstances. He began saving immediately to buy clothes and diapers for his kid, which he recently found out was a little girl, and was in frequent contact with Kelly. He didn’t attend any of the doctor’s visits at Kelly’s request. Not that he wanted to be there in the first place.

You continued with college and partied like a normal college guy, stayed on the football team, and was promoted to captain. Urgan seemed happy for you and gave you pointers on leadership. If he resented you for it, he gave no sign.

Many of Urgan’s old friends, mostly team members, dropped him immediately. They no longer invited him to parties or events, and when you mentioned inviting him, they shot you down. As far as you knew, the only one who still stood by him was you, and you couldn’t be there as much as you wanted to as you now had responsibilities with the team.

Even still, if he called, you dropped what you were doing and went over. You promised you’d be there, and you were going to keep that promise. He was your best friend and you were going to stand with him. No matter what.

Urgan’s daughter, Roga, was born in November. She was small, even for a half-orc. You were there in the waiting room for the birth with the grandparents. It might have been your presence that stopped them from being at each other’s throats; the animosity in the air was palpable. Kelly’s dad was there, looking not-best-pleased at Urgan’s mom, despite her being nearly twice his size, but no harsh words were said.

Urgan came out in the full paper surgical outfit, holding the baby. He even seemed happy.

“Here she is,” He said, holding her out for the grandparents to see.

“Oh, isn’t she precious,” Urgan’s mom, Reana, said. “She’s got your eyes, Urg.”

“Yeah,” He said, smiling. “She looks a bit like dad, don’t you think?”

“She does!” Reana said brightly. “That nose definitely looks like his.”

The grandparents took turns holding the baby, and then went in to see the mother.

“Hey,” Urgan said to you, the only one left in the room. “Do you want to hold her?”

You chuckled nervously. “I dunno, man, I’ve never held a baby.”

“Neither have I, before today,” He said. “You don’t have to. I just wanted to offer since everyone else got to.”

“Yeah, but they’re family.”

“You’re family, too,” He said, looking at you like you were being an idiot.

You smiled a little and held out your arms, and Urgan carefully lay the baby into them. She was small and squishy and her face was all wrinkly. Babies all looked like potatoes to you. But she reached out and yawned and grabbed at your hand, and you couldn’t help but smile.

“She’s cute,” You said, letting her grip your finger.

“Yeah,” He said, grinning.

“How’s Kelly?”

“She hates my guts, but she’s okay.” Urgan reached out to take the baby, and you handed her over. “I should take Roga back. The lactation specialist wants to work with her.”

“I didn’t know there was a such thing as a lactation specialist,” You said with a laugh.

“Oh, yeah,” Urgan said. “The last nine months have been extremely informative.”

You snorted. “I bet.”

He took the baby back to Kelly and you sat in the waiting room, feeling a little awkward. Why were you here? You weren’t really family. You knew you were supporting Urgan, but… he didn’t really need you there right now. He seemed fine. Happy even, considering the circumstances. Maybe… maybe you should go. You really didn’t belong here.

You texted Urgan to let him know something had come up and to call you if you needed him, and he told you that it was okay, and to be careful going home. As you left, you sighed in relief. But you also felt a little guilty.

Six months later was graduation. You finished top of your class and made valedictorian. You knew that if Urgan had still been in school, he’d have gotten that honor, but…

Urgan didn’t come to graduation, and you understood why. Kelly crossed the stage and accepted her diploma, and you couldn’t help feel a little resentful at her, despite the fact that it wasn’t her fault that Urgan wasn’t there, either. They really had done everything they were supposed to do--used protection, used birth control, was careful--but things just happen sometimes. Even still, it felt like Urgan was the one who had sacrificed the most and had gotten nothing in return.

You managed to get a job at an accounting firm almost immediately after graduation. It was a boring job but the money was good. You were hoping it would be a stepping stone to a better career later.

Since getting the job, you hadn’t really seen or spoken to Urgan much. You were still his best friend, but… you had your own life to live. You felt guilty about it, but your world couldn’t stop just because his had.

Urgan was still working at the fish processing plant, working long hours to support Roga. Urgan was basically paying Kelly’s rent and bills plus everything Roga needed for both homes, since he took her on the weekends from Friday night to Monday morning, when he dropped her off on the way to work.

However, a month after graduation, Urgan called you in a panic.

“Kelly’s gone,” He said. “She’s left. I got a text from her saying she’s gone to Canada.”

“What?” You asked in disbelief. “Did she take Roga?”

“No, I’ve got her here.” He said, his voice shaking. “When she texted me, I was scared she had run off with the baby, but she left Roga with her stepdad. I just picked her up and I’m bringing her back home with me.”

You felt terrible for hoping Kelly had taken Roga with her to Canada. Even though you knew it wasn’t Roga’s fault, all you wanted was for Urgan’s life to go back to normal. You just wanted him to have the things he should have had if Roga hadn’t been born. And you hated yourself for thinking that.

“Are you okay?”

“I don’t know,” He said. He sounded extremely distressed. “Can you meet me at my apartment, please? I need someone to talk to. You’re all I have left.”

“Yeah, of course, I’ll be right there,” You said, picking up your keys.

“Thank you,” He said, and then hung up. He was audibly crying.

You made it to Urgan’s apartment before he did, and you saw him step out of the elevator carrying a ton of baby stuff in one arm and hauling Roga in her carseat in the other.

“Can you take her, please?” Urgan said. He looked pale and in shock.

“Yeah, of course,” You said, taking her carrier and looking inside. She was sleeping with a stuffed griffon clutched in her baby hands. “Is she okay?”

“I think so,” He said, unlocking his door. His apartment was strewn with kid stuff. It was so much different than the last time you’d seen it.

“I’m sorry about the mess,” He said, dropping the load he was carrying in the middle of the floor.

“Dude, I don’t care about the mess, are you okay?” You asked.

“I…” He ran his fingers through his hair. He was visibly shaking. “I don’t know if I can do this alone. I had accepted being a dad, but I don’t know if I can be… the only parent. I… I don’t know any babysitters for when I’m working. I don’t… is she off breastmilk? When was her last check up? When is she supposed to see the doctor again? Kelly didn’t tell me those things because I.. I figured she had it handled. I was making sure they had everything they needed. I didn’t think I’d…”

“Okay, calm down,” You said. “Roga is fine. You can find all of that stuff out. I’ll help, I’ll help however I can, okay?”

“Okay,” He said, sitting on his couch heavily. “Okay.” He reached down into her carseat and unstrapped her, putting her against his shoulder, clutching her as if she was a warm stone and he was freezing. He was certainly shaking like he was.

This was the first time you’d seen Roga since she was born. Now that she’d had a chance to grow, she did look a lot like Urgan. It made you feel worse for resenting her.

“Look, can you watch her for a few minutes?” He asked suddenly. “I’m almost out of formula and I didn’t expect to have her right now. I was going to go Thursday to stock up. I don’t want to run out.”

“I…” You hesitated.

“Please,” He begged quietly. “Please. Ten minutes. I promise.”

You sighed. “Okay.”

He transferred Roga from his shoulder to yours. Uncertainly, you gripped her firmly.

“I’ll be right back, I promise,” Urgan said, and he was out the door.

There was a rocking bassinet near Urgan’s bed behind the divider, and you settled Roga in it, staring down at her peacefully sleeping form.

“I wish I didn’t hate you,” You told her, tears welling up in your eyes and falling down your cheeks. “But you took everything from him. I know it’s not your fault, but it doesn’t change anything. He’ll never be the man he should have been because of you.”

Roga sighed in her sleep and snugged into her bed without waking. You did nothing but sit on Urgan’s bed and stare at her the entire time Urgan was gone, allowing yourself to hate her and Kelly and the team at school and everyone who turned their back on Urgan when he needed them the most. When Urgan returned, your tears had dried, and you left.

Roga was still sleeping.

Since my work is no longer searchable, please do me a favor and reblog this story if you enjoyed it. Help me reach a wider audience! To help me continue creating, please consider becoming a Patron or donating directly to my PayPal!

Thanks for reading!

My Masterlist

The Exophilia Creator’s Masterlist

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Everything Was White Part 13

[see all chapters]

read on: [ffn] / [ao3]

General Warning: From this point on this fic is going to deal with reoccurring themes that may be triggering to some. Please check out the ao3 tags if you’re unsure.

---

Muffled voices pulled him from the comfort of unconsciousness, shaking his mind awake despite his feeble attempts to brush them off. For a moment, he thought about trying to tell the voices to keep it down, but that would have been too much effort, and he was so comfortable in this blanket and pillow…

…

…

...the voices rose in volume, this time gaining clarity, shape. Almost words. Close, but not quite. Not yet. Danny wasn’t ready. Five more minutes, he was so tired…

“...Danny…”

Wait.

What was that?

His eyes fluttered open, and he immediately took stock of his unfamiliar surroundings. He was...not in his bedroom. He was in his living room, on the couch where he must have fallen asleep after his almost mental breakdown over a glass of water.

How embarrassing. Danny hoped that no one spotted the water glass on the rug. Or, if they had, they hadn’t thought anything about it. Hadn’t figured out that it was on the floor because Danny tried to get water from the sink without using his wheelchair.

Maybe they wouldn’t connect the dots. Honestly, the thought of seeing that pitying expression on their faces as they watched him fail to do a stupidly simple task made him want to fall into a coma.

Oh well. He was awake now. Might as well go get something to eat to make his family and therapists proud.

Just as he was about to toss the blanket off his body, Jazz’s quiet voice sounded from the kitchen. “You can’t keep the truth from him forever.”

“We can, at least for now,” his dad said.

“It’s not going to work.”

Danny froze, the last of his fatigue zapped from his brain.

What truth? What were they talking about? What was going on in there?

He debated standing up and announcing his presence, but the blossoming sense of dread in his gut kept him still.

Whatever was going on, he had a sinking feeling that it was about him.

His mother spoke up. “We have to. It’s for his own safety.”

“It’s wrong,” Jazz countered. “It’s wrong to keep secrets like this.”

“I know, Jazz. But if we told Danny, he…”

His eyes widened, his breath catching in his throat.

Tell him what? 

“Jazz, you have to understand. With Danny in the position that he’s in right now, there are just certain limitations that we need in this house in order to stay on top of his recovery,” Jack explained.

“But cutting him off from his core?”

It was as if he were punched in the gut. He clenched the blanket, balling the edges in his fists. His instincts were screaming at him to jump up and demand the truth, but he buried that part of him back down inside his mind.

They would never tell him. They didn’t trust him enough. He wasn’t human enough.

But they always trusted Jazz. They favored her. She was the ideal child with her perfect grades, perfect ambitions, perfect brain.

Even if they wouldn’t tell him, of course they would tell her. 

“We have to do it, honey. We have no choice,” Maddie said.

“You see how he’s reacting to this though, right? He’s not himself.”

“We know, but it’s what needs to be done. He can’t be given access to his core, not right now.”

Why though, Dad? Tell me why...

“This is cruel,” Jazz said.

There was a brief pause, each second like a knife in Danny’s chest. He wanted so badly to snap, but he forced himself to stay still. To stay silent.

To listen.

There was a sigh, and Maddie broke the silence. “You have no idea how much it hurts us to see him like this. We know it isn’t right to keep a ghost from its core but...at the school that day. Jazz, I’ve never seen him like that. And it terrified me.”

Danny felt his blood drain from his face. His body turned ice cold.

He knew what they were talking about, and he assumed that that day was a distant memory in the past, something that would never be talked about again. And yet, here his parents were, digging up the most humiliating moment in Danny’s life, throwing it at his face like a weapon of why he couldn’t possibly be allowed his ghost half, why he needed to be shut off from himself.

“He’s come a long way since then.”

“Not long enough.”

They didn’t know. They didn’t understand what it was like. They weren’t there, they weren’t the ones who were cut open, who were beaten, who spent all day in and out looking at white walls, white floors, white suits, white ceilings, white equipment.

He hadn’t been himself that day at the school. He’d just come home from the hospital, he was coming off of a cocktail of heavy pain medication, he was physically exhausted from the PT and mentally exhausted from everything else. 

Okay, so he snapped in the locker room. He’d been pushed back into school, pushed into being around people, pushed into acting normal, like nothing was wrong, and the world was warping around him and he just fell apart. He freaked out, he broke a mirror, Dash and Kwan found him, and he paid the consequences for it.

“I don’t think he’d do that again.”

“You don’t know that, Jazz.”

“But his Obsession—”

“It’s protection. Phantom will make him do whatever it can in order to protect itself. Even if that means…”

It. 

The word echoed in Danny’s head.

You’re an it.

Something inside him cracked.

His vision glazed over, and suddenly the two students in Casper he’d hoped to never cross paths with again were standing over him, approaching cautiously, as if he were a wounded animal.

“Give me the glass, Danny,” Dash had said. “You don’t need it. Just give it to me, I’ll hang onto it for you. I’ll keep it safe.”

He looked down, and blood trickled through his fingers, splattering onto the white tile.

It was red. Why was it red?

Crack.

Maddie’s voice faded back into his consciousness. “We just can’t risk it.”

“So what, your genius idea is to keep lying to him about why you won’t take the chip out? Feed him some bullshit excuse about the lab? Danny’s a human but he’s also a ghost! You can’t keep him from his core and expect him to turn out okay!”

“We know that.”

“No, you clearly don’t!”

“Keep your voice down, hun. He’s asleep.”

“Then stop lying to him. Tell him the real reason why you won’t give him Phantom back.”

Danny couldn’t breathe.

His parents. The people who had gone to court for him, who fought so hard to get him home, who assured him that they’d go to the moon and back if it meant keeping him safe. 

He trusted them.

And they...they just…

Crack.

“You know we can’t do that,” his father said. “You said it yourself, Danny’s just as much human as he is ghost. Ghosts don’t have the capacity to think rationally about something like that.”

They just…

“Kwan, get Lancer.”

He didn’t understand. Why were those two here?

“Please, give me the mirror, Danny.”

No, they didn’t get it. He needed this. This was the only thing he could do, it was the only way out. He couldn’t let Operative O take his body again.

“Danny...”

They were afraid, he realized. They thought he was going to hurt them. He was a rabid animal, wasn’t he? And they thought he would attack them?

Another drop of blood splashed onto the tile.

Crack.

Jazz scoffed. “I cannot believe you would just—”

“He’s fragile, Jazz!” Maddie protested. “Whatever happened in the government facility changed him. He’s not the same boy he used to be, something inside him is fundamentally different now. Frankly, we have no idea how that has affected his Obsession.”

His head spun.

They lied to him.

“What, so the better option is to just cut him off from his core altogether and force him to play human all day? Great plan, Mom.”

“If that’s what we need to do to keep him safe, then yes, that is the better option.”

The mirror shattered, the pieces raining down, echoing as they bounced against the tiles. He watched with unfocused eyes as everything around him crumbled.

His heart pounded in his ears, drowning out the arguing voices in the kitchen. He fell to the floor and clutched a broken shard. 

He needed...he needed to...

Protect.

Danny saw red. 

His lips moved before he could stop them. “I thought you’d accepted me.”

The argument from the kitchen came to a screeching halt. 

“Danny! I didn’t—”

“No!” Danny pushed himself to a seated position. 

They kept him from his core on purpose. 

His parents, after all those painstaking hours in family therapy, all that talk about how they were a team and how they needed to work together, had lied to him.

They weren’t a team. They had never been a team. Danny was just…

He was just a ghost to them.

An irrational, stupid, ectoplasmic creature. 

They scrambled from the kitchen, moving into the living room with fear strewn across their faces. 

They hate ghosts. You know this, Fenturd. They hate you.

“We do accept you, Danno. We love you.”

They didn’t love him.

“We were just trying to protect you. Please understand, Danny,” Maddie begged.

They’re scared of you. They don’t know what it means to protect. They’re lying.

“Danny, you need to understand—”

“SHUT UP!” Danny gripped his hair with his hands, covering his ears to quiet the hurricane of emotions devastating his mind. “Shut up, shut up!” 

He didn’t know whether to laugh, scream, or cry. After all this talk, his parents had never accepted him as a ghost at all.

“I’m so sorry, son,” Jack said.

“I can’t—I can’t!” Danny spat out. He had a thousand different responses swirling through his brain, so many things he wanted to say, but he couldn’t. His brain wasn’t working, his voice wasn’t working, and everything he saw was painted in blood.

They lied to him.

“I—you—”

“Danny, you need to breathe,” Jazz said, but Danny could recognize that tone. That was the same voice she used when trying to calm down the neighbor’s hyperactive dog that had a bad habit of finding ways out of its fence.

Danny ripped his head out of his arms, swiveling up to meet the concerned gazes of his family. “Shut up! I’m not a fucking dog!”

“Danny, I never—”

“Stop treating me like a fucking animal! I’m not—I’m not!” Danny attempted to grip the coffee table to push himself up, but he only succeeded in falling back onto the couch. He cursed and blinked away the mist that clouded his vision because he was not crying right now. His parents did not get to see that.

Maddie jumped forward. “Careful!”

“No, shut the fuck up!” Danny yelled. “You don’t get to—to be concerned! You don’t get that!”

Maddie stepped back, looking as if someone slapped her across the face.

“Danny, please, calm down,” Jack tried.

If anything, the red lining in his vision only deepened. “No! I won’t, and you don’t—don’t—ah!” Danny hit his forehead with his hand, frustration clawing at his throat.

There was so much he wanted to say, but he physically couldn’t get it out. He couldn’t stand, he couldn’t talk, he could only sit here drowning in rage.

His body was betraying him.

His parents could fix this right now if they wanted to. They could take him down to the lab, remove the chip, give Danny any semblance of freedom back. They could do that.

But they stood there doing nothing. 

They like you like this. Helpless. Grounded. Easy to control.

“You lied to me! You knew—you fucking—my core isn’t even damaged, is it?”

Jack wrapped his arm around Maddie, who hadn’t even bothered to wipe away the tears that had spilled on her cheeks.

Because of him.

They hate you. 

“Is it?” Danny pressed, but he didn’t need a response. He knew the answer. He knew the truth.

It was written all over his parents' faces.

“Was my core ever damaged? At all?”

“It was, but—”

Danny shook his head in disbelief. “Cores are self-re—self-regenerating. I—I knew that. I knew that! It—it was healed before I left the hospital, right?”

His parents refused to meet his eyes.

“You lied to me. All this time, and—and you...you just…” Danny tried to stand up again, but failed. “I’m so fucking sick of this!”

“Danny, please understand. We only did it because we needed to protect you.”

“Protect me?” He let out a sardonic laugh. “You thought—you seriously thought you were—you were fucking protecting me? Do you not...even see? I can’t—I can’t even fucking stand up! I can’t stand! I can’t do anything! And you thought you were protecting me? Are you serious?”

Jack’s lips thinned. “Danny, do you not realize how close we were to losing you? And I don’t mean to the government. You blasted a school mirror and then tried to use one of the pieces to kill yourself! I mean, come on, son!”

Danny lurched back, stunned. “I wasn’t trying to kill myself!”

“Then what were you trying to do, huh?” Jack shouted back. “Because not even a few hours after we dropped you off back at school, we get a call from Mr. Lancer saying a few students found you in the locker room threatening suicide because you thought you were back with the government! What do you expect us to think, Danny? We’re your parents.”

“Shut up!” Danny squeezed his eyes shut, trying to block out the flashes of memory that threatened to surface.

“Jack—”

“No, Maddie—”

They hate you. 

His throat burned. “Shut up!” 

It wasn’t fair. His parents weren’t being fair. That incident—that was a fluke. An anomaly. And yet they were punishing Danny for something that happened weeks ago, before he went through the painstaking ordeal of inpatient and psychiatry and the PHP and the whole other host of therapies he’d been forced into.

“What was the point in sending me to—to inpatient then? If you were just going to keep treating me like a stupid animal?”

“Danny, we’re not treating you like an animal.”

“You sure as hell got me caged up like one!”

“Don’t talk to your mother that way!”

“Jack, honey—”

“Everyone, please calm down!”

“Stay out of this, Jazz!”

“Danny, I think—”

“I don’t care what you think!”

“Guys—”

“I NEED MY CORE!” Danny screamed, the sob finally tearing its way out of his throat.

His family fell into a deafening silence, and Danny could feel their stares as ugly sobs overtook him, ripping down any semblance of an emotional wall he’d managed to construct over these weeks.

His tears boiled on his skin, and he dug his hands in his hair in a desperate attempt to ground himself. But it didn’t matter, his body shook uncontrollably, his emotions burning through his throat leaving him gasping for air.

All while his parents stood there ten feet away from him. Frozen, unwilling to approach. Because he was a halfa, a monster, broken, unstable, trapped, feared. He was the demon that parents warned their children about, the thing that his parents had dedicated their careers to developing weapons against, a creature so dangerous that the government had funded an entire group to research and exterminate.

And up until two months ago, it was legal for him to be vivisected, to be experimented on, to be tortured to the point of paralysis.

He rocked back and forth, struggling to piece himself back together. And when he could make it through a shuddering breath without breaking down again, all he could do was croak out, “Why…”

His parents remained unmoving, faces pale, arms by their sides. Tears streaked his mother’s and sister’s cheeks, and his father’s unblinking gaze bore down on him.

But their silence wasn’t good enough, their sorrow and tears weren’t good enough. An invisible wall was growing between them with each passing second and they couldn’t even see it.

They know. They’re doing it on purpose. They don’t care about you.

“Why?” Danny insisted. “How could—how could you...how could you do this to me? I’m...I just…”

“We had to, son,” his father said. The moonlight cast a shadow over his face. “It was for your own safety.”

No. Danny was done with the lies. Done with the excuses. 

He was done.

Flaring his eyes, he bit back, “My safety, or yours?” 

His parents flinched, and Danny couldn’t find himself to care. They’d lied to him, they’d dug their hole, so now they had to live in it.

“Danny, please…” Jazz stepped forward. “Don’t do this.”

“No! You—don’t you get it?” Danny pleaded. “I can’t—Mom, Dad, I feel like a prisoner. I’m trapped in my body. I can’t—I can’t live like this anymore! I can’t fucking do it! You have no idea...and you don’t even care!”

“Of course we care, Danno.”

“Then why? Tell me the truth! Please, tell me why because—” His voice broke, and his head fell back into his hands. “Please...tell me why…”

Jack sighed. “It was just the decision we felt we needed to make. It wasn’t easy, it wasn’t something we did because we wanted to hurt you. We love you, son. And we just wanted to know that you were safe.”

“We love you so much, sweetie.”

But they were blind because he wasn’t safe. And he was never going to be safe again. There would always be someone out there who had power over him, who wanted to control and erase him.

If they loved you, they would have listened.

They’re scared of you.

He glanced up to see Jack putting his arm around Maddie, pulling her in close. Jazz stood behind them, allowing their shadows to overtake her body.

Jazz said something, but Danny wasn’t listening. He didn’t care. He was trapped and completely alone. There would be no protests, no online petitions, and no jury on his side. No one to rescue him.

“Then give it—give me my core back.”

Jack shook his head. “I’m sorry son. We’ve made our decision.”

“I’ll find a way,” Danny insisted. “I know some ghosts. I’ll get them to—to take it out. You can’t...you—you can’t stop me.”

“Danny, I don’t think even Frostbite could—”

“You don’t know that, Jazz! He could—he could do it. He would figure it out if I asked.” 

His parents exchanged a look, one reminiscent of the exasperation when Danny would tell them that the detention hadn’t been his fault, that he did try to do the homework assignment, that he would try harder next time.

They didn’t believe him.

“He’ll do it,” he reiterated. 

“Danny, we’re not going to let any ghosts near you right now.”

“Like that ever worked before,” he retorted.

There was a pregnant pause, and Danny looked away. He felt nauseous, and anxiety speared through his chest.

“Please, I can’t—I can’t live like this. I can’t…” 

He knew how desperate he sounded, but for once he didn’t care. His parents were going to kill him by keeping his core locked up. 

Right now it was about self-preservation. If he couldn’t protect himself, it was over.

“Graduate from the PHP program first,” Maddie finally said. “Once you’re back in school, then we can talk, alright? We’ll talk about...about removing the chip.”

Danny whipped his head up, his eyes searching for any signs that she was lying, that she was going to pull the rug out from under him again.

But her face betrayed nothing.

“Graduate?” Danny breathed. “I just have to...graduate?”

“Yes. Show us that you’re okay enough to go back to school, and you can have your ghost half back.”

“I…” He tugged at his hair. “But that’s...that’s weeks…’

Maddie crossed her arms. “Those are my terms.”

Time slowed, and the distance between them only seemed to grow. He knew he was already behind leaving the PHP center that he was almost certain there was talk of shoving him back into inpatient.

But they didn’t get it. It wasn’t his fault, it was the government stalking him. It was Vlad. He had no choice, and he would never be able to graduate PHP. Not without his core.

“I—but—but, Mom. I need—”

“Son,” his dad said sharply. “I understand how difficult this is for you, but you’re not in a place where we can trust you right now. This is our compromise. Show us we can trust you, and you can have your freedom back.”

His eyes stung, and his throat was starting to squeeze shut.

No…

“Do we have a deal?”

This was impossible.

Even if Frostbite had a way of removing the chip, Danny had no way of finding him. Not without Clockwork’s interference, who didn’t seem to have any interest in contacting Danny as of late. 

The thought of Clockwork left a sour taste in Danny’s mouth. He hadn’t thought of the ancient ghost since his nights in the government compound, his body splayed out like a rag doll, shivering from shock. He remembered staring into the pitch black abyss around him begging for Clockwork to come help him.

But his calls were never answered.

Danny knew Clockwork could have freed him whenever he wanted, government ghost shields be damned. But he didn’t. And that made him just as guilty as everyone else.

And now Danny was alone, bound by his human physiology and his ghost hunter parents.

He had no choice.

“Okay. It’s—it’s a deal.”

---

His body was cold, dead, with waves of trembling coming in and out in spurts. Every breath hurt, and he wasn’t sure if it was because of the burning in his chest, the soreness in his throat, or the way the alien warmth in his core seemed more overbearing than ever. 

He could feel it, the hand reaching between his ribs, gripping his core with its warm, gloved fingers. It was revolting, violating, how the hands invaded his body, tearing off his skin and ribs as if he were nothing but a rotting carcass.

He felt dizzy. Lightheaded. He put a hand on his chest, crinkling his shirt in his fist. It was his core, he needed to protect it. 

But he was useless. Nothing. He was at the mercy of his parents who were all but holding a loaded gun to his head while telling him to trust them. Who lied to him that they accepted him, that they were there for him. 

That they loved him.

He was stupid, so stupid. After all the months of hearing them enthusiastically discuss the ways they’d love to rip him apart, what made him think they’d love him just like that? 

Their acceptance was conditional, and their conditions were impossible for him to meet. How the hell did they expect him to graduate from PHP and reenter society like a normal person while they were drowning his core like this? Did they not see how badly he was suffocating? How much he was screaming, thrashing in the ocean for air, desperately trying to fight the undertow pulling him further and further away from his sanity?

He wasn’t going to make it. He was going to fail, he was going to drown. He couldn’t do this.

But there’s one way, a small voice in his head whispered. You’ve done it before and you were fine. It helped you.

His eyes trailed over to his nightstand with his old model rocket sitting proudly on top. He had never flushed the oxycodone. 

Maybe…maybe…

It can help you again.

He just needed to graduate the PHP program and he would get his core back and then everything would be okay. He could work on his problems the right way later. The way he was supposed to be doing it, that he couldn’t do right now because he was still missing half of himself.

Two weeks. That was all he needed. Just two weeks worth of medication, and then he’d be on his way.

You need this.

He pushed himself up as if he were a puppet on strings. Everything was bleak, gray-washed and oppressive. Nausea rolled over him in waves and a hand gripped his throat, pulling the oxygen from his body.

The nightstand glowed in the moonlight, and like a moth Danny felt himself drawn closer to it. Tunnel vision took over, and the world morphed into a series of photos in a time lapse. Snapshot after snapshot flickered past his eyes until a hand—his hand—was pulling the drawer open to reveal an orange bottle inside.

You’re ready.

He couldn’t live like this anymore.

The fear, the anxiety, his core. It was all so much easier before, back in the hospital. Back when the only thing he had to worry about was what constellation he was going to draw that day. Back before he had to face the public, his family, or Vlad. Back before he knew that the government had his phone tapped and was watching his every move.

Back before he knew that his freedom was only temporary.

He was a sitting duck, a kid trapped in no man’s land with no weapon, no armor, nothing to keep him alive.

“Two weeks,” he whispered. Two weeks and then he would be okay. He would graduate from PHP, he would get to go back to school, he would become a regular person again. He just needed to get there first.

He opened the bottle and shook out a small white pill into the palm of his hand.

Two weeks.

Tilting his head back, he tossed the pill into his mouth, took a sip of water, and swallowed.

There. 

It was done.

---

Thank you @imekitty for beta-ing the fic as well as helping me organize my plot better!

Thanks for reading!

---

<previous chapter / next chapter>

[omg-im-such-a-masochist]

ILLICITUS: CHAPTER 1

Prompt: Y/N is a respectful narcotics agent, she worked hard to have her work recognized in a prominently male work field. She‘s assigned to the most important case of her whole career, investigate and apprehend the biggest drug dealer of U.S.A, the only thing she didn’t count on, was for the bastard to be so damn charming.

Word count: Long-ish

Pairing: Mob!Roman Reigns x Reader

Warnings: +18, Illegal substances, cursing (that’s all for now)

Tagging: @ziasaph , @reigns-5sos, @mindofasagittaruis , @jibbles26 . I’m also tagging these lovely humans(although they didn’t ask for it 👉👈, but they’re opinion is very important to me as well 💕) @blondekel77, @akiko-tanaka, @drew-is-boo , @drewmcintyrekoccsrocbwdgfan, @new-zealand-chic

Notes: I’ve had this idea for a few weeks now, and decided to give it a shot. This is originally planned to be a series, but we’ll see how this goes...I’ve always loved crime themed stories, so this is dedicated to my profound love for crime series. Y’all know the drill loves,sorry for misspellings,english isn’t my first language (bla bla bla),check out my other stories if you’d like to(it would make your girl here very happy 😊) and if you’re comfortable with it,please let me know what you think? Some feedback is always welcomed and appreciated ❤️You can check out my other stories typing ‘masochist writes’ on the search bar on my page and my newest story as a fixed post.Okay,now let’s get to the fun part,shall we? Hope you’ll enjoy 😉

“Argh! Already?!” I groan as I get up from my bed, shooting a deadly glare at my alarm *4:30 a.m. how fun is that?!* I thought

I took a shower to help me shake off my sleeping mode, brushed my teeth and made me some tea to start the day.

I know, weird right?! What type of officer/agent/investigator doesn’t drink coffee and smoke cigarettes?? Well the answer is: me! I love the smell of coffee but hate the taste of it, so tea works for me. But I am kind of guilty on the cigarettes though, it’s not an addiction per say, but I do smoke one or two if a case is really killing me...is a coping mechanism.

I drove the short 10 minutes distance between my home and the DEA’s office in a comfortable silence. Once I parked my car, I took the elevator to the 34th floor. As soon as the doors open I find my boss waiting for me.

“Good morning, kiddo!” Jeffrey smiles

Jeffrey is a nice guy, 57 years old, 37 years in this job, a good wife, four kids and two grandchildren. He drinks so much coffee that I’m pretty sure it has replaced his blood by now! He’s like a damn chimney, three packs of Marlboro red every fucking day! I really don’t know how he still have any lung function.

He’s always been nice to me, always supported, always believed in my work and potential and sort of took me under his wing ever since I started working here. He’s one of the best and I was glad to have him as my mentor and boss.

“Good morning, Jeff” I lightheartedly smile

“How is it going kid? Don’t you just love the fresh air of mornings?” He lightly chuckled

I rolled my eyes “Oh yeah I love it! That’s why you called me here at 4 a.m.? To talk about your profound love for mornings?” I raise my eyebrows

He laughs “Oh you’re priceless kid! But no, that’s not what I called you in here for, unfortunately. Let’s go to my office, shall we?”

Once inside his room, he motions for me to seat down.

“So?” I ask

“I have a case for you”

“But I’m already working on a case with Alvarez”

“That’s his case. This one” he passed me a folder “Is all yours! I want you to lead the investigation” He smiled

I open the folder and read the information inside, when my eyes stopped by the target’s name I froze in place.

“Sir, I...” I whispered “I can’t accept this”

“Not only you can, but you will kiddo! I need someone who will not get intimidated by him”

“And you thought of me? Of all people?” I scoffed

“Yes, you’re the only one I can actually trust in this place. Rumor has it, he knows we’re investigating...” He stares at me

“Do you think someone snitched?” I ask

“Only five people knew about this operation....people who wears big shoes, if know what I mean..”

“Superiors?” I whispered

He slowly nodded “ Well, we know how powerful he is, so him having informers is not a shock, but I didn’t thought he would have such high hierarchy ones..”

“So why do you want to hand the investigation to me, exactly?”

“Y/N, there’s a reason why I’ve always liked you kid, you love what you do, you can’t be bought, you’re not scared of anything or anyone, you have a deep passion about this career and that’s hard to see! But also because I need someone I can trust with my eyes closed, and that’s you kiddo” He squeezed my shoulder

I’ve always been an ambitious person, since I was a little girl, this operation is a one in a lifetime opportunity for me to make a name for myself in this department, so I didn’t think twice, before saying

“I’ll take it”

He smirked “That’s my kid!”

......................................................

It was now 9 a.m., I’m debating whether I should go on and get this over with or postpone ‘till later.

“Ah, fuck it” I say as I open my car door and make my way to the security gate. I ring the intercom.

“Yes?” A male voice answers

“Agent Y/L/N, DEA, I would like to speak to Mr. Reigns please”

“Do you have an appointment?”

“No, but I could use some of Mr. Reigns infinite kindness” I bitterly said

“Well, he’s not available now” The guy responds and hung up.

*Fucking great! Now I’ll have to get a warrant that will probably never be signed! That’s just what I needed* I thought as I made my way back to my car, as soon as I was about to get inside of my car I hear

“Agent Y/L/N, please, wait” The same guy who answered me on the intercom was now at the gate

“Mr. Reigns will see you, now ma’am”

I raise my eyebrows in surprise as I followed the man inside the house to Mr.Reigns office.

..................................................

“Please, sit down, Mr. Reigns will be here in a minute. I’m gonna need your gun ma’am” I give it to him “Thank you. Would you like something do drink?” He asks

“No, thank you”

After two minutes, the door opened once more.

“Agent Y/L/N, what do I give the-“ He stopped by my side, measuring me up and down, visually surprised and amused by ‘the agent’ being a woman “Pleasure” He smirked, offering me his hand for a handshake which I accepted

“I would like to have a few words with you Mr. Reigns, if that’s ok”

“Sure!” He made his way to his chair, in front of me “So what can I help you with, agent?”

“I came here to deliver this to you, sir” I pass him a document “It’s an assent term, we’re opening an investigation on you and we would like for you to cooperate with the information we need it, if you sign it, you’ll give us the consent to investigate your business and patrimony as well as provide us any further informations we might need. You’re free to keep the document and show it to your lawyer if you would like. In case you don’t want to sign it, we’ll have to start a search warrant on your name, business, property, information and data”

I say as he reads the document

“May I ask, what’s the investigation for, agent?”

“Illicit substances, sir” He already knows about the whole thing, so there’s no point lying about it.

He gives me a smug smirk “I bet it must be very hard for you, agent Y/L/N, to be taken seriously in this field. I mean, you’re a very beautiful woman, surrounded by all those old men..If I had a gorgeous coworker like yourself, I wouldn’t be able to function properly...” He vaguely says

“Would you like to keep the document, sir?” I ask, fully ignoring what he just said and pretending it didn’t affected me at all! Yes, he was breath taking and incredibly hot, but also an investigation target. And I’m a professional for crying out loud!

“Would you like to have dinner with me, agent Y/L/N?” He charmingly asks

“Mr. Reigns, I’ll ask for you to not insult my intelligence, sir.”

“That’s exactly why I’m inviting you for dinner. Because I know you’re an incredibly smart woman” He stares at me with his brown eyes full of amusement

I reach forward and yanked the document out of his hands, I needed to get out of there before I would do something completely unprofessional

“I see you’ve chose the warrant then, no problem sir”

I turned to walk out of his office, when he grabbed me by my arm, pulling me towards his chest. He leans down, brushing his nose on the nape of my neck

“You smell amazing agent Y/L/N, what perfume is that?” He brushes his nose up on my neck, until he reached my ear “I think we’ve started with the wrong foot, don’t you agent?” He stepped back and brushed his lips with mine

“What do you say, we give each other a helping hand? I sign your little document and you have dinner with me, how does that sounds to you?” He whispers

“I can still go for that warrant you know?” I bluff

He lightly chuckled “Oh baby, we both know that, that warrant will never be signed” He rested his hand on my neck, tilting my head up “So what’s gonna be? Do we have a deal?” As his fingers caresses the back of my neck

Before I could stop myself, the words slipped through my lips “Deal”

He smiles satisfied

To Be Continued...

Please let me know your thoughts on this “potential” series and if it should continue?

[pengychan]

[Coco] Mind the Gap, Epilogue

Title: Mind the Gap Summary: Modern Day AU. Tired of Ernesto’s snide remarks, Imelda decides to put him in his place and her husband is more than happy to help. It was supposed to be a one-night deal. Things quickly get out of hand. [OT3, mostly porn and humor. Plenty of instances of Ernesto being Dramatic, Imelda getting Sick Of His Shit, and Héctor trying to be the peacekeeper. Don’t expect anything serious.] Pairings: Ernesto/Héctor/Imelda Rating: Explicit.

Art by @swanpit​.

[All chapters are tagged as ‘mind the gap’ on my blog.]

A/N: A family can be a mom, a dad, their baby, mom and dad's boyfriend who is also the baby's honorary uncle, a cat, and a total of five dogs. 

***

“You know, you and your brothers had been baptized long before you were six months old.”

The speakers are not on, but Ernesto is still able to hear every word Imelda’s mother is uttering due to the disease that seems to affect many people the age of fifty - the certainty you absolutely need to yell into the phone for your words to be heard on the other side.

Imelda would very much appreciate not hearing them, if the way she drops the side of her head against the passenger side window with a thunk is anything to go by. “I am aware, mamá,” she almost groans. “But we’re doing it now, no? We’re on the way there, by the way, that’s what I called to let you kno--”

“And I am glad, but I cannot see any reason why you had to wait this long.”

Imelda’s head thunks back against the window just as Ernesto changes lanes to get past a car whose owner seems to be missing the foot that’s supposed to go on the speed pedal. Somewhere in the back, Héctor groans quietly. 

“I had work to do, Héctor had work to do, and if we wanted to have the ceremony in Santa Cecilia we needed time to organize,” Imelda is gritting out. “I don’t see why we should have rushed things, considering that Coco is not at risk of imminent death. Nor has she had enough time to commit significant sins on the mortal plane.”

“Of course she has not, but you know it is important for babies to be baptized--”

“And besides, the Pope decided limbo is no longer canonical some ten years ago.”

“He also said it is no reason to delay--”

“Ah, we’re getting into a tunnel. Signal is bad. See you later,” Imelda snaps, and ends the call before dropping against the backrest with the expression of a luchadora who barely made it through the end of the match. “Remind me why cancelling the entire baptism out of spite is not a good idea?”

“Ceci worked really hard on the ropón and Coco looks beautiful in it,” Héctor speaks up.

“I already paid for the entire damn thing,” Ernesto supplies helpfully.

A chuckle. “Ay, we’re stuck, then,” Imelda says, and turns back to Ernesto. “... Sorry. What were you saying before the call again?”

“The concert next month. The latest piece Héctor wrote is a duet and we could use a woman’s voice. You should come with us, it will only be a couple of nights and you’d only need to be on stage for that song. Armando is already sold to the idea.”

It seems a very reasonable proposal to Ernesto, but Imelda frowns, pulling the car’s window down just enough to get some wind on her face. “I know he is, but I am not completely sold to the idea of leaving Coco in my brothers’ care for any amount of time.”

“It can’t be that ba--”

“You were not there when they came up with the self-rocking crib,” Héctor interjects from the back.

“The self-rocking crib?”

“Yes. Thankfully they tested it on Pepita first. She was not very happy about being ejected against the wall, but you know what they say about cats landing on their feet.”

“Ah.” Ernesto briefly debates whether he should tell them about the surprise the twins are planning. Not that he knows what the surprise actually is, they just briefly mentioned they were going back to Santa Cecilia a few days earlier than them to prepare… something. 

Ah, it will be fine. Probably. 

“Well, maybe we could find someone else to look after Coco,” he finally says instead. “Or keep an eye on them while they look after Coco. ”

Imelda hums. “I guess Ceci may be able to.”

“... Anyone else?”

“Don’t be like that, she’s her godmother.”

“Not yet she isn’t, you have time until tomorrow to change your min--”

“Your co-godparent,” Héctor pipes in. “Meaning that if anything happens to me and Imelda, you two will be morally obliged to step in and help her out. Together.”

“Uuugh. You both had better live long and healthy lives.”

A chuckle. “We’ll do our best,” Imelda promises, and for a time the car is quiet. Not for a long time, with Héctor speaking up again soon enough. 

“Are we there yet?”

Ernesto sighs. And there he hoped he would stop asking. “No.”

“My leg is all pins and needles.”

“Wouldn’t have happened if you sat like a normal human.”

“But Coco needed me to hug the baby seat, she wouldn’t settle otherwise.”

“Well, she’s asleep now. You can let go.”

Sprawled across the back seat in order to keep his arms wrapped around the sleeping child on the baby seat, his left leg folded awkwardly beneath him, Héctor shoots a very offended look which Ernesto glimpses through the rear view mirror.

“No,” he declares with all the defiance of a father refusing to hand over his baby to King Herod himself to be slaughtered in the Massacre of the Innocents. Ernesto shrugs.

“Suit yourself,” he says, and keeps driving. A boring task right now, the road straight and mercifully empty. They should be in Santa Cecilia within a couple of hours, he estimates, give or take a few--

“Are we there yet?”

“Por Dios, I was prepared for the baby to be insufferable throughout the trip, but you’re worse,” Ernesto groans. On the passenger seat, Imelda rubs her temple. 

“We could stop a few minutes, so Héctor can stretch his legs - don’t protest, you know you need it. I wouldn’t mind a break either,” she adds, and glances over at Ernesto. “Do you want me to drive the rest of the way? You’ve been at the wheel the entire time.”

“I can drive the rest of the way,” Héctor volunteers.

“Absolutely not,” Ernesto and Imelda say as one.

“Oh come on, if this is still about that thing with the level crossing in Colima, it was weeks ago and--”

“Coco is in the car,” Imelda reminds him, and Héctor promptly shuts up. When Ernesto pulls into a service station and stops the car in the small parking lot, he slowly disentangles himself from the baby seat. As Coco does not, in fact, bolt awake screaming in horrible pain the second he lets go, he finally gets off the car and takes a few steps. 

Or rather, hops awkwardly on one foot while trying to regain sensation in his left leg. Imelda watches him hop towards the toilet with a chuckle, and turns to put a hand on Ernesto’s arm. “I’ll be getting coffee for both me and Héctor. Knowing you, I assume you’d prefer a beer.”

“I’m supposed to be driving--”

“Look at you, being all resonsible with a baby on board. But no, you’re not. I’ll take over from here,” she cuts him off, and Ernesto smiles. 

“I’ll take two beers, then. One for me and one for the señorita in the back.”

Imelda laughs, and smacks his chest before she picks up her purse. “I’ll be right back. If the señorita in the back awakens and demands a drink, you know where the bottle and the thermos with her milk are.”

“I may have forgotten, Héctor only showed me sixteen times,” Ernesto calls after her, leaning against the side of the car. He arches his back to stretch, groans at the satisfying pop somewhere in his spine, and pulls out his phone. Sofía has sent him a photo showing the couch in Héctor and Imelda’s living room, currently occupied by four napping chihuahuas, an unimpressed-looking cat, and an upside-down Xolo dog.

Pet sitting them here is a lot better, she wrote. At least it’s not my shit they chew up. No shoes among the fatalities, though, so no need to castrate the big one. Tell Imelda that.

Ay, how unfortunate that Dante is getting the snip either way, Ernesto thinks, much like Diablo and Lobo did. He could have Clara and Zita spayed, true enough, but the procedure is more invasive and he’d rather spare them the ordeal if it can all be fixed, literally, by fixing Dante. They’ll book the appointment as soon as they get back, and then he and Héctor will have a drink in male solidarity. Soon, possibly before either Clara or Zita can--

“Bababababa!”

Ah, so the señorita is awake. Ernesto puts away the phone and sticks his head back into the car. “You called?” he asks, and Coco grins up at him with half a tooth, absolutely delighted. She reaches up with a squeal, and Ernesto grins back.

“You want me to pick you up? Is that it?”

“Aaaababah!”

“Is that a yes? I’ll take it as a yes.” Getting Coco out of her baby seat gets another delighted squeal out of her, chubby hands grabbing fistfuls of his shirt. He bounces her a bit and she gives a joyous laugh. “Ah, look at you. Don’t tell your papá I said it, but sometimes I get what he means when he--”

“BLEAGH!”

“Gah!” 

Getting half-digested milk and apple puree all over his shirt is not what Ernesto expected to happen, but in retrospect he probably should have. To his credit he doesn’t give in to his first instinct, which is to drop the baby to tend to his shirt, so he will get to live another day. He just stands there, staring down at his ruined shirt, holding Coco at arms’ length. 

Unaware - or maybe perfectly aware - of the mess she has made, Coco burps and laughs, legs dangling in what almost looks like a little dance. Ernesto sighs, and stares at her in the eye. “I take that back,” he informs her. Coco giggles. 

“... I suspect I know what that look means. I will not be the one to change your diaper.”

“Paaa.”

“Yes, exactly. We’ll leave it to your--”

“She’s awake! She didn’t cry, did she? Coco! Papá is here!”

“Paaaaaaaa!”

Héctor takes Coco from Ernesto’s hands with a wide smile, not even noticing the condition his shirt is in, and twirls around with her in his arms, making her laugh harder. Ernesto would warn him not to spin too much, but it seems she’d already emptied her stomach, the little demon. In the end he just scoffs, gives her an offended look she absolutely ignores, and grabs a clean shirt from his luggage in the back of the car before he heads for the toilets to try and somewhat salvage the one he’s wearing. Maybe if he washes off the worst of it now, his mother will know how to fix the rest. He’s halfway to the toilets when Imelda calls out. 

"Here's your beer, it's not as cold as you like it but-- ah. I see Coco got you."

Ernesto turns to meet her gaze, his expression solemn. “I am afraid your mother was right.”

“... Qué?”

“You’re too late. Your daughter has now definitely sinned on this mortal plane,” he declares. “Do you know how much I paid for this shirt?”

Imelda raises an eyebrow. “Ah, more than you should have. It doesn’t fit you that well. You should just arrive at your parents’ place shirtless. They’re used to seeing you shirtless by now,” she adds, and laughs at Ernesto’s indignant sputtering as he informs her that was low. 

But then she kisses him and promises she will keep his beer in the ice box fridge until he’s back, and he can find it in himself to forgive the affront after all.

***

“... And this my mamá, see? Emilia. She is your other abuela, can you say abuela?”

“Abbwaba!”

“Heh. Close enough, querida. Close enough” 

Sitting cross-legged before his parents’ grave, with Coco nestled comfortably in his arms, Héctor kisses his daughter’s head before turning back to the gravestone with a small smile. Ricardo and Emilia Rivera are smiling back from it, a few years younger than they were when they died. 

Finding that photo was a struggle, because the gas leak that destroyed his home spared none of the family albums. Ernesto nearly tore down his own home, but in the end he was able to dig up a bunch of photographs from one of their very last Nativity plays - and among them was one photo of Héctor, looking a little embarrassed in his angel wings and fake halo, with his parents beaming at either side of him. 

The original is now proudly displayed in the living room in Mexico City; Imelda’s parents have a copy, which Héctor always finds on their ofrenda when he and Imelda come to spend Día de los Muertos with them. Two cut-outs from a third copy are now gracing their gravestone.

I should make more copies. Just in case.

In his arms Coco squeals, and holds out a chubby hand towards the smiling faces of her grandparents. Héctor’s somewhat dampened smile brightens again. 

“Mamá, papá, meet Coco. She’s very happy to meet you.” He bounces the child a little in his arms. “She crawls everywhere and puts everything in her mouth, just like you said I did. And she's got my eyes! Yours, mamá. Not the nose, thank God - no offense, papá, but… come on.” He laughs a little. “Ay, I shouldn’t complain. I mostly grew into it, like you said I would. I’m sorry you didn’t get to see that you were right. I’m sorry you don’t get to be here today.”

Héctor pauses a moment, and kisses Coco’s head one more time before he speaks again. “... I wish you were here to give me advice, but I’ll do my best to be as good a parent as you were. I, uh. Well, my family is not really traditional now, I guess. I don’t know if you’d approve. I don’t know if you’d understand. I’m both relieved and sad I may never get to know, and then sad I’m relieved at all because-- either way, I wish you were here.” 

He pauses, and swallows. Oblivious to the painful lump in her father’s throat, Coco has managed to grab a flower and is trying to put it in her mouth. He takes it out of her hand gently, placing it back before the grave. “But I wanted to tell you, I believe I am doing the right thing. And I am very happy. We are all very happy, and doing our best, and that… that is the most important thing, I think.”

Their smiling faces stare back, forever unchanging. He never got to see their bodies - he was told it was for the best - and now he is glad of that. This is how he wants to remember them: whole, and alive, and always smiling. They would smile today seeing their granddaughter, he’s sure. He likes to think that somewhere, they still are. 

Coco sure is smiling plenty for someone with only half a tooth, still babbling and trying to reach out for the faces on the gravestone. Héctor holds her a bit closer, and her hands press on the glass over the photos like she’s trying to grab those smiles for herself. 

“Abbwaba,” she chirps, and laughs like someone just told a really great joke. 

Must be papá. Mamá’s jokes were terrible, Héctor thinks, and when Coco turns to look at him again, laughing, he laughs just as hard.

***

“Oh, you look so handsome!”

That is something Ernesto usually appreciates hearing - he appreciates it very much, truth be told - but it does lose some of its appeal when the person saying it is your mother as she circles you to make sure your jacket looks absolutely spotless.

“Uh, yes. So, are we ready to--”

“Isn’t he handsome, Estéban?”

Estéban de la Cruz, who clearly needs help getting ready far more than Ernesto ever did - anything vaguely more elegant than an undershirt seems to make him ill at ease - glances over and gives him a shrug that probably translates to ‘I have to listen to this every day, now it’s your turn’. 

“Looking good,” is all he says, causing Ernesto to blink. This kind of thing, his father looking at him and talking to him like a normal specimen of homo sapiens, is something he has yet to get entirely used to. He remembers times when he saw his father sitting on the couch while staring at the wall in an alcohol-induced stupor, and being both relieved and frustrated by it. A part of him rejoiced at the chance to just pass by unnoticed and spare himself one of his moods, while the other wanted to grab him by the shirt and shake him, knowing full well it would amount to suicide.

I am here, damn you. I’m right here. Look at me.

“So handsome,” Adela repeats for the eleventh time, snapping him from his reminiscence. “You know, you should find someone.”

As his father looks suddenly very busy fiddling with the buttons of his jacket, Ernesto holds back a groan. “Mamá, can we not--”

“You know Mirela’s son? He’s a nice boy too, and word is that he also may be--”

Oh no. No no no no no, this is not happening.

“Ay, look at the time, I really need to go! See you in church!” Ernesto yells, and sprints to the door, almost forgetting to pick up the sack of coins on his way out.

***

“That’s a very generous bolo.”

“Ugh, don’t remind me. Ceci would never let me hear the end of it if I gave anything less.”

“Ah, don't be modest. You wanted to be a good godfather and bring plenty of good fortune to your goddaugh--"

“No, it was definitely Ceci."

"Ah." As children swarm around them to pick up the frankly astounding amount of coins Ernesto has scattered around, Héctor laughs and puts an arm around his shoulders. “Ay, don’t worry, mi amigo. I have a song in mind that will more than make up for your losses.”

Ernesto, newly-minted godfather, snorts. “It had better,” he says, elbowing him in the ribs, but his lips are already curling in a smile. Héctor lets out a yelp that’s mostly for show, and looks over to where Imelda is standing, clad in a beautiful dress Ceci insists on tailoring just for her along with Coco’s pure white ropón.

“No, no purple, for God’s sake,” he remembers Ceci muttering as she took Imelda’s measures. “This is your child’s christening, not Lent!”

Imelda does favor purple over most colors, but she looks stunning in the blue dress as she speaks to guests, Coco squirming and giggling in her arms as Óscar and Felipe make faces at her. She gets to make some noise now, after being on her best behavior through… most of the ceremony, a few drum-shattering shrieks aside. Héctor finds himself smiling dreamily. 

“She is beautiful, isn’t she?” he sighs, and Ernesto raises an eyebrow. 

“Imelda, or Coco?”

“Both.”

“Heh. Yes,” Ernesto concedes. For a few more moments they just look on, side by side. For just a split second Héctor allows himself to wish circumstances would allow him to grab Ernesto’s hand, but he knows better than that; they will not go out of their way to hide, but they have got to be practical. If there is anyone present at the moment they may try to come clean to first, it’s probably-- ah, speaking of them…

“Ernesto?”

“Mmh?”

“The twins are planning something during the reception, aren’t they?”

“Of course they are. It may or may not involve explosive material.”

“Por Dios, tell me you talked them out of it!”

“Why would I? I like fireworks.”

To the boys’ credit, the display is pretty spectacular. The only casualty is a perfectly replaceable tablecloth, and Coco’s sheer delight as she claps at the lights, nestled in her grandmother’s arms, is well worth the loss. 

It also causes enough of a distraction for the three of them to slip their arms under the table and hold onto each other’s hands for a few moments, squeezing tight.

***

“Home, sweet home!”

Héctor’s dramatic declaration would be more accurate as ‘bed sweet bed’, really. When they made it back to their apartment it felt anything but sweet, with a baby cranky from the long trip and five dogs, plus a cat, either very offended by their absence or bouncing off the walls,  frantic for their attention after a grand total of two hours on their own after Sofía left. 

It took about an hour to put down their things, feed the pets, feed the baby, take the dogs out and put Coco in her crib. Then, and only then, can the three of them collapse on the bed and breathe in a sigh of relief. 

“We survived,” Ernesto mutters into the pillow. 

“Seems like it,” Héctor groans. “Now we can sleep.”

And then, of course, Coco starts crying. It takes Imelda approximately half a minute to pick her up, decide she’s not going to be able to keep standing on her own two feet long enough to soothe her, and return to their bed with her. She lays down with her and Coco settles quickly, nestled securely in her arms. She never moves around when asleep and Pepita is keeping watch as always, so it’s safe enough, Imelda reasons with a yawn. She only realizes she forgot to close the door when Pepita jumps in, curling up next to Coco. She groans. 

“For the love of God, close the door before--”

“BOOF!”

“Yip! Yip! Yip!”

“Agh-- Dante, no, wait--” Héctor trails off with a yelp when Dante jumps up on the bed, landing across his legs and just barely missing his crotch with a clumsy paw. Out of the corner of her eye, Imelda notices Ernesto reaching down. 

No dogs on the bed, she wants to say, but Dante is already up and she is tired enough to admit defeat, at least this once. She sighs and shushes Coco while she falls back asleep, trying to ignore Ernesto’s little monsters as they snuffle around to find a spot to snooze. Once they finally settle, Imelda closes her eyes and tries to sleep. And tries. And tries. 

On the pillow, Pepita is purring away. The dogs are mostly silent, except for the occasional twitch and half-snore. Coco is suckling on her thumb as she sleeps, Héctor is breathing with his mouth open as usual, and Ernesto is snoring softly behind her. She could blame any of those things for the lack of sleep, but she knows that’s not it. 

Finally, quiet and careful to stir no one, Imelda half-sits and looks across the bed she used to share with Héctor and no one else, and that used to feel so large. 

It’s quite crowded now, with the three of them and Coco resting on it, Héctors’ limbs splayed in all directions and Ernesto a solid presence behind her, their pets filling up all remaining space. Not a single gap left.

It is perfect. It is whole. 

It is home.

Imelda nods silently, and leans back down. She tucks a lock of hair behind Coco’s ear, kisses her forehead, and closes her eyes with a sated smile.

***

Aaaand it's over, yet another fic that got out of hand and ended up at least three times longer than planned! Hope you enjoyed the read as much as I enjoyed writing it.

(Also, letting a baby sleep in the Big Bed with mom, dad, their boyfriend who is also a honorary uncle, their cat and their five dogs is really cute in fiction, but can go very wrong in reality if someone turns in their sleep. Don't do that.)

[olivemac]

1300 miles | chapter 3 | b.b.

Summary | Bucky Barnes is adjusting to civilian life, living in Brooklyn, visiting Sam in Delacroix when he can, and trying to figure out what he wants. When he meets Jo Landry, the tattooed lead singer of a New Orleans-based band, he thinks he might have found the answer. Too bad they live 1300 miles apart.

Time Frame | post-TFATWS

Pairing | Bucky Barnes x fem!oc

Rating | explicit

Warnings | mentions of combat-related injuries, alcohol use, tattoos/body piercings, coarse language, gay male character, bisexual female character, recreational/medicinal drug use (weed), pet names (doll, pretty girl, Sarge), smut [f/m, mutual masturbation, fingering, oral sex (f receiving), PIV, very very slight dom!Bucky, slight praise kink, very slight somnophilia], angst if you squint but not really, and all the romance tropes/fluff because I'm a sucker for it; more warnings to come; 18+ ONLY, minors DNI

Tag | @mrs--barnes

A/N | Decided to go pure filth and fantasy for chapter three. Enjoy. 😉

series master list | AO3 link | full master list

1300 miles playlist

_____

previous chapter

_____

Since returning in The Blip, Bucky has hated the time between when he lays down and when he falls asleep. He can't seem to turn his mind off. He's still getting used to being alone with his own thoughts, having his own thoughts. Wakanda offered him some peace, and in his apartment, he keeps the TV running constantly to fill the silence and stop himself from getting too lost inside his head. But at Sarah's house, he's afraid to turn the television on for fear of waking anyone else. So, on Sunday night, he lays on the couch listening to the house creak and groan around him, trying not to overanalyze everything that's happened in the past twenty-four hours. He also tries not to think about Jo and everything he likes about her: her laugh, her voice, her eyes, her lips, her hands, her breasts—

He cuts off his train of thought. She's funny, clever, and kind, and in just a few short hours, she seems to have commanded Bucky's undivided attention.

_____

On Monday morning, Bucky debates whether or not to text Jo. Sam advises him to wait a day or two: "Put the ball in her court. You don't want to seem over-eager," he says. Bucky doesn't point out that he hasn't felt this way about a woman in eighty years, so he is definitely beyond eager.

Luckily, Jo texts him first.

The slightly outdated smart phone Sam convinced him to invest in chimes. Jo's name appears on the screen, a small pink heart next to it, along with a photo of her in her glasses holding Toulouse and the message, I think Louie misses you, Sarge.

Another picture comes through. This time it’s of himself, asleep with Louie on his chest. Bucky smiles.

“Sam,” Bucky calls across the boat, “how do you save a photo on this damn thing?” He holds his phone up.

Sam laughs and trots over to him. “Hand it here,” he says.

Bucky hands him the phone, the message from Jo pulled up on the screen.

Sam raises his eyebrows, “Sarge, huh?”

“Don’t say a word,” Bucky warns. “Just show me how to save the photo.”

Sam walks him through the steps, then says, “You can make it your background, you know, instead of this…” he exits out of the text message and looks at the screen, “sad, generic picture.”

“You can do that?” Bucky asks.

“Did you not watch the tutorial videos I sent you, man?” Sam sighs.

Then he holds up the phone, snaps a photo of himself, sets it as Bucky’s home screen, and hands the phone back to Bucky.

Bucky stares at it for a moment. “What the hell?” he mutters.

“Watch the videos so you’ll know how to change it, Sarge.” Sam teases.

_____

Jo spends most of Monday and Tuesday trying not to think about Bucky and failing miserably. The only reprieve she has is band rehearsal which gives her something to focus on that isn't Bucky's hands or mouth or eyes or broad shoulders...

She throws herself into learning new music and tries to avoid texting Bucky every five minutes. They keep a fairly regular conversation going throughout the two days, but she's afraid she's going to scare him off if she seems too enthusiastic.

_____

When Tuesday evening finally arrives, Bucky pulls up outside the bar on a borrowed motorcycle Sam hooked him up with. He's sure that Sam only made it happen so Bucky wouldn't ask to drive his car.

He calls Jo on the intercom outside the residential door to the right of the bar. She buzzes him in, and he takes the stairs two at a time. He's full of nervous energy that he can't seem to burn off. At Jo's door, he runs a hand through his hair before knocking.

When Jo opens the door, Bucky has to stop himself from kissing her immediately. It doesn't seem like the right move for the very beginning of a first date, despite what happened between them two days earlier. Jo's dark hair is loose, falling across her shoulders, and her lips are a deep shade of red. It reminds him of the color women wore in the '40s, but he can't remember anyone looking as beautiful in the shade as Jo does.

She's wearing a black button-down shirt tucked into slim, black jeans, and when Bucky's eyes follow the trail of the gold necklace laying across her collarbone, he's greeted with the sight of the beginning of her sternum tattoo and the lace of her black bra peeking out. He licks his lips and flicks his eyes back to Jo's.

She smirks at him.

"You look gorgeous, doll," Bucky says.

"Not too bad yourself, Sarge," she says, taking in his usual dark jeans and leather jacket. She notices that he's not wearing his gloves.

"These are for you," Bucky says, handing her the small bouquet of flowers he picked up on the way.

Jo smiles and takes them. "You did say flowers." The corner of Bucky's lip pulls up in a smile. "They're lovely," she continues. "Just let me put these in water."

She moves away from the door, and Bucky follows her into the apartment. He watches as she pulls a vase from a kitchen cabinet and fills it with water. He can't stop himself from staring at the curve of her hips and backside in the tight, black denim she's wearing. All thoughts of not kissing her yet are dismissed.

He steps up behind her as she stands at the counter, snipping the ends of the stems and placing the flowers in the vase. Bucky's hands sweep over her hips and around her waist, pulling her flush against his own body — her back against his front. He takes her hair into his hand and moves it, so it falls over one shoulder, granting him access to her pale neck. His lips find the spot behind her ear, and he kisses her gently, before moving down to suck a bruise into the skin where her neck meets her collarbone. Bucky hears the scissors Jo was holding clatter onto the counter.

"If you start that, we'll never get to dinner," she says almost breathlessly.

"I did promise you dinner," Bucky mumbles against her neck.

"You did."

He spins her around and kisses her lightly on the corner of her mouth, careful to not smudge her lipstick.

"Then dinner it is," he says, pulling away and offering her his hand.

Outside, Jo eyes his motorcycle with suspicion. "You want me to ride a motorcycle. In New Orleans," she says.

Bucky shrugs.

"The potholes alone will kill us," Jo argues.

"Do you trust me?" Bucky asks, his eyes shining with excitement and his mouth curved up in a flirtatious smile.

Jo nods. With that look, Bucky could ask her to ride a motorcycle naked through Mardi Gras and she would agree. "Of course," she says.

Bucky's smile broadens, and he places the extra helmet on her head. Jo doesn't care how much this will mess up her hair; she's too focused on how gentle Bucky's hands are as he secures the strap and flips the visor down. He puts his own helmet on and motions for her to climb on behind him. Jo wraps her hands tightly around Bucky's waist as he starts the bike.

He's surprisingly agile as he maneuvers the motorcycle through the streets of New Orleans, avoiding potholes and roadblocks. Jo relaxes her hold on his waist a bit and rests her helmeted cheek against his back. Bucky's heart swells at the thought that she trusts him to keep her safe.

_____

The restaurant Bucky chose from Sam's list of suggestions is housed in a converted warehouse a few blocks from the curve of the Mississippi River. Inside, it's louder than Bucky would have liked, but that also means that Jo sits close to him so she can hear him over the noise, her body angled toward his and her hand resting on his arm as she looks over the menu. Bucky places his own hand on her knee.

He has to remind himself to actually read the menu in front of him instead of just staring at Jo. He's finally made himself focus long enough on the entrees to decide what to order when he hears Jo let out a soft snort beside him. He looks up.

"Sorry," she says before biting her bottom lip to stifle another laugh.

He just stares at her.

"You do this thing," she continues, "when you're concentrating on something, where you squint your eyes, and you rest your tongue on your bottom lip. It's kind of adorable.”

Bucky sets his menu down on the table. "I don't think anyone's ever called me 'adorable' before," he says.

Jo hums and cocks her head to the side, staring at him. "Definitely adorable. But would you prefer charming? Handsome? Incredibly sexy?" Bucky blushes. "Should I go on?" she teases.

Bucky takes her hand in his and kisses her knuckles. "Please don't," he says.

"Not a fan of compliments, Sarge?" she goads him.

"Not used to hearing them," he mumbles.

Jo smiles and squeezes his hand. "We should change that," she says.

The corners of Bucky's eyes crinkle with his smile, and Jo wants to place kisses over each line created. Instead, she closes the short distance between them and opts for placing a kiss on his stubbled cheek. She likes that Bucky lets her do this, lets her show her fondness for him this way. She's always been overly affectionate with people she likes.

For his part, Bucky is enjoying the contact. He used to love to hold a woman's hand, brush the hair from her face, press a kiss to her cheek, and after being denied any form of gentle touch for eighty years, he finds he can't get enough of it. He thought he would shy away from it after so long without human connection, but Jo makes it easy. She seems to make everything easy for him. He thinks about how normal it is to sit in a restaurant with a beautiful woman, and he chokes down the thought that maybe he doesn’t deserve anything easy or normal.

Over dinner, Jo leads the conversation. While Bucky answers her questions and engages with her stories, she's noticed that he prefers to stay quiet, prefers to listen. So, she talks. And while she talks, she observes him, observes the way his eyes follow her hands, the way his tongue drags over his bottom lip, the way his body tenses and turns ever so slightly to an unexpected noise in the room.

"You're very intense," she finally tells him.

"Sorry," he says, running his tongue over his lips again.

"Don't apologize," Jo says. "I like it. I like you."

The corner of his mouth pulls up in a smile, and, for a brief moment, Bucky wants to pour himself out before her, tell her how she makes him feel like himself again after so long. He wants to confess to her, wants to tell her more than he's told Sam or his therapists or anyone in a lifetime – stories of his childhood and family, of Steve and the war, and everything after that. But the words get caught in his throat and the moment passes.

When they step outside of the restaurant after dinner and another drink, there's enough of a late-night breeze blowing to cause Jo to wrap her arms around herself. Bucky shrugs off his leather jacket and drapes it over Jo's shoulders before tucking her body into his side. She lifts her head and smiles up at him as he leads her the few blocks to where the bike is parked.

Before he places the helmet over her head again, Bucky kisses her, his arms wrapped around her waist, pressing her body against his. He nips her bottom lip gently with his teeth and lets his hand wander down her backside, pressing her body impossibly closer. When he finally pulls away, his cheeks are flushed, and his pink lips are slightly swollen.

Jo brings her hand up to cradle his jaw. "Take me home, Sarge," she whispers.

_____

At traffic lights, Jo, warm in Bucky’s leather jacket, finds her hands wandering from Bucky's waist to his thighs, drawing slow circles across the thick muscles there. When they stop at one particularly long light, Jo has to stop herself from letting her hand ghost across his crotch. She’s trying to respect his boundaries, his need to be in control. By the time they reach Jo's apartment, Bucky's half-hard beneath his jeans, and Jo is anxious to get him upstairs.

He parks the motorcycle on the street outside the bar and stashes the helmets while Jo unlocks the building's residential door. When the helmets are locked up, Bucky meets her at the door and guides her inside, his hands on Jo's hips. She turns and presses him against the inside of the door, reaching up to stroke her fingers through his hair and ghost her lips over his, their breath mingling.

"Are you done teasing me?" Bucky growls.

"Never," she laughs and moves out of his reach. She makes it to the bottom of the stairs before Bucky catches up to her. In one swift move, he lifts her up and tosses her over his shoulder, smacking her backside before climbing the stairs. Jo laughs and enjoys the view of his muscled back beneath her hands.

Bucky doesn't put Jo down outside her apartment. Instead, she hands him her keys, and he unlocks the door while holding her with one arm around her thighs. He doesn't set her down in the living room either; he carries her all the way through the apartment to her bedroom and tosses her gently onto her bed. Jo bounces once and laughs before sliding out of his jacket, kicking off her shoes, and pulling Bucky toward her.

"Come here," she says, releasing his dog tags from beneath the collar of his shirt and tugging gently on the chain.

Bucky steps out of his own shoes and climbs onto the bed, hovering over Jo. He pushes a strand of hair out of her face and stares at her. Her lipstick is faded from dinner and their kisses, but her cheeks and chest are flushed red in its place.

“You’re beautiful, Jo,” Bucky says, and he leans down and kisses her gently. They stay like that for a while, kissing slowly, finally breaking away for air and for Bucky to spread kisses across Jo’s jaw and neck.

“Bucky?” Jo whispers. He hums in acknowledgment, his lips pressed against her collarbone. “You're in charge, okay?”

Bucky exhales slowly, his fingers trailing up and down Jo's sides. “Good," he says. "Because first I'm going to make you come apart on my fingers, then my tongue, then my cock."

Jo practically whimpers, and her back arches, her chest pushing toward Bucky’s hands as they trail across her breasts then down to untuck her shirt. His fingers move quickly over the buttons on her blouse, and he parts the fabric to reveal the black lace of her bra. He leans back slightly and takes in the sight of her pierced nipples pressing against the fabric.

"Gorgeous," her murmurs before laving at one of her nipples through the lace. He leans back again and pulls the fabric down to take her nipple into his mouth, sucking gently.

Jo sighs and weaves her fingers into Bucky's hair, her nails scraping against his scalp. Bucky growls against her breast, and his fingers move to the button of her jeans, popping it open and tugging the zipper down. His flesh hand dives beneath the waist of her underwear, and his fingers ghost over her clit. He's moving purely on instinct and maybe, he thinks, muscle memory.

“Bucky,” Jo whines as his hand dips lower, two fingers sinking into her wet heat.

“Fuck,” he mutters. He presses one more kiss to her nipple before claiming her lips again. He strokes her slowly, enjoying the way her walls clamp around his fingers and her eyes fall shut.

“More,” she pleads, and Bucky smirks against her lips. He crooks his fingers and presses his thumb against her clit until she’s gasping.

“Look at me when I make you come,” Bucky whispers, increasing the speed of his thrusts, his thumb pressing harder against Jo’s clit. He feels her tighten around his fingers, and she keens, arching her back, her eyes flying open and locking on Bucky’s. “Good girl,” he praises, and he adds a third finger as she clenches around him and digs her own fingers into the bed sheets, coming undone on his hand.

Bucky slips his fingers out of her and tugs her jeans and underwear down her legs, tossing them on the floor. His hands slide up her legs, over the curve of her hips and across her stomach to reach behind her back and unhook her bra. Jo sits up and shrugs out of her blouse and bra, letting Bucky throw them aside. His hand on her shoulder guides her to lay back down.

Bucky sits back on his heels and takes in the sight of her, from her flushed cheeks to the barbells pierced through her nipples to the trim patch of hair between her legs.

“Fuck, doll, look at you,” Bucky finally says, licking his bottom lip.

Jo breathes out a laugh and pushes at Bucky’s shirt until he’s pulling it over his head. He stands from the bed to pull his jeans off, as well, keeping his boxers on for now, then returns to her, his lips finding hers again. Their teeth clash, and Bucky’s fingers dig into the skin at Jo’s hips, holding her in place, keeping her from pressing up against his crotch.

“Be still,” he whispers, and his teeth nip at her jaw.

Bucky runs his tongue down her neck to the top of her left breast where he stops to suck a bruise into her tender flesh. He soothes the spot with his tongue and a kiss before continuing his path down her stomach to her hip. He uses his tongue to trace the floral pattern inked on the outside of her left hip down the top of her thigh and across to her cunt.

Bucky's heated breath ghosts across her sensitive flesh, and Jo gasps when he dips his tongue into her folds. He laps at her slowly, then sucks her clit between his lips, and Jo’s back arches and her whole body seems to rise off the bed.

“Be. Still,” he hisses again, and his arms wrap around the backs of her thighs to hold her in place.

“There," Jo whines. "Don’t stop. Please."

Bucky shifts his own hips against the bed, seeking any form of relief. He loves the sounds he's pulling from Jo, loves the way she tastes, and the way she ruts against him, despite his iron grip on her thighs. Later, he thinks, I'll lie on my back and let her ride my face until her legs collapse.

Stars explode behind her eyes when Jo comes, and a scream is caught in her throat. Bucky places a final kiss against her cunt, then pulls back and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. Jo reaches for him. He kicks off his boxers before settling back over her. She can feel him hot and hard against her thigh, and Bucky reaches down to stroke his cock, pulling the foreskin back with a groan.

"Are you sure?" Bucky asks, his eyes meeting hers.

Jo nods and cups Bucky’s face in her hands. “Are you?” she asks.

"Yes. God, yes," Bucky groans. He hasn’t wanted — needed — anything this badly in so long.

Jo wraps her arms around his neck and kisses him. Bucky fists his cock, running it along her folds to gather her slick, before pushing forward, sheathing himself inside her in one thrust. Jo gasps, her head falling back against the pillows, her neck bared for Bucky’s lips and tongue.

Bucky’s vibranium fist is clenched so tightly in the sheets he thinks he might rip them. He relaxes his hand slowly, the plates that work as his muscles whirring quietly beside Jo’s ear.

Bucky groans against Jo’s neck. “Fuck, it’s like you’re made for me.”

He holds himself very still, giving Jo time to adjust to him, until her hips rise to meet his. He sets a slow pace at first, enjoying the way her body flutters around him. Jo digs her short nails into the skin of his shoulders, and Bucky is surprised to find he likes the slight sting. He shifts her legs even wider with his large hands on her thighs and sits back slightly to watch himself sink into her over and over.

Jo's hands drop to his waist, and she caresses the skin there gently before whispering, "Faster, please."

Bucky practically growls at her request before pulling back and snapping his hips against hers at a frantic pace. Jo keens, and Bucky shifts again to press his body over hers, covering her completely. She can feel his dog tags against her heated chest. He watches her bite her bottom lip, her green eyes meeting his. Jo is lost in his eyes, his pupils blown wide; the look he's giving her somewhere between awe and adoration, and Jo is certain the look in her eyes mirrors his because she is so far gone for him.

“I want to see you come again, pretty girl. Give me one more,” Bucky demands, his thumb rubbing harsh circles against her clit.

That simple command is all it takes to send Jo spiraling over the edge for a third time. Bucky follows behind with a low groan, tensing and burying himself deep within her. He drops his weight on top of her briefly, his head resting against her shoulder, before pulling away and rolling onto his back, bringing Jo into his side.

They lay like that for a while, Bucky running his flesh hand up and down Jo's arm while Jo presses lazy kisses against Bucky's chest. Eventually, she excuses herself to take her contacts out and wash her face, tossing Bucky a clean washcloth from the bathroom door, and when she slides back in bed, Bucky is on her again. He makes good on his promise to himself to have her cunt over his face, pulling another orgasm from her before she falls onto the bed beside him, laughing.

He takes her face in his hands and sweeps his fingers across her cheeks gently. He wants to tell her how amazing she is, how happy he is to have met her, how wonderful the past few days have been, but he isn't sure how to put all of that into words. Not yet.

So, he rolls them both onto their sides, her back pressed against his chest and his flesh arm wrapped tightly around her waist. Jo hums and laces her fingers with Bucky's, her eyes closing. She's warm and happy and sleep is calling her name.

_____

Bucky wakes an hour or so after he's fallen asleep, the beginnings of a nightmare fresh in his mind. When his senses clear, and he feels Jo's body pressed against his, he feels calm. He uses the arm wrapped around her to pull her closer to him and presses kisses against her shoulder until she stirs.

Jo mumbles sleepily and pushes back against him, Bucky's cock nestled against her lower back. His fingers find her cunt, and she's still slick with evidence of their earlier encounter. He presses inside her slowly, groaning as he fills her, her walls tightening around him.

"Bucky," Jo sighs, her hand moving back to grip his hip as he ruts into her.

When he comes, he sinks his teeth into her shoulder to stifle his cry, then runs his tongue across the spot to soothe the sting. Jo drags the hand wrapped around her up to her mouth and kisses his palm. He tries to remember what he would have said to a woman in this situation eighty years ago, but the romantic words don't come.

Instead, he whispers, "I really like you, Jo," against her shoulder.

Jo laughs sleepily. "Good. I like you, too, Sarge."

_____

When Bucky wakes the second time, he’s alone. He can hear faint music coming from another room. He checks his phone. 6:00 AM. He slips out of bed and slides his boxers on.

The apartment is still dark with all the curtains closed, apart from light spilling from a crack in the music room door. Bucky finds Jo sitting on the floor, a guitar in her lap. He knocks and pushes the door open further. Jo turns to look up at him and smiles.

“Sorry. Did I wake you?” she asks. Bucky shakes his head no. “I don’t always sleep well,” she says.

Bucky sits on the floor with her, his back propped against the wall. Jo has to stop herself from staring at his muscled chest and thighs.

"Play me something, doll," Bucky says, resting his head against the wall behind him.

She runs through a couple of songs while Bucky replays the events of last night in his mind.

"Shit!" he says suddenly, sitting up straight. Jo stops strumming and looks at him, bewildered. "I didn't wear a condom," he says.

“It’s okay. I have an IUD so I can’t get pregnant," she tells him. "And I’m disease free. I assume you are...you know, with all that super soldier serum running through your veins," she gestures toward him.

Bucky nods but stays silent.

“Do you know what an IUD is?” she asks in response to his silence.

He blushes. “When the government pardoned me, they made me do a complete physical — doctors poking and prodding me," he shudders involuntarily. "So yeah, I'm clean. Afterwards, I don’t think they really knew what to do with me, so they gave me a bunch of pamphlets on everything from mental health to safe sex.”

Jo hums and mutters something about the state of the American public health system.

“We should have had this conversation before we slept together," Bucky finally says. "That’s what the pamphlets recommend.”

Jo tosses her head back and laughs, and Bucky beams with pride at the sight.

“Come on, Sarge," she says, setting her guitar aside, "I’m taking you to breakfast."

_____

next chapter

[renjiokumura]

A Feast for the Eyes 1

Jackson Wang x Plus Size Reader

Requested: Hi! I wanted to tell you that I LOVED your Wonho plus size reader! I was wondering if I could do a Jackson Wang fluff/smut where his plus size girlfriend is scared for him to see her naked for the first time? I love your writing!!

Tags: Established Relationship, SMUT in the next chapter, insecurities, fluff, cursing, and a card I found at Spencer’s

A/N: Again, I want to say thank you so much for the beautiful words!!! I hope you like this. Enjoy! I write the reader pretty undescriptive. I tend to use female pronouns, so you’ll probably have to specifically ask me for something with male pronouns or gender neutral. But the reader can be any race you are and be related to the characters through adoption or whatever helps you move the story along. I want everyone to feel like they can read my writing.

“Ok we can do this. I mean, we have been together for almost a year. I CAN DO THIS.” You thought. You were currently looking at yourself in the mirror at home getting ready to go out with Jackson for his birthday.

You were looking at yourself wearing a lingerie set that made you usually feel confident, but right now your nerves were getting to you too much for you to feel the confidence boost. Tonight, you wanted not only to make love to Jackson, but also lose your virginity to him too, so you had a lot to be nervous about tonight.

Right as you were about to take off the lingerie, your cell ringed with a text, from Jackson.

Phoenix ❤: Hey Bǎobèi, I’ll be there in less then five minutes. Can’t wait to spend my special day with my special girl <3

“Ok no time to take it off now.” Since you had no time to make any changes, you just threw on your outfit and finished getting ready.

As soon as you put on the last touches of your look, your doorbell rang signaling Jackson’s arrival. You got all you needed for tonight and the card you got Jackson that you may or may not give him and went to answer the door.

“Hey birthday boy, you ready for tonight?” you asked your smiling boyfriend.

“I am so ready Bǎobèi, are you?”

“Yeah, let’s go.” You locked your door, grabbed Jackson’s hand, and walked over to his car.

On the drive over to an all-you-can-eat dim sum and Asian cuisine restaurant you suggested, you were very quiet, which was odd because when you were excited about going somewhere you were talkative, so Jackson was a little concerned.

“Bǎobèi, is everything ok? You haven’t said anything since we left your house.” Saying this, he started rubbing your thigh with his right hand to try and comfort you.

You were so in your head you couldn’t really think about anything else. A debate of whether you should gift yourself to Jackson for his birthday or just pay for all the meals and then get him whatever he asked for, was happening in your head.

“(Y/N)?” He called again finally pulling you out of the war happening in your head.

“Oh, sorry baby. What did you say?” You said finally listening to him.

“I asked if you were ok, but you are spacing out. You wanna just celebrate my birthday another night if you aren’t feeling well? We can just stay in and watch movies.” He suggested more worried about your well being than his night. These were the reasons you loved this man.

“No baby, I’m good I was just lost in thought. Tonight, is all about you, so let’s enjoy it.” Giving him a reassuring smile, you left a kiss on his cheek and held his hand interlocking your fingers. This made him relieved and happy, which made him give you a heart-warming smile in return.

You finally arrived at the buffet after spending the remaining drive talking about how each other’s days went. The interior was bathed in red and gold from the walls to the plates. The design of the interior beautifully met contemporary with traditional. Soon you two were seated in a private booth that you had booked for tonight. The waiter was a very sweet man who brought your drinks fast and told you a little about the restaurant and the menu.

“Wow, this menu has so many different types of dim sum and dishes that include dim sum. I think I’m in heaven!” Jackson excitedly exclaimed after looking over the menu, which had you giggling. You had to admit though that they did provide many options for dim sum.

Before you placed your order though you excused yourself so you could go to the bathroom, leaving all your stuff at the table with Jackson. But unknown to you, the card you got for Jackson caught his attention.

“I-I shouldn’t,” he looked away, but his head slowly looked back towards it. “But it is my birthday and she most likely is going to give it to me anyway. It wouldn’t hurt to have a little peak,” he said as he reached over to get it.

Pulling the card out of the envelope, he reads the front. “You are cordially invited to…” Then he opened it. The blush on his face could rival the red of the tablecloth. The inside of the card read, “fuck the shit out of me,” and at the bottom you signed it saying, “Happy Birthday Baby I hope you like your gift”.

You, his Bǎobèi, were going to finally have sex with him?! He had been patiently waiting to have sex with you and was totally fine with waiting ten more years if he had to because he loved you and respected you, but you decided that tonight was going to be the night.

Before he could put it back, you came back and already saw that he had it. He looked up noticing you and your surprised look. Your face got hot, but you proceed to take your seat while keeping your head down so you could hide the embarrassment.

Reading the tension, Jackson knew he wasn’t supposed to find the card despite the fact it was for his birthday. But either by luck or bad timing, the waiter came over to take your guy’s order, which for a moment got your mind off the fact Jackson read the card and you had to explain it.

After the waiter left with your first round of orders, Jackson and you were left in a weird silence trying to find the right words to say.

“Jackson-“

“(Y/N)-”

You both said something at the same time, which helped break the tension and brought a chuckle out of both of you. You pointed for him to go first, since he was the birthday boy.

“I’m sorry for looking at the card (Y/N). I should have waited for you to give it to me if that was what you wanted to do.” He said giving you a puppy dog look that he somehow naturally possesses.  

Shaking your head you said, “There is nothing to be sorry for I was just nervous about giving you the card, but I am happy you peaked at it because I wouldn’t have had the courage to give it to you.”

“So, you do want to have sex tonight? Is that my birthday present?” he was almost bouncing out of his seat until he saw the uneasy smile on your face. “Unless you are uncomfortable with that, because we can do whatever else.”

This man, how did you get so lucky?

“I’m not uncomfortable with doing it, hell, I’ve been horny for you since I meet you,” this caused both of you to laugh, “It’s just, I’m self-conscious about so many things. My curves, my stretch marks, the fact I’m a virgin.” When you said virgin, Jackson’s eyes widen when you said the last part, which made you uneasy.

“Bǎobèi, you’re a virgin?” You nodded, then looked down ashamed. “You don’t have to be self-conscious about that. Or your curves or stretch marks, that I love so much.” You looked back up at him, seeing nothing but love and sincerity in his eyes, for you. “Whenever you are ready to have sex, we will take it nice and slow.” He placed his hand out, palm up, where you then placed your hand.

Before you could say anything, the waiter came back with your orders.

After the talk, the dinner went on amazingly. The food was great, and the conversation flowed without a hitch with fully belly laughs here and there. The two of you then decided to take a small stroll through the park close by the restaurant before ending the night.

Like the gentleman Jackson is he walked you up to your door.

“(Y/N), thank you for one of the best birthdays I have ever had, thank you for being the best girlfriend and MY girlfriend. I’m truly lucky to have you.” He said while holding you by the waist. He brought up one of his hands to cup your check while kissing you.

The kiss was passionate. It conveyed all his love for you and set ablaze a small flame in you that had been growing all night.

Once you guys pulled apart, you were both panting, staring into each other’s eyes. In that moment it felt like you two were the only people in the world.

“I’m ready.” You said breathily.

Jackson looked confused. “For what?”

You shook your head with a smile at your boyfriend, who found the action cute.

“I’m ready for you to make love to me babe.” While cupping his face, you lean your forehead on his and leave a lingering kiss on his lips.

“Oh, Ok. You lead the way Bǎobèi.”

[lifeofclonewars]

Intro to the Extended Fett Clan (WKatMAM)

I’m doing this so I don’t have to take an unnecessarily long amount of time during Part 4 to explain the whole family to everyone. I get my second Covid shot tomorrow, so hopefully Chapter One will be up soon. Enjoy!

Clan Leaders

Nielsen Fett: Better known as 99 in canon, Nielsen goes by NiNi or ba’buir with his grandkids. He’s a farmer, and hosts the Annual Fett Family Reunion every year. Married to Kamino. Father to Lynx, Courey, Wolffe's mom (no, I'm not revealing her name yet), Alfred (Alph), Charisma, Arla, and Jango. Grandpa to all the kids who will be listed. 

Kamino Fett: I say screw the Kaminoans by naming the matriarch of this au after their home planet and making her love her family no matter what happens. She was a baker, passed away from old age two years before this au takes place. Used to have those grandma glasses-on-a-chain. Was blonde. Mother to Lynx, Courey, Wolffe's mom, Alph, Charisma, Arla, and Jango. Her grandkids call her KamKam or ba’buir.

Subclan One (aka some of the Commanders)

Lynx Fett: The oldest of the next generation of Fetts. He's a vet. Has a full goatee. Married to Nala Se. Father to Bly, Gree, Ponds, Keeli, Colt, and Zariza. Grandpa to Colette. More lax on his kids than his wife. Good dad, poor choice in women.

Nala Se: Geneticist (obviously lol). Very strict because "Lynx is too lax on their kids" (he's not). Mother to Bly, Gree, Ponds, Keeli, Colt, and Zariza. Grandma to Colette. Few people in the family actually like her.

Bly Secura-Fett: 27, Kindergarten teacher. Married to Aayla, father to Colette. Oldest of the next generation of Fetts/the cousins. You might recognize his username from the previous parts, Old Man Dad Bly. Ponds was the one to set it to that. Bly doesn't care enough about it negatively to switch it.

Aayla Secura-Fett: 26, Ryl Translator. Married to Bly, mother of Colette. Known for wearing her hair in braids. She's not in the cousin chat but Bly's constantly showing her screenshots of it and she enjoys it.

Colette Secura-Fett: Almost 1, a Blyla baby! So far clings to Bly more than Aayla, but that may change. Gets lots of love and snuggles from the extended fam.

Gree Fett: 25, biologist. Second oldest of the subclan and of the cousins. Still has that haircut but mainly out of spite of his brothers instead of in honor of them this time. Chat Name: Green Man.

Pontius “Ponds” Fett: 23. He’s working to be an architect, but is currently stuck with a job he’s over-qualified for in the meantime. Known in the chat as Lakes because he thinks he’s funny sometimes. Most likely to start something in subclan one, least likely to be blamed for it... most of the time.

Keeli Fett: 21, cosmetologist. He took a different route than his brothers and went to trade school instead of a 4-year university and consequently got a job before Ponds did. Best hair in the family. Debating whether or not Gree’s haircut is a good enough reason to disown him lol. Chat Name: Keeling Over.

Colt Fett: 17, just finished his junior year of high school. Working a minimum wage summer job to help save for college. Met his best friends Havoc and Blitz in kindergarten; they all work at the same place now. Chat Name: Neigh.

Zariza Fett: 15, just finished her freshman year of high school. Only daughter in the subclan, which is both a blessing and a curse with Nala for a mom. Wants to be a photographer, has taken pictures throughout the reunions the past few years for NiNi. Has lots of blackmail on everyone as a result. Chat Name: Zzzzzz.

Subclan Two (aka the Coruscant Guard)

Courey Fett: Second oldest of his generation of Fetts. He’s a bartender (and owner), and the loudest and most rambunctious of his siblings. Full beard. Married to Slyvia Fett. Father to Fox, Thorn, Jek, Rys, and Corsica. His name is vaguely based on me misspelling Coruscant many many times in the past.

Slyvia Fett: You thought Nala Se was an interesting choice in mom? This lady is a super successful but shady businesswoman. Nobody knows the specifics and they’re not sure they want to know. Also kinda strict, but she’s also not home often enough for it to make too much impact. Married to Courey, mother to Fox, Thorn, Jek, Rys, and Corsica. She has dirty blonde hair, which two of her kids inherited when it combined with the rare blond Fett gene. Vaguely based on Sly Moore.

Fox Fett: 19, just finished his freshman year of college. Perpetually tired because of homework, actual work, and the projects he choses to do. Two days older than Wolffe and reminds him often. Actually best friends with Wolffe. They go to the same university. Like Wolffe, loves his siblings but is loath to admit it. Causes more trouble than people think. Chat Name: Think Outside the Fox.

Thorn Fett: 16, just finished his sophomore year of high school. Older of the two dirty-blonds in the sub-clan. Second oldest blond of the cousins after Rex. Suspicious in how he’s so optimistic when he grew up with Fox for a brother haha. Occasionally likes to stir up trouble in the chat, especially since he’s the one who made it. Chat Name: Thorn in Your Side.

Jek Fett: 11, just finished fifth grade. His best friend is Thire. Too young for the chat, not too young to cause trouble. Like all little brothers, switches between ignoring Fox and Thorn and always trying to get their attention. Like all middle children, turns it around and also picks on Rys and Corsica for the same things Fox and Thorn use on him. 

Rys Fett: 8, just finished second grade. Current goal in life is to catch Fox sneak-attacking him just once. Tags along with Jek most of the time, sometimes to bug him, sometimes because he thinks he’s cool. Also too young for the chat.

Corsica Fett: 7, just finished first grade. Only daughter of subclan two. The second of the dirty blonde haired kids in this subclan. Hangs out with Unique a lot at family reunions. Has the art of bugging her brothers at the most inconvenient times down. Already learning to blackmail people. Name lightly based on the correct spelling of Coruscant. Also too young for chat.

The Koons (aka our MCs! The Wolfpack)

Plo Koon: My favorite space dad haha. I think you get the gist by now. Get ready for some more puns! Definitely the type of dad to wear a fanny pack. His sunglasses are probably just transition glasses that switch too easily and he just never told anyone lol. Actually, I never mentioned it, but he’s also a social worker.

A[redacted] Koon: Our boys’ mom. Married to Plo, though she died giving birth to Comet. Twin to Alfred. Her name is a surprise for later, so here’s her first initial, at least. Used to wear glasses or contacts, depending on the day.

Wolffe Koon: 19, just finished his freshman year of college. The star of the show lol aka our pov character. Loves his brothers but rarely admits it out loud. Best friend is Fox and is going to use that to his advantage for blackmail this reunion. Cousin Chat Name: Werewolf? There Wolffe! Subclan Chat Name: Howl are you? Wolfpack Chat Name: Grr.

Boost Koon: 15, just finished his freshman year of high school. The only person in the family who likes Gree’s haircut. His maroon hair is starting to grow out now. It may or may not be his turn to get lost this time... Chat Name: T-Mobile. Subclan Chat Name: Ghosty Boi. Wolfpack Chat Name: Booster Seat.

Sinker Koon: 13, just finished seventh grade and it shows. His silver hair is also starting to grow out. Gonna cause some chaos, since he’s close in age to many of the Fett cousins. Chat Name: Banana Sink. Subclan Chat Name: Hook, Line, and— Wolfpack Chat Name: Stinker. (No, it hasn’t been changed back yet.)

Comet Koon: 10, just finished fourth grade. Still obsessed with penguins. Also gonna cause some chaos with some of the cousins. Koon most likely to get hurt during the reunion by climbing on and jumping off things he shouldn’t. Also too young for the chat.

Subclan Three (aka Cody + the 501st)

Alfred “Alpha” Fett: Twin to A, younger by 5 minutes and never talks about it. Married to Sevannah. Father to Cody, Rex, Fives, Echo, Tup. Owns a gym named Triple A. Used to be a personal trainer, which is how he met Sevannah. Technically the middle child of his siblings.

Sevannah Fett: Professional and Olympic archer. Married to Alph, mother to Cody, Rex, Fives, Echo, Tup. Yes, her name comes from seventeen as in “Alpha-17.″ (Maybe not) surprisingly, the more in shape out of her and Alph since she’s still competing lol.

Kote “Cody” Fett: 18, just graduated high school. Planning on attending college for sports management. Twin to Rex (he’s older by 7 minutes). Got his scar while playing football or something, I’m not really sure. Any Ghost member you can think of is probably his friend. Chat Name: *hacker voice* I’m In.

Rex Fett: 18, just graduated high school. Planning on being an athletic trainer. Twin to Cody. Naturally blond — and I mean blond and not dirty blond. Only one of subclan three who is. Any member of Torrent that’s not his brother is his friend. Chat Name: Jurassic Park.

Fives Fett: 13, just finished seventh grade. His full name will be revealed during Part 4. Twin to Echo (older by five minutes, yes). Wants to learn how to be a skydiving instructor solely to try to help Rex get over his fear of heights. Best friends are Domino Squad. Chat Name: Sixes.

Echo Fett: 13, just finished seventh grade. His full name will also be revealed during Part 4. Twin to Fives. Seems more chill than Fives but the reunion always proves that wrong. Best friends are Domino. Occasionally babysits the Havocs. Chat Name: ECHO Echo echo.

Tup Fett: 10, just finished fourth grade. Tup is his full name, yes. Starting to get into archery like his mom. Canon tattoo is a mole here. His hair’s down to his shoulders and super curly. Cody’s often pulling sticks out of it. Too young for the chat.

The Havocs (aka the Bad Batch)

Charisma Havoc (neé Fett): Interior designer. Married to Gunner. Mother to Hunter, Cross, Wrecker, Timmy. Also on the louder end of her and her siblings. The Havocs are pretty background characters, since their kids are much younger than Wolffe and also bc the show’s still establishing things.

Gunner Havoc: Carpenter. Married to Charisma. Father to Hunter, Cross, Wrecker, Timmy. Together Charisma and Gunner could probably start an HGTV show lol. But they don’t want to so they aren’t. Last name comes from the Havoc Marauder (tbb's ship).

Hunter Havoc: 14, just finished eighth grade. Part of his canon tattoo is a birthmark, though not all of it. His hair is also long enough to be put into a small ponytail. Keeli’s got some cousins to teach, doesn’t he lol. Chat Name: Hunter-Gatherer.

Cross Havoc: 12, just finished sixth grade. Grumpy almost-teenager. Wolffe doesn’t run into him often because he tries to avoid his older cousins (well, actually, most of his cousins) the entire reunion every year. Lurks in the chat but his username is Mad (courtesy of Thorn). I shortened his name because it is an actual name and Crosshair is only a clone name.

Walter “Wrecker” Havoc: 9, just finished third grade. The older cousins claim he got his nickname in the “Wrecker Incident” and make it out to be this overly dramatic thing that's classified to those 12 and under. In all reality, it was him accidentally crashing into a few things of his brothers when he was first learning to walk. Gree just thought it was hilarious to blow it out of proportion. Too young for the chat.

Timothy “Timmy” Havoc: 7, just finished first grade. Wears glasses. A bit too young to have Tech as a nickname quite yet, but he definitely would in the future. Also mostly in the background, considering he's 12 years younger than Wolffe. Too young for chat.

The Concords (aka let's add some more girls to this family)

Arla Concord neé Fett: She's the only adult beside her husband that I currently don't have a job listed for, but that's because my brain won't supply one. Second youngest of her siblings. Married to Felix. Mother to Clementine, Ansonia, Unique, Majorca, Tessa, Violet. Screw canon/legends, she's still alive.

Felix Concord: Again, haven't thought of a job for him yet, but he has one. Married to Arla. Father to Clementine, Ansonia, Unique, Majorca, Tessa, Violet. Last name comes from Concord Dawn.

Clementine Concord: 12, just finished sixth grade. Wants to be an astronaut or astrophysicist one day. Spends lots of time wrangling her younger sisters. Chat Name: Orange Gal.

Ansonia Concord: 10, just finished fourth grade. Wants to be an actress, really bring those dramatic Fett genes into play lol. Spends lots of time bugging Clementine and bossing around her younger sisters. Too young for the chat.

Unique Concord: 7, just finished first grade. Wants to be a doctor, spends lots of time hanging out with Ansonia. The two of them could probably do a pretty accurate hospital soap opera without prompting or knowing haha. Hangs with Corsica a lot at reunions, though. Yeah, idk where her name came from either. Dirty-blonde hair. Too young for the chat (duh).

Majorca Concord: 6, just finished kindergarten. Still learning basic writing and loves it so much she wants to be an author. Named after the city in Spain on accident — I totally didn’t realize that was why her name seemed familiar until like 2 months after I named her. Also too young for the chat or to appear much in the story.

Quintessa “Tess/Tessa” Concord: 5, preschooler. The other blonde kiddo. Picks on Gree’s hair without prompting from any cousins or sisters. Likes to play pretend with Majorca when they can. Also likes to draw stars and castles and such often. Obviously too young for the chat, appears slightly more because of her natural roasting abilities. 

Violet Concord: 3, maybe a preschooler? Again, doesn’t really appear much. Hangs out a bit with Boba and Tessa when the family gets together. Very very obviously too young for the chat.

Subclan Four (the OG Fetts)

Jango Fett: People usually make him one of the dads or the grandpa, but nah, he gets baby of his generation status. I wanted to keep with the “Arla is his older sister” thing but she’s the second youngest so he’s the youngest. Has been super mysterious about his life from the second he moved out but still shows up to family events. Knows who Boba’s mother is but refuses to tell. Father of Boba (obviously).

Boba Fett: 4, preschooler. Like I said above, hangs with Tessa and Violet during family events. More likely to accidentally reveal details about Jango’s life than Jango. Surprise baby but not for Jango. Jango knew. The family didn’t know until Jango showed up with infant Boba to a family event and went “this is Boba, no questions will be answered.” Also very obviously too young for the chat.

---

And that’s the extended Fett clan! Feel free to ask questions, I’ve got plenty of information about (most of) them and their roles in this au.

[yunkiwii]

stargazing | au

pairing: non-idol!mingi x gn!reader

genre: fluff დ

warnings: none

wc: 2.1k

requested: no, but i'll tag @su-lix because she has been waiting for this ♡

net: @ateezlovenet

summary: you met mingi at san's birthday party and somehow you both end up talking throughout the whole party, which led to him (kinda) asking you out.

Last week, at your friend San’s birthday party you met this other friend of his, Mingi, and somehow you two ended up talking throughout the whole party ignoring whatever was going on outside of your little bubble. When you told him you knew the names of the constellations and how to distinguish them, he got so excited about it that he just couldn’t help but ask you to teach him someday.

The party ended, you exchanged numbers to keep in touch and now, nine days later, there you were, sitting on the passenger seat of his car making your way to the middle of nowhere, to star gaze together. You still couldn’t believe you actually went on board with this, considering that you barely knew him, but you trusted San’s judgement just enough and, besides, there was no way this boy would hurt you, even though he was really tall he was just like a kid trapped in a big man’s body, too pure for this world and you could see right through him. And he was hot, you would never admit it out loud but that also had a say on your decision.

You felt really comfortable siting there next to him, windows rolled down, your hand hanging on the outside feeling the fresh breeze hitting you on this warm summer evening, as you watch the sun setting down and the sky turning into shades of orange and pink, the busy city being left behind, further and further away from you at every second.

The twenty-minute drive was made almost in absolute silence, but not in an awkward silence way, just quiet, with soft music playing in the radio, a playlist that Mingi swore he chose randomly, but you just couldn’t shake the feeling that he made the playlist specially for this drive, it just fitted the mood too well to be a coincidence.

“So, we need to establish something first.” Mingi breaks the silence as he stops the car in a small parking lot, with only a couple of lampposts lighting the area faintly now that the sun was fully gone, and you hum in response taking your eyes away from the window and facing him. “Is this a date or is this merely educational? I need to know how to behave.”

“Hm… you were the one asking me to come, so it’s up to you I guess…” you smile back at him, praying that he wouldn’t notice your hands playing with each other, a clear sign of how nervous you got the moment he spoke up.

Mingi chuckles shyly and scratches the back of his head, clearly not expecting his question to backfire at him like that. You felt proud of yourself for being able to keep it cool and avoid the question like that, even more so seeing how you left the boy so flustered he wouldn’t look you in the eye.

“It’s a date then!” He decides after a while, smiling at you but when he was halfway leaving the car, he turns back at you again, “This is, if you’re okay with it.”

“I’m already here aren’t I?” you smile back at him, leaving the car as well, satisfied at how things were turning out, although you had actually thought it was clear from the moment he asked, back at San’s party, that this would be a date, yet you still found it sweet that he had to make sure first.

As you step out you start looking around, unsure about the safety of this random place so far away from the so familiar city. It seems like a small village to you, a very quiet one, the chirping of crickets and the croaking of frogs combined with the sound of running water being the only things you could hear, and you realize there’s likely a river nearby which explains why it felt chillier here, making you pull on your jacket’s sleeves so you could cover your hands, still nervously gripping on the other.

Mingi notices your nervous tic easily and approaches you slowly with his backpack hanging from one shoulder, his tall figure right next to you so close that the said backpack is brushing on your arm lightly.

“(y/n), don’t worry about this place yeah? My grandma used to live here, I know this place better than I know myself, it’s completely safe.” He looks down at you waiting for your approval, but you just nod and hum in response, not convincing him. “It’s okay if you don’t feel comfortable here, we can go back to the city and do something else, or I can take you home if that’s what you want…”

“No Mingi, we’re here already let’s stick to the plan.” You look up at him smiling determined and a wide smile forms on his face, and hell that was a beautiful smile, one of those that could wipe all the worries in the world, and you had to look away as you felt your cheeks warm up. “But I would be more comfortable if we stayed close to the parking lot, okay?”

With that said he suggested staying near the closest tree, just close enough to what you considered safe but not too close to the lampposts so that you could still see the stars clearly. He took out a dark blue blanket out of his backpack and as you sat on it, just chatting about random daily life stuff, you began to feel more at ease, finally taking your hands away from each other and resting one on the blanket for support, and the other on your lap.

As Mingi asked you about the constellations, you let yourself fall on your back, getting a laugh out of the boy, while you ramble about how since you were little you looked up more often than you looked down, gaining you a couple of funny falls throughout the years.

“Hey, lay down, otherwise you will hurt your neck.” You chuckled pulling Mingi down by slightly grabbing on his sweater’s sleeve, and he too falls on his back right next to you, your hands brushing every once in a while, sending shivers from the tip of your fingers right into and through your spine. This made you fluster a bit, making you unable to keep the conversation going, so you both just stared in silence into the sprinkles in the sky for a while, until Mingi looks back at you all of the sudden and breaks the silence.

“Is that a constellation?” he points up to the sky, unaware that you had no idea where he was pointing at, his eyes wide open looking at you, excited about the fact that he might have figured something out.

“Mingi, I have no idea where you’re pointing at...”

“Oh, well…” he moves his body closer to yours to try and explain better what he was seeing, your shoulders now touching and he extends his arm right in front of your face so you could follow the invisible line connecting his fingers and the said constellation, “Those five stars connected form a weird «w», is that a constellation?” he looks at you again with expectation.

“Yes!! It’s Cassiopeia!” you grab his arm excitedly pulling it down next to you and, unable to control your nerdy excitement over stars, you start rambling about the said constellation unaware that you were still entangled in Mingi’s arm.

“In mythology, Cassiopeia was the wife of King Cepheus, whose constellation is right next to hers! One day she started saying she was more beautiful than the sea nymphs, the Nereids. One of them was married to Poseidon and so they appealed to him to punish Cassiopeia for her boastfulness. Because of this Cepheus went to an oracle for help who told him they had to sacrifice their daughter, Andromeda, to the sea monster, and so they did; but last minute the Greek hero Perseus showed up and rescued her from the monster. Later, Andromeda and Perseus got married and some other guy showed up claiming to be the right suit for Andromeda, starting a fight. Perseus was outnumbered so he used the head of Medusa which, as you probably know already, turned into stone whoever looked her in the eyes. In this process the king and queen were killed, Poseidon still wanted revenge and so he placed them in the sky, leaving Cassiopeia condemned to circle the celestial pole forever, spending half the year upside down in the sky as punishment for-” you stop yourself from talking as you realise you might be boring him and, worse, you were still attached to his arm like a limp, releasing him immediately and avoiding eye contact, embarrassed by your ramblings and for overstepping his personal space, and finished the sentence weakly, “for her vanity.��

“How do you know all this?” Mingi sits up and he didn’t seem bothered at all, quiet au contraire, he was actually amazed by you and interested in what you were saying. That caught you by surprise since all you were used to was to people telling you to shut up whenever you rambled about things you were passionate about.

“Well, I read a lot about this stuff… I can lend you a few books if-”

“Yes, please! I would very much like that (y/n)!” he says and squeezes your hand lightly in appreciation when you sit up yourself, holding onto your hand a bit too longer than he was supposed to, “Your hands are so cold, do you need another sweater or something? I might have another one in my car.”

As he was standing up to go to his car you grab his hand again, earning his attention back to your face again.

“I know the car is close but-, I don’t want to be left alone here…” You hesitated a bit, but the thought of being left alone there, with his back turned to you, took your mind right to all those crime documentaries you usually watch for fun, but picturing it in the real world doesn’t seem so fun.

“Oh, that’s okay (y/n), I won’t leave you alone. But perhaps we should go back now, you’re really cold and I don’t want you to get sick or something.” Mingi helps you up as you nod in agreement, although the prospect of your date ending didn’t please you that much, but he was right, as the night went on it got colder and you were starting to shiver a bit by now.

The ride back home was a whole different than the one from earlier, your level of comfort with each other went from comfortable silence to an open debate on whether your zodiac sign had a say on your personality or not. No conclusion was taken from it though, since it only led to you getting to know each other better based on the traces of personality you used to prove your own points.

Your trip back home was soon to be over but neither of you were ready to say goodbye just yet, it felt like you’ve just left the city, but you were already back, and it was almost midnight.

“Time really flies by when we’re having fun huh?” Mingi chuckled quietly and you barely heard him, so you assumed he was talking to himself and didn’t say anything. He stopped the car right in front of the pathway to your house, leaning back on his seat and turning his head to face you, “Here we are, (y/n). Thank you for agreeing on this date, I had a really good time.” His smile awakens a warm sensation inside you and you automatically mirror his expression.

“I had a lot of fun too, Mingi, thank you for tonight.”

At this point you knew you should probably say your goodbyes and call it a night, but you just stayed like that for a few more minutes, or so it seemed to you, tracing each other’s features with your eyes, memorizing every bit of it hoping you would dream with each other that night, but in reality, only a few seconds had passed until you became flustered by the boy’s eyes locked on your face.

“Hm, I- I should probably go,” you rush to take the seatbelt off and leave the car, looking back in before shutting the door, “thank you again, Mingi.”

As you were about to enter the house you hear his voice calling you from inside the car, you turn around and see the window from the passenger's side open, his face trying to get a look at you, “When will you lend me that book you told me about?”

You giggled to yourself, seeing this as chance to take control of what should happen next, “Perhaps on our next date, I’ll text you the details!”

He smiled at you and yelled back a “deal” before starting the car and leaving at full speed. You shut your door and lean against it, not quite believing you were actually the one who suggested the second date.

♡MASTERLIST♡

[marvelfansince08love]

Three’s company

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff, Natasha Romanoff x female!Reader 

Word count: God knows like 4000

Warning: NSFW 18+ lots of smut, read at your own risk. Really bad smut writing. 

Prompt 14, 30:  “If this is your attempt at pushing me away, it won’t work” “Come on now dear, Let’s not torture her any longer” - Poly 

A/N: For Vee, I love you and I hope you enjoy! I’ve scrapped this about six times and I still have a love/hate relationship with it. Also feel honoured because this is my first smut fic ever never mind Poly, please be gentle with me lmao. 😂

Thank you @lesbian-deadpool for reading over this and giving me your seal of approval, you the best sister in law ever. What would my gal do without you @missmonsters2 lol 😂x

Tags: @imnotasuperhero @j-does-life @the-enamorando-deity​ 

I do not own these gifs!🖤

Prompts 14, 30 

Have you ever been in love?

 Have you ever been in love with two people at once? Or better yet, in love with two people who are also in an established relationship.

 Because I have.

 I continue to you scribble my thoughts onto the blank page of my diary needing to express my thoughts and feelings somewhere, like a dirty little secret.

 A loud knock at my bedroom door interrupts my train of thought as I quickly close my secrets away and scramble to hide it in my desk draw. I turn around to see blonde hair and blue eyes peeking through the gap of the door.

 "Hey Y/N just letting you know movie night is starting in half an hour and I don't want another excuse as to why you can't come. You've been locked up in your room almost the entire week. We're worried." Steve asks warmly, ever the mother hen of the group.

 "I'm fine Steve I've just been busy with mission reports and making sure the new shield recruits are settling in. You know how daunting it can be, especially when Sam, Clint and Bucky think it's funny to mess with them on their first week. I promise I'll come down" I reassure him, and he almost believes me.

 "Okay I'll bite but just know I'm here if you wanna talk about it. I haven't mentioned it to them that I saw you sneaking out of their room last week" he says sympathetically.

 That's when this whole thing started. Once I became a regular member of the Avengers initiative, it meant spending a lot of time with the team. Nat and Wanda had welcomed me with open arms being the only two regular females of the group. It started off with small subtle brushes of their fingers against my hand when they walked pass or passing things to each other in the kitchen, their fingertips just lingering a little longer. Of course, every time this would happen I would be a blundering mess but they seemed unfazed by the waves of electricity between us every time, until those subtle hints turned a little more bolder.

 Three weeks ago

 Walking through the private area of the compound, I rub my tried eyes and roll my shoulders trying to ease the tension in my muscles. I shuffle towards the living room area hoping to catch up on some reading needing some peace. The open windows and the dark grey Italia corner sofa that faces it gives a lovely view of the trees and forest life that surrounds the hidden compound. In my dazed, tired state I failed to notice the fiery red head sitting lazily on the sofa a Russian novel in hand with a devilish smirk.

 "Hey Y/N how was training the newbies?"

 I gasp lightly and quickly turn around to face her, my hand hovering over my chest as I clutch my favourite book in the other.

 "Jeez Nat, you could warn a woman!"

She laughs quietly.

 "You're an avenger Myshka, your eyes should always be open to any possible thing" the words slow and clear, her voice deep laced with flirtation.

 I gulp slightly, blushing at the Russian term that I’m always referred to as but never know what it means. I drop my gaze no longer able to look into those green eyes that hold such heat.

 "Yeah well I've just spent the last five hours training dumbass's who can't tell the difference between a Fixation Bowie and a SoG Seal Knife, so give me a break" I grumbled, feeling slightly irritated suddenly.

 Maybe because she keeps flirting with you and she has a girlfriend.

 Nat frowns lightly before sitting up her legs tucked underneath her making available space on the sofa next to her, she pats the space indicating for me to sit with her. I pause for a minute debating whether that would be safe for me to do so, I scan her face and land my eyes onto her perfect full lips stained with red lipstick.

 Maybe this isn't such a good idea, I could always read in my room.

 But she looks so good sitting there and she smells divine.

 The latter thought wins as I tentatively make my way over to her and take a seat, leaving a good gap between us. Nat smiles softly before turning back to her book, making me relax a little.

 After a few minutes of us both reading in silence, I feel Nat shift slightly trying to get comfortable. Unfolding her legs from under her she slowly stretches them out over my lap and sighs content with her new position. I tense and look over to her waiting for her to say something, but her head is buried back into her book.

 It's okay, you guys are friends. This is what friends do.

 Nat shuffles around again before huffing, clearly not comfortable. I can feel her gaze on me from the corner of my eye.

 "Myshka, can I lean against you? The corner of this sofa is killing my back and you seem far too comfy" she whines lightly, pouting those cherry red lips. My eyes instantly fall to them again before quickly looking back to her eyes, a glint of knowing lingers slightly in those pretty greens.

 She caught you.

 "Oh..um yeah sure Natasha" she moves like lightening and curls up into my side, her head leaning against my shoulder, legs draped over me. My eyes widen in fear at the sudden closeness between us and the creaking sound of the floorboards by the doorway announcing another presence.

 "Well don't my two favourite girls look comfortable hmm? Mind if I join?" I continue to tense up, eyes moving back and forth between the two of them trying to gauge their reaction, but Nat seems indifferent as she continues to stay close to me still emerged in her book. Wanda makes her way around the room, I'm shocked to see that instead of sitting next to Natasha she stands closely behind us, her hands rest on either side of my shoulders, her thumbs move back and forth along my exposed shoulders as she leans in and whispers "you seem tense fényem (my light), you need to relax. Is Steve giving you a hard time with the new recruits? I'll have a word" her breath softly brushing against my sensitive skin making me shiver.

 I shake my head unable to find the words to speak. Wanda hums quietly before releasing her hold on me and moving towards Natasha before letting her lips meet hers in a heated kiss. I try to avert my eyes but it's too late, Nat looks straight at me and winks subtly before going back to her book as Wanda walks away asking if we would like a drink. I shake my head in decline before making up an excuse and sprinting out of there.

 Whatever game their playing, I don't want any part of it...

 Or maybe I do.

 End of flashback

 A week later the flirting and teasing had gotten more bolder as the days passed. I found myself being left alone with one of them or both way too often for it to be a convenience. At the end of that week, it was team bonding night in the games room, drinks were poured and before I had time to blink, I could feel soft warm skin against my lips while two pairs of red lips and hands trail along my naked back and shoulders, limbs tangled up in silk sheets.

 I woke up in a haze just as the sun met the earth in the distant horizon and vanished out of their room. Leaving an empty gap between them, making my heart shatter. The knocking on my door and the empty threats to come into my room if I didn't speak to them became less and less as the week went on, as if giving up on any attempts to see me.

 I'm shaken out of my thoughts by two large gentle hands cupping my shoulders; Steve stares at me with concern.

 "Come on let's just go down and get the food ready for the movie, okay? You can sit with me if you like, you don't have to talk to them" I nod my head in agreement to his proposition.

 "Is there any specific snacks you would like?"

 I smirk at that slightly before replying:

 "Do we have the big bag of Doritos, Dorito?" Steve rolls his eyes and groans in annoyance.

 "Can you and Tony stop it with the Dorito thing? it was one commercial and the money went to a good cause" he moans grumpily before leaving the room and heading back towards the kitchen for the movie night snacks.

 I chuckle softly before gathering my thoughts.

 Maybe I could make another excuse up for not going.

 Knowing I don’t stand a chance against a stubborn Super Soldier I make my way out off my safe space and into the unknown.

  Upon arriving in the dimly lit room I scan for a vacant double seat to settle into for the evening, my eyes fall upon the very two people who have been taken over my thoughts and the pages in my diary for last two months; Natasha Romanoff and Wanda Maximoff.

 Wanda sits comfortably on Natasha's lap her head tilted upward as Nat whispers softly to her while brushing her thumb over Wanda's bare calf making her giggle quietly.

 My thoughts overtake me as I think about her thumb brushing against my bare thigh while Wanda whispers sweet nothings into my ear, just like that night...

 As if sensing my presence, they both turn and face me, a soft smile playing on both of their lips.

 "Hey kotenok, where have you been all week? We've missed you" Nat speaks quietly laced with worry. Wanda's furrowed brow also indicating her agreement.

 I blush slightly and clear my dry throat suddenly aware of my daydreaming.

 "Sorry...I.. um I had a few mission reports that needed finishing and didn't realise the time. I could do without Steve chewing my ass about neglecting my responsibilities outside of missions" I say impersonating my best Steve Rogers voice, which causing Nat to smirk slightly; amusement in her eyes while Wanda giggles her eyes looking over my shoulder.

 "You know Y/N if you actually did do the reports on time, I wouldn't have to keep lecturing you" a deep authority voice says behind me while dangling a bag of Doritos in front of my face. I roll my eyes in good nature before grabbing the offered snack and moving to sit in the empty loveseat by the two women.

 "You know there is space on this love machi- I mean love-seat Y/N, all you gotta do is ask" Sam teases a few rows down and winking cheekily, a pillow hits him around the back of the head by Bucky who's sat beside him.

 "Please she's way out of your league, fake bird" they both continue to bicker back and forth as I settle onto my own love-seat, wrapping the blanket around me and sighing at the warm feeling surrounding me as I sink into it further.

 "Sam's right though Y/N, you don't have to sit by yourself. Come sit with me and Nat there's plenty of room here" Wanda whispers leaning over towards me so no one else can hear, her eyes filled with attentiveness. I gulp and avert my eyes away from her emerald gaze as I pull slightly at the blanket as if trying to form a protective barrier around myself, away from her gaze and the heat behind them.

 "Oh um I'm okay I'll stay here. Thank you though" I stutter over my words while trying to build up enough courage to look into her eyes, to show her I'm not affected by the idea of being so close to them both.

 "Oh okay.. well if you do get a bit lonely over here, just know the offer is there Myshka" her eyes filled with slight disappointment but doesn't push the offer further and settles back into Natasha. I feel Nat's heated gaze upon me as I try and stay focused on the starting credits of Clint's choice of film.

 Halfway through the movie, I can feel my eyelids growing heavy and my vision blurring. Unable to fight the dreamworld any longer I slowly let myself fall into a deep slumber.

 "She's so cute when she sleeps, so peaceful"

 "Can you imagine how good she would be for us Wanda, how amazing all three of us could be?"

 "Nat! This isn't the time; you know the last time we did that with her she pushed us away. Why won't she just talk to us? If she had just stuck around long enou-"

 The voices in the room suddenly stop as I feel myself awakening from my deep slumber, I tense slightly suddenly aware that I'm not alone in the room and not in the comfort of the cinema loveseat but in a soft bed that smells just like...

 "Hey sleepyhead, look who's finally decided to join the land of the living" Nat murmurs while brushing a stray piece of hair out of my face and behind my ear, I shiver slightly at her touch before scurrying into an upright position, aware that I'm currently not in my own bedroom but in theirs.

 "How long was I sleeping for?"

 "Only about two hours, we thought it would be best to bring you in here since we need to talk"

I gulp slightly at that.

 "Um.. to talk? Could we do this another time? I'm pretty beat from all that writing and working with the recruits, I just want my bed" I try to reason with them but they both fix me with a "don't even try it" look before sitting on either side of me. Wanda grabs hold of my hand and turns my palm upward, she traces her finger around my palm and slowly lifts her eyes to look at me.

 "Please Y/N, talk to us. We've been trying to see you all week, but you seem to be avoiding us and Nat doesn't take to well to being ignored" she smirks mischievously at mentioning her girlfriend, who seems to be remaining quiet throughout the exchange.

 I look over towards Nat only now taking in how quiet she's been throughout this whole exchange even in the cinema room she spoke less to me than ever before. Her eyes drop down, looking at the silk sheet as her hand brushes softly against along it, her head tilted slightly as if reminiscing.

 "We may have gone about it the wrong way myshka, but we care about you.. a lot actually and more than just friends. We can't stop thinking about you but avoiding us after leaving like that... if this is your attempt at pushing us away, it won't work. We...I felt it that night, the way you clung to me as I brought you close to the edge, the softness in your eyes when Wanda held you close afterwards... tell me you don't feel the same way"

  I sit gaping at her, lost for words. I feel Wanda's hand squeeze mine gently, comforting me and encouraging me to respond. She leans forward and brushing my hair behind me ear before cupping my face with her hand, her thumb brushing away at the absent small tear on my cheek.

 "Shhh lyubov moya, we know, or did you forget that I can read minds" she teases gently trying to ease the tension. She brings her lips to the side of my head and lets them brush gently against my temple before trailing them down to my cheek, leaving small trails of soft kisses. Her lips reach near my mouth before pulling away slightly:

 "If you don't want this Y/N we completely understand, just say the words and we'll leave you alone and let you move on-" before she could finish, I lean forward and capture her lips with mine.

 "I want this, I've wanted this for a while" before continuing to peck her lips repeatedly. I see Nat from the corner of my eye stand quietly before moving to sit in the armchair opposite the bed watching intently as Wanda pushes me gently so I'm lying flat on my back.

 She continues to straddle my waist and slowly unbuttoned my shirt before pulling it apart exposing my bare chest, the cool air hitting my breast making them harden instantly. Wanda hums in delight at the sight, her eyes darkening with a glint of red spiralling underneath her natural colour. She leans her head down towards my neck letting her nose brush lightly down the valley on my breasts barely touching my skin, her eyes lock with mine before looking over her shoulder at Nat who is now undressed from the waist down with the smallest pair of white panties on that barely cover her assets; a dark wet spot appearing indicating to her arousal, as she keeps her legs spread for us to see her hand trails slowly south towards her heat.

 "Mmm someone seems to be enjoying our performance, little one. Shall we give her more?" Her hands grip my shorts before pulling them down and letting them drop to the floor before leaving wet kisses from my ankle to inner thigh, tongue swirling and nibbling softly right near my core. I shiver and arch my back basking in the overwhelming feeling of her. She continues to tease me, brushing her nose against my panties before pulling away. I hear the floorboards creak quietly making Nat's movements known, I watch her as she stalks over towards us like a predator after its prey. She squats down so she's eye level with me her fingers grip my chin, making me turn my head to the side: facing her.

 "Such a pretty little thing, it would be a shame to put those luscious lips to waste, don't you agree Wanda?" She mocks, her question for the woman between my legs but her eyes stay locked with mine, darker with a glint of mischief.

 She moves forward and presses her lips to mine, trailing her tongue along my bottom lip making me gasp. Her tongue battles with my own before I take a hold of her bottom lip between my teeth and tug at it making her moan deep. I shiver slightly and turn my eyes downward towards Wanda who now has my panties in between her teeth as she drags them down slowly almost agonisingly slow her eyes locking with mine. Nat's attention now on my neck sucking gently.

 "Oh god"

 As soon as she's disposed of my panties her mouth is on me instantly, lapping her tongue over and over again, swirling around my folds before taking my clit into her mouth and sucking hard, making me moan out load.

 "She's so wet for us Nat, god I almost forgot how good she tasted"

 Nat chuckles softly before removing her panties giving me a great view of her pussy. I lick my lips in anticipation, excited at the thought of having Nat above me with my tongue inside of her. She smirks knowingly before slowly removing her tank top, showing her full breasts and climbing expertly above me so she's facing Wanda her pussy directly in view, dripping wet. I tilt my chin up trying to take a taste, but she hovers higher up away from me making me whine. I'm stopped from reaching any further by Wanda's hand grasping my breast her fingers twisting my nipple slightly as her tongue enters me, making me cry out.

 My cries are quickly stop by Nat, who lowers herself enough to let me taste her. I moan at how wet she is...how wet she is for us. The room is filled with low moans and desperate cries of passion as I continue to swirl my tongue around her entrance, Wanda brings her thumb up to my clit and rubs hard circles around the sensitive area making me pull away from Nat slightly, hips bucking wanting more of her.

 "Please Wanda, I need you inside me" I say desperately. She chuckles quietly before leaving my heated area and making her way up to my chest taking a nipple into her mouth and releasing it with a soft pop.

 “Come on now, dear. Let’s not torture her any longer” Nat teases from above me her voice breathless.

 "I got something much more pleasurable" she smiles wickedly, I watch in astonishment as her eyes turn a blood red but before I could question, I feel a strong wave of pleasure hit my core, Nat and I moaning out in unison.

 "Y/N if you don't put that fucking tongue back where it belongs, I'm gonna fuck you so hard you won’t be able to walk for a week" Nat grumbles through her moans caused by Wanda's magic. I quickly tilt my chin up and plunge my tongue deep into her entrance. My hand desperately reaching for Wanda's pulling her closer. The waves of sensation hitting one after the other, faint sparks of red surrounds us. I feel Nat tense above me, bringing my hand up I gently rub at her clit, bringing her close to orgasm. She cries out before relaxing above me; I lap her up, taking every last drop of her orgasm.

 "Wanda you still have too many clothes on" I whine trying to blindly remove her clothes. I feel Nat move from above me and towards Wanda while she continues to tease up and down my body.

 "Y/N is right malen'kaya ved'ma (little witch), you are wearing far too many clothes" she says before gliding Wanda's long skirt and panties over her ass and dropping them in a heap on the floor, while she continues to kneel between my legs. I feel Wanda's hot breath hit my core as she gasps at the cool air hitting her warm skin. Her eyes glow a brighter red as Nat traces her finger up and down her folds before finding her entrance and quickening her pace, she leans her body over Wanda, so her lips are close to her ear as they both stare at me.

 "Hasn't she been good for us Wanda? I think she deserves an award" Nat whispers voice laced with lust slightly breathless.

 That familiar wave of electricity hits through my body to my core making me gasp as Wanda projects her pleasure to me. Being able to be in sync with her body and its reactions to pleasure, mixed with my own need for release, throws me over the edge as I feel the knot in my core relax making me slump against the pillow, Wanda not far behind. She collapses gently on top of me, her head resting against my chest listening to my rapid heartbeat start to slow. Nat moves around the side of the bed grabbing a throw over from the back of the armchair and covering us all up before curling into my side, kissing the top of Wanda's head and my cheek.

 "Does this mean you'll consider being with us Y/N, not just the sex but everything else that comes with it" Nat asks almost tentatively, scared of what I might say.

 "You guys had me the moment I laid eyes on you"

[criminalminds4days]

Family Matters: Prologue

As promised, here is the prologue for the series. 

Warnings: Swearing, sexual references, violence and murder reference, public embarrassment, and very bad jokes!

Word Count: 3.2k

Chapter Board | Next Chapter

Tag list: @mcntsee @lets-be-gay-for-the-angel @evelyncade @haylaansmi @paulaern @myfandomlife-blog

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(This gif is not mine)

Prologue: Get It Together!

She was gonna do it. Yes, of course, she was. She had finished college, gotten a doctorate, taken down an armed serial killer, been held hostage and now she worked for the Behavioral Analysis Unit, one of the most exclusive and hard to join teams in the FBI, so of course she could do this! Yet here she was, breathing heavily as she tried to press the button, it was now or never.

Maybe never?

No! She couldn't be afraid anymore, she had to do it. She was twenty-eight years old, she couldn't just... But what if her age was the reason this was pathetic? No! She had to do it, she had to do it. There was no turning back, if her family found out about this she would be humiliated (yet again). She couldn’t just say that at her age she had fallen so low. She had to cover it up, there was no other way. But what if they found out anyway? No, she couldn’t allow such a thing.

Breathe.

"Are you okay?" The voice of her coworker made her jump and almost drop her phone. She locked the screen and turned to look at him. He seemed confused at her reaction, but she simply fixed her hair as if it was any other Monday and what she was doing was perfectly normal.

"I'm fine."

"You don't seem fine." He pointed out. That was Spencer Reid, always kind, always honest. His brown hair was a curly mess and his brown eyes stared at her intently as he fixed his navy tie, he was wearing a white dress shirt and grey dress pants, definitely not the attire she imagined ever seeing from the sweater-loving resident genius at the BAU, however, she resisted the urge to comment, instead focusing on the issue at hand.

"Thank you, what all girl wants to hear." She debated whether it was worth telling him or not. While she and the other Doctor on the team weren’t necessarily good friends, being held hostage together and taking a beating to prevent him from being killed creates a certain bond between people, so she decided to attempt and share her situation. “I was trying to... Ugh, this is so embarrassing." She placed her head in her hands, lamenting every second of her miserable life.

"I don't know, maybe if you tell me it'll be less embarrassing?" He asked.

He was trying to be helpful; she knew he was, and she appreciated that more than anything, but it was hard to share how low she had fallen despite her age and position. She knew if someone would listen and not make fun of her it would be the man sitting at the desk across from hers, but she just couldn’t phantom saying it out loud. Then again, he was a genius, and he was not known for his successful love life, so maybe, just maybe he would understand the situation better?

"I accidentally told my annoying cousin that I was dating someone and now I have to bring my boyfriend to her stupid wedding."

"So? How is that embarrassing?"

"I don't have a boyfriend!"

"Why did you say you did? How do you accidentally tell someone you have a boyfriend when you don't?" She knew he wasn't making fun of her, that he was genuinely perplexed, but that knowledge didn't help subside her irritation.

"I only said it because she kept ranting about how I was gonna die alone and she was better than me..." She looked at him, his brow raised. "Okay, maybe she didn't say it exactly like that, but the intention was clear!" She cleared hair out of her face and continued, "Anyway, because I clearly do not have a significant other, I thought that if I hired someone to be my boyfriend during the wedding, it might be less painful?"

"You decided that the best way to solve your problem, of lying to your annoying cousin about your love life was hiring a fake boyfriend?" She looked at him, and a small smile played on his lips. "How does that make sense?"

"It doesn't! But I'm out of options here and I don't know what to do!" Her leg started bouncing as she bit her lip. "The wedding is this weekend, and I will die before I admit I lied to bitchy Anna!"

"That's a little extreme, don't you think?"

"Spencer Reid, you have no idea how far I'll go to shut bitchy Anna up!"

"Who's bitchy Anna?" Another voice said as Emily Prentiss, a tall woman with clear skin and dark short hair made her way to them. She was wearing a white dress shirt with a matching black blazer and dress pants, her small heels making a click-clack noise as she walked. If only she could have the confidence and stamina of Emily Prentiss, she would not be in this mess. Though she couldn’t daydream of being the woman in front of them too much after hearing Spencer’s words.

"Her cousin to whom she lied about dating someone. Consequently forcing her to now look for a fake boyfriend for hire." Spencer spoke as if nothing was weird about the whole situation.

"Why don't you just take Reid? It's not like he has plans, right?" She suggested as an amused smile played on her lips.

She didn't even have time to be mad at the man for spilling out her most embarrassing secret like it was nothing, because Emily's words made her perk up. She turned to him and he quickly shook his head.

"No, there is no way. I hate weddings, and parties in general."

"You owe me!" She argued.

"What? I don't owe you anything!" He defended himself.

"Of course you do, you told Emily something I confided in you!"

"You didn't tell me I wasn't allowed to say anything!"

"Spencer, please, I will do anything you want in order to make bitchy Anna eat her words." She placed her most convincing puppy face and looked at him. This face never failed, on anybody. She had mastered the art at age five and from then on the only thing it couldn’t get her was a normal family. Actually, scratch that, it never really worked after she became ten and Anna had also mastered it, but she was hoping this would be an exception.

"No."

Well, she had already embarrassed herself enough, so what was more begging in the great scheme of things?

"Come on, it's not like I'm asking you to marry me! I'm just asking you to pretend to be in love with me for one day."

"Be careful, that's how a lot of love stories begin," Prentiss said teasingly as she winked at the pair.

"Come on, I will give you money, I will drive you to work for a month. Whatever you want, it's yours." She said, "and Prentiss, this is the real world, not some cheesy love story. Spencer and I are much too mature for those silly things."

"No, I'm mature enough to know better. You just offered anything I want on a silver platter so I can pretend to be your boyfriend at your cousin's wedding. Let that sink in for a minute." He said as his smile grew wider, an idea clearly appearing in his mind. "Let me see, how about, a whole year of rides to work and coffee, for 24 hours of being the fake love of my life."

"Deal." She stretched her hand to shake on it and he looked at her, slightly offended. "Sorry, I forgot. I will make sure to wash my hands more times than necessary and wear gloves all week because you do have to hold my hand during the wedding, couples do that."

"Real couples do that, and it's not very hygienic."

"Well, for Saturday we will be a fake real couple, so let that sink in for a minute." She said as she triumphantly left the scene. She was making her way to the elevator, until she remembered she couldn’t really leave as she had arrived only thirty minutes ago, and her shift was not over until five. She fixed her hair and walked back to her desk as if she hadn’t just embarrassed herself in front of two of her coworkers and continued her paperwork. She heard a laugh from Emily’s desk and didn’t even bother to look up. She had figured out her plan and now she just hoped it would not explode in her face, so a few laughs from her coworker were worth the trouble.

Truth be told, there was a much bigger reason she needed to have someone at the wedding, but Spencer and Emily didn't need to know that. They didn’t need to know why she was willing to feed Spencer Reid’s addiction to coffee and his hate for driving for a whole year rather than tell her cousin she was still single.

Before she knew it, the weekend had arrived and she was in her car, a two-door gray Scion she had very proudly named Matthew when she bought him last June, and she made her way to Spencer's complex. She waited for him in her car after letting him know she was outside. She took the time to look at her now straight hair and her barely visible make-up. She knew blue was Anna’s favorite color, as it was also hers, so she made sure to wear a turquoise dress for her wedding, this was going to be a productive night, for sure.

"Hello, darling." He said as he buckled his seat belt. He was wearing a black suit with a tie that matched her dress, provided by her. His hair was lazily pushed back, giving his fluffy curls volume. She wondered what it would be like to touch it? Spencer would never allow it; he loved his hair way too much.

"We are gonna have the time of our lives, babe." She winked at him and began driving to the venue.

Of course, Anna would use the same venue she had been wishing for her wedding because it wouldn't be Anna if she couldn't have absolutely everything she ever wanted and more. The woman didn't know how long ago this passive-aggressive feud between the two had begun but she'd be damned if she let her cousin beat her at it. She pulled Spencer by the arm gently as she made her way to their table, which was front and center, granting her cousin the ability to see who she had brought along.

"If it isn't my favorite cousin!" She exclaimed. The girl fought the urge to roll her eyes. "And who might this be?"

"Anna, this is my boyfriend, Dr. Spencer Reid. Babe, this is my cousin, Anna."

"Anna, newly Hemingway." She emphasized her last name. As she reached to stretch his hand, but he simply waved. "Pleasure." She said as she retracted her hand and looked him up and down. It was only natural for her to do such a thing. "So cousin, have you heard that the family retreat has a date?" She exclaimed with excitement. "It's in about two weeks. You two obviously coming, right?"

"We actually have a retreat, with our team from the Behavioral Analysis Unit." She said, already looking for a way out, Spencer nodded in agreement.

“What a shame,” Her cousin said with faked empathy. “I’m sure it has nothing to do with what happened two years ago, does it?”

She was out of words, of course she would bring it up. Because of that incident she had convinced her mother to not force her to go last year and it was definitely the reason she was not going this year either, but the fact that Anna knew that got to her. She was ready to go home and cry of embarrassment once again. She had done it. Anna had won with one single question.

“Actually, I didn’t want to say anything hon, because it was a surprise,” Spencer spoke for the first time. “Aaron Hotchner, our boss, said that if I could memorize the whole itinerary, which I obviously can thanks to my eidetic memory and IQ of 187, that I could simply share the notes with you and we can take the weekend off since we are his favorites anyway. I was planning on a much more romantic evening than some family retreat but if your cousin is so determined to have us go, we shall be there.” He smiled at the bride, his amusement not so subtle at her reaction.

“You found a keeper,” Anna said, moving some blonde strands of hair from her face. “Anyway, I have to say hello to some guests, but I will see you two lovebirds later.” Her white dress got caught under her heel making her cousin almost fall, but this last one continued as if nothing happened.

"Thank you." She said as she squeezed his hand gently, realizing they were still linked. A whole thirty minutes, that had to be a record for him.

"Don’t thank me, now I understand why you call her bitchy Anna.” They both chuckled at the comment.

“I will call the day of the retreat and say you came down with the flu or something.” She assured him.

“No, I am definitely coming.”

"What? Why would you want to do that?"

"Because," He began, "in the time I've known you I've never seen you let anyone walk over you, or make you feel less. Remember when we met?" She chuckled at the thought. "I didn't appreciate the public embarrassment, but I gained a lot of respect for you. It was hard watching you let her talk to you like that and make you feel less. You are not less." He assured her as he looked at her, sympathy in his eyes. "You are an amazing agent and friend. I bet you're a great daughter and a reliable family member. You are much stronger than you give yourself credit for. If it wasn't for you, we would have never survived that day, I will never forget that. So, I will go with you, and I will be the best boyfriend your family has ever seen, and bitchy Anna can suck it."

She laughed at his comment and he joined. Boy, was she glad Spencer was here with her. Even if they had never been the closest of friends, she valued his opinion, and she was glad it was such a positive one. She wished this was the beginning of an actual friendship between the two.

"Honey!" Her mother's voice interrupted her thoughts, as she approached them

"Oh no." She mumbled, confusing Spencer. "Babe, get ready. You're about to meet my mom." She apologized with her eyes and turned to the bubbly woman that approached them. "Hello, mother." She said as the dark-haired woman with tan skin and stiletto heels that should be illegal reached her, giving her a tight hug. Her red dress matched the infernal shoes and a necklace of pearls adorned her neck.

"Who might this handsome fella be?"

"Mom, this is Spencer Reid, my boyfriend. Spencer, this is my mother." Before he could say anything she was already squishing his cheeks followed by the woman planting a kiss on each side of his face. "You are handsome, I bet my grandchildren will be gorgeous!"

"Mom!" She exclaimed embarrassed.

"What? Don't tell me you're not planning on marrying this hunk? He's a keeper, I can tell."

"You also said that about Tyler." She regretted the comment instantly, the reason being that she didn't need anybody else to know of that embarrassing story.

"Yeah well, aren't you glad you aren't with him anymore?" She said as if public humiliation was something to appreciate. "So how long have you two been seeing each other?"

"Two years."

"A year." She responded as she heard Spencer answer at the same time. "He means that he's liked me for two years, but we only went on our first date a year ago, a year after my breakup with Tyler."

"Yeah, that's right."

"Oh, well. I always thought you would be Mrs. Tyler Hemingway, but Mrs. Spencer Reid sounds so much better!"

"It's doctor." They both corrected.

"Even better!" After that, she walked off without saying another word.

"That's your fake mother-in-law dude... She's something else." She sighed with relief at her mother's easily distracted personality.

"Did she say, Hemingway? As in-"

"Yes, as in my cousin's new husband." She cut him off. "The same one that two years ago told me in front of most of my family that he was in love with my cousin and left me heartbroken and humiliated. That same Tyler Hemingway."

"I'm sorry."

"What doesn't kill you makes you stronger, right?" She heard his voice call her and she immediately tensed, Spencer noticed this and moved towards her.

"I am also sorry for what I am about to do, but it will make sense soon." He said as he let go of her hand and grabbed her cheeks, pulling her for a kiss as her ex-boyfriend now turned cousin-in-law watched, perplexed.

When someone describes a fake kiss, it is usually romantic. First comes the surprise, and then immediate compliance, but she was so confused Spencer had to basically squish her cheeks to make her close her eyes and for her to realize what he was doing. She followed suit and kissed him back, still unable to form a coherent thought. It was not like Spencer Reid was a bad kisser, if she had to rate it, it would have been the best kisser she had ever encountered, but the situation that had created such a kiss did not provide for her enjoyment. Not that she wanted to enjoy it, this was her coworker turned accomplice and hopefully actual friend, not someone she was necessarily attracted to, even though she could admit that he was a handsome man. That was not something weird, even Jennifer Jareau, JJ, their friend, and coworker had said it once or twice. You can admit someone is handsome or beautiful without being attracted, everybody knew that.

The cough coming from Tyler Hemingway made Spencer let go of her, as soon as he did he winked at her and moved a strand of hair behind her ear, subtly stabilizing her and covering her shocked face until it dissipated.

“I thought you weren’t one for PDA,” The groom asked. His black tuxedo and white dress shirt made him look handsome, his black hair was pulled back and his blue eyes observed them intently.

“PDA?”

“Public Demonstration of Affection.” She clarified. “Tyler, have you seen this man next to me? How could I not want to kiss him every minute of the day.”

“And this woman has me craving for her touch.”

“Lovely.” The man responded with anything but love for them. “I just wanted to say hi and apologize, I hope you did not mind the venue Anna chose.”

“Me? Why would I mind?” She laughed. “It’s not that big of a deal.”

She felt Spencer’s arms wrap around her waist from behind, even though she hadn't noticed he moved. His head rested on her shoulder, leaving small kisses on her cheeks. Who was this man and what did he do with Spencer Reid?

“I hope you do not take this the wrong way, but when she and I get married it would have to be a much larger venue, with a different layout. I mean, this venue is cute, but this beautiful woman could outshine it just in pajamas.” He smiled at the man and turned his attention to her. “I keep telling you love: stop thinking small, you are a queen among peasants and deserve nothing but the best. Anyone who can’t see the level of woman you are is simply an idiot.”

This was the moment she was ready to marry Spencer Reid and never let him go, just for the satisfaction of seeing Tyler’s face at his comment. She would forever be grateful to Emily Prentiss for suggesting she ask him.

[debbiechanclub]

Best Two Out of Three, Part 25

BTOOT is back! @hotyeehawman and I would like to apologize for the unintentional three-month hiatus. But it was the holidays, and then life, and lack of motivation... but we’re back! And I hope you all are just as excited about it as we are 😁

But enough talking! Enjoy! And please give us notes and scream in our asks we would very much appreciate it.

Best Two Out of Three

Part: 25/26

Pairing: Kenny Omega x OFC and Cash Wheeler x OFC x Matt Jackson...? And Adam needs to start loving himself, okay.

Word count: 4.6k

Warnings: Language; angst; alcohol use; blood

Catch up on previous parts here.

Tag squad: @freshlysqueezedmox @comeasyoudar @heelchampbucks @librathepheonix13 @gabbynorth98 @irish-newzealand-idian-dutch @exe-sadboi-exe

For a hazy, fleeting second when he first woke up, Adam didn’t remember what had happened the night before. But then his hotel room came into focus, the fog of sleep cleared, and it all came flooding back like a waking nightmare.

He didn’t know how long he’d laid in the middle of the ring after Kenny had let him collapse face-first onto the mat. Seconds that had felt like minutes. Minutes that had felt like hours. The people at ringside had remained painfully silent until he’d finally picked himself up on tired legs and they’d cheered, doing their best to encourage him. But he’d barely heard them as he’d trudged into the back, his hands noticeably emptier than they’d been at the start of the match.

And then, things had somehow gotten worse.

He’d expected to see Alex when he’d returned to the locker room. Hoped to see her. Hoped she would rush over and hug him and tell him something to make him feel anything. But she hadn’t been there. Orange had said he’d just missed her; she’d left and gone back to the hotel. Gone after Kenny. And when he heard that, Adam’s heart had suddenly felt just as empty as his hands.

He laid in bed and stared up at the ceiling, unsure what time it was. He didn’t care. He wanted to go home, but there was no point—he’d just have to turn right back around the day after tomorrow. Plus, he’d booked the hotel room through Thursday. He didn’t want to lose that money, too.

Knock-knock-knock.

He turned his head toward the door, slightly confused. Had someone actually knocked, or had he just imaged it? He started counting. One, two, three, four, five, six—

Knock-knock-knock again, louder that time. And then, Alex’s voice called through the door.

“Adam, it’s me. Please open up.”

He closed his eyes. He didn’t want to see her; not really. He could guess how their conversation would go and he’d rather just avoid it. But he forced himself out of bed, pulled on a pair of sweats, and grabbed his glasses off the nightstand as he shuffled across the room to the door. She’d just started to knock again when he pulled it open. Alex stood on the other side, an anxious look on her face.

“Hey. Can I come in?”

Adam stared back at her in pensive silence. Part of him wanted to tell her no—but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. So, he settled for a smart-ass comment as he let her in instead. “Does Kenny know you’re here?”

A mixture of hurt and surprise flashed in her eyes. But he hardly cared. He was hurt, too. “Yes,” she sheepishly returned. “I wanted to come see how you’re doing.”

He scoffed to himself as he shut the door. “What, were you too busy last night?”

Her face fell. “Don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“Put me in the middle more than I already am.”

Adam bit down on his jaw. He wanted to tell her she’d put herself in the middle, but he knew that wasn’t fair. It wasn’t even true. She wasn’t the cause of these circumstances. He was.

She brought her hands in front of her to nervously pick at her nails. She looked down at them as she talked. “I’m sorry I didn’t come see you last night. But after Kenny left the arena I had to see where his head was at. And even though I’m not thrilled with how he handled it… you know this would have happened, eventually.”

His brow lowered. “I know what would have happened eventually? That Kenny would abandon me?”

“No,” she returned with a frustrated huff. “That you and him would lose the tag titles… split up. You and Kenny aren’t FTR or the Young Bucks; you’re not meant to be a tag team. You’re meant for other things—bigger things. And now you can go after them.”

Adam rolled his eyes. He wasn’t in the mood for platitudes. “Oh, so is that what he told you last night? That he wants to move on to bigger and better things?”

“Yes. Don’t you?”

The quickness and bluntness of her answer surprised him. It also put him on the defensive. “I don’t know, Alex, I haven’t really thought about it. I’m kind of still processing last night.”

He moved past her to sit down on the bed. She pivoted to face him. “Look, I hate to say this, but… it’s probably for the best.”

Another platitude. He rolled his eyes.

“I’m serious, Adam!” she proclaimed. “When was the last time you were actually happy tagging with Kenny? Or being in The Elite?”

“Do I look happy now?”

It was Alex who rolled her eyes that time. She was getting impatient with his attitude. He didn’t blame her. Deep down, he was waiting for the day he’d drive her away, too.

She looked back down at her hands. “No. But I think you will be, eventually.”

Adam glanced away. He didn’t have anything to say. He didn’t want to have this conversation.

Alex let out a sigh. “I guess I’ll go.”

She turned and started toward the door. Adam felt his chest constrict as he watched her walk away. “Wait.” She stopped and glanced back at him, her hand on the door handle. “Why’d you run after Kenny?”

He had a feeling he knew why, but he wanted to hear her say it. She looked down at the door handle, her brow knitted together. She was debating whether or not she should actually tell him, he knew she was. But, eventually, she looked back at him and said it.

“Because I’m in love with him, Adam.” And then she went out the door.

* * * * * * * * * *

Callie had hoped she would wake up with a clear head. But she hadn’t. In fact, she felt even more confused than she had the night before.

After Kenny had stormed out of the arena, she’d wanted nothing more than to go to Adam. But she wouldn’t let herself. He’d pushed her away just like he had everyone else. Why should she go running to him?

Because you care about him, her heart said. You still love him.

He wants Alex to take care of him, her head returned. Let her go pick him up off the mat.

“Screw this,” she’d stubbornly said as she’d stood from the locker room couch—right as Matt and Nick returned. And then, she’d gotten angry.

“Why didn’t you go with him?” she’d accosted. The look that Matt had given her was a cross between offense and confusion.

“Are you serious?”

“He just needs to cool off,” Nick had interjected before Callie could respond. He was clearly trying to keep the peace. But it was no use; Matt was already out of the blocks.

“Why would we go with him?”

“Why wouldn’t you go with him?” Callie fired back. “Isn’t that exactly what you want, to start over your little club without Adam?”  

Matt’s brow lowered, darkening his eyes. “Callie, you don’t know—” but he cut himself off, running a frustrated hand over his face. And then he asked, “What do you care, anyway?”

Callie faltered then. She didn’t have an answer for him. She didn’t even have an answer for herself.

“I’m not dealing with this right now.” She stalked over to her bag and bent down to zip it up. Matt watched with parted lips as she stood and pulled it behind her to the door.

“Where are you going?”

“Back to the hotel,” she said. And just like that she’d left. Matt had texted her since, but she’d left him on read. And as she rode the elevator down to the hotel lobby, she realized she still had absolutely no desire to talk to him. To even see him.

We rushed into things. She realized that now. She’d latched onto Matt because she was lonely and hurt and he’d given her the attention she’d so desperately craved from Adam. And now she was worried that it had all been nothing but an emotional mistake.

The elevator doors slid open, and she swiftly made her way to the breakfast buffet, praying she wouldn’t run into anyone. She would just get what she wanted and head back upstairs to eat in the privacy of her room—but before she could reach the plates, someone called her name.

“Callie!”

She winced and whirled around. Cash and Dax sat at a table across the restaurant, plates of food in front of them. Cash waved for her to come over. She hesitated, unsure if she should. But she didn’t want to be rude, so she walked toward them.

“Morning,” Cash greeted with a wide smile. She returned it as best she could.

“Morning, and congrats. Hell of a match last night.” She really meant it. As heartbreaking as the outcome of the match had been, FTR had been the better team last night. They’d won the tag titles fair and square.

“Thank you,” Dax nodded in gratitude. “I hope there’s no hard feelings over us beating your boy. Although, from what I understand y’all aren’t exactly a thing anymore.”

Callie noticed Cash give Dax a hard look out of the corner of her eye. But it didn’t bother her. She’d figured word had gotten around by now that she and Adam were no longer together. “No. We’re not,” she frankly returned. Dax just nodded and sipped his coffee.

“So are you moving back home to California, then?”

She looked back at Cash, caught off-guard by his question. Did he assume that because he knew she was from California, or because he knew she’d been staying with Matt? Either way, it didn’t matter. Because she wasn’t even sure that was what she wanted anymore.

“That was the plan… but I’m not sure how set I am on it now.”

He cocked his head in curiosity. “Why’s that?”

She avoided his gaze, running her finger sheepishly along the edge of the table just to give herself something to do with her hands. “It was a knee-jerk decision,” she admitted. “And after thinking about it… I’d honestly rather move here. Well, to Florida. Not necessarily Jacksonville.”

She looked back up at him. He nodded. “Well, if you’re considering Orlando, let me know. I’d be more than happy to show you around.”

The corners of her mouth turned up. “I am, actually. Thanks.” He nodded again, and Callie suddenly felt like she needed to change the subject. “So, I guess you guys are going to the Labor Day party tomorrow?”

They had to be—they’d be gone by now if they weren’t. Her suspicions were confirmed when Dax made an enthusiastic sound in his throat.

“Hell yeah, we are. What would an AEW party be without the AEW World Tag Team Champions?”

She playfully rolled her eyes. “Not letting it go to your heads, I see.”

“Are you going?” Cash asked.

She drew in a deep breath. “Yeah, despite better judgment,” she said with a wry laugh. “I’m not exactly popular around the locker room these days.”

“Us, either,” he returned. It made her smirk.

“Who cares?” Dax dismissed. “Stick with us. We’ll make sure you have a good time.”

Callie glanced at him, and then at Cash. Something about his eyes made her feel calm. They were so warm and brown. Genuine. She smiled.

“Okay. Maybe I will.”

* * * * * * * * * *

Callie arrived fashionably late to the Labor Day Party. She tried to tell herself it was just because she hadn’t been able to decide what to wear, but she knew that wasn’t it. Even with Cash and Dax’s encouragement the day before, she’d needed to drum up the courage to go. A glass of rosé at the hotel bar had gotten her in the Uber and through the doors of Daily’s Place, but she’d need another drink if she was going to hang around.

The din of music and voices greeted her as she walked into the party. She glanced around, looking for a friendly face, only to realize she was subconsciously looking for Adam. She chastised herself and tried to push the thought aside—but she stopped. Adam was nowhere to be seen. She scanned the room again, just to make sure; he always stuck out at things like this. But again, she didn’t spot him.

She did, however, spot Alex. She was on the opposite end of the room, a wide smile on her face as she stood tucked into Kenny’s side talking with Cody, Brandi, and Tony. She probably knows where Adam is, she thought. But she ignored it and made a beeline for the bar. She ordered her usual and pulled her phone out of her purse to text Cash. They’d exchanged numbers yesterday, and she hadn’t spotted him, either—

“Hey.”

Callie’s mouth went dry. She locked her phone before she looked up at Matt. “Hey.”

She expected him to look angry, hurt, annoyed, something. But it didn’t look like he felt any of those things. His face was an unreadable mask. The bartender set her cocktail on the bar top. She picked it up and took a long sip.

“Didn’t care to tell me you were coming?”

There was some emotion. Aggravation, with a bit of resentment around the edges. She had to swallow before she could answer. “You knew I would be here, Matt,” she breathed. “The whole roster is.”

“Adam isn’t.”

Callie went rigid. That was more than just a statement. It was an accusation. “So when you didn’t see either of us here you thought what? That we were off somewhere else together?”

“That’s not what I said.”

“You didn’t have to.”

Matt’s jaw flexed and he glanced away, caught. “Look, I’m sorry, alright? But can you blame me? You haven’t said a word to me since you bit my head off Saturday, Callie.”

Her eyes hardened. “I didn’t bite your head off.”

He scoffed. “You kinda did.”

“Well, can you blame me?”

“Hey.”

Kenny cautiously cut in. Alex peered at them from around his shoulder. Callie let out a breath and took another drink.

“I don’t mean to interrupt… but Tony wants to talk to us about that thing.”

Matt put his hands on his hips. But he nodded. “Yeah, fine,” he said, and he stalked away without a second glance.

Kenny turned back to Alex. “I’ll let you know when we’re done and then we can get outta here.”

“Okay,” she nodded, and he pecked her lips and went after Matt, leaving Callie and Alex suddenly and awkwardly alone.

“I’m just here to get another drink,” Alex said as she stepped past her to the bar. Callie hesitated. She knew she should just walk away; but she couldn’t help herself.

“Hey… have you heard from Adam at all?”

Alex glanced at her over her shoulder. She didn’t answer right away. “Um, yeah. I asked him if he was coming today and he said he didn’t feel up to it. But that’s it.”

Callie frowned, but she wasn’t surprised. If she’d been in his position, she probably wouldn’t have come, either.

The bartender placed Alex’s drink in front of her, but she didn’t pick it up. It looked like she was turning something over in her head, weighing whether she should say it. Callie was about to tell her to just spit it out when she fixed her with a hard stare.

“Look, I don’t know what’s going on with you and Matt, and honestly I don’t care. It’s none of my business. But if there’s any part of you that still cares about Adam, I’d suggest rebounding with someone else.”

And with that said, she grabbed her drink and walked away, leaving Callie standing there, a knot in the pit of her stomach.

* * * * * * * * * *

As soon as Alex left, Callie got a text from Cash. He was at the pool with Dax, Shawn, and Shawn’s wife, Peyton, and he told her she should come join them (I think you’ll like Peyton, you two remind me of each other, he added). When she arrived, she was surprised to see they were the only people there. Cash smiled at her from the water as she walked toward the loungers.

“It’s about time! Did you get lost on the way from the hotel?”

She smirked as she set down her things. “Oh, have you been waiting on me?” she asked, only to blush at how flirtatious it sounded. But if Cash noticed, he didn’t seem to mind.

“Well, you have good timing. We were just about to set up the volleyball net and play a game.”

She nodded as she sat down to take off her shoes. “That sounds f—”

Her words died in her throat when she looked up and saw Cash climb out of the pool. Water trailed down his body, rippling over his chest and abdomen toward the low-slung waistband of his swim trunks. Callie felt her mouth go dry again as she caught herself staring at the muscular definition of his shoulders and pecs. Had he always been that good-looking?

“We should do guys versus girls!” an Australian-accented voice pulled her out of her daze. She looked back in the pool and recognized the speaker as Peyton Royce. She had an excited grin on her face that Callie couldn’t help but return.

“Oh, they won’t stand a chance.”

Dax formally introduced them while Cash and Shawn set up the volleyball net across the shallow end of the pool, and Callie stripped down to her bikini and lowered herself into the water. As they were an uneven number, they decided it would be Callie and Peyton versus Cash and Shawn with Dax as the referee. But just before Peyton could serve the ball, four more people walked into the pool area.  

Orange, Chuck, Trent, and Alex.

They all noticed each other at once. Dax muttered something under his breath. Alex came to an abrupt halt, causing Trent to run into her. Callie tensed and looked at Cash, who looked at Alex, who looked at Callie.

And Peyton waved at them. “Oh, perfect! We were just about to have a game of volleyball. Wanna join?”

Callie sank into the water. Perfect.

None of them said anything at first. The silence was awkward as Chuck glanced around at Orange, Trent, and Alex. He shrugged. 

“That sounds like a terrible idea. Let’s do it.”

* * * * * * * * * *

When Alex had told Callie to rebound with someone other than Matt, she hadn’t meant Cash. She thought that went without saying. Still, she’d tried not to jump to conclusions when she’d walked into the pool area and seen them together. After all, they weren’t alone. They were just co-workers hanging out at a company event. That’s it.

But, even if it was completely innocent, it still rubbed Alex the wrong away. She expected Cash to stoop so low—he was a duplicitous prick—but she was shocked at Callie’s thoughtlessness. She was glad Adam wasn’t there to see his ex literally jumping around in the pool with the guy who’d stabbed him in the back and taken his title.

“Hnnh!” she let out a grunt as she sprung up and spiked the ball over the net. It landed with a smack against the surface of the water right in between Callie and Peyton. At least hitting the ball was a good outlet for her agitation.

“Damn, Alex, this ain’t for the title,” Dax remarked from the side of the pool. She glowered at him—but Chuck fired back before she could.

“What’s the score, Dax?”

Dax’s beady eyes turned hard. “Ten-eight.”

“Ten-eight who?”

“Ten-eight you.”

“Damn right, it is,” Chuck muttered. Alex bit back a smirk.

They all reset, and Shawn served the ball. Chuck easily bumped it back, but when Callie scrambled to hit it over the net, it flew straight up into the air instead. Cash rushed forward as it came back down and whacked it as hard as he could—sending it flying like a missile right at Alex. She didn’t even have time to pivot before it beaned her hard in the shoulder and careened off into the water.

“Shit!” she cursed.

“Point!” Dax loudly proclaimed.

“Really?!” Chuck shouted. “You have something smart to say about Alex spiking the ball but nothing about Cash hitting it as hard as he can right at her?”

“Come on, it wasn’t on purpose,” Cash defended. He looked at Alex through the net. “I’m sorry. Are you alright?”

Alex gripped her shoulder as she stared back at him. It stung from the impact of the wet volleyball and was throbbing already. There would undoubtedly be a nice bruise there tomorrow. However, to Cash’s credit, he seemed genuinely remorseful—but then she noticed Callie roll her eyes over his shoulder. She bit down on her jaw.

“I’m fine.”

He frowned, but she turned away and looked at Trent. “Are you sure you’re okay?” he asked.

She nodded. “Serve the ball.”

She rolled her shoulder and turned back to face the net. Trent served the ball. It went right to Peyton and she hit it back over. Orange popped it up, and just like she had before, Alex spiked the ball to the other side.

Crack!

“FUCK!”              

Except that time, it hit Callie right in the face.

Blood poured from her nose and dripped into the pool. Peyton told her to pinch her nostrils and tilt her head forward. Cash rushed to her side through the water. He glared daggers at Alex.

“What the fuck, Alex?”

She opened her mouth to say it was an accident, to assure them it was, but no sound came out. Her vocal cords were frozen.

“It was an accident,” Trent returned.

“Didn’t look like it from here,” Dax chirped.

“Oh, shut up,” Chuck groaned.

“It was an accident!” Alex finally blurted. She looked at Callie’s retreating back as Cash helped her toward the pool steps. “Callie, I’m sorry.”

But she didn’t acknowledge her at all, and then Cash whisked her away, holding a towel to her nose. Thankfully, Dax went with them.

“Well, I guess that’s the end of that,” Shawn awkwardly announced. Peyton shot him a chastising look, and then they exited the pool and left, too.

Alex stared in silence into the water. Her nose burned. She hadn’t meant for that to happen. She hadn’t meant for Callie to get hurt. She didn’t want it to be like this between them anymore. She wanted her friend back.

“Hey,” Trent waded over to her. She felt him put his hand on the small of her back underneath the water. “It was an accident,” he gently repeated. “She’ll be alright.”

Alex’s nose burned even more when he said that. “I’m gonna go see if Kenny’s ready to leave,” she said, and she didn’t wait for a response before she climbed out of the pool, grabbed her things, and left.

* * * * * * * * * *

Steam fogged Callie’s hotel bathroom mirror. She wiped it clean with her hand, frowning at her reflection. The volleyball had left her with not one, but two black eyes—the left was worse than the right. At least it hadn’t broken her nose. But, at this point, a broken nose would have been the least of her problems.

She didn’t think Alex had done it on purpose. She’d said it was an accident and she believed her, no matter how much Dax had tried to convince her otherwise while Doc Samson had examined her. Afterward, as she’d left Daily’s Place with FTR, Tony had asked her if she would be good to wrestle the mixed tag match on Dynamite. She’d almost told him no. Not because of her nose, but because she wasn’t even sure she wanted to wrestle Alex anymore, let alone with Matt. She wondered if he’d heard what happened yet. She was already bracing herself for his reaction.

She dried off from her shower and wrapped a towel around herself as she walked out of the bathroom. She pulled her phone off the charger, and when the screen lit up, she saw she had a text from Cash.

How’s the nose?

She sighed as she typed out her reply. The nose is fine, but the eyes not so much. I have twin shiners.

She tossed the phone on the bed and started to walk away to get dressed, but it pinged again and she looked back at the screen.

That’s alright, you’ll just look like a bad ass for your match.

Callie bit back a grin. She opened the text to write back, but those three dots appeared. Cash was typing again—and she didn’t expect his next message.

Are you up to get dinner? My treat.

Her gaze turned distant as she stared at the text, her thumbs hovering over the screen. She didn’t know what to make of his offer. Was it platonic? Did he feel sorry for her like he had when they’d gotten dinner last month? Or was it something more?

But it couldn’t be something more. It would be way too messy. Messier than Matt.

Then why did she want to say yes?

She shook her head of the thought as her fingers flew over the keyboard. Thanks, but I’ve already decided on room service and trash TV tonight. But I’ll take a rain check?

She bit her lip and hit send before she could stop herself. The three dots popped up near instantly.

I’m good with a rain check. How about tomorrow? I was actually gonna ask if you wanted me to show you around Orlando since you’re here.

Callie’s eyebrows arched. In trying to dodge a bullet, she’d only to given him more ammo. “Fuck.”

Knock-knock-knock.

She jumped at the sound of someone at her door. “One minute!” she called. She tossed her phone aside and hurried to get dressed, thankful for the interruption. But when she pulled open the door, her stomach dropped.

Matt. His brow furrowed with concern when he saw her. “Jesus, are you alright? I heard what happened at the party.”

“I’m fine,” she said. “Who told you?”

“Tony,” he answered. And then, “And when I asked where you were, he told me you left with FTR.”

Callie fidgeted with the door handle. “Yeah. They gave me a ride back to the hotel. I didn’t really feel like sticking around after getting hit in the face with a volleyball.”

A short, breathy laugh escaped Matt’s lips and he looked away down the hall. Callie’s brow furrowed. “Is that a problem?”

“What’s going on, Callie? I mean, just over a week ago you were in my bed, planning on moving back to California, and now you’re avoiding me.”

His eyes bore into hers. Hurt, angry, just like they’d been when he’d confronted her at the party. Callie had to look away. It gutted her to see it.

“You can’t even look at me.”

“I’m confused, okay?” she blurted. “This all happened way too fast.”

Her heart pounded in her ears and her chest constricted. She hadn’t wanted it to come out like that, but she felt backed into a corner. And if Matt had looked hurt before, he looked positively betrayed now.

“Yeah,” he nodded. “Yeah, I guess it did.”

And with one final hard look he turned and left, and for the second time that day Callie was left alone and even more conflicted than she’d been before.