#and she doesn’t really have anyone else besides her one friend who drove her somewhere today

[victory-cookies]

in a really fun situation where, because of the aforementioned incident, I really really don’t want to drive again for a little bit bc it’s making me absurdly anxious, but my sister, due to her aforementioned though undisclosed situation, needs a drive somewhere tomorrow without the parents knowing

[novamirmirsblog]

FwB minor safe

THIS IS SAFE FOR MINORS. and by minors I mean 15+ cause there's still some kissy kissy and implied sex. AND SWEARING. Seriously tho, no under 15s reading this.

When you had first met Natasha, she hated you. Or at least that’s what it seemed like. She ignored you, refused to train with you, and when she did train with you, you always ended up in the medical bay, and she always, always had something to say when you came back from a mission. You had really hoped to at least had a friendly acquaintance with the other woman on the team. You always had Wanda but she was often pining after a certain red synthezoid. You only realised Natasha wanted to be friends when Clint let it slip that she was like a cat. He was clearly sick and tired of the two of you constantly fighting and wanted it to end. Or perhaps it was Steve who finally wanted it to stop. It didn’t really matter who because now you had a way in.

Your friend’s grandmother used to rescue stray cats and while Natasha certainly wasn’t a cat, you figured the same rules applied. First, you would make extra food when you knew she would be there, telling her there were leftovers if she wanted them but never pressuring her into eating with you. Then, you slowly began just sitting in the same room as her, always a distance away from her so as to not make her uncomfortable. Eventually she began to warm up to you, even going as far as letting you sit on the same sofa as her.

Things all changed one night when Natasha came back from a mission gone wrong. She had been given bad information and the data she was supposed to collect wasn’t there. She was pissed. Steve called you into the lounge and told you to stay out of her way if you valued your life. It made you slightly nervous. The two of you were friends but you weren’t that close. Not close enough to know for sure whether or not she would hurt you. Everyone retreated to their rooms and locked their doors, not wanting to be in the way of an angry Black Widow. Because that’s who was coming back. Black Widow, not Natasha Romanoff.

You couldn’t sleep that night so when you saw a figure enter your room, it scared you shitless. You grabbed the gun from under your pillow and pointed it at the figure.

“Who the fuck are you?”

“That’s kinky babe and maybe we should revisit that idea but right now I want to fuck you senseless.” Natasha - no the Black Widow’s voice spoke out in the dark. It was that kind of muffled sound that you only heard in the depths of the night when no one else was awake.

You lowered your gun but didn’t take the safety off. Just in case.

“There’s no need to be nervous darling. I’ve seen the way you act around me.” Natasha walked towards where you were on the bed, leaning down and lifting you by your chin up to her lips. “Just tell me to stop and I will.”

You moaned as Natasha’s lips connected to your neck, roughly sucking and biting her way to your collarbones. She leaned you back and wrapped a hand around your neck as she looked at you. Even in the darkness, you could see how black her pupils were and feel how heavy her breathing was.

“I need you to understand that this doesn’t change anything. We are still just friends.”

"I understand." You leant up to kiss her but she just laughed as she pushed you down and kissed you harder, leaving you alone once she had finished playing with you.

Nights like that became routine between the two of you. If either of you had a bad mission, or were just feeling lonely, you would end up in your bed. It was never Natasha's bed and most of the time Natasha was in control. Occasionally however, if you had a particularly bad mission or Natasha had seen unspeakable things, she would relinquish control and you would savour every minute of it. Perhaps if the two of you were dating, you would be able to have control more- no you couldn't think like that. It was a dark hole that you couldn't go down.

Somewhere between the rough nights and the friendly movie nights the two of you had, you had fallen for the fiery woman. Natasha made sure that you always remembered that it was just a 'friends with benefits' arrangement by never sleeping in your bed. It was a tricky balance for her though because she would cuddle you all the time during the day. It was almost as if she regretted sleeping with you.

The friendly flirting between the two of you drove the team absolutely crazy. It was like everyone except you two could see how perfect you were for each other. You just fit together. Yet whenever they asked either of you about it, you both denied it vehemently with a sad look in your eyes. The team had had enough. They were done with the two of you fucking, flirting and then crying yourselves to sleep when you both realised you didn't have the relationship you wanted.

It was Wanda's brilliant idea to have a game night. She had watched a sitcom where the characters played truth or dare and confessed their love for each other.

"I'm not so sure that will work witchy." Tony said after Wanda had finished explaining her plan. "Maybe we should play 7 minutes in heaven or spin the bottle."

"Why? How is that better than my plan? All they do is suck each other's faces off. We need them to admit their feelings for each other." Wanda stood up, slightly defensive over her plan.

"I...I think I have a better idea." Steve spoke up and everyone turned to look at him. "How about we kidnap Y/n? Y/n wont believe us if we tell her Natasha loves her and Natasha isn't going to admit it over a game of truth or dare. If we kidnap Y/n and stress Natasha out a little, then she might finally admit she loves Y/n."

The room was silent. "Remind me never to get on the wrong side of you" Clint muttered, causing the rest of the room to break out into a slightly nervous laughter.

"When's Y/n's next mission?"

~~~~~

You were sent out on a routine solo mission. It was something a lower level agent could have easily done but you were happy to get out and away from the compound for a bit. You loved your family but their constant questions about Natasha were getting too much. It was a constant reminder that you guys weren't in a relationship at all. The more you thought about it, the more you tried to convince yourself that a relationship wasn't even what you wanted. You had been on a few dates since your arrangement with Natasha had begun, mostly to throw her off the scent of your growing crush. However, when you returned from your failed date (because they always failed), Natasha was always there to fuck you hard and rough. Sure, she would leave it a few days, distancing herself as much as possible, sometimes completely ignoring you, but she would always come back. The mission was complete and you were making your way back to the Quinjet, too distracted in your thoughts of Natasha to realise someone was creeping up behind you. You were knocked out cold.

When you came to, you were in an abandoned warehouse, tied to a chair. It was all very James Bond like. You tried to look around, but everything seemed blurry.

"I can't believe you hit her so damn hard!" You heard a voice ring out.

"I didn't mean to! Oh my god she's going to kill me." A deeper voice, probably male, spoke.

The voices sounded kind of familiar but you couldn't work out where from.

"Natasha, we found her!" that was the last thing you heard before passing out again.

"I am going to murder whoever did this to you Y/n." Natasha told you as she carried you to medical. She refused to let anyone else touch you and didn't let you out of her sight for one second.

The usually fearless avengers all froze and turned slightly pale. They were 100% going to blame this all on Steve. If anyone had a chance of surviving the Black Widow, it was a super soldier and besides, it was Steve who had knocked you out. Bucky had told him not to use his shield to do it.

You awoke to find yourself in a hospital bed with a very concerned Natasha holding your hand. You gave it a little squeeze and smiled at her.

"Never ever ever do that again. Do you understand me? I thought I lost you..."

"It's okay Tash, I'm fine." In that moment it was so hard to remember that the two of you were just friends, that you would never be anything more than friends.

"Date me."

"What?" You were stunned and not completely sure you hadn't just hallucinated.

"I can't do this friends with benefits thing anymore. I know I was the one who said it was nothing more but I think I'm falling for you Y/n. Do you know why I was so distant with you to begin with?"

"Because you're a cat?"

Natasha smiled, she couldn't even bring herself to laugh she was so nervous. "No Y/n. It was because I really liked you. You walk into the compound all happy and beautiful and I dont know what to do. We would spar and I would get weird tingly feelings wherever you were touching me and it made me confused. I tried so hard to stay away from you but then you started leaving me food, or sitting with me, or trying to make jokes and I just couldn't stay away. When you didn't come back to me on time, I was so scared. I thought you were dead. When we found you..." She ran her hand through her hair, her other hand never letting go of yours. "The relief I felt nearly made me fall to my knees. I understand if this ruins our friendship but I really can't continue on just being your friend. I think... I think I love you." Natasha whispered that last part so quietly you almost missed it.

"I would love nothing more than to date you Natasha. I was so worried that I was reading too much into things and that my feelings were wrong and would ruin everything. It's why I dated other people for a bit."

"Well good. How about we-" Natasha was cut off by an announcement from F.R.I.D.A.Y.

"Considering agent y/l/n is up, Mr Stark request's both your presence in the lounge."

When the two of you made it to the lounge, hand in hand, they all clapped. Natasha scowled and held on tighter to your hand and you just laughed.

"Why did you call us here?" You asked

"Well, the thing is, we don't want to be murdered so we're really hoping you'll stop Natasha from doing anything drastic."

"What did you do." Natasha let out lowly, she knew you shouldn't be up and about, that it was better for you to rest until you were feeling completely better again so she wanted this over as quickly as possible.

"Well...-"

"IT WAS STEVE'S IDEA!" Wanda blurted out. "I just wanted to play truth or dare but nooo. Stars and Stripes over here wanted to make things all dramatic." Wanda waved her hands in the air.

"What was Steve's idea?" You asked, still a little slow on the uptake. Natasha wasn't though. You could feel her becoming tense and you held her hand a little tighter.

"...The kidnaping..." The team hung their heads in shame, trying to simultaneously look at their shoes and keep an eye on Natasha.

The room was completely silent before you burst out laughing. "You're kidding me? You actually kidnaped me just so Natasha would admit her feelings for me? Guys I'm dying." You wheezed as you tried to catch your breath from laughing so hard.

Natasha however, didn't find it nearly as funny.

"Natty, darling, it's fine. They did it because they care." You whispered into her ear, leading her out the room before someone could get easily injured. Getting blood out of carpets was a pain.

"Your days are numbered Super Soldier. I'm coming for you." she said, watching as Steve's face turned completely white before turning and leaving the room with you.

[floraltypes]

Distractions pt. 2

leroy jethro gibbs x reader

tw - mentions of shooting, sex, other things in a ncis episode

an - this is a part 2 to the first chapter. i might do a part three with more action between Gibbs and reader. but i already have some drabbles and a adding reader to a episode planned 🤫

“So, when did you get back?” Your old friend, Elise, asked, the both of you sitting in your living room the day after your night at the bar.

You had previously went to Gibbs house and he helped you rest for a while there, both of you letting your feelings out, but you didn’t know if he thought you would remember because you were drunk when you admitted it.

“Not too long after I told that bartender I was leaving,” You replied to her. She was finally asking about you after bragging about her very sexual night with the bar owner.

“Who took you back? Did you go back with someone at the bar?” She had a teasing tone at the end, wanting to mess with you a bit and get all the details.

“No, there really wasn’t anyone at the bar. I just got a coworker to drive me back. Speaking of driving, shouldn’t that cab you ordered be here soon?” You tried to change the subject, and luckily it was perfect timing.

“Oh right!” She shot up from the couch and rushed over to where her suitcase is, forgetting about you for a moment before waddling back in the too-high, high heels. “Bye! Thanks for letting me stay,” She grabbed the suitcase and left your apartment, allowing you to finally take a breath.

But you could only breathe in the peace for so long until your phone began to rang.

“Where are you?” The stern, deeper voice said into the phone, on the other line. You recognized the background noises of other people, figuring the person was probably somewhere public, or listening to the TV loudly.

“I’m at home? Why does this matter?” You asked getting off of the couch and moving to the kitchen to go and grab a glass of water, all of a sudden feeling a little parched. Gibbs did give you some medicine this morning.

Once you woke up, on the couch... There were pills and water right by your side and he came down at the perfect timing, motioning for you to drink it. He then went to make coffee for the both of you, but once you noticed the time, you made him drive you back to your apartment.

“Do you not look at clocks?” Gibbs sneered, and you could hear him yelling someone’s name yet it sounded a little fainter, maybe he moved the phone away.

“I do. I’m fine on time, what’s your problem?”

“You’re supposed to be at work.”

“No, I told you I was coming in late, like a week ago,” You remind him, specifically remembering how you planned to drop your friend off at the airport, not knowing she was going to get someone else to drive her. But, it was no use still coming in normal time, might as well take the break.

“Well, that doesn’t matter, a petty officer was found dead and we’re supposed to go and investigate. So, get your lazy-ass up and meet us at the address Kate sent you.”

“Got it,” You hung up the phone, rolling your eyes at your bosses usual antics. You figured he probably didn’t really mean the kiss, so you locked away those feelings and got yourself ready to go and investigate.

You were able to meet Ducky and Palmer, driving the large truck, at a stop so they could pick you up. Not your first choice, but the other agents were already too far to pick you up, and Ducky was always so kind to go out of his way.

“Hello, dear Y/n,” Ducky greeted with a smile, getting out of the truck to let you slide into the middle.

“Hey, Ducky. Palmer,” You greeted, moving in. “Mind catching me up to speed with what’s going on?”

And so they did. They told you about Petty Officer Liam who was found dead, apparently gunshot to the head, in a ditch near a cross.

Once you made it onto the scene, a news reporter, police, the sheriff, and the rest of your team all swarmed around where the Petty Officer was.

“Ducky, L/n, you two finally made it,” Gibbs voiced, watching the three of you walk down the small hill to where the cross and not to far the body was.

“Palmer ended up turning to the wrong road,” Ducky responded.

“You told me the wrong street!” Palmer explained, carrying down the bag Ducky needed and some other things to soon move the body.

“Now, now, Palmer,” You sent him a little look, soon walking over to where Todd and DiNozzo was.

“How was last night little drunk,” DiNozzo greeted, putting on his last gloves and handing you a set.

“Shut up DiNozzo,” Kate commented soon turning to you. “Did you end up getting laid?”

“Lord knows Y/n needs it,” DiNozzo added, laughing after his little sentence which let Kate to punch his shoulder.

“I don’t need it. I got home fine, no need for you to know, you just ditched me. So, don’t expect me to help set you up with that girl on the same floor as me, anymore,” You finished putting on your glove and grabbed the wallet near the body.

“Holding a lot of cash?” Kate asked, moving over by you to peer over your shoulder. “Maybe he was getting mugged and it went wrong,”

“The cash is still here. So, it probably wasn’t a mugging,” You answered, then grabbing a card that was present. “But it might his death could have something to do with this bar, seems like he has a lot of used coupons and receipts to there,” You reveled, pulling them out and handing some to Kate while putting the wallet into the bag.

Ducky and Palmer continued to check out the body to figure out that the cause of death was some sort of drug and not the gunshot, it was made to look like that. They would have to take the body back to be able to know for sure, so that’s what they did.

You took some pictures with DiNozzo and Todd and soon head back to Gibbs car, taking the front seat while the other two took the back. It was normal for you to take that seat, but at this moment it seemed odd.

“When we get back I want you to contact his wife DiNozzo, L/n and Todd will do some research about the bar you two found out about it,”

When arriving back to the office you and Kate quickly got to it and found out that in order to get in you had to go in as a couple. Kate talked to some people who had formally went there and one other friend of the petty officer that died and was able to figure out that there was a more secretive area apart of the bar where certain couples were only able to go.

None of the people could specifically say what went on, but figuring that out could lead to you and the other special agents to figuring out who exactly killed the petty officer.

“Gibbs,” Kate spoke, you and her walking over. “Turns out in order to get in you need to go as a couple and then if you say a certain co word, you’ll be able to get in to the underground part of it,”

“Okay, what did you find out DiNozzo?” He turned to DiNozzo who was walking over.

“Found out some passwords to things, hoping probie can then go through and figure out what the password for getting in tonight would be,”

“Who will go undercover?”

“DiNozzo and Todd I want you to stay with Liam’s wife and children, make sure that the person who killed Liam won’t go after this family if Liam still owes him something. L/n and I will go undercover tonight while Probie will be able to patch us all four together,” Gibbs commanded.

“With DiNozzo, really,” Kate looked at him and Gibbs just sent his regular stare. “Okay, DiNozzo it is,” She walked over to the man who was talking to the ‘probie’.

“Uh, Me and Kate could just switch Gibbs,” You told him, standing oddly by his desk.

“No, you and me will go undercover, you’ve done undercover work before,” He quickly told you, standing up. “Go get ready and I’ll meet you back here. Dress up nice,”

So that’s what you did, you left to travel back to your apartment and threw on a nicer dress, still short enough to run if needed but long enough to hide a gun that would be holstered to your thigh. You did your hair, leaving it down, and a light makeup look. You figured out a fake name, Leah Molane, and Gibbs as well, Frank Hater.

When he arrived you looked at him with a small smile, trying to take in his nice outfit for the occasion, and for a moment it seemed like he was trying to do the same. The car ride was fairly silent besides going over your plan.

“Were you able to get the fake ID’s?” You asked, sitting in the passenger seat and messing with your nails a bit while Gibbs drove to the bar.

“DiNozzo knew a guy, and I refuse to ask more,” He laughed a little and handed you your fake idea from his pocket. 

The two of you soon arrived to the bar, it was fairly easier than what it originally sounded like. You showed the man your ID’s and Gibbs snaked a hand around your waist, pulling you into his waist a bit more. 

He was able to find a open table and helped lead the way there. While walking you took a look around, while scoping you found a lot of normal things like couples making out, dancing, drinking, yet the mirror opening up as a door and three people disappearing into it caught your eye. You made it to your seat and the two of you sat right next to each other in the booth. 

“What you got McGee?” Gibbs asked into his watch, it looked like everyone was busy doing their own thing to pay attention to the older man who was speaking into his watch. 

“Abby was able to find out the drug that was put into Liam’s drink that killed him. It changes the original drinks color yellow, so don’t drink anything yellow,”

“We could figure that out on our own,” Gibbs grumbled a little underneath his breath. “What else do you have? That better not be it,” 

“It’s not Gibbs,” Abby now spoke. “We figured out the code to get to the downstairs area!” 

“And what is it?”

The both of you could hear some arguing on the other line, which just seemed to annoy Gibbs more. 

“It’s, uh,” McGee coughed. “It’s ‘sex vault’ boss, I think because its a drink name on the menu or because they have a section where couples can go and have, uh, se-”

“Enough McGee, I just needed the code,” Gibbs turned off his device allowing McGee and them to hear what he was saying. Gibbs turned to you and leaned a bit, his lips hovering over your own. “It would be good for us to kiss now, so we don’t blow our cover,”

“Makes sense,” You hummed, your eyes connecting with his own as you looked up at him. 

“Just pretend it’s just us, like yesterday,” He whispered, before his lips were on yours and moving at a fast pace. It was so much more passionate than the last time. 

“The two of you know this is a VIP area, right?” A woman walked over, the gum in her mouth being obnoxiously loud.

“Yeah, obviously,” Gibbs responded, moving away from your face and grabbing your hand. “We’ll take two ‘sex vaults’,” He told her and the woman went scurrying back off behind the counter. 

“Boss, we found out that there is another Petty Officer that frequented that bar often. His name is Denup and he served the same time that Liam did, DiNozzo is asking Liam’s wife about him and Abby is doing some research on him,” Mcgee spoke into the device that was in yours and Gibbs ear. 

“Got it,” Gibbs mumbled into the watch and soon the woman walked back over. “Find out more and be quick,”

The woman came and beckoned for the both of you to follow her to where the mirror you saw open earlier was. 

“Liam’s wife said she didn’t have too much on Denup but we were able to find a type of journal Liam was keeping with tons of money, it looks like in the journal there are stats on sports,” DiNozzo spoke this time. 

“Denup is also not doing too well finacially, we were able to get ahold of his wife and ask her a few questions. We learned he’s taking on some extra jobs,” Kate spoke now. 

“Abby, Denup’s prints might be in the system, run them with the ones we found on the wallet,” Gibbs quiclly spoke into his watch once the woman left you both. You looked around at a few people chatting and watching the games, there was another smaller bar down here, multiple TV’s, some tables, and a pool table. 

“When doing bets in settings like these, who usually takes care of handing out the money?” You asked Gibbs. 

“The bartender,” He answered. 

“They also said Denup was taking on extra jobs and doing bad financially. What if he is a bartender here and has been scamming people?”

“Liam found out and threatened to reveal what he was doing, which would ruin his chances of getting out of the hole,” Gibbs realized what you were saying. 

“Exactly, but it seems like something is missing. If Denup was doing this on his own, how could no one else catch on? And how is he not out of the whole already. I’m going to assume there are many bets that happen down here, so where is some of that money going?”

The two of you walked up to the bar and took a seat at the two stools that were placed in front of it. 

“You both thinking of making a bet?” “Not with him,” You laughed, pointing to Gibbs. “Man loses all of them, is a loser in general. But what about you, do you lose? What’s your name?” 

“Just call me Denup, that’s what most of the people down here do. Now what would you like, a drink or some cash?”

“I’d like to get.a little tour of your selection back there,” You smiled, getting up from your stool and moving to walk around the corner. 

“Gibbs, his prints match the wallet, but Liam’s ID has a different print itsself,” Abby revealed, once again, speaking into the device in the both of your ears. Gibbs nodded to you, giving you the confirmation to arrest the man. 

Gibbs stood up and pulled out his ID. “Denup, NCIS, you’re under arrest,” 

Denup grabbed your arm harshly, pulling you into his side and grabbing a knife, sticking it to your throat. “Louis!” You heard Denup yell, and watched Gibbs spin around, just in time, to watch another man reach into his pocket, grabbing a gun. Gibbs quickly shot him in his shoulder, the man dropping the gun. You used this opportunity of Denup being in shock to reach down to your thigh to grab the gun and quickly aim it at the mans toe. He dropped the knife yelling, giving you enough time to kick it away and for Gibbs to toss you a pair of handcuffs he had in his pockets. 

“Just NCIS folks, please go back to your drinks,” You said to the shocked people around, you handcuffed Denup and pulled him off the ground. “I know your toe got shot or whatever, but do you think you could at leas try to walk out of here?” 

You and Gibbs left the bar, informing the team you caught the suspects and the police were at the front of the bar, ready to take them into custody. Gibbs told everyone they could go home and offered to take you back since you went together. 

“Successful date night I would say,” He joked once the two of you were in the car and on the rode home. 

“For sure, got a kiss and arrested two murderer’s,” You laughed.

“I hope you know that just because I like kissing you I won’t soften the papers you’ll be filling out tomorrow,” He looked over to you with a calm smile playing on his lips. 

“I could never,” You smiled back. “I do expect you to now be buying me a coffee though,” 

“If that’s all I need to do, it doesn’t sound like the worst thing,” 

[f1nalboys]

Not Doing This For You - Bday Fic

happy bday to @zhellas !!! He wanted this as a y/n fic but this is my first time ever writing for Nancy and I hope I did her justice!!! I hope you enjoy this!

WORD COUNT: 2079

WARNINGS: MASC!AMAB!Reader, nsfw, oral (male receiving), oral (fem receiving), unprotected sex, orgasm denial, public sex, slight blood play? kind of??, nancy is mean heheh, reader is called a slut/whore/other demeaning names, nancy is into the humiliation aspect of it

Nancy fucking Downs. There was something about her that drove you fucking crazy. Maybe it was her smile - or, more often, her scowl - or maybe it was the way she carried herself, how she didn’t give a single shit about what anyone thought of her. Whatever it was, all you knew was that you had the hots for her.

Most nights you’d lay in bed with your cock in hand and just think of all the things you’d do to her. Or what she’d do to you. That was definitely a dirty little secret of yours; all you wanted was for Nancy Downs to suck you off and do whatever the fuck else she wanted. The only problem was that she doesn’t know who you are.

Well, she didn’t until the two of you got stuck in detention together for the next three weeks. What happened with you wasn’t your fault, honest to God, but you definitely knew Nancy had done something to get put in there. She sat down beside you in the classroom, throwing her bag down with a huff.

“Hey, you’re Nancy, right?”

“Why do you care?” Her voice was gravelly, deeper than most girls, and it matched her perfectly. She wore red lipstick, a darker, almost black, color on the edges of her lips. The very lips you had imagined wrapped around your cock dozens of times before. She raises an eyebrow at your silence and you swallow hard, stuttering out a response.

“Oh! No, no, I’m not trying to be, like, an asshole or anything! I’ve just seen you around and thought you looked cool.” She searches your face for any hint of sarcasm and, when she doesn’t find any, she smiles. It didn’t quite reach her eyes but you didn’t care. All that mattered was that she smiled because of you, because of something you said to her.

She turns towards you in her chair and rests her head in her hand. “Yeah, I’m Nancy. Who’re you?” The rest of the hour is spent talking. Not about anything in particular, mainly school related things, but by the end of the day she gave you her number. After you got home, you debated on whether or not you should call her. Would it be too soon?

Your ego told you it was, that you should play it cool and give it a day, but the eagerness of actually being able to talk to her and hear her voice before you fell asleep won and you dialed her number. She answered on the third ring. “Hello? Who the fuck is it?”

“Uh, it’s Y/N, from detention? You gave me your number and I figured, you know, that I should call.”

“You actually called the day I gave it to you?” She asked, her voice teasing. You weren’t sure if she was actually making fun of you, though. The two of you talked for a few minutes before she hung up without giving you a second to say goodbye. When you touched yourself that night you, as usual, thought of her.

After seven detentions and four phone conversations, you finally asked her out. “Hey, Nancy, I was wondering if you wanted to get something to eat with me after this? If you weren’t busy of course.” She accepted without a fight. You both took the bus to this little chain diner and ate, talking for an hour, and when it started to get dark she asked if you wanted to go somewhere with her.

“Don’t look so freaked. I’m not gonna kill you,” She grinned when she said it, grabbing ahold of your hand and pulling you down the road. Her smile was sharp, her teeth bared, and a very small part of you thought she was lying. She took you to a park out of town, one she said she went to with her friends. That made your heart flutter a bit; you were one of those friends, it seemed.

She sat you down at one of the park benches and sat down next to you, placing her hand on your knee. “Y/N, I know you like me.” You cough, caught off guard. She was staring at you with a glint in her eye. “Don’t lie to me either; I hate liars.”

“Y-yeah, I do. How… how does that make you feel?”

She laughs at you, this one tinged with cruelty, as her hand slid up your thigh. “Makes me feel like you’re a pathetic cunt-hungry whore.” Nancy was foul-mouthed but she had never said something like that to you before. Her hand is still moving and she palms you roughly and your legs open involuntarily. “See? You’re such a whore.”

Her words were laced with venom and yet you couldn’t help but love it. She could surely feel the way you were growing hard under her palm and the realization of what was happening hit you like a ton of bricks. “You… are you sure? We don’t have to…”

“Shut. Up.” Your mouth shuts and you watch as she unbuttons your pants. Her mouth was in a thin line, her eyebrows furrowed in concentration. “You touch yourself to me, don’t you? Yeah, I fucking thought so. How many times have you cum thinking about me?”

You swallow hard. You aren’t sure if you were supposed to answer but then she's slipping her hand down your pants and palming you through the thin fabric of your underwear. “Shit! Yes, I did. I do. Fuck, I don’t know how many times.” You keep looking between her hand on you and her eyes that were burning into your own, unable to focus on just one of them at a time.

This was something you had thought about before but never in your fucking life did you actually think it would happen. You’re gasping, her name slipping from your lips, and she’s eating it up. “Such a filthy slut. That’s what you are, you know that, right? God, you’re pathetic, really. You’re lucky I’m doing this, lucky that I even give you the time of day.

With that she's standing up, yanking down your pants which you help her out with by lifting your butt up off of the bench. She pulls your underwear down just enough to pull your cock out and she’s on it, licking it from the base of your balls to your tip. Her tongue was long, almost fucking unnaturally long, and it felt amazing.

She takes you in her mouth, her tongue flattening as she bobs her head. Your hands are on the back of the bench, your knuckles white with how tight you were gripping the wood. She looked ethereal, and that fucking mouth of hers. “God, you’re perfect.”

Looking at you through her eyelashes she narrows her eyes, coming off of you with a pop. Her lipstick was smudged, spit gathered at the corners of her mouth. She kisses you hard, her manicured hand gripping your chin with a bruising grip. Her tongue slips in your mouth and she immediately takes control, her kisses sloppy and hard. When she pulls off of you she bites down on your bottom lip hard, breaking the skin, and she comes back with blood covering her teeth.

“Mmm,” You watch in awe as she swipes her tongue over her teeth, closing her eyes as she savors the taste. When her eyes open they’re darker, stormy, and she leans over to lick across your lip, collecting another drop of blood from the cut. “Don’t think I’m doing this for you. No, I’m using you. I’m treating you like the whore you are.”

She sits down next to you and lifts her skirt up slightly, revealing the black lacy thong she was wearing. “Hurry the fuck up.” You get off the bench in a second and get on your knees, not even bothering to tuck yourself back into your underwear. What she wanted you to do was obvious enough and you hook your finger around the thong and pull it to the side, your mouth attaching to her cunt instantaneously.

She hums as you get to work, your tongue swirling around her clit. You could nearly cum at the taste of her; she was fucking intoxicating. Your tongue prods at her hole, your nose running across her clit and she bucks up into you, her hand grabbing the back of your neck and forcing your face further into her.

“Fuck! Keep doing that,” She moans and your tongue starts moving in and out of her cunt, your head bobbing to help push yourself further into her. You were finding it harder and harder to breathe but you didn’t care, you would rather suffocate than stop eating her out. She was soaked, her juices covering the entire lower half of your face.

She cums without warning, her hips moving quick and all you can do is sit there, holding your head still, as she fucks herself onto your tongue. Collapsing back onto the bench, she watches in amusement as you gasp, sucking in the oxygen you had forgone that entire time. “You taste so fucking sweet,” She rolls her eyes at your words, grabbing your collar and kissing you roughly.

“I know. Now get up here and sit down so I can fuck you.” Your knees feel weak when you stand, sliding onto the bench beside her. She straddles you, her chest pressed against yours, and you hiss as her manicured hand grabs ahold of your cock, lining it up at her entrance. She sinks down onto you slowly, her forehead pressed against yours.

Your hands wrap about her waist and you try to move her, try to set the pace, and her nails dig into the flesh of your arm, thin crescent shaped lines of blood coming up underneath them. “Don’t fucking do that. I’m fucking you, remember?”

“Sorry,” Is all you can get out before she starts rocking her hips, throwing her head back in ecstasy. You felt great too, small moans and gasps of her name slipping from your lips. This spurs her on and she lifts her hips, pulling off of you almost completely, before slamming herself down onto you. She does it four times in quick succession before slowing down slightly.

She starts rocking her hips each time she comes down onto you and the sound of her arousal is loud, almost obscene. Your thighs are wet, her wetness dripping down off of her onto you. “Fuck, you feel so good,” You grunt and she lets out a breathy laugh, followed by a long moan. Unable to help yourself, you thrust up slightly and she gasps.

“Fuck! Do that again, it felt good,” You grin and thrust up again, hitting the bundle of nerves inside her, her walls clenching around you. Her arms wrap around your neck, holding you there and she pulls you in for a kiss, slipping her tongue in your mouth. Neither of you break your pace as her tongue swirls around your own.

You can feel her getting close, her pace sputtering and curses spilling from her mouth. Another thrust and she’s cumming, slamming down onto you and twitching. It’s intoxicating the way she falls apart, her ‘bad’ persona cracking as she whimpers your name. You were close yourself and you have to bite your tongue, hard enough to draw blood, to stop from begging her to move.

She smiles at you when her breathing evens out, a glint in her eye, and she lifts herself off of you. You’re coated in her cum, your thighs and part of your jeans soaked. Your eyebrows furrow together and you stare at her, confused. She shimmies her underwear off and tosses it at you. “This was fun.”

“Wait, I didn’t…”

“Cum? Yeah, I know. I was fucking you, remember, whore?” The sound of an approaching car spurs you into action and you tuck yourself back into your jeans, your face burning at the sight of yourself. You were painfully hard, unfairly hard, and you loved it. Loved that she would use you the way she did without bothering to get you off as well. Something about it was incredibly fucking hot. “Keep those. Maybe you can give them back to me in detention.”

She flashes you a wicked grin and walks off, the bus approaching. All you can do is swallow the lump in your throat and follow her.

[ilici]

221141425 201912

Summary: Karl is shopping for bunny tails to buy for Y/N, and when it finally arrives, he thinks about hand delivering it.

{Numbers mean Bunny Tail}

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1221

Karl aimlessly scrolled through amazon, seeing rather horrendous looking bunny tails, most of the bunny tails that showed up, were based off of Lola from Space Jam. He was slowly growing frustrated at the fact that he could not find a good bunny tail. Chris, who was sitting beside him, was starting a fire while Jimmy was buried beneath them. “You okay Karl?” He asked, seeing Karl just scroll through his phone, with a determined face. “I’m fine, just looking through twitter.” He said, looking at the camera giving a smile and a thumbs up. After the camera cut, Karl got up, “I gotta get back, Sapnap is supposed to be getting here today.” He said, and Chris nodded patting him on the shoulder.

Karl had lied, Sapnap wouldn’t be getting to his house until tomorrow night, and he drove home about to call Corpse for help on buying the tail. Corpse was informed of everything that has happened between Karl and Y/N, and Corpse was proud to say the least. He knew Karl liked Y/N, and the fact that Karl was going to hand deliver a small gift to her, made him proud. “I just don’t know what to do.” Karl complained, while Corpse spoke through the car speakers, “Maybe look somewhere else other than Amazon?” He asked, “I can look through websites, and we can share bunny tails and see which is best?” Corpse suggested, and Karl sighed, “Yeah that will work.” He said, pulling into his driveway. Switching to his phone, he continued talking to Corpse as he walked up to his room.

Now here they were, twenty minutes into the call when Karl’s eyes lit up, “I found it!” He said excitedly, and Corpse asked for him to send the link. “Yeah, that one is good.” He said, and Karl bought it, from Etsy. “It’s supposed to be here in about two weeks. Which is good, since Sapnap is supposed to be here for a week starting tomorrow.” He said, and Corpse hummed in response agreeing, “Does anyone else know what’s happening between you and Y/N?” He asked, and Karl flushed, “No. Just you, since you have a thing for cat ears, I figured you wouldn’t think I was weird.” He spoke, and Corpse just laughed agreeing. “Well, do you know where she lives?” He asked, and Karl nodded knowing Corpse couldn’t see him, “Yeah, she lives with Niki and their other roommate in the UK.” Karl said, fidgeting with his rings. 

“She lives in the UK? She’s German isn’t she?” He asked, and Karl quietly laughed, “Yeah, but she moved with Niki.” He explained, and Corpse just nodded, “Well I am gonna get off here so I can wake up early enough since I have to do something for Mr. Beast.” He said, as Jimmy was going to get out of the coffin tomorrow. Hanging up, Karl opened his photos, going to the video of Y/N in the blue bunny outfit, he watched it with amazement. Clicking off, he opened messages and texted Y/N wishing her goodnight, as she was probably asleep. In reality, Y/N was awake talking to Corpse, panicking over the fact that she is terrified that she is catching actual feelings for Karl. Y/N wasn’t good with long distance relationships, she actually moved with Niki to the UK to be with her ex boyfriend more, but it turned out he was cheating on her the entire time.

“Corpse I don’t know if I can do this.” She admitted, and Corpse just frowned, “Y/N these past few weeks that I have gotten to know you, I know you are strong. Karl is one of the most sweetest and kindhearted people I know. Probably the most alongside Sykkuno. Those two are the sweetest people in this entire world, and you were lucky enough to get one.” He said, and Y/N smiled at this, “So were you.” She joked, and Corpse laughed shaking his head, “Shut up.” He said, and bid her goodnight as it was one in the morning for her. “Sleep well Corpse.” She said, and sighed looking up at her ceiling that was adorned with a painting of the sky. The moon and stars glowed in the dark, she and Niki had painted it together when they first moved in. “Is he actually going to hand deliver me a tail?” She mumbled to herself, before letting out a strand of curses.

Waking up the next day to Niki shaking her awake, “You’re going to be late for work!” She said, and Y/N dashed out of bed, getting dressed. “Have fun!” Niki said, and Y/N groaned, “I have to close today, so I’ll be a bit late.” She told her, as she got out of the door waving bye to her other roommate. Niki was now texting Karl, helping him set up a date to come, and helped him pay for his plane ticket. Karl was now helping dig Jimmy up, more excited as he now had booked a plane ticket to go and surprise Y/N. “Bye Jimmy! Please shower you reek.” Karl said, as he drove home to Sapnap already there. Karl told Sapnap about Y/N and got some advice from him as well, Sapnap also asked what she had looked like, and Karl nearly panicked when he thought he was going to have to show Sapnap the video of Y/N. Instead he thankfully had a FaceTime photo of Y/N wearing the blue bunny ears, and showed him that instead.

“Do you like her?” Sapnap asked, now that they finished the stream of them playing Minecraft together. Karl looked away and shrugged, “I mean, she’s a nice girl, and she’s absolutely gorgeous. I guess I will find out my actual feelings for her once I meet her in person.” He said, and Sapnap looked at him, “You’re going to go see her?” He asked, and Karl slowly nodded his head, “When?” He asked, and Karl shifted in his seat, “Next week on Tuesday.” He said, looking at his hands, then at Sapnap. Sapnap just looked at him, and nodded his head, “Good luck buddy, she seems really nice.” He said, and Karl smiled, “You don’t think it’s weird?” He asked, and Sapnap shook his head, “Not at all.” He said, grinning at his friend. “Thanks Sap.” He mumbled, “Anytime.” He said, and the two headed off to bed.

Y/N just got back from work, she took an taxi since she isn’t able to drive yet. She has a license, but she doesn’t trust herself to drive, she’s too scared of wrecking. So she either takes an taxi home, or Niki comes and picks her up. “I’m home!” She yelled, and Niki smiled walking into their living room. “Hey I won’t be able to pick you up Tuesday, my friend is doing it for me, I have to do something with Wilbur that day.” She told her, and Y/N frowned, “Who is the friend?” She asked, and Niki quickly lied, “It’s actually Phil’s wife, Phil and her are going to be in town for a meetup.” She explained, and Y/N nodded, “Goodnight.” She said, walking to her room changing into pajamas, texting Karl a goodnight message.

[redhoodieone]

Fucking Perfect

A/N: Hey, y’all!!! Here’s another fic that was actually a request from @jasontoddslut. I hope you all enjoy!

WARNINGS: Language, violence, and smut!

It wasn’t that late. With a DVD and a large free pepperoni pizza in hand (the pizza was actually a “thank you” from a local pizza owner after Jason saved his life), Jason couldn’t help but keep smiling underneath his red helmet as he drove to his and Danielle’s home. They were supposed to have a night in; no distractions, no interruptions, and no patrolling, for him at least.

But Bruce had called him for help last minute around 9:00 because Joker decided to break out of Arkham Asylum with every other inmate, from Harley Quinn to Scarecrow. To say the mission was bizarre as hell wouldn’t be exaggerating. Jason and Dick laughed their asses off the entire night because it was like a high school reunion for all of Gotham’s villains. Even Bruce couldn’t help but grin a little when he saw the Riddler and Penguin link arms and skip down the street behind Bane, Two Face, Mr. Freeze, and Killer Croc.

It was one hilarious but memorable sight.

But now all Jason could think about was getting back home to Danielle as he speeds down the streets on his bike from Arkham while holding the box of pizza and DVD. Just thinking about a hot shower, cuddling with Danielle on the couch under a fluffy blanket, and just falling asleep in the comfort of their home makes him consider giving up the vigilante life sometimes.

He wondered what his life would be like not being everyone’s hero.

No more subtle or dangerous injuries. Staying in bed the entire night. Having the ability to go here and there and do everything normal like others. Maybe even settling down somewhere in the countryside, where he can finally retain his own property, perhaps build himself his own auto salvage business where he’ll specialize in fixing and rebuilding expensive, fast cars and bikes.

Having something to call his own has always been a secret dream of his. Only Y/N knows all that.

Jason could just see it now: waking up early to see the beautiful sunrise from the safety on the ground, arm wrapped protectively around his wife, who would be pregnant with their child...

He initially tenses up at that particular thought. Jason has never even spoken about his desire to have kids. Hell, he has always boasted about hating kids; often complaining about them being bratty, loud, and just being unbearable little shits.

Jason even pretends to despise Dick and Barbara’s five-year-old son, Tommy, just because he enjoys pissing them off. But in all honesty, Jason loves his nephew and knows damn well that if anything were to happen to Tommy...Jason would fucking kill them in a heartbeat.

Fuck, even Barbara gets on Jason’s ass about when he’s finally going to settle down and have kids of his own. She and Dick make the normal, perfect life look easy. They were brave and strong enough to walk away from the vigilante life, only promising Bruce that they’ll help him every now and then and only for big emergencies.

Jason couldn’t believe it at first. Dick and Barbara just happily moved to a safe, typical suburban but luxurious home far away from Gotham. They made it look so effortless and picture-perfect.

With Dick and Barbara gone, all Jason has is Tim and Damian around. Which isn’t much considering they have their own lives.

And Jason used to have Y/N, his best friend.

Before Jason’s thoughts could consume him more, he pulls up to the private parking garage at his penthouse. After he parks his bike, he climbs off and removes his red helmet; quickly inhaling air after sweating so much. Holding the helmet underneath his left arm, he carries the pizza and DVD and heads to the elevator.

He sighs heavily; his back hurts like fuck after being thrown around a lot from Killer Croc. He wonders if it would be completely sexist or just entirely fucked up if he asks Danielle for a backrub.

We’ve been together for two years. She knows my line of work, and if she really loves me, she’ll give me an all-body massage...and besides...this is the first time I’m asking for one anyways, he thinks to himself.

The elevator dings and opens for him; revealing the private floor that is his, courtesy of Bruce. If it weren’t for Bruce, Jason wouldn’t have the luxury of such a private and quiet place to call home. Bruce owns the entire building, mostly business associates and employees live and stay here anyways.

Jason walks to the door and opens it; is actually quite stunned that it’s unlocked. Mostly because he’s OCD about that, even if this floor and this entire building is private, Jason still likes to take precaution.

The guy fucking grew up on the streets and has seen and done bad things. Really bad. But he’s not like that anymore. Oh, no he’s not. Now, Jason lives by his new principles, but that doesn’t mean he’s not a badass anymore or is violent by nature. He is still Jason Todd.

Stepping inside his penthouse, Jason kicks the front door shut with his heavy boot and sets the pizza and DVD on the entryway table. He puts his helmet back on and quickly pulls a gun from his thigh holster. Jason takes this seriously, just as with any mission or recon.

He quietly goes down the hallway, immediately notices their bedroom door is cracked open and a light is on. He raises his gun and says...

Fuck it. I’m going in with my gun. Hope this all ends well with no blood.

Jason kicks open the bedroom door and has the most fucked up, perfect view of his girlfriend, Danielle, in bed with another man; a man who is on top of her, fucking her underneath the covers, IN THEIR BED!!!!!

Danielle gasps in surprise. “Jason! What-what are you doing home so early?!” she panics. She sits up and pushes the man off of her. Her tits are on display, after the blanket falls from her chest.

The male brunette is shocked at seeing Jason. The naked man uses the sheet to hide his lower body. Jason thinks this guy is a fucking tool. He’s shaking badly, and he’s sputtering like an idiot.

“Oh, oh God! This is Jason? You’re with fucking Red Hood? Oh, my God...OH, MY GOD! This guy is gonna kill me, Dani! He-he has a fucking gun in his hand! I’m gonna fucking die!” the man cries out.

“SHUT YOUR GODDAMN FUCKING MOUTH, YOU PIECE OF SHIT!” Jason yells from underneath his helmet. The voice changer that’s built into his helmet makes him sound more dark...even demonic. But Jason could care less about anything and everything right now. All he can think about is beating the shit out of this guy. “WHO THE FUCK IS THIS?!”

Danielle runs a hand through her messy long red hair, and sniffles. She’s actually...crying?

“This is Paul-”

“Don’t fucking tell him my name! Jesus Christ! Are you trying to get me killed?!”

Jason aims his gun and shoots near Paul’s head. The loud, piercing sound fills the room. The bullet hits the wall, but nonetheless scares the shit out of Paul.

Paul covers his eyes and cries. “Of fuck...please don’t kill me. Oh God, please don’t...”

Jason removes his helmet in anger and throws it down. His green eyes are already red-rimmed. He won’t admit he’s crying...God no...his allergies must be acting up.

“So, what the fuck, Dani? You’re seriously sleeping with someone else?” Jason asks, rhetorically of course. “In our house...underneath our covers...in our bed?!”

“Jason, please. I-I didn’t want you to find out this way,” Dani says.

“But you wanted me to find out?” Jason snaps, suddenly moves closer to the bed. Paul moves backwards away from him. “You wanted me to find out, but just not this way? JESUS CHRIST, DANI! What the fuck were you thinking?! Why the hell would you do this to me, after everything we’ve fucking been through!”

“Because you weren’t here! You weren’t here tonight!” Dani yells.

“What the hell does that mean? You decided to cheat on me because I WASN’T HERE TONIGHT?!”

Paul slowly stands up with the sheet. “Maybe I should leave...” he mumbles.

“How about I show you the way out, BUDDY?!” Jason spits out. He grabs Paul’s throat and drags him across the bedroom.

“DON’T HURT HIM! PLEASE DON’T HURT HIM, JASON!” Dani cries out.

Jason was seeing red. He couldn’t see or think straight at all. With a huff, Jason slams Paul down to the floor and drops down to beat the fucking shit out of Paul. His fist keeps coming down hard and fast, and he definitely ignores Paul crying, pleading for him to stop. Jason even ignores the sight of a lot of blood and bones cracking underneath his punches.

“STOP IT! JASON, STOP HURTING HIM, PLEASE!” Dani screams in horror, pulling Jason back by grabbing his leather jacket.

When Jason finally stops, he realizes Paul’s face is almost disfigured because of the blood and swelling, but he doesn’t care. At all.

Jason shoves Dani away from him and glares down at Paul. “Here’s what’s going to happen, Paul. You’re not going to open your fucking mouth. You’re not going to tell anyone about my home. You’re not going to tell anyone about me. Your injuries? You’re going to tell everyone you got your pansy, white ass jumped in an alley and that you obviously lost the fight. And you’re going to walk out of here naked. You’re not going to look at Dani, not talk to her, not even think about her, you’re just going leave. NOW.”

“B-but what about my-my clothes?” Paul stutters.

Jason quickly collects all of Paul’s clothes and opens his bedroom window. He pulls out his lighter and lights the clothes on fire. Jason drops them over the railing. “You don’t need them. After fucking my girlfriend in my home and in my bed, you bet your homewrecking sweet ass that you’ll be walking home in nothing but shame and remorse. Now, get the fuck out of my house before I break your legs next.”

“Yes sir. I’m sorry, sir. No one will ever know about this,” Paul rambles on as he struggles to stand up. Once he does, he quickly leaves the bedroom but not before mumbling. “Why couldn’t she date Green Lantern or-or Batman. Wait! Not Batman! Anyone but Batman and Red Hood!”

As the front door slams shut, Jason turns to face his naked girlfriend, Dani. He feels his chest tighten, causing a pain he hasn’t felt since he was a kid and lost his mother and home. He wants to cry in front of her, maybe even scream at her, but all the anger he felt before is gone now. Jason’s only left with a sense of sadness and he doesn’t even know what to do about it.

The silence is killing them. He’s no fool. He can see she’s trying to hold herself together but is failing immensely because she’s looking up at him with those sad, puppy dog eyes.

But a thought quickly crosses his mind: only Y/N’s puppy dog eyes make him give into her. Every time. Y/N’s Y/C/E eyes weakens him, and he always wants to please her when she looks at him.

But Dani’s eyes don’t. There’s no sense of comfort and warmth in them like Y/N’s.

“I’m...I’m so sorry, Jay,” Dani begins.

“Don’t call me that. You don’t get to call me that anymore,” Jason interrupts angrily. He doesn’t even know why she’s apologizing. He knows he can’t forgive her. He won’t forgive her.

Dani scoffs. “You can’t seriously be pissed off at me. You’ve fucking cheated before. You’ve slept around like Bruce does. You can’t fucking hold this against me! I gave you a chance!”

“You’re forgetting that I used to do that!” Jason yells. He runs a hand through his messy dark hair and growls under his breath. He needs someone to calm him down. He needs someone to tell him everything’s going to be all right. He needs the comfort and warmth only one person has: Y/N. Jason realizes he needs her now more than ever, and that scares him a bit. “I haven’t done any of that shit since we’ve been together. The second I realized that I was in love with you, I changed. I changed because I wanted to be with you! And you bringing up my past to try to justify your actions is fucking wrong, Dani.”

“Cry me a fucking river, Jason,” Dani spits out.

“Nope. Not this time. Get the fuck out of my house.”

Dani doesn’t put up a fight. She gets dressed, packs a bag of her things, and tells Jason she’ll be back for the rest later. She does glance at him one last time before she walks out though.

“The thing is...I needed my boyfriend, not a hero.”

The door slams shut, leaving Jason frozen in place. The silence is deadly; he can feel his thoughts racing and screaming loud in his head.

He needs Y/N.

Jason needs his best friend.

Tears force themselves out his eyes as he calls Y/N.

“Hello?”

Jason pauses, and he wonders if he’s making a mistake. Maybe she won’t come. He hasn’t been a particularly good friend to her lately. “Y/N, I need you. I...need you, please...”

“I’m on my way.”

Jason knew he was in deep shit after he finished off a new bottle of whiskey before Y/N came over. He couldn’t help himself. After he hanged up with her, he ripped off his costume and stripped down to nothing but his white Calvin Klein boxer briefs. He felt like he couldn’t breathe, even after lowering the thermostat to 62 degrees.

Perhaps the end of his real first serious relationship was suffocating him mentally and physically. He’s never lived with a girlfriend before either.

He was about to open a new bottle of whiskey just as the front door opens and closes.

“Jason?” Y/N calls out.

Jason whips around fast and grins. He’s buzzed, but not quite drunk yet. “Y/N!”

Y/N is stunned to see Jason in nothing but his underwear as he runs to her and embraces her hard. She stumbles back a bit, but he captures her easily to steady her and holds her tightly to his chest.

“You’re soaked...and cold,”

“It’s raining outside like it always does,” Y/N giggles and gently pushes Jason back a bit. “Let me take off my coat and get warmed up.”

Jason allows her, watches intently when Y/N takes off her raincoat. She’s wearing her black and red plaid pajama pants and a Metallica t-shirt he’s positive she stole from him. She kicks off her booties and displays her light blue fuzzy socks he adores.

Jason knew Y/N had to have been in bed when he called, but she came anyway. She always comes to him because she’s always there for him.

She’s always been here for me, hasn’t she? Why haven’t I seen it before? He thinks to himself.

Y/N smiles softly and reaches a hand out to Jason. He takes it, almost hypnotized by how he does anything she wants. She leads them to the couch, but not before she sees the pizza box and DVD on the entryway table. She raises an eyebrow at him.

“That...was my failed attempt at romance tonight,” Jason admits sheepishly.

Y/N shakes her head, but still smiles. “It doesn’t have to go to waste. We can eat the pizza and watch the movie, right? I mean...only if you want to, of course,” she says.

“Only with you, sweetheart.”

Y/N releases his hand and quickly grabs the pizza and movie. She meets him in the living room where Jason’s already sitting down. She smiles and puts the DVD on. But before she sits beside him, she heads over to the kitchen. She returns with two cans of soda and napkins.

Jason looks down when her soft, small hand reaches out to him...only to take away the unopened bottle of whiskey. “No more tonight...please.”

He can’t help but nod his head. She’s right, he’s had enough to drink. He can’t numb his feelings and thoughts anymore. That’s why when Jason starts crying, he doesn’t feel embarrassment or anything. Y/N’s seen him at his best and worst; and she’s still here no matter what.

The movie is playing, but they’re not watching it. Jason can’t even hear it. When he looks up to see why, he can only see Y/N looking at him.

She doesn’t ask why he’s crying. Jason knows Y/N’s caring nature is all about comfort and understanding. That’s why he doesn’t move or say anything when she scoots closer to hug him. The second she wraps her arms around his neck, he cries freely. He embraces her; allows her scent of cinnamon and sandalwood calm him down.

Jesus Christ...has she always smelled so good? Fuck...this perfume is making me hard right now. Jason shamelessly thinks to himself.

“It’s okay, Jay. What you’re feeling right now, it’s not forever. You won’t feel like this again anytime soon. I promise,” Y/N whispers. She runs her hand through his hair. “I’ll always be here for you. Always and forever.”

Jason opens his eyes and pulls back to see Y/N. Clarity finally hits him. His heart beats faster when he looks down to her soft lips and back up to those puppy dog eyes, that he loves so much. She looks back at him with the same intensity, he wonders if she recognizes what he’s just realized.

“You’ve always been mine, haven’t you?” Jason whispers.

Y/N smiles as she runs both her hands up and down Jason’s chest. “It took you long enough to see it,” she answers.

“I’m a fucking idiot,” he says, nodding his head in agreement.

“No, no you just made a mistake and now you’re going to give me what we both deserve,” Y/N says softly.

“Yes, ma’am.”

Jason finally kisses Y/N. He wanted to slam his lips against hers, but he knew she deserved better than that. He takes his time and allows their mouths to move together, so they can really feel each other. But the second Y/N opens her mouth for more, Jason can’t say no and deny her that.

He tastes her as thoroughly as he can, but he wants more. He pulls away and asks her with his eyes. When she nods her head, he gently pushes her back onto the couch and climbs on top of her so their pelvis’ touch appropriately.

“I would take you to my bed, but I have to burn it because it’s seriously fucked up, doll,” Jason says in between his kisses. “Another man’s cum is stained all over my blankets...in case that’s not clear enough, Dani cheated on me.”

Y/N caresses Jason’s cheek and gently smiles at him. He was expecting her to cuss about Dani or get uncomfortable about talking about what happened, but Y/N did neither of those things. Her eyes said it all.

“It’s okay,” Y/N whispers. She leans up a bit to kiss him. “I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”

Jason closes his eyes and sighs. Y/N was here, and she’s not going anywhere. And that’s all his heart needs to move forward.

When he opens his eyes, Y/N sits up a bit to take off her t-shirt. She’s braless. Jason’s sharp intake of breath is evident when he can’t take his emerald, green eyes off her perfect tits. Jason helps her remove her pajama pants, along with her panties and socks.

His cock is painfully hard in his underwear. Seeing Y/N’s naked body underneath his is giving him all sorts of naughty ideas, but he knows what he really needs right now.

Y/N knows, too. She bites her bottom lip and pushes down Jason’s underwear, revealing his hard cock. She briefly takes in how thick his dick is and how delicious the precum is smeared across the head.

“I promise I’ll take my time learning what you taste like and what makes you cum. I just...I just need to feel...” Jason struggles out, but when Y/N touches his chest, he inhales deeply. “I need to feel warm. I need to feel...you.”

Y/N nods and looks deep into Jason’s eyes. “Feel me, Jay. I want you to feel all of me.”

Jason bravely pushes his cock inside Y/N’s pussy. He closes his eyes and breathes hard. She was everything he was hoping for. He loved the way her walls were tight, warm, and wet. He lowers his forehead to hers and he bathes in the way she moans. Jason pulls back a bit to look down at her; he smiles at the way she bites her bottom lip and throws her head back.

“Fuck...Jay move, please,” Y/N moans.

He’s more than thrilled to do her request, especially when she moans out his nickname only she can call him.

Jason moves his hips. His cock shifts in and out of her steadily before he thrusts deeper. Y/N wraps her arms around him and meets his thrusts so his cock can hit her g-spot. Jason was proud at that moment for having a cock shaped well enough to hit Y/N’s g-spot; he desperately wants to make her cum so hard.

“Oh, fuck...you feel so good, princess. Do you like taking my cock like this?” Jason moans out.

Y/N moans and wraps her legs around Jason’s waist. “Y-yes! Your cock is so big. Please go harder. I-I want to cum!” Y/N cries out.

“Fuck yeah, I’ll fuck you harder! I want you to cum with me! I want to feel you cum on this big cock!” he’s panting, he’s giving her everything she wants.

Jason fucks her harder, slams his hips against Y/N’s body. He’s already on the verge of cumming, but he can’t help it. Y/N’s moans are affecting him. Her tight heat is hitting him harder than ever. He knows this’ll be over any second, but he promised her he’ll take his time when they do it again...maybe for round two tonight.

He lowers a hand to rub her engorged clit as he thrusts faster. He’s so close. He’s so close to a hot release and he wants her to cum with him.

“Cum with me, princess. I want to feel you cum so hard,” Jason pants out, his thrusts are crazy and uneven.

Y/N raises her hips so Jason thrusts five times to make her orgasm. She cries out his name. She cums hard and all over his cock. Her walls tighten around him, and she’s sure her body goes into shock. When Y/N looks up with lustful, hazy eyes, she sees Jason’s face contorted in amazement at her.

More than satisfied, Y/N pinches her own nipples and bites her bottom lip. She wants Jason to cum now.

“Cum in me, Jay. Fill me up with your hot, delicious cum. Mmm...I can’t wait to taste it. I want to suck your big, hard cock next,” Y/N says seductively.

Jason’s face adorably scrunches up as his release hits him. He thrusts a few more times, cumming hard like she did, spurting every drop of his cum inside her. His moans drive her wild. He breathes heavily and continues to ride out his orgasm until he has nothing left to spill inside.

He pulls out and drops beside her, but quickly holds her so she doesn’t fall off the couch.

Because just imagine getting a concussion after having an orgasm.

Y/N hums in the afterglow of sex with Jason. She rests her head on his chest as he rubs her back. He kisses her forehead softly. He feels more than okay now but knows there will be plenty to talk about after the sexy haze fades.

Thoughts of living in the countryside flash into his mind. Watching that sunrise, with Y/N’s in his arms, and she’s carrying their child in her womb.

That perfect life appears real now. His dream doesn’t seem impossible to achieve. With Y/N there, everything seems possible.

“Are you okay now?” Y/N asks softly.

Jason grins and looks down at her. He doesn’t quite know what to say but figures he should try.

“With you in my arms, I’m fucking perfect, princess.”

[the-scandalorian]

Tempered Glass: Chapter 4

Pairing: Din Djarin x Female Reader Rating: M (will become explicit) Word Count: 6.6k Warnings: slow burn, canon-typical violence, non-graphic description of blood and injury, cursing, alcohol consumption Summary: You and Mando choose Sorgan as your place to lay low, only to get wrangled into a risky job. Notes: I didn’t post last week, so have two chapters! Taglist: @bbdoyouloveme​​ @beskarhearts​​ @dincrypt​​ @honey-hi​​ @just-me-and-my-obsessions00​​ @red-leaders​​ @zoemariefit​​

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Image from The Art of Star Wars: The Mandalorian

The next few days passed in a haze of planning and training. You helped instruct the villagers in hand-to-hand combat alongside Cara and firearms training with Mando. When Cara asked why you happened to be proficient in both skills, you told her that working with the clientele you did occasionally necessitated self-defense. That was true enough.

After a day or two, however, you decided it was best to leave the blaster training up to Mando. You focused on assisting Cara, who was good company, and joined the crew that was constructing barricades and digging trenches.  

It was irritating to feel a tinge of jealousy at the comfortable way Mando interacted with Omera so soon after meeting her. She was beautiful and clever, welcoming and kind. You understood her appeal. Still, despite yourself, you were annoyed by their borderline flirtatious interactions.

You could practically feel Mando’s heart drop when Omera was the only villager to raise her hand when he asked the group who knew how to shoot. He looked like he might actually be in physical pain as he watched her hit the pan she was aiming for over and over in quick succession during target practice. He was visibly tense, holding his shoulders back uncomfortably far as he regarded her, deeply impressed.

You were honestly even a little nettled by easy relationship that had developed organically between Cara and Mando. Their connection was strictly platonic, but they acted like they’d been friends for years. 

Why is it so different with me?

Both of these developments were irritating, but what really drove you to avoid Mando was your frustration at yourself. This wasn’t the plan. You weren’t supposed to get invested or attached—both because you’d part ways soon enough and because you were witnessing Mando get attached to someone else.

It was easy enough to limit your interactions with him during the day. You spent what little spare time you had playing with the kid and the gaggle of children that followed him around to squeal at every adorable flap of his ears, or wandering through the forest. You always stayed closed to village, but it was relief to get some time alone. As nice as it was to have regular company—something you’d wanted for so long—you also missed some aspects of your solitary existence. It was simple and comfortable. It was what you knew best.

***

At night, you made sure to stay away from the barn as long as possible so Mando could have plenty of time to eat and do whatever else he did with his helmet off.

Each night, you would approach the barn after dark had fallen, making sure to stomp loudly up the steps. You’d stand off to the side of the doorway and knock, waiting to hear the telltale sound of beskar dragging across the wooden windowsill and the subsequent hiss as he fit the helmet back over his head.

The fourth night, however, when Mando arrived back at the barn in the early evening, he stopped at the doorway.

You had stacked every box, crate, and stray item in a line down the center of the back half of the room to make a barrier that was as high as your shoulder. You’d hung a sheet across both sides, so you each had an enclosed space.

“I know it doesn’t fix it, but I thought it might make you feel better? I promise not to get up with out warning you... I know you’ll probably keep your helmet on anyways, but I have to imagine sleeping in it is killing your neck, and since you won’t let me figure out somewhere else to sleep, this is the best I could come up with,” you stopped rambling, punctuating the end of your sentence with a decisive nod.

“Thank you,” he said.

You were relieved—and slightly surprised—when later that night, after darkness had fallen and you were tucked under your blankets, hovering on the edges of sleep, you heard a hiss and a thunk, which you registered as him removing his helmet and setting it on the floor. It was slightly harder to fall sleep knowing that Mando was only feet away from you, helmetless.

The warmth that blossomed in your chest at this display of trust stayed with you well into the next day.

***

The next night, after a long day of training, you were back in the barn, getting cleaned up before bed. Mando, having just entered, was untying the knot in his cape. The kid was standing in his crib, tiny hands gripping the bars, watching you and Mando with eager curiosity.

Seated on a crate, you pulled the necklace that was tucked under your shirt over your head, preparing to wash the sweat and grime of the day off you. You leaned over to stow it in a tiny zip pocket on the outside of your bag, when you felt a tug on the thin gold chain. You looked down at your hand, thinking the child must have tottered over when you weren’t looking. But, looking up, you saw that he wasn’t near you. He was still standing in his crib, and he whined at you, his tiny hand outstretched. He seemed concerned, his eyes squinted and forehead wrinkled in concentration.

You looked from the necklace in your hand to the kid and back.

“What the—?”

You glanced at Mando. He was watching you, the cape he was folding frozen in his hands. He dropped the cape and strode over to the crib to grab the child, hugging him tight to his chest. He turned to leave the barn, walking to the doorway. The child struggled against him, until his big ears and eyes appeared over Mando’s shoulder, a tiny hand stretched toward you again.

Curious, you opened your hand and straightened your arm, offering the necklace on your palm.

The baby’s face wrinkled in concentration once again. Mando was almost out the door when the necklace jerked out of your hand and flew across the room. The chain hooked on one of the kid’s tiny fingers. He grasped it, and the purple crystal at the end of it clinked distinctively when it collided with Mando’s pauldron. Mando stopped dead in his tracks.

Your jaw dropped. Mando whirled around, adjusting his grip on the child so he could see the necklace clutched in his tiny hand, the pendant swinging back and forth like a pendulum. The baby was cooing and wiggling his ears in triumph. His other hand grabbed at the crystal.

Mando’s entire demeanor shifted in the space of a second. He stopped breathing and crossed the space between you in a few long strides, raising a hand to point a threatening finger at your chest.

“You can’t tell anyone.” The anger in his voice failed to conceal the fear underneath it, even through the modulator.

“I won’t.” You were absolutely bewildered by this development, but you’d never do anything that would endanger the child.

Mando stayed frozen like that, his hand outstretched. In his arms, the child tittered and cooed, examining the object clasped in his tiny hands.

“Mando, I promise. I won’t.”

He nodded, dropping his accusing hand, and looked down to gently extricate the necklace from the three-fingered hand it was wrapped around. You could see the reflection of the baby’s huge, imploring brown eyes in Mando’s visor. The baby let out a frustrated huff in protest and began to whine in earnest when Mando successfully disentangled the necklace.

He thrust it back into your hand, turned on his heel, and left.

The Mandalorian has a baby... Jedi? And he does not want to talk about it.

***

After two weeks of preparation, the day finally arrived. Tension was high among the villagers as the final arrangements were made. The plan was reviewed, and finally, the sun began to set. You and Mando headed back to the barn to gear up.

It only took a few minutes for Mando to grab all he needed. Slinging his rifle across his back, he walked toward the doorway and paused. He turned around to face you.

“We’re headed out. You’ll make sure the kid is safe with the others?” he asked.

“Of course. Be careful out there.”

“You too.” He gave you a curt nod and swept out the door.

You gathered what you needed, delivered the child to the building that was designated for children and a couple caretakers, and took your place with the villagers behind one of the barricades. You shared words of reassurance with those around you.

The night passed in a blur of adrenaline. You had been put in charge of one of two groups of the villagers who were capable of fighting. Omera led the other. Mando and Cara attacked the raider’s camp, drawing them out of the forest. The Klatooinians rushed the village, purposefully funneled to the open space between your group and Omera’s by the barricades, and the AT-ST stuttered into view shortly after.

The villagers were roughly trained soldiers, but in the end, it was enough to scare off the Klatooinians—especially once Mando and Cara managed to lure the reluctant walker into the trap, incapacitating their largest weapon.

Halfway through the fight, your blaster jammed, so you traded it for one you took off a dead Klatooinian. It was large and awkward in your hands, but it did the job well enough.

When the walker fell and the remaining Klatooinians turned tail, the villagers began to cheer, letting their guard down immediately. Mando and Cara disappeared into the woods after the retreating raiders to clear out any stragglers.

You scanned the dark scene from where you stood behind the krill ponds to ensure that every Klatooinian had left. When you turned back toward the village, you noticed an injured raider, who had been lying on the ground, lurched to his feet. He started towards Omera, who was kneeling beside an injured villager, tending their wounds, with her back to him. As he stood, he pulled a long knife from is belt.

“Omera!” you yelled. She looked around at the sound of her name and exclaimed when she saw the man charging her, only a few feet away. Her hands scrabbled along the ground around her, trying to locate her blaster. The other villagers in the vicinity, caught off guard, froze and watched in horror.

You fumbled with the safety on the unfamiliar blaster in your hands, feeling slow and awkward. Fuck.

You sprinted forward to position yourself between Omera and the Klatooinian, catching him off guard and meeting his face with the butt of the heavy blaster. He growled in pain, closing his eyes for a moment as he reeled back, slashing the air blindly with his blade. You took the chance to kick him in the stomach, putting all your weight behind it. He doubled over, but managed to throw out his arm as he stumbled backwards, just as you were drawing your leg back. You cried out in pain as his blade bit through the meat of your calf.

Omera, who had recovered behind you, shot the raider before he hit the ground.

You staggered back, breathing hard, and sat on the ground abruptly, gritting your teeth at the sharp pain. He’d cut deep into your muscle, leaving a laceration as long as your hand. Bacta would fix you well enough, but it hurt like a bitch. It was bleeding freely, thick droplets of blood running down your shin into your boot. Without thinking, you ripped your shirt off over your head, leaving you in just your breast band, and wrapped it tight around your calf to staunch the bleeding. Several villagers rushed over to help you, but you waved them off, reassuring them that you had it under control.

Omera knelt beside you, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder. “Thank you for having my back,” she said genuinely.

You smiled at her and covered her hand with yours: “Anytime. Thanks for having mine.”

You heard the familiar clank of Mando’s armor behind you. He must have finished flushing out the nearby trees. He crouched next to you.

“What happened?”

“Knife wound. Not bad. I’ll be fine.”

Blood was rapidly soaking through the thick fabric of your shirt. Okay, I might need stitches.

“You need stitches,” Mando said, verbalizing your thought.

“Yeah.”

“I can do those for you,” Omera offered. “Let’s get you somewhere more comfortable.”

“Thank you,” you nodded.

She threaded a hand under your arm to help you to your feet. You started to get up.

“I got her,” said Mando, waving Omera away. She moved back.

You were too focused on the stinging pain of your leg to process what he meant. Mando got to his knees and leaned forward to slip an arm under the crook of your knees and one around your back. You flinched at the feeling of the cold beskar on your side.

“Mando, I can walk,” you protested, surprised, as he lifted you. You instinctively wrapped an arm behind his neck, while your other hand held tight to the shirt around your calf.

“You’re losing too much blood.”

His chest plate was cold against your exposed skin, sending a shiver down your spine.

You were surprised when he turned in the direction of the barn where the two of you slept, instead of toward the structure that had been designated for medical care. On the way there, he poked his head into the room where the kids were hidden. The child chirped happily up at the two of you from where he was seated in Winta’s lap. Satisfied, Mando turned to carry you the rest of the way to the barn.

If you weren’t exhausted and in pain, you’d probably be more acutely aware of how exposed you were in just your breast band in his arms. You would probably be enjoying the easy way he was carrying you.

He stepped onto the porch in one stride and strode inside, setting you down gently on your blankets. You lay back immediately, bending your injured leg to keep the pressure steady with a tight grip on your shirt. You closed your eyes, trying to not focus on the pain. You heard Mando rummaging around.

“My med pack is in my backpack,” you said. “Will you hand it to me?”

But when you opened your eyes, you saw that he already had his own med pack open on the floor next to you.

“I have anesthetic bacta spray. I’ll use that first so you don’t feel the stitches.” He held up an aerosol can to show you.

Knowing how expensive that was, you protested: “No, no, save that for something more serious. I’ll be okay. I’ve had stitches before.”

“It’ll be easier for me if I know I’m not hurting you,” he insisted, a note of genuine concern in his voice.

“I can handle it.”

“No.”

“What do you mean ‘no’? Yes, I can. I’ve done it before.”

“Will you just let me do it?” he asked, exasperated.

“Are you okay though? Don’t you have any injuries?”

“No. Beskar,” he replied, tapping his chest plate. “Just let me do it,” he pressed with an imploring head tilt.

“Okay,” you agreed reluctantly. “Thank you.”

He moved down to your calf, taking the shirt gently from your hands. When his fingers brushed yours, you registered that it wasn’t a glove you felt—his hand was bare.

You closed your eyes again, trying not to fixate on the feeling of his bare skin on yours. Plus, you still weren’t sure if seeing his bare skin would somehow violate his Creed.

He peeled back the fabric slowly. You winced.

“The worst of the bleeding has stopped,” he said, using the shirt to wipe away the drying blood on your skin. “I’m applying the spray.”

You nodded vaguely, then hissed through your teeth at the sting of cold spray on your leg, but the effects were immediate—the pain disappeared instantly, completely.

“Ah, fuck, I forgot how good that stuff is. I got so used to getting patched up without it.”

He let out a grunt of agreement. “Stay still.”

“I will.”

You glanced down at Mando, appreciating how out of place he looked, his large metal form crouched over your leg, administering precise medical care with careful movements.

Feeling like you were in good hands, with the pain gone, you let the fatigue overtake you. Your eyes drifted closed.

Sometime later—you weren’t sure how long in your hazy state—you felt Mando move beside you. You opened your eyes, and he was on his knees by your shoulder, his gloveless hand hovering a couple inches above your arm like he wasn’t sure whether or not he was going to touch you. You gave him a sleepy smile, and in a sudden movement, he lowered his hand the rest of the way down to your bare shoulder.

I guess it isn’t against the Creed to reveal your skin to someone else.

“I’m done.”

“Thank you,” you replied, reaching up to pat the hand on your shoulder. You kept the gesture brief, concerned that your touch might prompt him to pull his hand away.

He didn’t.

His hands were softer than you were expecting.

“Rest,” he instructed. “I put water next to you.”

He stood to leave, the weight of his warm hand retreating with him.

You tried not to overthink how tender Mando had been with you. You didn’t want to process what it meant or the fact that it sort of left you swooning. Though, maybe that was the blood loss.

As you drifted to sleep, you thought about what the future might hold. It was a relief that the fight was over and the village was safe, but it also meant your job here was done and it would soon be time to leave Sorgan. You weren’t sure what this meant for your partnership—if you could really even call it a partnership—with Mando. Would you go your separate ways now?

It wasn’t until the next morning—when you were examining the precise row of stiches on your calf—that you realized, with great dismay, you’d exposed the scar on your chest to Mando, Omera, and a handful of other villagers.

***

The following evening was a celebration. The entire village stayed up late into the night eating, talking, and drinking in the long hall.

After dinner, you were five shots into a drinking game with Cara when Mando rejoined the two of you. You were drinking a clear liquor, something stronger than spotchka that you didn’t know the name of.

Mando sat down stiffly across from you, watching the two of you howl with laughter over a joke he’d missed.

“I was just here half an hour ago. How are you both already drunk?”

“We’re efficient,” said Cara in a mock-serious tone.

“You want to play, Mando? I could get you a straw,” you offered.

He tilted his head, and the sassiness of the gesture made you cackle.

Cara laughed heartily, slapping her hand on her thigh: “I guess that’s his way of saying he can’t handle his booze.”

“What exactly are the rules of this game?” he asked.

“We stopped worrying about the rules awhile ago,” you admitted.

“So who’s winning?”

“Me!” you declared, reaching for the half-empty bottle once again.

“I don’t know about that,” said Cara, skeptically, snatching the bottle and unsteadily pouring two more shots. She handed one to you.

“Maybe you guys have had enough,” Mando said, reaching out to take the glasses from Cara.

“Maybe you’re not the boss of us,” you sassed, knocking his hand out of the way and tipping the proffered shot down your throat. You were drunk enough that it didn’t burn anymore.

“We’re celebrating, Mando!” Cara proclaimed before she downed hers too, and you both laughed at the long-suffering sigh that Mando let out.

A woman that Cara had been spending most of her free time with sauntered over to your table and leaned down to whisper something in her ear. Cara smirked.

“If you’ll excuse me, I have some business to attend to,” she said, standing and taking the woman’s hand.

“Have fun,” you said, winking.

“You too,” she shot back.

You turned to Mando: “Welp, looks like you’re my new drinking buddy.”

He sat silent, helmet following Cara and the other woman as they left the hall.

“Oookay, then. I’m going to bed.” You slapped your palms onto the table and pushed yourself up. 

Mando followed you as you stepped out into the cool night.

“Where’s the kid?” you asked.

“Asleep already.”

“That’s good. Babies need sleep.”

“He’s fifty.”

You turned to Mando, spluttering, “Fifty?!”

“Different species age differently,” he shrugged.

“Yeah, no shit... Still, that’s crazy. You have a fifty-year-old toddler. Your baby is older than you...I mean, I assume so. I don’t know how old you are. If I had to guess, I would say... Is that rude? I probably shouldn’t guess...”

Not paying attention, you started wandering in the wrong direction, and Mando laid a guiding hand on your lower back.

“Come on,” he sighed, directing you toward the barn.

You pushed out the loudest, most dramatic sigh you could muster, and he looked down at you.

“That’s you. That’s what you sound like. You looooove sighing, you know that? It’s your favorite thing, second only to the kid. You might like it even more than the kid, actually,” you mused, making yourself chuckle.

“You’re a chatty drunk,” he observed.

“Everyone is chatty compared to you, Mando.”

He grunted.

“What are you like when you’re drunk? I want to see that. Do you even drink?” You stopped walking, and he did too, visor trained on you.

“Sometimes.”

“I bet you’re a nice drunk.”

“You think so?”

“Yeah, no, I know so. Because secretly you’re a nice not drunk person so I bet you’re an extra nice drunk person.” Somewhere in the back of your mind, you registered that your usual verbal filter was completely gone. Oh well.

“Is that right?”

“Yep, you pretend to be all scary with your sexy voice and your blasters and your bounty hunting and your fire bracelet and your shiny outfit, but really you are soft, and you love babies and helping people and carrying injured friends.”

“My sexy voice?” He titled his head suggestively.

“Really? That’s what you took from that?” You hiccupped. “Don’t pretend like you don’t know what your voice sounds like. This is the way.” You hit him with your best Mando impression.

He chuckled.

Your mouth fell open, and you pointed up at him, incredulous. “You laughed.”

“I did.”

“Well, don’t do it too much or I might start to think that you’re a real human being under all that.” You gestured at his beskar.

“We wouldn’t want that,” he said, and you both started walking toward the barn again.

“Look at you, making jokes.” You tripped slightly, and Mando steadied you.

“My boot is untied,” you announced, flopping onto the ground unceremoniously to tie it.

Mando set his hands on his hips and leaned down to watch you.

You held a palm up to him. “Before you do it, I’ll sigh for you,” you said, letting out another exaggerated exhale.

He crouched down in front of you and batted your hand away, pulling your laces tight to knot them.

“You’re trying my shoe,” you said stupidly.

“Yeah, because you’re taking too long.”

“You don’t have to wait for me, you know. I am perfectly capable of getting back by myself. You can go to bed.” You waved dismissively in the direction of the barn.

“I’m not going to leave you out here drunk and alone.”

“See.” You tapped a finger against his chest plate. “Soft.”

“I guess so.”

“Andddd, I think you still feel the need to babysit me because you don’t trust me.”

He looked up at you. “That’s not true.”

“Convincing.”

He shook his head and stood up. You reached out both hands, and he gripped them, pulling you to your feet.

“How’s your leg?” he asked, replacing his hand on your back.

“Oh, it’s good. You make very tiny, very neat stitches. I was impressed. I assume you’ve had lots of practice.”

He hummed.

You hiccupped again.

“You okay?”

“Yes,” you scowled up at him. “I’m not even that drunk.”

He pushed your shoulder lightly, and you stumbled.

“Hey! That’s cheating!”

“Proved my point though.”

Putting all your weight behind it, you shoved his arm as hard as you could in retaliation. He didn’t falter. Taking a different tack, you snaked a hand under his arm and tickled his unarmored side. He leaped away from you.

“WHY!?” he grunted.

“You’re ticklish!” you announced triumphantly.

“No. I’m not.” But he was careful to stay more than an arm’s distance away from you.

“Yes, you are! But don’t worry, I will take your secret to my grave,” you promised solemnly, placing a hand over your heart. “It wouldn’t be good for business if everyone knew the greatest bounty hunter in the parsec could be bested via tickling.” Your voice cracked, and you dissolved into giggles.

Mando halted and turned to you, putting his hands on his hips again.

“Oh, Mando, lighten up. I’m just teasing you.”

In two decisive steps, Mando closed the distance between you, crowding you backward. You looked up at him, surprised, unable to get a read on him. “I didn’t mean—.”

In one swift movement, he hauled you over his shoulder.

“Hey!!”

He chuckled and tightened his hold around the back of your thighs. You surrendered quickly, going limp. His pauldron dug uncomfortably in your stomach, but otherwise, it wasn’t so bad.

“That is the second time you’ve laughed in the last five minutes. Are you feeling okay? Are you sure you didn’t sustain some sort of head injury yesterday?” you asked.

“Pretty sure, but I’m starting to think you might have.”

“Hilarious. You know, I could still tickle you like this,” you threatened, trailing a hand down his side.

“Not if you don’t want me to drop you,” he warned, jolting you slightly to demonstrate.

You huffed. “You can’t just cuff me or pick me up any time I’m inconvenient. That’s not how friendship works.”

“I think it works well for us,” he said as he climbed the steps to the barn.

***

The following two weeks were a period of peaceful recovery and restoration. You, Mando, and Cara helped the village return their home to normal—disposing of the dead raiders, breaking down the AT-ST, taking down the barricades, filling in the trenches. Every day, as there was less and less to do, you wondered when Mando would broach the topic of leaving. You had a feeling he, like you, was also putting it off for as long as possible. You were enjoying the easy routine you’d fallen into, spending time with the kid, Mando, Cara, and Omera; you’d happened into a community and were loath to leave it.

You were seated on the porch of the barn, watching the clouds roll slowly across the sky, when you noticed Mando making his way over.

As he walked toward you, you admired (not for the first time) the way the soft, green light of Sorgan danced across the surface of his beskar. You looked him up and down surreptitiously, wondering if he’d always worn such an elaborate outfit or if it had evolved over time. You knew the armor at least had been replaced. But had he always worn a cape? And like three layers of clothes? And the sash-like bandolier? You weren’t familiar enough with Mandalorian culture to know if they strapped all of that on as kids or if they donned the armor at a certain age...or how any of it worked.

Your eyes paused at his middle. Weren’t utility belts usually worn lower, on the hips? Not cinched closer to the trimmest part of the waist? It did seem to secure the softer part of his armor that covered his stomach, so maybe it had to be positioned there. The idea that Mando had thought about his silhouette when donning his armor was absurd... but something told you that it was not impossible. Honestly, you hoped the belt was just as much for fashion as it was for function because that was too funny. The man wears a cape... it is definitely possible that more than one part of his outfit is both aesthetic and practical.

You definitely weren’t complaining. You enjoyed the view.

You wondered if he fully understood the nature of his effect on people. He was acutely aware of how intimidating he could be; he wielded that advantage liberally and expertly, but you were unsure if he was aware of his appeal. It wasn’t just you who was drawn to him in that way—Omera, for one, was immediately taken with him. And you saw how others in the cantina that first day, or in the Sorgan public house, or even here in the village trailed their eyes down his body when he wasn’t looking.

Your face burned slightly at the memory of telling him he had a sexy voice. You were grateful you hadn’t admitted anything more embarrassing, and that he hadn’t brought it up again. To your relief, that night of joking with him had shifted things slightly—he’d been a little more relaxed around you since.

Mando walked up the steps and leaned on the wall of the barn, joining you on the porch. He glanced down at you.

“How was your patrol?” you asked.

“Good, no sign of any raiders.”

You nodded and let silence hang between you for a long moment.

“That fight was too much action for a backwater town like this though—word travels fast and it’s been a couple weeks. We should cycle the charts and move on.”

Your eyes found the child, who was seated amidst a group of children in the middle of the village. He looked so happy, giggling and playing outside in the sun. Krill flopped on the ground around him.

“I know you’re right, but the idea of taking him away from this place is... hard to think about. He’s so happy here.” You nodded your head toward the baby.

Mando heaved a sigh. He stared forward as he said, “I’m leaving him here. Traveling with me—that’s no life for a kid. I did my job, he’s safe—”

You were shocked.

“Your job, Mando? Your job was to turn in an innocent child for a bounty, and you knew that was wrong, so you didn’t. After that, he became your responsibility, not just a job.” The words fell out of your mouth before you could stop them.

You looked away from him, suddenly cold. He said nothing.

“I don’t understand you. You flip flop between being heartless and being caring. How do you go from saving him to leaving him in some random village? He’s attached to you. Please, explain it to me because I don’t understand.” You made no effort to hide the venom that was seeping into your voice, as every frustration you’d felt toward Mando over the last couple weeks bubbled to the surface at once.

You looked up at him. His helmet was trained on your face.

“He’ll get over it. We all do.”

You glared up at him.

“Why don’t you stay here with him? You could settle down with Omera. You know she wants you to stay.”

“She asked me to stay, but I don’t belong here.”

“You could if you wanted to. Don’t pretend like you don’t have a choice.”

You stood and walked away, leaving him on the porch. You couldn’t stand to look at his infuriatingly blank mask for one more second.

You stomped all the way to the forest’s edge and passed under the cover of the trees. You walked until you reached a clearing surrounded by chest-high berry bushes and began to pace back and forth.

What is he thinking?

How could he do that to the child?

How could he just leave him like that?

You knew it didn’t make sense that you would have a say in what happened to the kid, but you couldn’t help the fact that you’d grown attached to them both over the past several weeks. You wanted Mando to be the man you suspected he was—soft and kind-hearted. You didn’t want him to confirm that the moments of selflessness had been outliers, and he was really the ruthless bounty hunter that he looked like on the outside.

But...he was right that his life was not the best life for a child. You thought about your own lonely, unsettled, nomadic existence—not unlike Mando’s. Except, his life also included regular violence in a way that yours hadn’t in a long time. His life would be even worse for a child than yours.

And it made sense that he wasn’t willing to abandon his entire way of life, everything he knew to stay on Sorgan. That was a lot of ask of anyone. He didn’t ask for this.

You’d come out here to calm down but had only made yourself more irritated now that you’d come to the annoying conclusion that Mando was probably right. You huffed.

The threatening crunch of twigs off to your left brought you back to the present moment. You crouched amidst the bramble of berry bushes.

You watched through the tangle of branches as a figure made their way carefully through the forest. They were carrying a long rifle, their face concealed in a mask.

A bounty hunter. A tracking fob blinked in their hand.

Who is their target? The kid? Me? No, it can’t be me. The fob isn’t beeping fast enough. Mando? Cara? Probably the kid. The thought made your heart squeeze.

You stood silently to follow, keeping a safe distance behind them.

The hunter stopped at the edge of the forest, where the view of the village was clear, and set up the sniper rifle on a boulder. You waited to see where the sight was trained before making your move.

Sure enough, the scope was aimed at the baby, who was sitting on the ground beside a krill pond with Winta. Omera was standing in the water, submerging a basket, beside them.

You rushed forward, raising your blaster to the back of the hunter’s head, and pulled the trigger. Birds screeched and took off into the sky in response to the sound.

You smashed the tracker fob under the heel of your boot before rushing back to the village, knowing the ringing shot would have incited panic.

As you sprinted back to the village center, you spotted Mando. He was standing close to Omera, one hand placed reassuringly on her shoulder. The child was held tight in his other arm. Winta was hugged against her mother’s stomach. They looked like a family, the way they were huddled together.

When Mando saw you, he dropped his hand from Omera’s shoulder.

“What happened?” He looked you up and down, inspecting you for any signs of injury.

“There was a hunter in the woods. I took them out. They had a fob for the kid, Mando. They know he’s here,” you panted.

Neither of you spoke, sharing a moment of mutual understanding. You reached over to lightly stroke the kid’s ear. He cooed up at you.

“What does this mean?” asked Omera.

“It means that he isn’t safe here,” responded Mando. The pain in his voice was clear, even through the modulator.

Omera reached out for Mando’s hand, and he took hers for a moment, squeezing it gently before letting it drop.

“I’m sorry,” she said.

He nodded stiffly. “Me too.”

You and Mando both turned to head to the barn at the same time. As you walked beside him, you looked over to find his helmet trained on you.

“I—uh, I owe you an apology. This would be a great place for any child to grow up—safe, loving. I get why you wanted to leave him here. I’m sorry that he won’t be able to stay now.”

Mando reached his hand out, as if to touch your arm, then thought better of it and let it fall to his side.

“You know, I actually did turn him in for the reward,” he admitted. “That’s how I got enough beskar for the new armor.” He gestured at his chest plate, hanging his head slightly, ashamed.

You looked at him, eyes wide in surprise.

“I regretted it right away and went back for him. That’s when I ran into you. Or, I guess, you ran into me. ” He let out a small huff of a laugh.

You grimaced, remembering the pain of slamming into his back.

“I understand why you were mad,” he continued. “But, I didn’t want to leave him here. I’m still trying to work out what’s best for him, but I know it’s not staying with me forever.” The thread of grief in his voice was pronounced.

You nodded in understanding, wishing you could somehow help him carry this profound responsibility. You weren’t sure how to express that, or if he wanted to hear it, or if it was your place to say it, so you settled on something else: “He’s easy to get attached to.”

Mando scoffed, “You’re telling me.”

You smiled at him, and you couldn’t be sure, of course, but you felt like he was smiling back at you.

***

You said your goodbyes and readied yourselves for departure. While you hugged the kids and packed your things, you thought about your next move.

A stubborn, cold part of you wanted to tell Mando to drop you off at the closest planet with a major port. You didn’t like that after just a few weeks, you were getting emotionally attached to the pair. It would be easier, safer, less complicated to return to your solitary existence. Plus, your continued presence added to the risk they already faced. That wasn’t fair to either of them.

The quieter, more truthful part of you wanted to stay with him and the child. It was a relief to not be alone all the time, but this was supposed to be a loose, short-lived alliance, not something that made your heart squeeze slightly when you thought about eventually going your separate ways.

You told yourself you’d wait until he brought it up, see what he wanted, and go from there.

You, Mando, and Cara stood at the speeder, ready to leave. Everyone in the village was there to see you off. After a few final goodbyes, Mando and Cara jumped into the speeder. You handed the baby to Mando.

You were about to grab the edge of the speeder to haul yourself up when he reached down to offer you a gloved hand. You accepted. The gesture didn’t surprise you—he was generally polite by nature. What did surprise you was the steadying hand that moved to your waist as you stepped carefully over crates and supplies to find a seat. He squeezed your side gently before letting you go.

***

You had prepared yourself for a conversation that never came.

As you were leaving the atmosphere of Sorgan in the Razor Crest, Mando turned to you to ask, “What are you thinking for our next move?”

He flicked some switches and pressed a few buttons on the console, and a holo-map of the area flickered into view in front of him. A constellation of planets hovered before your eyes.  

***

Chapter 5

[headinthestaticsky]

The Dusk Calls for me: Jasper Hale x Fleur Swan, Chapter 12

AUTHORS NOTES: None of the characters in Twilight belong to me. All rights go to Stephanie Meyer.

We’re heading into the Finale of book 1 folks... I have so many ideas for book 2... it’s going to be great. Hopefully!

“You get ready, you get all dressed up

To go nowhere in particular Back to work or the coffee shop Doesn't matter 'cause it's enough To be young and in love.”

Love by, Lana Del Rey

Bella was finally going to meet the Cullens officially. All day before I had left to go down there she paced, looking like she was going to be sick. All of the Cullens were cooking Italian for Bella. The only person who I was worried about was Rosalie. She was furious at Edward for even dating her, and when he went public with her... it set her over the edge. Emmett was chopping up lettuce and other vegetables for her while Rosalie begrudgingly held a bowl for him to put it in. I was sitting in the living room with Jasper, he was concentrated on reading some books. It was always entertaining to watch vampires read so quickly.

“Is she even Italian?” Rosalie asked.

“Her name is Bella, Rose... she has to be.” Emmett replied.

“Emmett... you thought I was french just because my name is Fleur. That food was really good though... not like I am complaining. I said.

“Okay I admit I messed up there but, I have to be right about this one.”

“Whatever you say Em.”

“Shut it short-stack.”

“At least I don’t hit my head through small doorways.”

He glared at me jokingly and then rolled his eyes.

“Rose, tell her to stop bullying me.”

“I’m sorry I can’t do that... it’s too funny to listen to.” Rosalie said.

“Ugh, I feel betrayed.” Emmett said, his hands going toward his un-beating heart.”

Rosalie smiled, it was soon dropped though. She must’ve kept thinking about Bella.

“She better eat this.”

“Don’t want to sound gluttonous here but... I was totally eat if she doesn’t.... it’s her lose.”

“Stop trying to make me laugh.”

“I will never stop my attempts to make you laugh.”

“Woo, get a whiff of that, here comes the human!” Rosalie said in a sing-songy voice.

Esme smiled widely, she quickly wiped her hands before making her way over to Bella.

“Bella, we’re making Italiano for you.”

“Bella, this is my Esme my mother for all intents and purposes.”

Emmett raised his hand and waved at Bella with a knife in it. Bella and Esme exchanged a bit of Italian.

“Hello again Bella, hope you’re well.” Jasper said.

“Hey, Jasper... hope you’re well too.”

“You’ve given us an excuse to use the kitchen again. We usual make meals for your sister when she stays over.” Carlisle said.

“I hope you’re hungry.” Esme added.

I could see a nervous look on Bella’s face, I probably should’ve told her they would cook for her. 

“Y-yeah absolutely.”

“She already ate.” Edward said, a tinge of attitude in his voice.

Rosalie stood there, anger was all of her face. She smashed the bowl she was holding in her hand.

“Pull back Edward, you’re throwing her to the wolves!” I thought.

“Damn Rose... remind me not to piss you off again.” I said.

She had to bite down a smile.

“Perfect...” She said.

“It’s just because... I know you guys don’t eat. I didn’t want to put you into any trouble.”

“Of course, that is very considerate of you.” Esme comforted.

“Just ignore Rosalie, I do.” Edward said.

“Yeah, let’s just keep pretending that this isn’t dangerous for all of us.”

“Look, I would never tell anybody about you guys... Besides, Fleur knows and you trust her.”

“It’s because I pick up a good energy from her... I know I can trust her with anything I tell her. She’s not a backstabber, she’s told me some of the stuff you’ve done. I’m sorry but, it made me sick the way you use to treat her. I hated seeing how upset she got telling the things you and your mother said to her”

My eyes widened before looking down at my legs... maybe me being here just reminded them of some of the things I told them. I wasn’t being much help to Bella right now. Jasper sensing my nerves rising, calmed them down. My uncomfortable mood slowly simmering down.

“Rosalie, stop... don’t worry Bella, she knows you wouldn’t say anything about us to anyone.” Carlisle said.

“Well, the problem not is, you two have gone public now so...”

“Emmett.” Esme interrupted.” 

“No, she should know. The entire family could get implicated if this ends badly.”

“Badly, as in... I would become the meal.”

All of the Cullens in the house except for Rosalie and Esme started to laugh. I heard a few thumps before I saw Alice and Dean enter the room.

“Hi, Bella... I’m Alice.” Alice jogged toward Bella, giving her a hug.

“Hi.”

“Gosh, you do smell good.”

“Alice what’re you.”

“Don’t worry... Bella and I are going to be great friends.”

Dean looked like he was struggling to say something. I could tell he was uncomfortable to be around Bella right now.

“It-it’s a p-pleasure to meet you.” He said.

“Don’t mind Dean, he and Jasper are our newest vegetarians.” 

“It’s okay Dean, you won’t hurt her.”

The expression on Edward’s face made me want to laugh.

“Okay well, I’m going to show her around the house.”

“Okay.” Bella mumbled.

“I’ll see you soon.” Alice said.

“Okay.” Bella said again.

“So cute!” Esme gushed.

“I know!” Alice said in agreement.

“I think that went well.” Carlisle added.

“Rose, clean this up... now.” Esme said.

I leaned back into the couch, sinking into it. Jasper put his arm around my shoulder. “What an interesting visit.” I thought to myself.

Another day came and went by, Bella and I were on our way to the diner. It had been so long since I had been down there. I was in the passengers seat of her truck. I thought since we were going to the same place, we should probably drive in the same vehicle... During out drive she started talking about how Edward had been watching her sleep for months.

“Are you serious Bella? That’s kinda creepy.”

“I’m sure you have Jasper in your room with you at night.”

“Yeah but, he always asks me before he goes in there. We plan stuff like that out... He should be coming later tonight actually.”

“Okay... you have a point there.”

When we arrived at the diner and got out of the truck Mike approached us...

“Hey, you and Cullen huh? I don’t like it... I mean he looked at you like you’re something to eat.”

Bella and I looked at each other and smirked... he had no idea how correct he was in that statement. We walked past him and entered the dinner, dad was already waiting for us.

“Hey I hope you two don’t mind I ordered food for you guys already. I got you Bells a Spinach Salad and I got you a burger Fleur.”

“Yeah that sounds good.” I said.

“Good picks dad. Even though, you should get a salad like me next time... cut back the steak.” Bella said.

“Hey, I’m as healthy as a horse.”

"Hey , Chief, the boys want to know... did you find anything by Queets river today?"  The waitress asked.

"Yeah, we found a bare human footprint... but it looks like whoever it is is headed east... the Kisap County Sheriff is gonna take over from here."

 "Okay, I hope whoever it is... they get them fast." The waitress then walked away, a group of men started talking within there group.

I turned around hearing something outside, Mike was doing something to a poor bush outside. I nudged Bella, trying to get her attention.

“Hey, someone’s flagging you outside.”

“It seems that Newton boys got a big smile for you.” Dad added.

Bella looked, and then turned back around, her face looked horrified.

“You can join them if you want.” I said smirking.

“Shut up you jerk... Mike is a good buddy though.” She said back.

Dad face flushed slightly... as if what he was going to say next was embarrassing.

“W-what about any other of the yahoo’s in town?”

“Dad... we aren’t going to talk about boys are we?” Bella said, her face starting to turn red too.”

“I guess not... with you at least.... How is everything going with you and Jasper, Fleur?”

I looked up confused, how did conversation about Bella’s relationships get turn into one about mine.

“It’s going well.”

“Good, I noticed you’ve been spending a lot more time with him lately. That car ride you took was a long one.”

“Oh yeah we drove out for a while... we looked at the stars... it was really nice. He told me I seemed stress and just decided to take me somewhere.” I said, I looked down at my hands while smiling.

Dad seeing this smiled too.

“I always liked that boy, you got yourself I good one.”

“I know I do.” I said finally looking up at him.

“I was only bringing up boys with you Bella because... I feel like I leave you alone too much.”

“I don’t mind being alone dad, I’m like you in that way.”

“Yeah, I guess so.”

Timeskip: Later that night.

I was in my room, thinking about what dad had said earlier... He found a bare human footprint in the woods. Could it of been the same footprint of the woman who’s body I seemed to be suck in during my dreams? Or could it of been someone else entirely? The wind from my open window got harsher for a second, I then heard a familiar soft thud on my floor. I turned my head, locking my eyes with his.

“What’s going on in that head of yours love?” Jasper asked

“Just thinking of something my dad said earlier...”

“What is it?”

“My dad said he found a bare human footprint down at Queets river today... He said it was heading east. Have you guys found anything yet?”

“No, we haven’t found anything, it’s starting to get frustrating. Have you had anymore dreams about those vampires?” 

“Nope... if it is them though, I have a feeling that print was just a trap to throw them off course.”

“I do too... hey, my family and I plan on playing baseball tomorrow, since Edward is inviting Bella... I thought you could come too.”

“Yes, I would love too, watching Emmett climb and crash into things is my favorite part of the game. That and all those tricks you do with the bat.”

“It’s a plan then, I’ll pick you up tomorrow.”

“Sounds good.” I pecked his lips before getting comfortable in my bed, I was still a human... I needed some sleep. I laid there, Jasper behind me holding close.

“Tomorrow is going to be a fun day.” I thought to myself, before drifting off to sleep.

[babybluebex]

washed in the blood [arvin russell x reader]

➽ pairing: arvin russell x fem!reader(y/n) ➽ word count: 2.8k ➽ summary: based on a request i got but deleted :( “if you’re still taking requests, can i request an arvin russell smut fic based on the scene where he gets picked up, but instead he’s picked up by the reader and her (soon to be) ex, she plans on breaking it off because he’s a sleeze, and arvin notices tension. one thing leads to another, and the two ditch the ex and have sex in the motel room” ➽ warnings: explicit language, ab*se mentions, de*th mentions ➽ a/n: full disclosure, i changed this to not have smut. lol. enjoy!

Hitchhikers were a normal thing for Ohio. In the rural parts, not too many people had cars, and buses didn’t run that far out, so people hitched rides wherever they could. Even if you were fortunate enough to have a car, there was a thrill about sticking your thumb out and seeing who you’d be riding with. My mother always tried to dissuade me from hitchhiking, but what she didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her, as far as I’m concerned. On the other hand, she never said anything about being on the other end of the deal. 

I loved picking up hitchhikers. Most times, they were yippies, trying to make their way to California. Even if you were just going as far as ten miles away from the pickup point, they were thankful. I got along with mostly everyone-- a superpower, my boyfriend called it-- and I could always find something to talk about. Where words failed, the radio helped. Music always got people talking, even if it was to talk about how much they hated the song. 

Meade, Ohio was a quiet place. I grew up there, so I guess that’s why I always talked so much: to fill the perpetual silence. As soon as I graduated from Meade Central High School, I gathered everything I owned (which wasn’t much), and headed out west towards Cincinnati. There wasn’t much there from what I’ve heard, but it had to be better than Meade. If there wasn’t anything for me in Cin City, I would go further west-- Indianapolis maybe, or perhaps further than that to Chicago. To get there, though, I had to get the fuck out of Ohio. 

The smoke from my cigarette danced out of my open window as I drove through the hills. My conversation with my mother was playing like a cracked vinyl in my head, her begging me to stay in Meade. I had asked what was here for me, and my mother had tightened her jaw. “Nothing, I suppose,” she had said. “With an attitude like that, there’s nothing for you anywhere.” With an attitude like mine, I argued back, the whole world was ripe for my taking. My mother had always been controlling. I couldn’t wear pants or smoke or even wear bright makeup, and seeing my friends do all of that and more was tortuous. Of course I loved my mother and knew that she was right, but I wanted to find that out for myself rather than being told that. I crested a hill, the radio crackling in and out as I lost the station, and I saw a man a few yards ahead of me. He held his body like it was a burden, his arm limp as he stuck his thumb out. As my car approached, he turned to look at me, and I slowed to a stop. A moment passed where his eyes locked with mine through the glass windshield, and he rushed to the passenger door. In he came, tossing his knapsack into my backseat, and he huffed out a tired sigh once the door was closed. 

“Where ya headed?” I asked. 

“Umm…” He began. His eyes fell to his lap, looking for an answer, and he finally said, “I dunno.” 

“Right,” I said. “I’m heading to Circleville, so if you got any place between here and there, just let me know.” 

The man nodded slowly. His cheeks were red, his forehead shiny with perspiration, and his tongue darted out to wet his dry lips. “Thanks,” he said. “I… I’m Arvin.” 

“Nice to meet you,” I said. “I’m Y/N.” I started the car back, continuing my journey to the last destination in my tour of Ohio. My boyfriend had found out about my flee, despite my attempts to try to slip away undetected, and he begged me to meet him in Circleville to at least say goodbye. He went to college in Columbus, hence why I chose Cincinnati instead. There was more in Columbus, but I wanted a place where nobody knew me to start over. “Fiddle with the radio if you want to. I’m not partial to any kind of music.” 

“Me neither,” Arvin said. There was a pause, then he reached forward and began to tune the radio. Channels faded in and out, Elvis and Beach Boys making varied appearances as my radio struggled to pick up a channel for more than a few seconds at a time, and finally it picked up a station. Church hymns. Sure. Arvin seemed satisfied with the selection, because he leaned back, and he tugged his blue baseball cap off. 

I could feel the stiffness radiating off of Arvin, and I rolled my neck as I tried to come up with something to say. I looked at my cigarette, the butt stained with the red lipstick that my mother had forbidden, and I held it out to him. “Want the rest?” I asked. “I’m feeling pretty finished, but I don’t wanna waste it, ya know?” 

“S’long as it ain’t an American Spirit,” Arvin mumbled and let out another huff, more of a laugh than before.

 “God, no!” I chuckled. “What kinda girl do you take me for, sir?” 

Arvin cracked the faintest smile, and he took the cigarette from my waiting hand. “Girls I went to high school with smoked shit like that,” he said and took a drag. “Just making sure I knew who I’m with.” 

“How long ago was that?” I asked. 

“Like…” Arvin began. “May.” 

“This May?” I asked, and Arvin nodded. “Neat. I just graduated too.” 

“Thank God, right?” Arvin mumbled, the cigarette now resting against his bottom lip. “Hated that place. I’d rather go to the fuckin’ war than go back to high school.” 

“Me too,” I said. “I got teased and pushed around all the time. Same for you?” 

Arvin shrugged. “I was fine,” he said. “My little sister, though… She got picked on. I got in trouble a lot for beating up her bullies, or getting beat up by them. I would do that a million more times, though, if it meant I could help her.” 

“How old is she?” I asked. “I only ask ‘cause I got a sister who just started high school.” 

Arvin shifted and tugged the cigarette out of his mouth. “She was sixteen,” he said. 

“Was?” I repeated. 

“She… Died,” Arvin said. “S’more complicated than that, but…” 

“Jesus Christ, Arv, I’m sorry,” I said quickly. “That… That really fucking sucks.”

“It does,” Arvin said. “She got killed.”

My jaw tightened as I tried to imagine the grief that this poor man had been through. My own heart hurt just from thinking of it. I would hurt anyone, except for anyone that hurt my sister. “Well,” I sighed. “Do you know who did it?” 

“Oh, yeah,” Arvin laughed. “I know.” 

“Did you go to the police?” I asked. 

“We don’t have police in Coal Creek, West Virginia,” Arvin told me. “Too small for it, and there’s hardly any need for them anyway.” 

I managed a weak laugh. “If I knew who it was that killed my little sister, they wouldn't be alive for much longer after that. I’d kill them myself.” 

Arvin nodded. He said nothing else. 

Eventually, the radio station came in clearer, signaling our entrance into Circleville. My boyfriend had specified where he wanted to meet me, and the gravel of the parking lot crunched under my car as I steered my way into the diner. “It’s been nice meeting you, Arvin,” I said. The brake squealed as I engaged it, and Arvin nodded before pulling his cap further down onto his head. 

“You too,” he said. “I’m gonna grab me something to eat real quick, then I’ll be on my way… Just didn’t want ya thinkin’ I was following you in there.” 

“I wouldn’t have minded if you were,” I shrugged. “Got any idea of where you’re going now?”

“Not yet,” Arvin said. “I’ll probably hitch a ride somewhere else. Maybe with someone who doesn’t listen to hymns in her free time.” 

“You put the station on!” I exclaimed with a giggle. “Don’t go blaming me!”

“You coulda changed it,” Arvin offered, stepping out of the car. He reached and grabbed his bag, and I rested my arms on the roof of my car. 

“You coulda kept looking for a different station,” I fired back. 

“You coulda kept your big mouth shut about music,” Arvin said. 

“I coulda left your ass on the side of the road,” I said. “But I didn’t.”

“But you didn’t.”

“But I didn’t.” 

Arvin gave me the first real smile I had seen from him, and he flicked the cigarette butt onto the ground. “Let’s get something to eat,” he said. “I could argue ‘bout this all day.” 

“You just might be able to,” I said. I grabbed my handbag from the floor of the car, and Arvin walked beside me into the diner. I spotted Harry immediately in the back corner, and I took a deep breath. The whole ride here, I knew that I was planning on ending things with him, but, now that I was here, I was doubting myself heavily. Could I survive in the world without a man there to fall back on? It seemed so impossible all of the sudden. I wanted to back away. Walk backwards and get back in the car and go back home. 

“Hey,” a gentle voice said from my side, and I turned to see Arvin still standing by me. “Whatever you’re gonna do, I can bet it’s better than anything I’ve ever done.”

“How do you know I’m gonna do anything?” I asked. “Maybe I’m just having lunch with my boyfriend.” 

“Right,” Arvin said slowly. “And that’s why your face went all white when you saw him.” He gave me a pointed look, then a quick wink, and he went to the counter to order. 

“Who was that?” Harry asked as I approached the table he was sat at. No hug or kiss or any greeting that a boyfriend would normally give; just an interrogation. 

“Hitchhiker I picked up,” I said. “We’re gonna head on to Cincinnati once we’re done here.” 

“Goddamn it, Y/N,” Harry sighed. “You’re still on this Cincinnati business?” 

“Why wouldn’t I be?” I asked. “It’s the only place for me.” 

“And what about me?” Harry asked. “What about here? We could have a life here, but you--” 

“We sure could have a life,” I told him. “But you have to start it, Harry. I’ve waited for you for years and I’m tired. I want my own life now.” 

“Were we supposed to get married when you were still in high school?” Harry asked. 

“Other girls got engaged,” I said. “Harry, I’m done. I… I don’t want whatever you want to give me. I want to be on my own, make my own name, ya know?” 

“Don’t tell me you’re one of those girls now,” Harry sighed, wiping his hand down his face. 

“I--” I started, then straightened up. “I don’t owe you an explanation for anything. I’m going to do what I want, and I am not sorry about it. You had your chance, but I’m done.” 

“Done?” Harry scoffed. “You’re not done. Not with me, not now.” 

“Yes, with you,” I said. “And, yes, now. I… I guess I’ll be seeing you around.” I got up from the table, trying to keep my cool, but Harry had other ideas. 

“No,” he said, and he grabbed my wrist tightly. “You’re not leaving me, you bitch.” 

“Watch me,” I told him, and I tried to pry my arm around him. “Let go of me.” 

“You’re gonna stay here with me,” Harry said. “You’ll never survive on your own.” 

“How do we know for sure if I don’t try?” I asked. 

“‘Cause you’re too dumb to anything for yourself,” Harry said. “You know it’s true. You’ll get eaten up in the real world. The world ain’t like Meade, it’s mean and it’ll kill you. You need to settle down with me, and I’ll do everything for you.” 

“You’re not gonna change my mind, Harry,” I said. “Get your stinkin’ hand off of me.”

Suddenly, there was a presence next to me, and I looked to see Arvin standing there. His face was as hard as stone, his jaw set firmly, and his brown eyes boring deadly holes into Harry. “I think,” he began with his deep gravel. “You oughta leave her alone.” 

“Who the hell are you?” Harry asked. “The hitchhiker?”

“I am,” Arvin said. “And I can be a lot worse. Leave her be, and I’ll leave you be.” 

“You’re a funny guy,” Harry chuckled. “C’mon, Y/N, let’s sit down and have some lunch.” 

Arvin was quiet as he pushed his jean jacket aside, and I felt my blood run cold at the sight. Tucked into the waistband of his denim pants was a wooden tool, one that was obviously the butt end of a handgun. Had he had that the whole time? I hadn’t noticed it when he was in the car next to me, but maybe he hadn’t wanted me to see it. “You need to let go of her,” Arvin said. “And let her leave. And you ain’t ever gonna talk to her again.” 

“Are you threatening me?” Harry asked. 

“Oh, it ain’t a threat,” Arvin chuckled lowly. “It’s a promise. I’ve done worse to men better than you.” 

“I bet,” Harry said. “You don’t have the gall to do it.”

“You wanna bet?” Arvin asked. “I’ve had a hard day. You’d make my tally a solid five.” 

“That’s hard to believe,” Harry scoffed. “Y/N--”

“No,” I said quickly. I had no reason to back Arvin on his ridiculous claim, but if it made Harry leave me alone… “Harry. He’s serious. You’re gonna wanna leave.” 

Harry looked from me to Arvin, then down to the gun. “Where did you find him?” Harry asked. 

“Why does it matter?” I asked. “Just go. Don’t call me, don’t worry yourself with me. Just leave me alone.” 

“A regular Bonnie and Clyde, huh?” Harry said softly. “I hope y’all find whatever you’re looking for in Cincinnati.” 

“We will,” Arvin said quickly, and he adjusted his jacket to cover the gun once more. “Have a good day now, ya hear?” 

I could hear my heartbeat in my ears as I moved myself back to the car, and I watched Arvin settle back where he was before the diner. My hand hovered by the ignition, my mind wanting me to put the keys in but my hand refusing to cooperate, and I finally swallowed. “Why you got a gun?” I asked. 

“You heard me,” Arvin said and sniffed. “Killed four people.”

“That’s real funny, Arv, but I’m being serious,” I said. 

“And why do you think I’m not?” Arvin asked. “I don’t care too much for lying.”

“Oh, but you’ll excuse killing?” I gasped. “Arvin, Jesus Roosevelt Christ! You haven’t really killed people, have you?” 

“You told me not an hour ago that you’d kill anyone who hurt your sister,” Arvin said, turning his gaze to me. “What makes you think that I wouldn’t do the same?”

“I don’t know!” I cried. “I… I don’t know. I just thought… Arvin, that was a joke.” 

“Not to me,” Arvin said. “He was a fucking bastard. He raped my sister and got her pregnant, and he didn’t want nothing to do with her. She trusted him, and he discarded her like trash, and she ended up hanging by her neck in our barn. The world is better off without that horse’s ass.” 

I chewed on my tongue. Was it better to know? Or was this knowledge a curse? I wanted to ask about the others he claimed to have killed; a morbid curiosity. “Get outta my car,” I whispered. Arvin laughed lightly, and I clamped my hands on the steering wheel. “I’m not joking, Arvin. Get out.” “

Why?” Arvin asked. “You worried I’m gonna kill you too?” 

“No,” I said. “But I make efforts to not associate with murderers. Get out of my car.” 

“I killed a sheriff too,” Arvin told me. “And two others, but all three of them were tryna kill me, so I think it was mighty justified. What do you think, darling?” 

Heat and ice battled inside my chest. I wanted to kick him out and leave him for the police to find, but I couldn’t do that. We had connected immediately, and there was no telling what else fate had in store for him. He was so obviously hurt. Maybe he needed somebody around. Maybe he wanted somebody around. He seemed to be trying awful hard to keep me around. I pushed, but he pulled. “You might’ve done it, but I can’t say I blame you,” I mumbled. “Still wanting to go to Cincinnati?” 

“Wherever you’re going, I am too.”

[ideks-on-mars]

Half-Brothers?

The Taichi-Naoyasu Situation

Taichi and Naoyasu are half-brothers and here's how lol

Taichi's mother and father had both met in their birth country of Germany. However, his grandparents on his mother's side hadn't approved of his father. The two had then decided to study a good amount of Japanese before saving up for plane tickets and running off to Japan. They changed their last names and had a completely fresh start. The two were madly in love, or at least that's what Taichi's mother thought. She had figured out she was pregnant, with who we know as Taichi, and she was ecstatic. She quickly told Taichi's father and his reaction was the exact opposite of what she expected. The man was furious and didn't want anything to do with the woman or baby. After hours of begging and yelling the man had left the German woman to fend for herself and her unborn baby. She picked up a few different jobs at small stores, extra shifts and she would make good friends that were more than happy to help her, two of those friends being the Shirabu's who also had a baby on the way. Her life in Japan was getting better. And on April 15, 1995, her baby Taichi, was born. She had changed her name after the "Love of her life" had left. Her last name was Kawanishi. And now, all she had was her, her friends, and her beloved baby.

Meanwhile, almost exactly 4 months before Taichi was born. A small, fragile, pale woman, had been another victim of the man. She had found out she was pregnant by him during January 1996. The woman was, just like the last, left soon after. The woman was young and hadn't even been in Japan for too long. She had came to Japan from her home country of Finland due to that fact that it had always been a dream of hers to move in with her grandmother, who moved to Japan when she was two. She was intelligent though, and knew languages like Finnish, Slovak, German, and Japanese. She could also keep up a normal conversation in English and Danish. She was confident in her ability to take care of a baby and she studied extra hard, wanting to be able to get a decent job for her and her baby.

After graduating from college, she was now about seven months pregnant. She lived with her grandma and she was working as a translator for people visiting Japan. She had, who we know as, Naoyasu Kuguri, not long after. However, the older he had gotten, his mother had taught him more Finnish, Slovak, and German than Japanese. He knew some Japanese, of course, they lived in Japan. However his mother thought that all he needed was her and the only person he should feel the absolute need to talk to was her.

TIME SKIP

Multiple years later and Taichi is now seventeen with Naoyasu being sixteen. STZ was having a practice match against Nohebi and they were having a small break between the first and second set.

"Kawanishi-Kun~...doesn't number twelve over there remind you of yourself~ hehe~"

Kawanishi turned to the place his upperclassmen, Tendō Satori, was pointing towards, curious as to what he was talking about.

Taichi scanned the other team until his eyes landed on number twelve. The boy had a lean, yet muscular build, his height similar to Semi's. He had a bored expression on his face and a water bottle in hand. His eyes were pointed at the end, very similar to Taichi's. The only difference was that number twelve's eyes rounded into the point. Taichi's were more of a obtuse angle that lead to the point. Their eyelids were both very pointy. His eyebrows were thicker than Taichi's and his pupils were a lot bigger and more circle shaped, compared to Taichi's oval shaped pupils. Taichi's eyes were silver gray, number twelve's eyes seemed to be green with a hint of grey. Taichi's hair was a darker ginger, thick, and messy. Yet number twelve's hair was...interesting. His hair was a blonde mixed with brunette, leaving him with a very light brown bedhead. However his eyebrows were darker.

"He does look...kind of like me..."

"Kind of", was a bit of an understatement, Taichi could go around telling his team that they were related and they'd most likely believe it, except for Kenjirō of course, who knew the whole situation with Taichi's family.

"You should talk to him! You two seem equally as uninterested."

Some of his teammates laughed at Yamagata's joke but Taichi, for once in his life, actually considered going up to the boy and talking to him.

As if God himself had granted him an opportunity, Nohebi's captain walked up to the team, his hand placed on the back of the stoic winged spiker.

"Hey, sorry if I'm interrupting anything, but would any of you mind helping Kuguri-Kun here find the restroom?"

The captain, who they knew was called Daishō, patted the boy's, now known as Kuguri, back twice. Kuguri didn't react though, he stood there beside his captain quietly, slouched and staring at the ground blankly, his hands stuffed into his volleyball jacket pockets. Before anyone could speak, Tendō, not surprisingly, did.

"Oh! Well our dear Kawanishi-Kun would love to escort Kuguri-Kun! Right Kiwi?"

Kawanishi looked at Tendō with an expression that said "are you serious?" but Taichi wasn't one to go against an upperclassmen's wishes, especially Tendō's. Taichi sighed.

"Yes, Tendō-San."

Daishō smiled a snake-like smile, however Taichi didn't think he could help it, and walked away leaving his teammate with the monsters known as Shiratorizawa. Taichi could tell he was uncomfortable so he quickly walked past him towards the exit.

"C'mon, Kuguri-Kun."

He said, his German accent slipping a little. He glanced behind him and saw that Kuguri was sauntering behind him. Taichi stopped, waiting for the slightly shorter male to catch up with him and began to walk at the other's pace.

Taichi got to the door first and held it open for the brunette. He glanced up at Taichi and nodded. However Taichi could've swore he saw the other's eyes widen for point two seconds before he looked back down and walked through the door way. Taichi, even though it was barely audible, heard Kuguri speak.

"Thank you, Kawanishi-San."

The thick, obviously European, accent was clear in his words. Taichi could tell that it was slightly German, but it just had to be another Northern European accent. Taichi quickly shook it off and nodded. They silently headed down the hall, the occasional Shiratorizawa student walking past them. Suddenly, and surprisingly, Kuguri spoke.

"So...where are you from?"

Taichi was taken aback, the other's accent was thicker now. Taichi seemed confused but figured the the other thought he was from somewhere else due to his accent.

"Oh, um, I'm from Japan. It's just that my mother is German and...I knew how to speak German before Japanese."

Kuguri nodded.

"Oh. I was just asking. I spoke Finnish, Slovak and German before I spoke Japanese. I'm still not as good as I should be at it."

Taichi understood. Japanese was no joke, and neither was Finnish, Slovak, and German.

"Well, if speaking in German makes it easier for you, then I don't mind."

(Bold + Red = Speaking in German)

Kuguri smiled happily. It wasn't the biggest smile, more of just the sides of his lips curling upward, but still, a smile.

"Thank you...Naoyasu Kuguri."

Taichi smiled back, a similar smile to the one Naoyasu had shown him before.

"Nice to meet you...I'm Taichi Kawanishi."

The two smiled, happy that they had someone that they could relate to.

"Anyways, I didn't see you on Nohebi last year, are you new?"

"Yeah, I'm a first year..."

TIME SKIP

It was now the end of the match and Nohebi was about to get on their long trip back to Tokyo.

(I looked it up and from Miyagi to Tokyo is 4-6 hours 👀)

The two teams thanked each other for the practice game, all waving as they piled into the bus. Naoyasu was the last one to get on. He turned around and waved at Taichi one more time. Taichi waved back and watched happily as his new friend had drove off. He was glad they had exchanged numbers.

"So you really did make friends with him?"

Taichi looked over at his teammates.

"Yeah. He was pretty chill."

They nodded.

"Did you catch his name?"

"Yeah. Naoyasu Kuguri."

TIME SKIP

The two boys ended up being good friends. They didn't get to hang out as much as they wanted but it was good enough for them due to the fact that they weren't very social people anyway. Though, when they found out that they both got to go to the same training camp, they were excited. In the training camp you actually got time to lay back and chat with people from other teams, giving them the chance to hangout with each other.

The thing was, at this training camp they allowed parents and/or siblings to come. The parents would come watch their children play, help with lunch and dinner, and help with other fun drills and activities, and if they had younger children they were allowed to bring them. That's how a lot of the parents and siblings made good friends with the others. Taichi's mom, Annike, had always come, due to the fact that, 1) she loves and wants to support her son, and 2) she was great friends with most of the moms of his teammates and other teams. She would always bring Taichi's little six-year-old half sister, Takara, who enjoyed playing with the other little ones. She was the result of of Taichi's old stepfather. He was a cool guy and him and his mom were on good terms. Taichi never really gave him a chance though. However, Taichi would never deny the fact that he adored his little sister.

Once they arrived, Taichi quickly scoped out his teammates and joined them whilst his mother conversated with the other parents.

The coaches informed everyone that they would take the first day to let everyone get settled in, eat, and conversate.

Earlier into the day, Taichi heard his name being called.

"Kawanishi-San. Hello."

Taichi turned around, already having an idea of who it was.

"Hi Kuguri-Kun, how've you been?"

"Alright. You?"

"Fine, thanks."

"Naoyasu! Don't run off like that."

(Bold + Blue = Speaking in Finnish)

"Sorry ma."

Taichi looked a little behind Naoyasu and saw a short, pale woman with blonde hair that fell beautifully over her shoulders, he could've swore she was made of glass. She had on light blue jeans and a grey shirt on. Her eyes were the same color as Naoyasu's.

"Who's this?"

Taichi had no clue what she was saying, considering she was speaking in Finnish. Suddenly Naoyasu moved to the side, so that he wasn't between the two and they could meet eyes and Taichi didn't only see one half of her.

"Ma, this is Taichi Kawanishi, a friend of mine. Kawanishi-San, this is my mother."

Taichi remembered that Naoyasu only had his mother and knew that she knew and taught him German, plus Naoyase was just speaking to her in German so he responded in German.

"It's nice to meet you Kuguri-San. I'm good friends with Naoyasu-Kun."

Taichi stuck his hand out. The woman grabbed it, firmly shaking his hand.

"Nice to meet you Taichi-Kun. You can call me Aino."

"Taichi!"

Taichi looked behind him to see that his mother had come up behind him. She walked up beside him, a smile on her face, Takara beside her. Taichi's mom had curly, long, ginger hair that was pulled into a ponytail. She had on jeans and a t-shirt just like Miss Aino. She turned over to Aino and now the womans' jaws dropped.

Taichi and Naoyasu looked confused while Takara didn't seem to care all the much, only hugging her big brother's leg. Taichi patted her head, still not taking his eyes off of the two women.

"Aino?"

"Annike?"

Now the boys were beyond confused. They knew each other. Both the women nodded to each other and began to walk away. Taichi tried to call out to his mother.

"Mom-"

"Watch your sister Taichi. I'll be back soon."

Naoyasu tried too.

"Mom where are you-"

"Stay with Taichi, help watch the girl."

"Hi!"

Taichi and Naoyasu both looked at each other, shrugged, and looked down at the little girl, who was now looking up at Naoyasu.

WITH THE WOMEN

The two were behind the building now, staring at each other.

"It's been a while."

"It has."

They both were quiet for a few seconds.

"Is that...his son?"

Aino nodded.

"Yeah...it is. Naoyasu is his. I'm sure Taichi is his, correct?"

"Yeah, he is."

The two women chuckled.

"They're half-brothers."

"Yeah they are. They deserve to know."

Annike nodded in agreement.

"Yeah, I can't lie to Taichi any longer."

The two talked more. Catching up with each other and talking about their respective sons. They were nervous to tell their sons, yet excited and happy that they at least had met and are good friends.

AFTER THEY HAD SAT THE TWO BOYS DOWN

Both Taichi and Naoyasu were now sat down on the curb of the parking lot near the building where the training camp was being held. The women were leaning against the Kawanishi's car, both smoking a cigarette. Takara was being watched by some of the Shiratorizawa moms.

Annike dropped the cigarette onto the asphalt and stepped on it, putting it out.

"We have to tell you something important."

The two boys nodded.

"I don't think you both realize how much this will affect you both. This will shock you both tremendously."

The two were hesitant, but nodded. The two women looked at each other and Aino gestured for the other to go ahead and tell the two.

"You two are half-brothers."

The two brothers paused completely. That was until Taichi slapped his thigh and stood up.

"I knew we looked alike!"

He didn't say it in German, causing some other people to look at the usually quiet boy out of curiosity. Taichi bowed towards them apologetically before returning to the situation at hand.

Naoyasu was in shock. Half-brothers? He was just being told now? He assumed that they had the same dad. He wasn't stupid. He put two and two together.

Naoyasu stood up beside Taichi. The two looked at each other not exactly knowing what to do. However, Taichi, who was already a big brother, now of two, had his instincts kick in. Whenever his little sister was confused and was completely lost on what to do, he comforted her, so that's what he did to his new, well new in his life, little brother.

Taichi wrapped his arms around Naoyasu tightly. Naoyasu seemed genuinely scared at first but calmed down quickly. He hesitantly wrapped his arms around Taichi, resting his head on Taichi's shoulder.

The two women smiled gently at their sons, both extremely pleased that the two seemed happy. Taichi pulled away and patted both Naoyasu's shoulders.

"Let's go introduce you to your new little sister too."

Naoyasu looked confused.

"But...I'm not related to her."

"You're part of the family now. No escaping."

Taichi and Naoyasu both laughed and began to make their way to the little girl. The moms watched before Annike started walking too. She noticed that Aino wasn't following her and turned around.

"You too, Aino. You're part of the family too."

Aino couldn't even fight the smile creeping onto her face and dropped her cigarette, stepping on it. Annike reached her hand out and Aino grabbed it.

They both rounded the corner and smiled widely when they saw Takara walking between her two big brothers, holding both theirs hands and talking about something with a big smile on her face.

[brywrites]

Flight Risk VI

Summary: An answer to the age old CM question, “who’s flying the plane?” And the story of a pilot and a profiler. Part VI: In which things are lost and found and borrowed.

(Series Masterlist) ( Previous  |  Next )

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The case is of a vengeful Cinderella is closed, but as they prepare to head to the airport, Kate isn’t feeling so well. Rossi offers to drive with her to a pharmacy to pick up some saltines and Dramamine, and the rest of the team heads to the airport to wait. Reid spots Y/N chatting outside the plane with Dobson, and he instinctively starts towards her. She must see him out of the corner of her eye because she turns to greet him, but before either of them can say anything a strong hand finds his shoulder, holding him back.

“Hold there, Pretty Boy. I wanna hear the details of your Prince Charming moment back there,” Morgan says.

Y/N raises her eyebrows and he can feel his face flush. “There’s um, not much to say,” he stammers.

“Spence, come on, you were totally prince-like,” JJ laughs. “Kneeling down on one knee with a glass slipper and everything?”

“A glass slipper?” Y/N asks. JJ describes, in detail, how he played the part of the knight in shining armor at the cemetery to get Claire Dunbar to leave with them. He’s embarrassed through the whole tale, but by the time JJ gets down on one knee to kiss Morgan’s hand as he did the unsub’s, he’s sure his face is scarlet. Y/N is laughing along the entire time at his fellow agents’ melodramatic reenactment.

“Anyways, it was all very romantic. He totally swept her of her feet. The poor girl fell for him in a heartbeat,” JJ says. For a moment, Reid tries to discern what Y/N is thinking. Her face is unreadable other than a bemused smile. Her body language tells him nothing. But he can’t help but wonder – hearing about his heroics in the field, would she be jealous? Hearing how he played Prince Charming for Claire and kissed her hand. Then he wonders if he wants her to be. Is he curious because there’s a part of him that wants her to want him? Is he secretly hoping that she’d feel slighted by any hint of romance towards someone else? And if he is hoping for that, what does that mean?

But Y/N just says, “I sure would have liked to see that.”

“Next time we’ll get it on camera,” Morgan teases, ruffling Reid’s hair. He swats his friend’s hand away.

“You know, I love a good fairytale,” Y/N says, turning to him.

“Well this one was more Grimm than Disney,” he admits, trying to push the memories of the men Claire killed out of his mind. The story is over now. No more dragons to slay. Kate and Rossi return seconds later and it’s time to go.

Y/N follows Captain Dobson up the steps of the jet, and he follows close behind her. Lost in his thoughts, he nearly loses his balance at the top of the stairs. Y/N immediately reaches a hand out to steady him. Her hand is soft around his. He holds tight, both to maintain his balance and to keep a connection to her. All his life he’s been uncoordinated, but he’s willing to fall over his own feet a million times if it means having the chance to finally hold her hand. With her help, he ascends to the top step, finally making it onto the jet. It strikes him, this sudden reversal of roles. Only a few hours ago he was offering his hand to a distressed damsel to lead her away, using his words to woo her. But now Y/N is the one coming to his rescue. She is steady. Confident. She doesn’t need anyone to save her. If she did, he’d be there in a heartbeat. But she’s saving him. Little by little. Maybe they’re saving each other. One thing is for sure – she sweeps him of his feet without even trying. Knocks him out with a single smile. Quite literally puts his head in the clouds. And that’s better than any fairytale.

----------------------------------------------

She’s turning the pages of Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close, so taken by the story that she jumps when he calls her name. She turns to see him standing there, offering an awkward half-wave. Y/N can’t help but smile at the sight of him. His cardigans and ties are becoming familiar. He always looks more like a librarian or a professor than a special agent. Not that she minds one bit. The clothes suit him well, though at this point she’s convinced he’d look good in just about anything.”

“Is it good?” he asks, nodding at the book.

“Extremely. The prose is incredible and the narration is really unique. It manages to make a story so painful sound so beautiful. You can borrow it when I’m done if you’d like. I’m sure you’d finish it in a single flight.”

“It’s quite likely,” he laughs.

“So I hear we’re off to New Mexico,” she says. The flight is long enough that she could easily lend him the book now, but she knows the trip there will be spent reviewing case files and preparing for the work to come.

“Yeah, there’s five women dead already.” Spencer sits beside her on the bench. “The unsub seems quite advanced. It’s not looking pretty.”

“We’ve got to find you at least one pretty thing to see on these cases,” she says. It doesn’t seem right for him to travel across the country and return with nothing but memories of police stations and a handful of nightmares. She still hates the idea of ferrying him and his team to and from monsters. To and from danger.

He raises his eyebrows. “Oh? Like that coffee shop you found for us last weekend?”

She laughs at his pointed accusation. When they made plans she had insisted on visiting a new pop-up that Yeeqin had shown her on Instagram. The drinks were dreamlike pieces of art with cotton candy fluff, impeccable latte art, ombre iced teas, and donuts carefully placed over the rims of mugs. The line to order had been long, and the shop was crowded with people taking photos in front of the murals and installations throughout the shop. When they finally got their drinks, they were both disappointed to find they were more watery than the sad coffee found in police stations and tiny airports. The coffee didn’t taste nearly as good as it looked, especially for the pretty penny it had cost.

“Okay, okay,” she giggles. “You have a point. I will refrain from taking food recommendations from social media influencers in the future. But I’m sure I can find a nice bookstore or a garden or something worth paying a quick visit to in Santa Fe.” She pulls out her phone for a quick search. “Oh, like this bookstore! It’s called Collected Works and it’s lovely.” Suddenly she can smell coffee and the sharp spice of aftershave. Spencer is leaning over to look at her screen. She turns her head towards him and he shifts his gaze from the phone to her and she realizes how incredibly close he is. There’s only inches between them and when his hazel eyes find hers any words she had die on her lips. Lovely, is all she can think.

After mere seconds that seem to slip into eternity, she quickly breaks eye contact and looks down at her hands, her heart thudding loudly in her ears. “Um, but, uh, maybe there’s somewhere else…” she says.

“Oh my god, Reid, you are not going to believe what I saw this morning!” A cheerful voice calls out from across the hanger and Spencer practically leaps up from the bench. The voice is familiar somehow. A brightly-dressed woman is heading towards them surprisingly fast considering the height of her stilettos. Her shockingly orange dress matches the bright hue of her lipstick and the flowers in her hair. When she reaches them, her eyes widen, and a neon grin spreads across her face as she regards Y/N. “Oh! You have to be Y/N! You look just like Morgan described!”

Y/N’s eyes flicker to Spencer who gestures towards the newcomer. “Y/N, this is Penelope Garcia. Our technical analyst.”

Garcia holds out a well-manicured hand. “Technical analyst, internet goddess, and oracle of all knowledge. But tomato, tomahto.” Y/N stands to shake her hand. “JJ was right, you’re totally cute.”

Out of the corner of her eye she sees Spencer turn tomato red. She chooses not to question it and instead asks, “Why haven’t I met you before?”

“Well, usually when these crimefighters are flying all over to world to do their crimefighting thing, I stay hunkered down in my Quantico batcave ready to scour the interwebs for their every demand. But our creep of the week is particularly creepy – he’s hacking into his victims computers to stalk them and erasing almost any trace he was there. So I’m coming along for the ride to try and pull any data I can from their devices.” She grimaces. “Believe me I would much rather be staying put and calling them from my office.”

That explains why her voice is so familiar, she’s heard it in the background a million times as the team prepares for a case in the cabin.

“Well Captain Dobson and I will do our best to make the trip a little more comfortable. We restocked the galley and deep cleaned this weekend, so Geff should be in perfect form.”

“Oh my gosh I still love that our jet has a name. Geff is so cute. I’m never calling it the jet again.”

Y/N smiles. “Right? I feel like planes have a personality all their own. They deserve a name, too!”

“I feel the same way! I name all the things in my life, but none quite compares to Esther. She’s an orange 1975 Cadillac Eldorado and the one true love of my life.”

“An Eldorado? She must be gorgeous.”

“She absolutely is, and she drives like a dream. You should totally come take her for a spin sometime! If you can handle Geff you can totally handle Esther.”

“Hey!” Spencer protests. “You wouldn’t let me drive your car!”

Garcia rolls her eyes in mock annoyance. “See, calling her a car is exactly why I don’t let you drive her! Besides, you drove us to Comic-Con and your maneuverability did not exactly inspire confidence.”

“Well if you ever need a co-pilot for a convention, let me know,” Y/N offers.

“You’re into the con crowd?” Garcia asks.

“Please, I’m a total geek,” she laughs. “If it’s got a flying craft of any kind I’m in. Firefly, LOST, Doctor Who, Star Wars – you name it.”

“I totally love you,” Garcia declares, linking her arm through Y/N’s. “I love her!” she tells Spencer.

“Well I hope you have a little love left for me, Baby Girl,” Morgan teases, walking up behind them.

“Always, sugar,” Garcia throws back. She let’s go of Y/N’s arm but says, “We have to talk later.”

“Of course,” Y/N assures her, and she hurries over to catch up with Morgan.

“I didn’t realize you liked all those things,” Spencer says.

“Of course,” she laughs. “I guess it just never came up in conversation. We were too busy with books and stories. But I’m guessing you’re also a fan?”

He nods. “Although I’ve never seen LOST. Is it good?”

“Is it good?” she asks, incredulous. “It’s incredible. It revolutionized television. And it’s right up your alley. Mystery, psychology, recurrent numbers . When this case is over we are absolutely watching it together.” She only realizes after she says it that she’s practically inviting him over to her place. Or inviting herself over to his. Is that too much? They’ve been spending more and more time together, and she has yet to stop enjoying his company. If she’s being honest, she’s always looking for excuses to see him again.

“I would love to,” he says immediately. Relief washes over her. So it is okay. It’s okay that she wants more of these moments with him, that she’s trying to commit of these little conversations to memory for fear they’ll slip away and she’ll forget the butterflies she feels when he looks at her. And when Arthur calls her away to ready Geff for takeoff, the smell of coffee and aftershave lingers in her in mind long after she walks away from him.

----------------------------------------------

Three days later, the case is solved. The unsub is in custody. The victim is in the hospital with their family, where she will hopefully make a full recovery with time and with therapy. The Santa Fe sun is sweltering though. The team sits inside a small room at the little airport. The air conditioner is on full blast and everyone is sipping on water to stay cool. All of them are exhausted, and Reid wants nothing more than to take a long nap on the plane. Even Garcia is quiet. It’s a relief when Captain Dobson appears to inform them that the jet is ready for takeoff. They board Geff and settle down into chairs and couches, ready for well-deserved rest.

As soon as he does so, Reid realizes he’s left his book in the air-conditioned room. He quickly hurries back down the stairs and inside, grabbing the paperback that sits on the table where he left it. As he walks back out, he spots Y/N, standing at a locker in the hangar. She waves at him a with a smile.

“How was the case?” she asks.

“It ended as well as it could have,” he says. “But it was long. I think we’re all pretty tired.”

“I’m sure this heat isn’t helping. It’s worn me out. I’ve been putting off getting in uniform as long as I could.” She wears black pants and a short-sleeved white button-down, but the rest of her uniform is still in the locker. “So the missing woman is okay?”

Reid explains that she is, but he’s hardly aware of the words he’s saying. His focus is on her fingers as she buttons the top of her collar and ties her black tie with a careful and practiced knot. It’s looks far nicer than any of his slapdash crooked knots. She slips her blazer over her shoulders and adjusts the cuffs. He’s seen her in these clothes so many times before but he’s never realized before how good she looks in uniform. Or at least, he’s never let himself think it. It fits her well, tailored perfectly to her body. Reid is absolutely entranced as she buttons the front of her blazer, the little gold pair of wings shining above her pocket. He can’t explain why he suddenly finds this incredibly attractive, but when she puts her cap on and turns to smile at him, he completely loses track of any thoughts in his head.

It’s only when she closes the locker and says, “Let’s get out of here,” that he regains his ability to form coherent sentences.

“Wait,” he says. She does. Her cap is ever so slightly off-kilter. He reaches out to straighten it for her. As he does so, it catches a strand of her hair, and he brushes it out of the way. The gesture feels so intimate, and she stares at him the entire time. “There,” he says. “Perfect.”

“Thanks, Doctor.” The smile she gives him is different from the one she wore seconds ago. It’s softer somehow, and if he were to melt right now it wouldn’t be the result of the Santa Fe sun. They climb back into the plane. Y/N disappears into the cockpit. He puts his book back into his bag and then walks to the jet galley to grab another cup of water. Garcia joins him. As she pours herself a cup of coffee she says, “I had no idea you liked a girl in uniform.”

Reid nearly chokes on his water. “I – wait – what?”

“Oh come on, I saw you staring at Y/N.  The way you were looking at her? Ooh you are in deep, loverboy.”

“It’s – it’s not like that,” he sputters. “Not at all. We’re just – she – she’s my friend. That’s it.” Garcia quirks an unconvinced eyebrow. Reid sighs. “Look, even if I liked her, it would never work out. She’s…” There aren’t enough words to follow that adequately describe her. “Her. And I’m me. And besides, I’m pretty sure there are rules. Even if I felt that way…” He couldn’t. He can’t.

Garcia’s mischievous grin fades. “Reid, do you really think that-”

“Please, Garcia.”

She bites her lip and grabs her coffee. “Hey,” she says quietly. “No one else was paying attention. They didn’t see. And I’m not going to say anything.” She takes a step past him. “I just wish–” But she doesn’t finish the sentence. Evidently deciding against voicing her wish, Garcia returns to her seat. Reid prepares to do the same, only to notice the book sitting beside the coffee maker. Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close. With a little note that says, you can give it back when I see you for LOST.

In spite of himself, in spite of all the things he can’t and shouldn’t do, he smiles. He can have this. Sharing words and stories with her, and wondering which ones resonated with her when she read them. He picks up the book and sits back down just as Dobson’s voice comes through the speaker  to ask them to ask them to fasten their seatbelts and secure all loose items. Reid opens the book. That nap can wait until he gets home.

[castiel-left-his-mark-on-me]

The In-Between

I have become enamored with the time in between-- after they drove off into the sunset in 15x19, but before they awoke in the bunker at the start of 15x20; because there were some days there, and in those days, something changed in Dean. So it got me thinking ... what if ...

“Finally free.”

Dean had said the words— and he had meant them, but they didn’t bring the joy he thought they would. They didn’t leave him feeling as free as he wanted to be; because for the last ten years, he never dreamed of a freedom without Castiel.

It was supposed to be him, Sammy and Cas in the end.

They were Team Free-Will.

The three of them.

But now, it’s just him and Sam and a whole world that looks all too much the same for all they’ve lost... for what’s been sacrificed to save it.

Dean presses the gas pedal, and Baby roars down the road, eating up the miles like the beautiful monster she is. He looks over, and Sam is smiling, but there’s an emptiness to it—and Dean knows that his baby brother is hurting too. He still hasn’t heard from Eileen, so he still doesn’t know if Jack brought her back with everyone else; or … if he just took her to Heaven because, she technically should have been there all along.

And it seems like some kind of sick joke. Some punchline Chuck had built into the universe, and Dean and Sam were always destined to be the ones getting punched.

They were free, yes; but they aren’t happy.

The Winchesters saved the world but they lost so much more.

 They stop for gas somewhere outside of Sante Fe, where the fields stretch out forever and Dean thinks that if he just tracks the horizon long enough with his eyes, he can maybe fall right off the edge of the earth.

The pump clicks, and he caps Baby back up, giving her a pat on the trunk—knowing that both her and Sam would suffer if he was gone, so he blinks goodbye to the sun’s bed and climbs back behind the wheel, ready to continue on to nowhere, or somewhere. Right now, they’re just driving because they can and not because they have something to kill or someone to save, and that’s perhaps the nicest part about their new life so far.

“Holy crap” Sam says, looking wide eyed out the windshield.

“What?” Dean asks, following his brother’s gaze through the glass and out to the gravel driveway of the station.

And there, all shaggy and panting—is Miracle.

“No way!” Dean gasps, immediately jumping out of the car again to crouch and side step towards the mangy dog as quick as he can. “Hey—hey, boy! Is that really you?” He says, laughing and smiling, and the dog wags his tail a little, sitting still as Dean kneels down in front of him. “I thought we lost you, buddy” Dean says, looking into those brown eyes as they look into his. “I thought we lost you like we lost—” he starts to choke up, “like … we lost …” he leans over and pats Miracle on the head, “like I lost—” he bends down and hugs the dog close, crying into his fur; and Miracle whines, scoots in closer, nestles his chin onto Dean’s shoulder—and let’s the man hold him as he completely breaks.

“Dean …” Sam says softly, touching Dean’s arm as he squats beside his older brother and the dog. “C’mon … I’ll drive.”

Deans nods, wiping at his eyes before he stands back up, picking up Miracle with him and carrying him to the car. “We’re going home, buddy” he whispers, kissing the top of the dog’s head, breathing him in, breathing in the life of him, clutching his fur and losing himself in the solidity of him.

The dog is here, he is present.

He’s come back to Dean.

Some things can come back.

 Miracle settles quickly, and Dean settles into having something to take care of, because Sam is too grown and too stubborn to let Dean take care of him anymore; and lord know—Dean won’t take care of himself, so the dog will have to do.

Plus, he’s cute … and he follows Dean everywhere, and when he’s confused, he tilts his head to the side … just like —

Dean cries in the shower, knowing it’s the only place where he won’t be heard.

He cries with the memories, wishing that he could make them stop—stop the silence of them.

The loud memories— the memories where Billie is still banging on the door in his mind, the memories where he’s still begging Castiel not to go, not to do this, and even the memories of the Empty ripping through that wall, he’d take every one of those as trade over the gut-wrenching silence that followed.

The loneliness that followed.

The dog that follows him around like a four-legged cork in the powder keg that he’s become.

Dean cries as the shower’s hot water runs out; but when he turns it off—he knows he’s still not out of tears. He will just have to turn those off too, because he can be heard now.

The sun passes overheard without him knowing, and it’s not until Sam says he’s going to bed that Dean realizes how late it’s gotten. He’s just been sitting here, cleaning his weapons over and over again, trying to wash away even the smallest molecule of blood, because it was something to do. Something he could do without thinking; because thinking is more dangerous than any gun in his hand.

Miracle follows him into his room and curls up onto the pile of old blankets that Dean put down for him.

Dean shuts the door, locks it, and then looks around—noting the mess, noting the disarray. He never used to let his room get like this, but he can’t bare to move anything now, because it all is as it was when Cas was alive.

He might’ve touched something in here.

He might have left a small trace of himself on a book, or on one of Dean’s shirts, and if Dean can just hold in it in the right way, maybe, just maybe—he’ll unlock a memory, something he’s forgotten that won’t make the angel feel so far off, so permanently gone.

But—he knows that’s not how these things work. He’s lost enough people in his life to understand … that’s not how any of this works; yet, the books stay half open on the table. The clothes stay piled on the chair.

And Dean stays, buried alive in the middle of his mess of hope and discarded despair.

 He sits down at his desk to finish the paperwork he got from the auto shop in town. They were looking for a part-time mechanic, and Dean was inside the manager’s office and shaking the man’s hand before he even knew what he was doing.

He just needed something, anything that didn’t remind him of the hell he’s been living in all his life, and a normal 9-5 job seemed just crazy enough to work.

Dean’s eyes scan down the page—social security number, birthday, last employer … and he doesn’t know what to write. He doesn’t know if he can even put down the truth anymore. The world might still think Dean Winchester is dead, or a mass-murder, or a psycho or whatever.

Can he even be himself anymore?

Was he ever himself to begin with?

“Just be honest, Dean.”

Dean lifts his head slow but turns quick, looking up at Castiel as he smiles down at him. “Cas?”

The angel’s smile brightens. “More or less.”

Dean’s heart stops. “Wh-what does that mean?” He stands up from his chair cautiously, and he begins to notice how the light from the lamp in the corner of the room is shining through Castiel’s skin, as if he’s not fully whole … as if he’s not fully here. “Am … am I dreaming?” Dean asks, breathless, already starting to cry, because it doesn’t even matter what the answer is, he’s just so happy to see his friend again.

“That is how you’ll remember this, yes. However, Jack has assured me that you’ll know this was real.” Castiel looks down at Miracle, sleeping by his feet. “I see you’ve adopted a dog. That’s good. I always felt this place was one species short.”

Dean’s breaks into a teary laugh, reaching out to hug Castiel—and to his surprise, he can. He holds him. He holds him tighter than he’s ever held anyone, and shuts his eyes tight, wanting to put all of this away in his mind, every inch of feeling, every breath, every smell, every single second that passes so that when he wakes up and Castiel is gone again, he’ll remember.

He needs to remember.

Castiel’s arms come up to hug Dean back, and they stay there for as long as Dean stays—and it feels like hours before they finally pull apart again.

“How are you here?” Dean asks, shaky and quiet, once he can no longer simply stare at his friend in silence anymore.

“Jack” Castiel says, and Dean raises his eyebrows—gesturing for Cas to elaborate. The angel smiles, and he looks over Dean’s face the way he always used to, only, now … Dean knows exactly what that look means. “Jack saved me from the Empty and he brought me to heaven; however, my vessel … it was lost when the Empty took me. So, Jack fashioned this body; but since it was never of the earth, it cannot stand upon it and be known.”

Dean furrows his brow, opening his mouth to say something—closing it again once he realizes...he has no clue what he could say to that.

Castiel’s smile softens. “I wanted to come back to you, Dean … but I wanted to come back as myself. The me that you’ve always known, because you—you knowing me, that’s the only way I discovered who I truly was.”

“So … why didn’t you? Why didn’t you come back?”

“Like I said before, Dean … my vessel was destroyed, and Jack couldn’t recreate it exactly, not without disrupting the forces of nature. This was the best he could do, therefore … this dream is the best I can do at reaching out to you again. I am here, although—not really. I am solid, although, not really. I am as present as you wish me to be, and the very fact that we can touch …” Castiel reaches out and touches Dean’s hand, closing his eyes a moment as he loses himself in the feel of it, “means that you have been wishing for this almost as much as I have.”

Dean laughs in spite of the new wave of tears that has washed over him. “Almost?”

Castiel’s face sterns. “I’m in love with you, Dean. Obviously, my feelings are stronger.”

“Cas …” Dean scoffs, stepping closer to hold the angel’s hand fully, “if you can live for thousands of years—”

“Millions” Cas corrects.

Dean rolls his eyes. “Whatever. If you can live for millions of years, die a dozen times, become a God, become human, become—whatever the hell else you’ve morphed into, if you can still do all that, see all that … know as much as you know, but still not know how I feel about you standing in front of me right here, right now, then—I hate it break it to you, buddy … but you don’t know half as much as you think you do.”

“Dean, what are you—”

Dean shuts him up the only way he knows how … or more, the only way he wants to.

Miracle’s head perks up as the two beings kiss above him.

And they kiss, and they kiss—and they hold each other until the sun laps the world again and begins to breach the other ends of those fields; but Dean no longer wants to fall off their edge. He just wants to stay in his room, stuck between his two miracles, holding onto this happiness, holding on to this life.

“I want you to be happy, Dean” Castiel whispers, face buried into the collar of Dean’s shirt.

“Then stay” Dean says back, breathing in the smell of the angel’s hair – and it smells like clouds. He knows that’s the smell, even though he’s never been high enough to experience it.

“Dean …” Castiel pulls away again. “I need to go soon. I need to go back to Heaven—I need to go back to Jack and the other angels; and I need you to live your life. Start that job, start a family of your own, and be happy … your happiness is what I died for.”

“No” Dean is shaking his head hard, gripping onto the angel’s side and digging in his nails. “No, you couldn’t have died for that … because the second you were gone,my happiness was gone too. Don’t you get it, man? I’m no good without you.”

“You’re everything good, Dean. When will you learn that?”

“Cas, stop —  I’m saying that I don’t want to do this without you!”

“Dean” Castiel whispers, kissing Dean’s red, wet eyes, “you will never be without me. That’s what my being here is supposed to prove to you. As long as you exist … wherever you exist, I will be right there with you.”

Dean nods against Castiel’s cheek, pulling him closer, holding on for dear life, because it is dear … he sees that now. He knows it to be true. “You promise?”

“Of course, Dean.”

“But ... when will I be able to see you again?”

Castiel kisses his temple, his lips, blessing every freckle, praying to every tear that falls from Dean’s eyes. “When your time on earth is done.”

“That long?”

Blue eyes hold him steady, hold him to the earth, ground Dean in a way that’s never failed him … not since Castiel first pulled him from Hell. “It won’t be long enough. The world deserves your gifts, Dean Winchester; and I will be ready and waiting—as long as it takes. Just promise me you’ll be happy, you’ll live and love the world you’ve saved. The world that I save for you. And when you do finally make it up to heaven, know that I’ll be there waiting for you and loving you still.”

Dean’s eyes open. The room is quiet—the faint scent of clouds and rain, and promise still hang in the air.

Miracle hops onto the bed to greet him, and Dean welcomes him with open arms.

And when Sam says he’s been thinking about Cas—about Jack, Dean knows that the only thing he can say is what Castiel told him as they held one another the night before; whether it had been a dream, or something more, it was all still real, and it all settled Dean’s heart to a steady pace—one that it would beat to until its very last.

“If we don’t keep living, then all that sacrifice is gonna be for nothing.”

And when he sits beside Bobby in Heaven and hears him say Castiel’s name—Dean knows that the angel will kick his ass for coming by so soon, but he quickly smiles to himself, because... he told the guy before:

He didn’t want to do this without him.

[goddesswritings]

home with you - Stiles Stilinksi | everything i wanted

Title: home with you – Part One

Pairing: Stiles x Reader

Summary: Lydia Martin has a cousin. She’s Y/n. She moved in with Lydia and her mother two years ago after tragedy struck in her life. She met Stiles and Scott, and the two boys basically saved her. She developed a crush on Stiles through this, despite him having a crush on her beautiful cousin. People start going missing in Beacon Hills, and Y/n is forced to face her feelings and her ability to save the people she loves.

Word Count: 6.8k

Notes: Finding a title that fit this story was a bit of a task, but I think ‘home with you’ by FKA twigs is pretty fitting in a way for the feelings I have for this story.

This story is based on season 6A of Teen Wolf. It took me three years to finally finish Teen Wolf and season 6A was definitely a favorite of mine. The character development of everyone was just wow. So here we have a Stiles and Reader fic, because this idea hit me. Enjoy. More Stiles fics to come!

Masterlist

********

“Lydia, don’t say that.” You said to your cousin as she picked at her nails.

“What, I thought Stiles would have moved on by now. It’s been what, 4 years?” She popped her gum as she lounged back on her bed. “Aiden and I have been together for a while now, he does know I’m not breaking up with him, right?”

“I’m sure he does, Lyds. Just don’t antagonize him. He can’t help who he likes.” You would much rather not be talking about Stiles’ crush on your cousin with her, but she brought it up when Aiden mentioned that he thought Stiles was still into her.

You sighed and laid back on the bed, staring at the ceiling. This whole thing was not fun to talk about. You hated the way she treated Stiles, yet he still loved her. Two years ago, you moved in with Lydia and her mom after your parents were killed in a freak accident. You and Lydia had always gotten along, but she was definitely not the nicest person. But she’s been getting better.

“Oh I know, why don’t I set him up with someone? That will help him move on, right?” She raised her eyebrows as she grabbed her phone from the table. She started browsing it.

Your heart perked up, hoping she would realize you were the perfect person to set him up with. But she ignored you.

“Stella is a good choice. Wait no, she’s into James. Oh maybe Ellie, oh she’s perfect! Her hair is identical to mine.”

“Except for the fact that Ellie plays for the other team.” You mumbled.

“Wait, she does? I never knew that.”

“Yeah, at that party at Derek’s last year, she was all over that chick from Econ. Hailey I think.”

Lydia sighed and put her phone down. “Well then I don’t know what to do. He needs to move on, like now. I can’t have him stuck on me like this. We’re seniors and I don’t want him following Aiden and I around in school.”

Rolling your eyes, you moved from her bed. “I will talk to him, Lydia. You don’t have to worry.”

Her eyes lit up, “Perfect Y/n! Now I’m meeting Aiden for a late-night talk. Can you cover for me, with my mom?”

“Of course.” You left her room and headed down the hall to yours. It was nice that Natalie Martin took you in, but sometimes Lydia took advantage of you.

A message came through your phone. It was Scott.

Stiles and I have a kid at the station. He’s terrified and we have no clue who his parents are, we need you and Lydia.

Of course she was already gone.

I can help, but Lydia just left with Aiden. I’m the best you got.

Scott and Stiles became good friends with you when you moved to Beacon Hills. Almost immediately you fell for the quirky boy who had way too much energy. He was funny and sweet to you. When you moved, you’d fallen into a depression but somehow him and Scott got you out of it. Especially since they vowed to find out what happened to your parents.

With the help of Sheriff Stilinski, you did find out what happened to your parents. Not that you wanted to remember it right now.

Stiles will be there in 5.

Okay!

You rushed around your room, pulling off the sweatpants you had been wearing and pulling on some jeans. You got one leg in and lost your balance and fell to the ground. Chuckling, you pulled the pants on and searched for shoes to wear. Finally you had finished dressing when you saw Roscoe pull into the driveway. Shoving your phone into your pocket, you were off. Natalie was nowhere to be found, so you didn’t have to convince her to let you go.

Stiles smiled when you hopped into the jeep. “Well hello, little Martin.” He stated with his signature smile.

“I’m the same age as Lydia and you know this.” You quipped as you clicked the seatbelt in.

“Of course, I know this. I’m just joking with you. I only say it because you’re shorter than me and Scott.” He patted your thigh. “We love you regardless.”

Shaking your head, Stiles backed out of the driveway and headed towards the station.

“Damn, I wish I had a growth spurt.” You mumble making Stiles laugh.

“No Y/n, you’re perfect the way you are. Trust me. You don’t need to be taller or anything like that.”

The words warmed your heart. This is why you had a massive crush on him. He was the sweetest man alive.

“Well that was as sweet as pie, Stiles. Now tell me what to expect with this kid?”

Stiles was now in detective mode. You loved how passionate he was about all of this. He had amazing skills that made him valuable to Scott’s pack, despite being human. You on the other hand, felt very useless to the pack. Your cousin was a Banshee, Scott was a werewolf, Malia was a Coyote, and well Stiles was gifted with his detective skills as well as being smart as hell. You were just a human with no special skills to help them. You always did your best when these things happened, but you just weren’t all that useful to them.

“Liam and Hayden found this kid in a car alone. He was mumbling about needing to find his parents, but my dad has no record of them or the kid. We are all simply confused. He was also mumbling about these men who came out of nowhere on horses and stole his parents.” Stiles explained as he stopped at a red light.

“Interesting. What does your dad think?” You asked when you watched the light turn green.

“He thinks he just ran away from home and found an abandoned car to hot wire.” Stiles was not happy with that answer.

“How old is the kid?”

“12 apparently.”

“Okay, what twelve-year-old can hotwire a car? Who’s the car belong to?” Everything was not adding up.

“The car wasn’t registered to anyone. It had no plates. But the windshield was smashed off. The kid said the men on horses shot the car.”

“That doesn’t sound like a runaway kid to me.”

“Same. Scott is not sure what he thinks.”

You put your hand on Stiles’. “What do you think happened?”

He sighed. “I think it was supernatural of course. I’m not sure what, but I feel it in my bones that he didn’t just run away from home. They don’t even have record of this kid.”

“Well then we will find out what it is, won’t we?”

“You want to help?”

“Of course I do, Stiles. You’re my best friend and I believe you when you have a feeling about these things.” Also your feelings for him, made you believe him even more.

The two of you pulled into the station and he led you from the car. Sheriff Stilinski was in his office with Scott and a kid who looked scared and confused.

“I just want to find my parents.” He cried as Sheriff Stilinski looked on in helplessness.

“How do we find his parents if he’s not even in the database?” He asked Scott in a whisper.

Scott looked pensive before a thought hit him. “Well I could use my claws?”

You shook your head. “Scott no, that’s a horrible idea. That will hurt him!”

The kid spoke up. “I will do anything. I just want to find my parents.” You all exchanged looks, unsure of how to precede. Did Scott really want to use his claws on this kid to get answers?

“It’s going to hurt. Are you sure?” He asked him.

“I am. I need to know where my parents are.” He whined, tears clouding his eyes.

“Okay, we have to do this.” Scott looked to Sheriff Stilinski, Stiles, and I.

Stiles’ dad sighed and shut the door, locking it. Then he lowered all the curtains to his office. You stepped back, knowing it would hurt him. Stiles stepped up beside you and took your hand in his. You turned and buried your head into his chest as Scott buried his claws into the neck of this kid. He screamed in agony as Scott delved into his memories. Stiles wrapped his arms around you, blocking out some of the sound.

It all stopped, and Scott fell away from the boy. Stiles loosened his grip and you turned to see a highly confused Scott. The kid was passed out now.

“What did you see?” Stiles asked.

“Nothing. There are no memories of his parents at all. Just him. His name is Alex.” He mumbled, walking away from him.

“How is there no memories of his parents?” Sheriff Stilinski was so confused.

“That’s what I want to know.” You were all left in a state of confusion. Sheriff talked about how he would be keeping Alex at the station until they could locate his parents. Stiles, Scott, and you exited the station.

“We should go look at his house. You did see his house, right?” Stiles said as you three stopped by the jeep.

“I did. I know where it’s at.” Scott stated.

“Then why don’t we go check it out?” He suggested with hope in his eyes.

“Tomorrow we will go. It’s getting late and we have school in the morning.” Scott told him.

“Okay, that’s fine. Let me know if you remember anything else?”

Scott smiled and put on his motorcycle helmet. “Will do. Good luck!” He told him before riding off.

You were confused. “Good luck with what?” You asked as Stiles led you to the car. You hopped in.

“Oh it’s nothing. Can we, uh, go somewhere to talk?” He was suddenly nervous.

“Sure. I’m positive Lydia isn’t home yet and well I didn’t see her mom, so she’s also probably on a date.”

“Good, let’s go.” He started up the jeep and drove off without another word. He was silent as you both drove along with quiet streets of Beacon Hills. Your mind went to what Lydia asked you to do, and your chest tightened with nerves.

Stiles parked the jeep on the edge of the Beacon Hills Preserve. He shut the car off.

“So I actually needed to talk to you about something.” You said knowing you had to do it now or never.

“Sure, go ahead. I have something to say too.” He said with his cute little smile.

You smiled back but felt like bolting from the jeep. You couldn’t believe Lydia was making you do this. “So I was talking to Lydia and she mentioned that she still thinks you have a crush on her. Do you?”

“I don’t know, maybe.” He answered while watching you closely.

“Okay, she said her, and Aiden were talking, and she didn’t like that you still crushed on her. She was rambling on about how she didn’t want you to spend Senior year following her around, especially now that you and Malia are over.”

“That’s good because I have a crush on someone else.”

You barely registered what he said as you continued on. “And I know it sounds mean when she says this. I even told her she couldn’t say that because you are so sweet and don’t deserve that kind of treatment.”

“Of course.”

“I’m so sorry Stiles, I didn’t want to be the one to say it. But she wants to set you up with someone else, and I said it was a horrible idea because I hate when people set you up with others.”

“Mmm hmmm.” He mumbled as he watched you ramble. He loved when you got like this. You were just so dang cute when you rambled without really understanding what the other person was saying.

“Because I think we should be able to choose who we date on our own without being set up.” You stopped when you realized something he’d said. “Wait, did you say you have a crush on someone else?”

Stiles started laughing. “I was wondering when you would catch that. Yes I did, and yes I do have a crush on someone else. Someone who’s beautiful and loyal and just downright adorable all the time. Someone I should have seen ages ago.”

Inside, your heart ached. “Who is she?”

He shook his head. “Well I think you know her, she’s in all my classes.”

Your brain went into overdrive, thinking about all the girls you and Stiles shared class with. There was only a handful that were in all your classes. “Melanie?”

Once again he was laughing. “No. Y/n, it’s you.”

The world stopped. You looked up at the dark-haired boy in front of you. His eyes sparkled in the moonlight as he watched you with curiosity.

You point to him. “You like me?” Then you pointed at yourself.

“I do. Ever since the Chimera stuff, as well as me and Malia drifting apart. I realized I had the perfect girl in front of me. Who is more perfect than she realized.”

“But I’m not Lydia. At all.”

“I don’t want you to be Lydia. My crush on Lydia was infatuation for someone I thought I knew. But she’s been pretty keen on ignoring me for years, despite us now being in the same friend group. After the Nogitsune, I started thinking about why I liked her and realized all my reasons for liking her, didn’t make sense. I think I just wanted her because I couldn’t have her. Does that make sense?”

“It does. But you really like me?”

“I do, a lot.”

Smiling, you leaned forward and kissed him. “I like you too, Stiles. A lot. I have since I moved here.”

He smiled and pulled you into another kiss. Stiles was happy he finally admitted his feelings to you. He’d known you had some sort of feelings for him but because of Lydia, you never said a thing. He knew he was truly over Lydia.

“Then will you let me take you on a date?” Stiles asked with hope in his beautiful amber colored eyes.

“Yes, oh my god, I would love that!” You wrapped your arms around his lean body, and he reciprocated the movement. His arms pulled you close as you leaned over the console of his car, where he kept his police scanner.

He kissed your forehead, then your cheek, and finally your lips. His lips were hot against yours. You leaned into the kiss until the console got to be too much. Stiles pulled away and motioned to the back of the car. You nodded before hopping over the console with Stiles hot on your heels.

His arms wrapped around you as he pulled you close once again. His lips found yours in another searing kiss. You’d wanted this for so long, that you simply melted into his kiss. Stiles licked your lips to get you to open up, and you did. His tongue was quick to find yours. Your mouths meshed together in the most perfect way.

Stiles’ hands wondered your body over your clothes, increasing your excitement. The way your bodies fit together, was truly a magical feeling. The kisses had your head swimming while he caressed you in the sweetest way.

You took a hold of the situation and rolled the two of you, until you were on top of Stiles. Your lips left his and started sucking on his neck. Stiles moaned when you found the spot on his neck that had his body feeling alive. He pushed up against you, allowing you to feel the forming bulge in his jeans.

Smiling, you pulled him into another kiss and this time, your hands were the ones exploring his body. You felt every muscle in his body as your hands trailed it like he’d done with you. Stiles’ hands were gripping your waist, holding you in place so he could still have some sort of control over you. But you had your own plans up your sleeve, and you pressed yourself into the bulge that was pushing up into you.

“Oh shit.” He moaned as you did that. He was not expecting that at all. “My dirty girl is taking control, huh?” He groaned as you rubbed yourself on him. Your pussy was soaked at this point and the friction of you rubbing against him, was sending you on a trip.

“I am.” You whispered as you ground down again.

“Fuck, you’re making it hard to take this slow.” Stiles’ grip had tightened on your waist. He was trying to stop you from grinding yourself down on him again.

“What if I don’t want to go slow?” You’d pulled away to study his face. You counted the moles on his face, dying to kiss him again, so you pushed forward to do just that.

He lightly pulled away. “As much as I love that, I would hate myself if we did that. I want to do this right. I want to take you out and show you the world.”

You bit your lip as you thrust your hips down again. A steady pressure was building in your core, and you were so ready for it to burst.

“Y/n, gosh you’re so fucking sexy.” He let go of his inhibitions and pulled your lips back to his. His hands were now exploring your body again, while yours wrapped around the back of his neck. He pushed himself up against your needy core, causing the sexiest moans to fall from your mouth.

“Please Stiles, I need you.” You moaned when one of his hands grabbed a breast and palmed it.

His lips were hot against your skin. “I need you too, shit.” His head fell back as your core connected with his hard cock. He was so ready to release it and plunge into your needy little pussy.

“Then have me, Stiles, I don’t want to wait. I have wanted this for so long and I want this now.” Despite everything, you wanted to feel him, and you wanted him to fuck you right here and now.

“Yes, I would love that.” He flipped you over, so you were beneath him. Then he leaned over the seats to grab a condom from the glove compartment. He pulled you into another erotic kiss when a cellphone went off. Your cellphone.

“Awe fuck.” You mumbled as you leaned over the seats to grab your phone. It was Natalie.

“Hello.” You asked into the phone.

“Where are you, Y/n. Lydia said you were in your room but you’re not. It’s nearly 12:30.” She kept her voice level as she asked. She was never too strict with you. Not after what happened with your parents.

You mouthed that it was Natalie to Stiles.

“Scott and Stiles needed me for some research for school. We lost track of time.” You said quickly as Stiles frowned.

“Okay, well you need to come home. You have school in the morning.” She stated, not sounding mad.

“I will be right there. Thank you Aunt Natalie.” You hung up the phone.

Stiles dropped the condom in defeat. “No sex, huh?”

“I’m sorry Stiles. I think we really lost track of time.” You kissed his cheek and jumped back into the passenger seat. Stiles followed behind and started the car.

“Well it’s probably for the best. I meant what I said when I told you I wanted to take my time with you. You just distracted me with your charms.” His eyes traveled the length of your body. Your face heated up when he did this.

“Alright, I agree. We did move a little fast. I just lost myself when I was kissing you.”

“I know the feeling. Now, let’s get you home. I don’t need Natalie on my case for keeping her niece out all hours of the night.”

“That ship has sailed. But she likes you anyway. Especially after what you and Scott did for me when I moved here.” You smiled in his direction.

He smiled back and put a hand on your thigh as he drove through Beacon Hills towards the house you lived in with the Martin’s. He didn’t move his hand at all, not until he pulled into the driveway.

“I had fun, Stiles. I can’t believe you like me.” Never in the world would you have expected the night to turn out this way.

“Well believe it, babe. I’m all yours. Now I will see you at school tomorrow.” He leaned over to kiss you sweetly. Not letting this kiss grow out of control.  

“Yes, I will see you tomorrow.” You left the jeep and waved bye to him. He stayed in the driveway until you were safely in the house. You stood at the door and watched him leave. A huge smile was planted on your face as you did this.

“Damn, what has you so smiley?” A voice cut through your thoughts. Shutting the door, you found Lydia sitting on the couch watching you.

“I had fun with Scott and Stiles.” You stated, trying to not let her know you had just been making out with Stiles Stilinski in the back of his jeep.

“Sure, that’s totally why you’re smiling. I know you better than that. Who’s the lucky guy?” She stood from the couch and crossed the room to stop in front of you.

“Guy? There’s no guy.” You mumbled, looking away from her.

“Y/n sweetie. Your neck is red like some guy was just sucking on it. Cut the bullshit and tell me who it is. I think I have an idea. But please, do spill.” She smirked as she watched you.

“Uh, it was a friend.” Why couldn’t you just say who it was? It was not like she’d be upset.

She shook her head. “It was Stiles wasn’t it?”

“Um, maybe.”

“It was. He was the one who just dropped you off. Besides, I know you’ve had a crush on him.”

Wait, she knew? “How?”

“Y/n, we’ve been close since birth. I saw all the signs. Why do you think I told you to talk to Stiles tonight?”

“You said you wanted to set him up with someone.”

She laughed. “You, I wanted to set him up with you. I knew if I just nudged you towards him, you would admit your feelings for him. I’m happy he feels the same way.”

“Me too. So you aren’t mad?”

“Why would I be? I wanted him to move on from me and you know I want you to be happy.”

“Thank you, Lydia. I really do like him. I never expected him to like me back though.” Not in the least. Not when your cousin was Lydia.

“How could he not? You’re beautiful Y/n.”

“Because he’s liked you forever.”

“Well it looks like he’s over it. Okay, time for bed. You can tell me all about it tomorrow.” You nodded and the two of you went off to your rooms. A huge smile stayed on your face as you drifted to sleep.

**

You drove with Lydia to school, but you woke up to a ridiculously cute text from Stiles. It was still very unreal that he likes you the way he does. But you knew it was real. The proof was the hickey you had to cover when you woke up. Part of you wanted to leave it there, so people knew, but that was stupid to do.

I hope you slept well, my sweet girl. I was sorta up late when a theory hit me. I did some research; you know how it goes. I can’t wait to see your beautiful face at school. See you soon, gorgeous.

The text had you smiling the whole morning, which freaked Lydia out a little. You texted Stiles back, telling him you couldn’t wait to see him at school. Now that you had expressed your feelings, all you wanted, was to be in his presence.

You pulled up at school and spotted Roscoe in the parking lot, with Stiles leaning against it, with Scott not too far from him. Liam was there too, while Malia had just pulled up to school. Trying to hold in the excitement, you and Lydia joined the group.

Stiles didn’t even hesitate before taking your hand in his. Your group of friends eyed you curiously, but the two of you didn’t really notice at all.

“What’s going on with them?” Scott questioned as he watched the way you both looked at each other.

Lydia chuckled. “Somebody came home extremely late, after being out with Stiles last night. It’s safe to say, the two of them admitted their feelings to each other.” She told them.

“Finally!” Scott shouted, throwing a fist into the air. “It was becoming way too much to keep Stiles’ feelings from Y/n.”

Malia rolled her eyes and smacked Scott on the shoulder. “Knock it off. Stiles was just being Stiles. I knew he would do it eventually.”

You looked to your friends. “You knew he liked me?”

They all nodded, even Liam.

“Shit, he even showed me his feelings for you when we were dating. Stiles isn’t particularly good at hiding his feelings.” Malia stated, wrapping an arm around Scott. The two of them were becoming particularly close since Scott and Kira officially ended things a few months back.

“We also knew Y/n had a crush on Stiles. I mean, I’ve known since it started.” Scott laughed as your face heated up.

“I can’t say I knew about it until Scott told me recently.” Malia admitted.

Liam laughed. “I’ve known since I met you all.”

“Well that’s my cue to go find Aiden. He said he was here early to study.” Lydia waved goodbye before leaving the group.

The fact that all your friends knew that you and Stiles had something for each other but said nothing, was frustrating. “Now that I know my friends have been keeping things from me. Is there anything else you want to tell me?” You said, trying to look serious.

They knew you better than that. “You love us, Y/n. Don’t lie.”

“Perhaps. But I am a little mad at you.”

Stiles chuckled. “No you’re not. You can never stay mad at them for long. They just wanted us to figure it out on our own.” Stiles stated while kissing your cheek.

“I know.” With that, the bell went off and you all headed into the school to go to first period, making plans to meet for lunch in the quad.

*

Lunch rolled around and the group met up in the quad like they said they would. Scott, Malia, Lydia, Aiden, Stiles, and you all sat around the tables. Lydia was particularly invested in Aiden as always.

Stiles was talking about going over to Alex’s house on his break, because the investigator in him couldn’t wait to get more evidence. Luckily, Scott convinced him to wait until after school, where he would be able to go. You were grateful because it would be safer to have Scott with you both.

They were going around taking pictures for the yearbook when they stopped at your table. You all huddled in for the picture. Stiles wrapped an arm around you and held you close as the picture was snapped. Everyone was happy to get a picture of the friend group.

Stiles was practically bouncing off the walls when school ended. You followed him and Scott to Roscoe, you jumped into the back and were all headed to Alex’s house. The closer you got, the more a deep feeling of dread built up in you. Something was up and you kind of didn’t want to know but you had to. Alex needed help.

The jeep pulled up in front of a dark blue house, the same one that Scott had seen when he delved into Alex’s memories. The three of you exited the jeep and headed up to the house. There was something up with it.

Scott led you and Stiles into the home and immediately the three of you were massively confused. It looked like a completely abandoned house. There was hardly any furniture, but the minimal furniture that was there, was dusty as hell.

“Are we sure this is the place you saw?” Stiles asked as he looked around the home.

“Yes, this is the right place.” Scott said as he touched a dining table that had a lone plate setting.

You were silent as you wandered the house. The three of you wandered up the stairs where you found Alex’s room. It was fully furnished, and looked clean and lived in, unlike the rest of the house.

“Oh what the hell is this?” Stiles sighed as we looked at the room.

“This doesn’t make sense. How the hell is the rest of the house empty, but his room is not?”

Scott was silent as he looked at Alex’s belongings. “I’m not sure. This is weird. Let’s see if we can find anything else.” He started to leave the room.

You were looking at the bulletin board when you noticed something odd. There was a picture of Alex, but he was alone, but it was clear there were other people that were supposed to be in the picture with him.

“Stiles, look at this.” He stepped up beside you and took the picture from you.

“Huh, that’s weird. It’s like the others in this picture were completely erased from it.”

“Right, this is not any normal disappearance. Especially since we don’t even know Alex’s parents names.” You flipped the photo, to see if he’d written anything on it, but it was blank.

Stiles stopped short. “Did you hear that?” He muttered as he looked towards the hallway.

Hearing nothing, you shook your head.

He was focused on the door though. “I heard a horse.”

Clearly, he wasn’t joking. You knew when Stiles was joking and right now he was completely silent.

“A horse? Stiles, we’re in a house. There can’t be a horse inside it.”

“Yeah well I hear one and it’s getting louder. Stay here.” He said as he headed for the door. The dread you felt earlier was back and more intense. You looked at the ground and spotted something peculiar. A dirty white bandana laid on the ground. Reaching for it, you saw a flash of a vision. It was some sort of creature on a horse, pointing a gun. You jerked from your thoughts when you heard Scott in the hallway. You rushed to the door.

“Are you okay, Stiles? What happened?” Scott asked as you saw Stiles on the ground. He looked absolutely terrified.

“I saw this ghost rider on a horse. He was coming at me. He was about to shoot me.” He rambled, clearly terrified by the ordeal. Your stomach dropped.

“Stiles, was the ghost rider wearing a handkerchief?” You questioned as Stiles finally pulled himself from the floor.

“No, he didn’t have one on. Why?”

“Because I just found this in Alex’s bedroom.” Holding up the dirty piece of fabric, the two guys studied it. Stiles grabbed it and examined it.

“Shit, let’s see if there is anything else in there.” Scott was quick to go back to the bedroom but stopped when he opened the door. There was no furniture in the room anymore.

“What the hell.” You mumbled, grabbing Stiles’ hand. For the moment, you forgot the vision you had when you touched the fabric Stiles was holding.

The guys were silent as they looked into the room. “We need to get out of here. We need to check on Alex.” All three of you left the house to head to the station. Stiles had handed you the handkerchief again and you studied it while he drove the three of you to the station.

Entering the building, something was very wrong. The cell where Alex had locked himself was empty. No one in the station had any recollection of the boy either. It was like he vanished into thin air, just like the furniture from his room.

“He was taken by the ghost riders.” Stiles said to you and Scott. You had headed back to Beacon Hills High for the Lacrosse scrimmage. Stiles and Scott were late, but coach didn’t really seem to notice.

“Hey, why are you wearing my jersey?” Stiles asked a random kid when he walked by in Stiles’ 24 jersey.

“Coach gave it to me at practice yesterday.” He said with a shrug before walking off.

“Huh, what the hell. Why would coach do that? Did he forget to tell me something?”

Scott shrugged. “Not sure man. Let’s head in to change for the scrimmage.” Scott left you and Stiles for the school. Stiles was looking after the guy who wore his jersey.

“Are you okay, Stiles?” You asked, jerking him from his thoughts.

“Yeah, this is just weird.” You agreed and followed him into the school.

“Hey, I forgot some of my homework in my locker. I need to go grab that. I will meet you in a few.” You told Stiles as you both entered the school. His hand was locked in yours. He was on edge and you could feel it just by the way he held your hand. “Hey Stiles, take a deep breath. You’re going to give yourself a panic attack.” You whispered while putting a hand on his cheek.

He looked to you. “I’m okay.” He assured, kissing you before telling you to get your homework.

You nodded and walked away, feeling like something bad was about to happen. The vision popped back into your head as you walked towards your locker. Why and how did you get a vision? That shouldn’t be possible. At all.

Rummaging through your locker, you looked through your belongings to find the book you need for your homework. You stopped short when you felt someone behind you. You glanced back and saw no one at all. Shaking off the feeling, you found the book you needed and slipped it into your bag.

As you were headed back to Stiles, you saw him looking extremely distraught. You rushed back to him and took his hand in yours.

“What’s wrong?” You whispered making him look down at you.

“They don’t remember me.” He said with a frown.

“Who doesn’t remember you?”

“Your Aunt. Liam, Hayden, and Mason. My dad.” None of them remember me.” His voice was low. You felt the panic building.

“Shit, what’s happening?”

Stiles looked behind him. “They are here.” He gripped your hand tighter and pulled you out of the school.

“Who’s here?” You stopped when you heard the distinct sound of horses.

“The ghost riders. They are back.” He raced around. You could hear them, but you didn’t see them and that scared you.

“Where are they. I can hear them?” You jumped when you heard it from your left. Stiles led you away from them.

“You hear them?”

“Yes.”

“Come on, we have to get out of here.” The two of you ran to his jeep and jumped in. He tried to start it, looking up every other second. When the jeep wouldn’t start. He gave up.

“Y/n listen to me. They are going to take me. This is what they do. They take people and make everyone forget they ever existed. I need you to help me. I need you to remember me.” He said, the panic increasing.

“What, no they can’t take you!”

“They are. Listen baby. I love you; I need you to remember me and help them find me. You have to do this for me.” He was now holding your hands in his.

“Please no, you can’t go. I just got you. I need you.” You whined, feeling tears dripping from your eyes. The sounds of the horses were loud, and you knew you were completely surrounded by them.

“I know, baby. I don’t want this. I need you to stay strong.” He wiped away some of the tears that streamed from your eyes.

“Don’t leave me Stiles. I love you. Please.” He was now crying too.

“I’m sorry baby. I don’t have a choice.” He grabbed your head and pulled you into one last passionate kiss before the door flung open and he was pulled from the jeep. “Remember me, Y/n!” Those were the last words you heard from Stiles before he was completely gone.

“Please no!” You yelled as he disappeared from existence. The tears flowed heavier down your cheeks as the weight of the situation hit you. Stiles was gone and you weren’t sure if he would come back.

Everything hurt. Your heart ached in your chest as you cried for Stiles. It was unreal that he had been taken from you. The two of you only just realized how much you liked each other and now he was gone. The biggest fear was that you would forget him. You didn’t want that.

Holding your hands to your chest, you cried for the boy you now knew you loved. He’d been a huge reason why you were still alive after losing your parents. He pulled you from the dark depression that threatened to claim you.

The two of you had danced around your feelings for way too long, but now it had been ripped out from under you.

“Stiles please, come back! I need you.” You mumbled as the tears never ceased falling.

You glanced in the backseat to see a jacket. Stiles’ jacket. You grabbed it and as you touched it, another vision popped into your head. It was Stiles, being thrown off the horse by one of the ghost riders. The vision was so quick that you couldn’t see where he was at. But it gave you a small sense of hope that you could see him again.

The tears still fell as you grappled with the weight of the heartbreak you felt. It was like losing your parents all over again. The world felt incomplete and you weren’t sure what to do.

The fear of forgetting Stiles, made you stay right in his car. Curled up in the back seats as you mourned his disappearance and prayed he would return to you.

At some point, you managed to drift to sleep but you were plagued by nightmares of the ghost riders, taking the ones you loved. Taking Stiles from you over and over again. It was about 3 am when you were awakened with a start.

There was a loud ringing in your ears, that scared you. You noticed you were in Stiles’ car alone. The disorientation from sleep, made you forget where Stiles was. But the weight of the loss hit you like a freight train.

The ringing was coming from outside the car. You pulled yourself up and jumped the seats to get out. The ringing was loud outside the door. A flash of gold caught your eye.

Bending down, you studied the gold object. It was an old-style pocket watch. You reached down to grab it. The ringing stopped once you held the strange object.

Opening the watch, you noted that the time was stopped at 8:43. The time Stiles had been cruelly ripped from the jeep by the invisible ghost riders.

You closed the watch and turned it over. There were initials on the back. ‘GD’.

“I think that belongs to me.” A voice startled you. You turned to find an unfamiliar man behind you.

“Who are you? What are you doing here so late?” You asked, taking a step back from him.

“I’m a teacher here, and I lost track of time because well it looks like I dropped my watch out here.” There was something unsettling about him. “I’m Mr. Douglas, one of the new teachers here.” He added.

“Okay.” You watched him closely.

“Can I have my watch back?” He eyed the gold piece in your hands.

“Oh yes, here.” You handed him the watch, hoping he would leave you alone.

“Thank you, darling.” He placed the watch in his pocket. “What are you doing out here so late anyway? Alone I might add.”

“I’m not alone, I’m here with my boyfriend.” Your heart constricted when you said that.

“Where is he?” A sick smirk entered his face. “I don’t see him around here, Y/n.”

Chills went through your body. You had never met this guy, so how the hell did he know your name.

“Uh, I have to go.” You quickly hopped back into the jeep and locked the doors. Mr. Douglas stood outside and watched you. The keys were still in the ignition, so you turned them and hoped the jeep would start. It did.

As quickly as you could, you raced away from the school in Stiles’ jeep Roscoe.

PART TWO >>

[mgg-theprettiestboy]

cross my heart (pt. 2)

spencer reid x oc

cross my heart masterlist

word count: 2118

It was a week later that Spencer bumped into her again.

He had just gotten back from a four day case in New Mexico, and had hardly slept during the case, so he slept on the flight home. And when they landed at night, he was fully awake, despite it being 10pm. So, after hours of restlessness, he decided to go to his favourite little corner of the world.

This time, there was no chaos. There was no yelling, or cursing, or collapsing of books. There was the faint sound of music, and an overwhelming smell of coffee, and that ‘new book smell’, despite the fact that most of the books were in fact, rather old.

And the sight of Raye sitting cross legged on one of the sofas, reading. It wasn’t a Narnia book this time, but she looked just as invested in it.

“Reid, hey,” Tamara said, her voice strained. He dragged his eyes over to her, moving closer to the counter. It was only then that he saw her eyes were red and puffy, and she wasn’t making direct contact. He didn’t want to pry or overstep, but he was tired and he usually didn’t have a filter anyways, and concern drove his actions, “hey, are you okay?”

Tamara huffed a laugh, her eyes darting to Raye, before back to the doctor, “had a fight with my girlfriend. It happens, don’t worry. What can I get for you?”

It didn’t take a profiler to tell that she didn’t want to talk about it, so Spencer just ordered a coffee. Whilst she made it, he wandered over to the bookshelf to pick out a book. He had read them all already, but would happily reread them again. Tamara kept the book collection flawless, it was mostly classic literature, and older books, all of which Spencer would read. He didn’t think he would like there it as much, if it was all bad sci-fi and cheesy romances.

He glanced back to Raye, trying to sneak a peak at the title of her book. He was surprised to see her looking at him. They both looked away bashfully, Spencer trying to fumble with a book to make himself look busy, as Raye buried her face in her book, literally this time.

She thought he was kinda cute, obviously. Who didn’t? He had the kind of hair she wanted to rake her hands through, and these puppy dog eyes. Not to mention the fact that he was heads taller than her. He was wearing a purple dress shirt and tie, but last time she saw him, he had a cardigan on. And she couldn't help but notice the converse on his feet. That made her smile.

Plus, he had this wholesome vibe. He was always nothing but polite, and had such a kind face. Raye could bet he was a momma’s boy.

“Do you have any recommendations?” His voice broke her out of her trance, her eyes meeting his, “huh?”

“I trust your taste. Is that Austen?” Spencer said, tipping his head at the book she held, “between C. S. Lewis and Jane Austen, I think your opinions on books are solid, from my observations so far. So, do you have any recommendations?” As previous mentioned, Spencer had read all the books before. He didn't know why he was asking her. Actually, yes he did, he was just to embarrassed to admit it to himself.

“Have you ever read any Arthur Conan Doyle? Sherlock is one of my favourite characters to exist, like, ever. Movies and shows don't do him justice,” Raye said with a soft smile, her hand trailing up and down the spine go her book, as if it were a cat or something else comforting, “I think there’s a copy of The Hounds Of Baskerville on the shelf.”

Spencer didn’t even know he was smiling, until he realised it was border-lining a grin. He turned back to the shelf, scouring over the titles to find the one he suggested. All the while, Raye was trying to stomp at the butterflies in her stomach. She would squish them with her bare hands if she had to.

“Thanks for the recommendation,” he said once he found the book, turning to her, “I’ll be sure to give you my thoughts once I’m done.”

“Please, do. But if they're anything but positive, then I don't think we’ll be good friends,” she said with a smile. Spencer returned it, nodding at her before going to read a book that he had read 65 times already. But who was counting?

-

They continued doing this for weeks to come. If Spencer came back to the cafe at a ridiculous hour, she would be there. 96.4% of visits resulted in him seeing her. And he would give his thoughts on a book she had recommended, or vice versa, as he would begin to recommend books to her as well. 

They would never share a table, though. Never have a full, proper conversation. Spencer couldn’t figure out if he was being a chicken, or if he was picking up the right signals; that Raye didn't want to talk to him. She would always indulge his thoughts on literature, but as soon as the conversation would steer elsewhere, she would shy away. She wouldn't even look at him. Maybe she was shy? Nervous? Spencer understood that more than anyone. Still, he was nothing if not a gentleman, and never pushed any further.

But he figured that if he didn't push, he would never get anywhere with her. And did he want to get somewhere? He didn't know. But part of him was curious, part of him wanted to know more about her, more than just what she thought about writings. Was that odd? The last time he felt like this was with... was with Maeve. But this felt different. 

And he wanted to know more about her.

-

It had been three days since he saw her, and he was already getting antsy. It was a paperwork day for him, so he had no excuse to be awake, other than he was restless at the thought of her, alone, sitting in the cafe, completely absorbed in a good book, and content with a hot chocolate.

And his imagination was nothing if not accurate. She was reading Bronte this time, and an empty hot chocolate sat on the table beside her. She didn't seem as stressed, like she was last week, when reading Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein. She seemed relaxed, and completely and utterly satisfied. A good book can work wonders, Spencer thought. 

Tamara wasn't working, which made this a little easier for him. One less set of watching eyes. Spencer ordered a cappuccino and hot chocolate, trying to steady his shaky hands as he brought the cups to her table. He couldn't even think of what to say, so he just simply sat the hot chocolate on her table.

“I didn't order-? Oh, Spencer, hello,” Raye relaxed at seeing him, before her brows furrowed in confusion, “what's this?”

“An apology hot chocolate, for my most recent recommendation. I know you didn't enjoy Frankenstein that much, I watched you as you read it,” he said, and she sighed, “was it that obvious?” “It was, yeah. Not a fan of the genre, I get it,” he said with a laugh, making her smile, “well, thank you. I owe you a coffee then.”

“No, don't be ridiculous, you don’t owe me anything. Except maybe another recommendation,” he said, a hint of teasing in his voice making her smile, “uh. okay. I think I can do that. The Da Vinci Code.”

He gave her a deadpanned look, making her throw her head back and laugh, “c’mon, we agreed to read whatever the other one suggested, regardless.”

“I saw the movie. Seriously?” He grimaced, and she giggled. He was quick to stop grimacing.

“I think you’ll enjoy it, really. Besides, the only make a movie if the book is popular. And books are popular, ‘cause they’re good,” she retorted. He nodded slowly in thought, “you pose a good point... fine. I’ll read it.”

Raye grinned in victory, before sitting up to rummage through her bag, “believe it or not, Tam doesn't actually have a copy of it in the shop, so I brought my copy from home. And whenever you're finished with it, just throw it on a shelf in here. Someone else can enjoy it, or I’ll find it again.”

Spencer took the book she handed him, smiling softly at seeing the worn edges and turned corners, “I’ll make sure to get it home safely, don't worry.”

There was a beat of silence, and before she could say anything, he spoke, “is it okay if I sit here?” “With me?” She asked, as if she was unsure of what he was asking. He replied, “with you.”

She nibbled at her bottom lip, but was quick to nod. Baby steps, Spencer thought. He sat down, sitting his cappuccino and newest read on the table, before smiling at seeing the book she held, “Vilette, huh?”

She smiled, holding the book close to her chest, “I’m a sucker for a good romance novel. Have you read it?”

“Years ago. I’ve already expressed my distaste for the romantics, but that is a classic,” he said, lifting his coffee to take a drink, “did you know that Charlotte Bronte’s first book was rejected by every publisher in England? They didn't approve of women authors. when she wrote to the poet Robert Southey, he replied saying that ‘literature cannot be the business of a woman’s life, and it ought not to be’.”

“Sexism’s a bitch,” Raye said with a sigh, resting her head in her hand as she looked Spencer over once, “how do you know so much? Every time you talk, its like you’ve memorised a million facts to support your own argument.”

He squirmed slightly in his seat, rubbing the back of his neck, “I, uh, I have an eidetic memory.”

“Whats that?” Raye asked. And for once, Spencer didn't hear any sort of confusion or disinterest in the question. She was curious.

Spencer stuttered, before he began to explain, “eidetic memory is a memory that retains everything you read. So everything I read, I remember. And I read a lot.”

“I watched you read one day, and I couldn't believe it. You finished a novel in like four minutes. That’s insane,” she said, and he blushed slightly, “I can read just over 20,000 words a minute.”

“Holy shit. That’s everything I’ve ever wanted! You–you can just binge read books in seconds, and then never forget them! You can memorise every amazing detail,” she exclaimed excitedly, before slumping back in her seat, “man, I’m jealous of you.”

He chuckled, “it does have its advantages, I’ll admit.”

She tilted her head, and Reid couldn’t help but compare her to a confused puppy in that moment, “are there disadvantages?”

He shrugged slightly, breaking eye contact to look at his hands, “sometimes I begin to ramble, because I just... I know a lot about something, and then I get excited because I think that people are like me, that they want to learn more about the world. They usually don’t. And then I feel so–“

“Then they’re assholes,” Raye interupted, and Spencer looked back to her. There was a slight redness to her cheeks now, “if someone shoots you down while you’re talking about something you’re passionate about, then they’re an asshole.”

He smiled softly, glancing down to his book bashfully, “thats nice of you to say.”

“Well, it’s the truth. I don't like bullies,” she said firmly, “and I think you're cool. And I think the things you know are cool too.”

He laughed softly, smiling down at his book. He felt all warm at her words, but was still to embarrassed to look back up at him.

“I like peonies,” Raye said randomly, before shaking her head as she realised how strange that sounded, “do you know any facts about peonies?”

Spencer looked up to her, before nodding slowly, “peonies represent wealth and honour. They’re the flower you traditionally receive on your twelfth wedding anniversary, did you know they’re native to...”

Spencer rambled on about peonies for another ten minutes, and talked about more and more flowers for the rest of the night. Raye clung onto his every word, smiling and nodding enthusiastically, responding when she could. And it was genuine. Spencer knew when someone was feigning interest, but not her. And for a brief moment, he let himself hope, that maybe, just maybe, she might want to know more about him too.

-

NEXT CHAPTER

yes, raye brought the book with her to the cafe, in the hopes that she would run into spencer and give it to him :)

taglist: @slutforthegubes @pinkdiamond1016 @itsmyblogandillreblogifiwantto @fallinallinmendes @beyonces-breastmilk @spencerlikesapplejuice @pastathighs @gcblers @hushfakebitches @ijustcomeheretoread @thelovelyrose @leam-2001 @madison-malfoy @averyhotchner @haylaansmi

[classic80sand90smovieloves2]

Meeting and Dating Jack Vincennes

(My gif)(Requested by @arianatheangelworld )

- Ahhh Jack Vincennes …what could you say about Jack Vincennes? 

- He was a sell out, a jack ass, a man who didn’t deserve half the recognition and fame that he got. Oh yeah, and he was also your coworker. 

- Alright fine, so he was charming, kind of handsome, and admittedly good at his job; as overrated as you thought he was. You didn’t care. You refused to be another one of those girls who schmoozed up to him and looked like a floozy fool for giving into Mr. Hollywood. 

-  But you didn’t actually hate him; you didn’t even dislike him, and that was the problem. You liked him, you genuinely liked him, but you didn’t think you were good enough. Any friendliness or flirtation he showed you was immediately written off as him just wanting something easy or casual and the idea hurt you enough to make you turn down anything he offered. 

- It didn’t help that Jack was the least genuine acting person in the building at any given time but I digress. 

- You worked as a secretary, you went about your day delivering and organizing files and taking phone calls for different officers; that was why you came into contact with Jack so much. 

- Things would have probably continued on with you turning down all of his invitations and flirting had you not been able to see a different side of him during a case of his. 

- It was a sensitive case, a little girl and her mother reporting something. You didn’t know the details but as you went to walk past his room, you could see him comfort that little girl as she cried.

- It wasn’t that phony police comfort either; the kind where they’re just doing it to calm someone down enough to talk more. No, it was genuine, sincere comfort; albeit a bit rusty and awkward.

- You could only stand there for a minute or so but that minute ran through your mind the entire rest of the day. It was only then that you thought to yourself that you might have gotten the wrong idea about Mr. Jack Vincennes.

- This thought continued to replay in your head for the rest of the week, it was all your mind ever drifted to. By the time Friday came around, you were just about at your wits end and you had to do something about it before you lost your job from daydreaming about the man.

- So, when everyone was leaving the office, you called out to Jack before he walked out the door and hesitantly asked if he wanted to join you for a drink. He teasingly asked if you were feeling okay and for a minute you were about to take back your invitation, but then he offered you his arm and told you that brandy usually helps with a fever.

- As you could have guessed, you had your first date at a classy little bar near the station. He paid for all your drinks no matter how much you tried to insist he didn’t have to, and by the end of the night, you were just drunk enough to not feel the cold of the winter evening.

- He drove you home, the two of you said a friendly goodnight and just as he was leaving, he mentioned that one of his Hollywood friends was going to have a party. With a smile, you told him that you’d check your schedule and happily disappeared inside of your home.

- The two of you share your first kiss a few nights later after said party. You were caught in a slow dance when he’d just leant down and pressed a soft kiss to your lips. When you pulled away, you nestled your face against his chest with a smile and continued to dance.

- Well, turns out Mr. Hollywood was a lot different than what you’d expected, and boy were you happy to find that out.

- Jacks incredibly proud of you. He wants to show you off so of course he’s going to make it known that you’re together; he also just can’t help but be affectionate towards you since he likes having his hands on you. 

- His arm around you, usually with his hand gripping your arm; he likes it better than just throwing his arm around your shoulder. 

- His hand on the small of your back whenever he’s beside you.

- Slow, soft kisses. 

- Heated kisses pressed to your face and neck. 

- Laying your head in his lap, he’ll usually move his hand to play with your hair whenever you do. 

- He spoils you in a lot of ways; mainly materialistically but he’ll do so with affection and his words as well. You deserve the best for being the best.

- Expensive gifts. Hey, all that dirty money should go somewhere good, right?

- Romantic dinners at upscale restaurants.

- Dancing together.

- Being introduced to; relatively, famous people.

- Getting to go backstage with him during television shoots.

- Going to parties with him.

- “You want to get out of here” is a common phrased used when you’re out together; especially when you wear that little red number that he likes so much.

- Late nights walks around town while you’re cheerfully tipsy on champagne and wine.

- Always having someone there to light your cigarettes. He’ll already have a match out by the time you’ve got one between your lips.

- Flattery. It might sound like he’s just blowing smoke up your ass half the time but he does actually believe what he says.

- He definitely had you go into a studio for headshots so that he could have a professional, pretty photo of you to have in his home. He constantly tells you that you should be a movie star with a face like yours.

- Teasing each other. He loves being an asshole and that isn’t going to change just because the two of you are in a relationship.

- He may give you hell sometimes but he’ll always do what you ask of him after he sees how important what you’re asking for is to you.

- Pet names that started out as mocking but have slowly evolved into something more affectionate and loving.

- Chivalry. He always uses his manners when he’s with you; especially when you’re out on the town together. 

- Sharing looks with each other when something happens or someone says something. 

- He has trouble keeping a straight face whenever a situation isn’t really important so expect that you’ll be able to see how proud he is of you whenever you do something. 

- Early mornings spent together. 

- Tying his tie for him and adjusting his coats. You’re a big part of how he looks so put together all of the time.

- Working late nights at the office.

- Occasionally, he’ll be forced to go out during the night because of work so you’ll just have to put up with being carefully moved and oftentimes woken up at odd hours. 

- The two of you cuddle with your head laying on his chest and his arms wrapped around you. He stays up and thinks instead of falling asleep some nights and that’s one of the easier and more relaxing positions the two of you can be in; at least for him.

- Comforting him after he’s had a rough day; even though he usually tries to play it off and act like he’s fine. It still means a lot to him even if he doesn’t let you know. 

- Hiding a smile at his obvious annoyance when the hush-hush guy comes around. You just politely say hello as you stand by his side. 

- He thinks it’s cute whenever you get jealous and usually teases you for a bit but he’ll always end up reassuring you that he isn't interested in whoever it is you’re talking about. 

- He’s a smartass, he’s annoying as all hell, but you cant help but love him to death. 

- Your mother/parents probably love him since they read about him in the newspaper constantly. 

- Even though he thinks pretty highly of himself, he always seeks out your praise as though you’re the only one whose opinion matters. He just knows that you know him better than anyone else and wont just blow smoke up his ass unnecessarily.

- He may occasionally forget your anniversary and things like it but he’ll always do his best to make it up to you when he figures out why you’re disappointed. Roses, diamonds, wine; he pulls out all the stops to try and make it right.

- He thinks you’re just as pretty as a movie star yet even sweeter and more accessible so he certainly gets jealous when guys approach you. He’ll usually play it cool like he always does, only showing his true colors as he later says something like “I don’t know about that x guy” and makes borderline accusations about them.

- He’s a cop, he’s seen shit, so he’s obviously going to be protective of you. He’s not big on fighting but he’ll flash his badge and order people to get away from you if they won’t back off or offer to go look for them when you tell him about something.

- He plays that whole dismissive, smart ass, sarcastic act when you’re arguing but always genuinely feels bad when you just walk off. It’s only then that he calls after you and wants to talk but you’re usually annoyed enough to just ignore him at that point.

- He’s a bit rusty when it comes to apologizing but he gets by. He’ll buy you flowers and tell you “what can I say, I’m an ass” after he actually apologizes, making you smile even if you don’t really want to.

- He doesn’t say that he loves you a ton but he says it enough for it to leave you with a warm, familiar feeling every time that he does. 

- He knows that he wants to marry you so it’s only a matter of time before he proposes. He also can’t say that he’d mind having a little tyke running around. 

[maybankiara]

BAD BUSINESS

3: NOW IT’S TIME FOR ME TO GO

pairing: Rafe Cameron x John B’s Girlfriend!Reader

summary: Breakups are never an easy thing, and this one is no different. The only thing that makes it worse is that when you finally think you’re done with the situation, Rafe sends you a text.

word count: 5k

warnings: mild cursing, cheating

additional: it’s a big one, it features two original characters, and some very tense car situation (like, angst tense).

masterlist | tag list

previous part | next part

Shelley is a good friend. 

  Well, mostly.

  Upon hearing that not only did you sleep with Rafe, but he also gave you food and drove you to her place in the morning, she started to laugh. She called it absurd, and you had to agree. It is absurd. But it’s the truth, anyway, so you told her you needed her help on figuring out what the fuck to do. 

  That’s when she asked the question: ‘What about John B?’

  And this is how, a couple of hours later, you find yourself walking to the Chateau, with no idea what you’re going to say. 

  Shelley tried to tell you that you needed a plan to do this whole thing, but you’ve fucked up enough already – you didn’t want John B to think you rehearsed telling him how you fucked someone the night before breaking up with him. You’re going to tell the truth, because John B deserves to know it, and it’ll come out one way or another. 

  It’s not like you trust Rafe to keep it secret, really. A boy like him has got to spread the news of his achievements, and you’d rather it comes from you than some rando. 

  Then again, maybe you should’ve thought this through, you realise as the road you’re walking on takes a turn and the Chateau peaks from the abundance of trees. The sole sight of the place where you slept with John B so many times makes you squirm.

   am i a monster?

  Your thoughts travel back to the morning, and your and Shelley’s conversation replays in your mind. Once Shelley recovered from her initial shock of you having slept with none other than Rafe Cameron, she asked you tons of questions, most of which you didn’t have an answer to. 

  John B was never going to be the one for you and yes, deep down, you’ve known it from the very start. No, you didn’t go there intending on sleeping with Rafe, but it certainly set in stone any doubts you had about breaking up with your boyfriend. You didn’t know if Rafe had intended it happening any more than you did; you didn’t know what that meant for the two of you; you didn’t know what that meant for the half of your time that you spend not only on the Cut, but with John B’s friends, too. 

  But one thing Shelley never said is that she was surprised with the events. Not with you wanting to break up with John B—a blind man could’ve seen it coming—but not you ending up with Rafe, either. 

  Not even with you not having any regrets. 

  ‘Does that make me a monster?’ you voiced your concerns to your best friend, your legs draped over her sofa.

  ‘A little bit.’ Shelley had never been the one to hold back; it stung a little. ‘But you weren’t happy with John B. Rafe was there. You got your frustrations out. You were going to break up with him anyway.’ She slung her legs over yours and sipped her mojito. ‘I’d say it was worth it.’

   You frowned at her words, unable to understand how you truly felt about the whole situation. ‘I know I should feel guilty. I feel guilty for not feeling guilty.’

  Shelley shrugged with such ease you would’ve thought the two of you were talking about picking one dress over the other. ‘It happened. Mulling over it won’t help. Besides, hooking up with Rafe Cameron on a whim is more like you than being serious with John B.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘It’s not a coincidence that the moment you stop thinking about John B and his shitty friends, you do whatever the fuck you want.’

  It was one of those things that Shelley says that sound smart, but she kept sipping on her mojito at eleven in the morning in her mini-mansion, looking like the basic girl who had too much money and too little attention. You couldn’t take her seriously, even if you somehow understood exactly what she meant.

  Not enough to be able to decipher it, but enough for it to hit something in your conscience – the same part that told you whatever happened last night, was okay.

  John B deserves to know, and whatever comes of it, you deserve it.

  The Chateau appears ominous as you approach it. It’s a simple house, built the way all beach houses on the Cut were, and there’s more than a fair share of memories tying you to it. 

  Your steps are heavy. 

  This is a moment you’ve thought about more than once, yet it feels as if nothing could’ve prepared you for the unsettling feeling in your gut. It’s like an open, never-ending hole that’s gaping wide open with its own gravity, suck in everything that gives you courage. To say you feel sick would be an understatement, but you push one leg in front of the other, until your knuckles are tapping against the door. 

  ‘Get out and be a boss bitch,’ Shelley told you. 

  ‘Easier said than done,’ you retorted, and now the words ring truer than ever. 

  John B opens the door with a smile on his face. His hair is shaggy and chin-length, a lighter shade of brown this time of the year, with more texture to it from the sea salt. He’s got the smile that makes him seem reliable and kind, and the dimples and the curve of his Cupid’s bow have always been what made your knees go weak. 

  Now, your knees go weak for a different reason. 

  He goes in for a hug and a kiss, but you turn your head and he kisses your cheek, instead. 

  ‘Hi,’ you say. 

  ‘Hey.’ John B’s hands are still on your shoulders, even when he pulls back with a little wrinkle between his eyebrows. ‘Everything okay?’

  You nod. Over his shoulder, the Chateau appears to be empty. ‘Is anyone else here?’

  ‘Not yet. They’re supposed to come over in an hour or so, I think.’

  ‘Okay.’ You pull your lips in your mouth, scratching your neck. ‘Can I come in?’

  John B tells you ‘of course,’ then steps aside as he lets you into the house. As you pass him, you’re overflown by his scent – sweat and salt and sandalwood, hastily buried under a cheap cologne. 

  The pullout couch, the floor in front of it, the kitchen counters, the bench on the porch, the hammocks, the beds – John B and you have marked each of these spots. A dozen memories rush to your mind, each more painful than the last. 

  As you take a seat on the couch, you try not to think of the last time you were here. But John B sits down next to you, close enough for your knees to be touching, and the memory is all you can see. 

  It was the whole group, that night. It must’ve been a Tuesday, because Kiara was off her shift and so was Pope, and JJ was nearly always here, anyway. The five of you had leftovers from the Wreck, each of you chipping in a small amount of money for Kiara’s dad. John B’s arm was slung over your shoulders and your back was against his chest. 

  JJ cracked jokes as you stuffed your mouth with fries. Pope kept commenting on the jokes, getting JJ all worked up, which made Kiara laugh to the point where she would snort every so often. 

  It was a good time. You like the Pogues, even if you don’t have much in common with them. You might be from the Cut, officially, but your area is somewhere in the middle, close enough to Kooklandia that your family’s financial situation is more similar to Kiara’s than any of the boys’. And you aren’t like Kiara – you aren’t a Pogue at heart. 

  Later that night, John B and you had another fight. It was about something you can’t even recall – maybe about how you were too snappy with his friends, or maybe how Kiara’s gaze lingers on him and he’s not exactly opposed. It could be anything; you’ve had enough arguments for them all to blend into one another. They always end the same, anyway – with both of you at least partly naked, panting, and not having resolved anything. 

  This one was no different. In the morning, you left the Chateau without really acknowledging the boy asleep at your side. 

  Come think of it, you can’t remember the last time you even spoke to him in the mornings, let alone kissed him, or cuddled up to him. 

  You cover your eyes with a hand, running it over your face. ‘I’m sorry. I’m not really having a good day.’

  John B takes this as his cue to put a hand on your back, rubbing what are probably supposed to be soothing circles into it. ‘I can tell you’re hungover. How was the party?’

  ‘It was okay.’

  i need to tell him. 

  The memory of John B at the other side of bed blends with the one from this morning, of Rafe, and a shudder runs through you. You lean forward, resting your elbows on your knees, and your boyfriend’s hand disappears.

  ‘Hey,’ you hear him say. ‘It’s okay. You can talk to me.’

  The truth behind his words might be the worst part. 

  ‘I’m fine.’ 

  You lean back against the couch. A moment later, you pull your legs up instead, cross them, and lean against the armrest, instead. 

  John B is looking at you the way he looks at everyone else. Innocent eyes, gullible face, and a kind smile. It’s the kind of face that you used to think could give you the safety and comfort you thought you needed. 

  The face blends with another, blonde hair slick with sheen sweat; eyes full of mischief, lips crooked with bad intentions, and bone structure made for boarding school posters.

  You blink it away. 

  ‘You’re a great guy, John B.’ Your voice is dry and empty, and somehow that is even worse than if it were laced with emotion. ‘I’m pretty sure you’re, like, an angel or some shit. It’s not even fair.’

  He chuckles, shaking his head. It’s because of the odd smile on your face that he seems a little unsure of what to do with himself – his hand twitches as if it’s about to rest on your knee, but he puts it in his lap, instead. 

  He doesn’t know where this is going, you realise. Or maybe he does – but he’s not letting himself believe it. 

  It makes you sigh, because it makes you feel all the worse. 

  just fucking say it

  You gaze straight into your eyes, despite the heaviness in the pit of your stomach, despite your heart racing inside your ribcage, despite the room starting to spin a little. You’re going to be honest because John Booker Routledge does not deserve to be lied to. 

  You may not love him the way you’re supposed to, but your respect and admiration for him are endless. 

  So you begin. ‘Last night, I…’

  It’s supposed to be easy, because you know what you need to say, but your brain freezes and the words drift from your tongue, your lips tremble and your eyes can’t detach from John B’s. They’re kind, and caring, and even though he’s probably starting to catch on to what’s happening, he still looks at you as if you matter – as if he’s saying it’s okay, i’m here for you. The corners of his lips tug to the side and you see the earnesty in their curve, and the dimple in his cheek reminds you of all the times he stood by your side when you needed him, when he lent his shoulder for you to cry on, and the softness of his hand that’s now on your knee reminds you of how innocent and gullible he is and you can’t ruin it. 

   Maybe John B was the person you needed at the time because he’s all these things, and maybe you’ve been drifting away from each other for a while, but he doesn’t deserve what you’ve done to him. You see trust in his eyes, despite everything, and in that moment, you hate yourself.

   You don’t have the right to kill that innocence.

  So you put his hand away from your knee as softly as you can, and clear your throat. ‘Last night I was thinking about us. I don’t think we’re happy anymore. Not together, at least.’

   The wrinkle between his eyebrows is back. ‘Are you— What are you trying to say?’

  His name is soft on your lips, your head tilted to the side. ‘You know what I’m trying to say.’

  He takes a moment and you give it to him. 

  ‘Is it because you don’t trust me?’

  ‘No,’ you tell him honestly. ‘I just don’t think this is working. I don’t really belong with your friends and you don’t belong with mine.’ You don’t acknowledge you’re the one who doesn’t deserve trust. ‘All we do is argue.’

  ‘We have good times.’

  ‘We have good times, but it’s not enough to just have them. Spending time shouldn’t be something we both feel like it’s required of us – stop, you know it’s true. Look, you’re honestly a great guy and I wish it could’ve worked out, but it hasn’t and it won’t.’

  You breathe out, for the first time in what feels like forever. The corners of John B’s lips fall as he turns his head away; you watch his Adam’s apple bobble, hear him quietly sigh. His skin is flushed and lips shaking, but he doesn’t look too rattled. You’ve seen him rattled when his dad went missing for a few days – this isn’t it. 

  All it looks like is John B taking a moment for your words to sink in, is all. 

  At last he nods. He glances at you and his face is still flushed, but his eyes are dry. ‘You’re right. This has been a long time coming, hasn’t it?’

  ‘Yeah, it has.’

  It’s quiet, but it’s comfortable, too. The tension that’s been between you two for a while has been lifted. 

  You want to pull him into a hug, but it’s selfish – he’s not the one who needs it, and he’s not the one who should give it to you. 

  ‘Friends?’ 

  John B looks hopeful when he asks the question. 

  It’s something you’ve thought about before, and maybe if you hadn’t fucked shit up last night, it could’ve been a possibility. Now, you just give him a shake of head and a smile that you hope is soft enough. ‘I don’t think we can go back there again.’

  He understands. Of course he would – he’s John fucking B. 

  You’re out of the Chateau five minutes later, for good. Some part of you wants to bid goodbyes to the Pogues, too, except you know that’s the part of you that made itself believe that you’re one of them. A clean slate is better.

  The walk home takes you through the woods around the Chateau and you walk next to the beach a little, opting for a detour. The combinated scent of fresh air, trees, and the sea has always had the ability to calm you down – one of the reasons why being around John B used to feel good. Sand glides underneath your feet and you glance at the kids playing in it a few feet away, not a care in the world. 

  It’s not that you’re dishevelled or rattled or upset. Okay, upset might be applicable, but overall you’re fine. Like the two of you agreed, the breakup has been a long time coming. 

  the only problem, you think as you kick a red solo cup that’s on the sand, is last night’s fuckup. 

  With John B out of the way, the only thing left to think about is what the fuck am i going to do with rafe? It’s not like you see the guy often, but the idea that he’ll spread rumours about you makes your skin shiver. 

  You fumble with your purse and finally text Shelley it’s been done. She wants to call, naturally, but you make a promise you’d call once you’ve taken a shower, had some time to think, and stuffed some food into your mouth. 

  Miss Dollinger [7:32pm]: fine bitch hmu once you’ve got your priorities sorted

  That’s as sweet as Shelley is going to get. 

  The same solitude offered by the beach that usually calms you, is daunting now. Your home is a little over an hour’s walk from where you are right now, and it’s an hour during which you plan to deafen your thoughts by listening to music, or a podcast, or anything. 

  Like always, the plan is to leave the thinking to tomorrow. 

  It’s about half an hour later that your earbuds are blasting an old Bon Jovi album and you almost miss the vibration from your phone. You take it out of your pocket, click the unlock button, and glance over the text message. 

  Unknown Number [7:59pm]: one of your friends left her phone at Coopers. text me your location and I’ll come give it to you. Rafe

  Moments later, you get another message: a picture of a phone screen with you, Shelley, and your other Kook friend Siobhan on it. Some random guy took this at a party a few months back, during spring break, and you didn’t even know that’s Siobhan’s screen saver. It has to be, though – both Shelley and you have your phones. 

  You sigh, because as much as you don’t want to deal with Rafe anymore, it is important. 

  Throwing a quick glance at your surroundings, you realise you’re almost halfway to your home, currently in the very middle of the Cut. It’s the place with tiny streets, small houses that are all in different stages of falling apart, and a few small local shops that somehow sell the best things you could ever find. 

  Me [8:02pm]: Lincoln St., Danny’s Bakery. Be quick.

  It’s a little past eight and you’ve been to Danny’s enough times to know that he both is open till eight thirty, and sells something you’d manage to find money for in your purse. 

  Rafe texts you that he’ll meet you in fifteen, so you kill time by eating what could easily be one of the best croissants you’ve ever had. It might have something to do with the atmosphere, too – you’re hungover, just back on the singles market, having managed to do a really bad thing the night before, and are currently waiting for the said bad thing to come meet you. 

  this croissant really is the highlight of my last twenty-four hours.

  You’ve got music in your ears loud enough to drown out both the sound of people and whatever thoughts might want to be running through your head, so it’s not a surprise it takes you a while to notice your name being called. It’s accompanied with a hand hitting the car door with an open palm, accidentally—or on purpose—to the beat of Jon Bon Jovi singing ‘i never knew i had a dream/ until that dream was you’.

  The moment you glance to the right, you grunt. 

  ‘Y/N,’ the blond says instead of a greeting. 

  One earbud pops out of your ear. ‘Rafe.’

  The car that’s parked so close it’s almost behind you is an older Ford pickup truck, black and a little beat-up. In the driver’s seat, a little too close for your liking, is Rafe Cameron, with one of his hands hanging out of the window, definitely tapping along to the beat. 

  ‘You’ve got a good taste,’ he tells you. ‘But you should probably turn that down if you want to be able to hear in ten years’ time.’

  It’s not something you dignify with a response, but you do turn the volume down quite a bit. You look around, and people are giving the two of you odd looks – you don’t know whether it’s because of the fact that you’re sitting and talking to a guy in a car next to you, or because the car is very prominently not owned by someone from the Cut. 

  ‘You shouldn’t have come in that,’ you say, only for him to hear. ‘You stick out. People are noticing.’

  ‘I don’t mind.’

  ‘I do. Just give me the damn phone, Rafe.’

  He presses his lips together, sighing as he reaches into the car. He hands you the phone and you confirm it’s Siobhan’s, as her password is the same one she’s had for years now. 

  ‘Thanks.’

  It’s getting quite late and walking to Siobhan’s would be quite a trek. The girl lives even deeper within Figure Eight than Shelley does, so you decide you’ll just give it to her tomorrow morning. She’s got a backup phone, anyway. 

  You notice Rafe’s still parked next to you. He’s still tapping, out of beat now that he can’t hear it anymore. He looks different than he did in the morning – his hair is slicked back the way he usually styles it, the polo shirt he’s now wearing is baby blue, and he looks fresh, somehow. 

  He isn’t looking at you, but it doesn’t seem like he’s planning to leave anytime soon, so you get up from the bench you’ve been sitting on for the past ten minutes and start walking. 

  Rafe catches up with you almost immediately, driving his car at the speed of your walking. 

  ‘Are you walking home?’ he asks. His tone is a little shaky and he sounds a little uncertain, which you find ridiculous.

  It doesn’t make you slow down. ‘Why does it matter? You’ve given me the phone, you can go now.’

  ‘Let me give you a ride.’

  ‘Again?’ you scoff. ‘I’m not your charity case, Cameron.’

  ‘I know, Y/L/N. You’re on my way home, anyway. Don’t be difficult about this.’

  ‘Go away.’

  You speed up a little, fumbling with the earphones’ wire. Rafe speeds up, too, but he’s adamant at staying at your pace, even if his car makes it difficult. At this point, it’s a given people are staring. It’s the Cut – everybody’s up in everybody’s business if it’s out in the open for everybody to see. 

  It’s what Rafe doesn’t understand.

  ‘Shit,’ you mumble, because the earphones won’t untangle, and your hands are starting to shake.

  ‘It would be ridiculous if I let you walk all the way home when I can give you a lift.’

  You don’t see it, but you know the Cut well enough to be able to tell that the eyes you feel watching you aren’t just a figment of your imagination. ‘People are staring.’

  Rafe sighs. ‘Then get in the car.’

  You’re in the middle of the street, but you stop in place anyway and turn to him, hands balled in fists. ‘Why do you give a damn?’

  To give him credit, it’s enough to make him hesitate. Both of his hands are resting on the wheel and the whole situation must appear so absurd that you can’t even piece together how the last twenty-four hours even happened. 

  When Rafe finally looks at you, his face is indecipherable. When he speaks, he doesn’t tell you why he gives a damn. ‘Please, Y/N. I don’t know what’s going on, but at least just let me give you a lift. Please.’

  fine, you think. i’ll be your charity case. ‘Will you stop bothering me, then?’

  He hesitates again and you see his Adam’s apple bobble. ‘If that’s what you want.’

  ‘It is.’

  You march over to the other side of the car, agonizingly aware of all the people treating this as their daily dose of Drama From the Cut. True to his words, Rafe is quiet when you enter. He drives slowly, glancing at you ever so often, finding his way around the Cut even if you still haven’t told him where to drive you to. 

  ‘Are you trying to be my chauffeur?’

  A half-smile for a half-joke; Rafe knows he’s threading on thin ice. ‘I’ve got nothing better to do.’

  With resignation, you give him Siobhan’s address. He puts it in the GPS on his phone and places it on the holder propped up on the dashboard. 

  This time, being in a car with him feels different. You’re more sober and more present, and so is he – the tension between you two is palpable, even though he doesn’t glance at you once. His sole focus is the road in front of him, and you hate the fact that yours isn’t. 

  It’s this car that makes Rafe not resemble the Rafe Cameron that’s the prince of Figure Eight. It’s not the newest brand—he has to connect his phone to it with an AUX cord—and it’s not the sleek, shiny, sports car or something like a Range Rover that you see most boys of his calibre drive. It’s big, yes, nothing you’d see around the Cut, but there’s something about seeing Rafe so relaxed behind its wheel that looks beaten up; depressing, almost. 

  There’s no question about this being his car. In the holder, there’s the sunglasses you’ve seen him wear, a bottle of water, some receipts, and loads of empty candy wrappers. Even the music that’s playing is old rock, not songs like rap or whatever it is that rich boys listen to. 

  He begins humming along to the song that’s playing (you’re not sure, but it could be Led Zeppelin). It’s the first sound he’s made since you left Lincoln St. behind.  

  why are you doing this?

  Looking at him doesn’t give you an answer, only more questions. His left arm is resting on the plastic part of the door beneath the window, supporting his head leaning against it. His fingers are tapping along to the beat of the song, light but confident in the way they hold the wheel. 

  You have to look away. 

  Fifteen minutes later, you place the phone in Siohan’s hands. She thanks you for getting it to her and asks a few questions about last night, most of which you don’t answer. She asks if you walked all the way here, but doesn’t inquire when you say a friend gave you a ride. 

  Calling Rafe a friend is more of a way to prevent Siobhan from raising any suspicions, because Siobhan doesn’t really care about your friends that aren’t hers, too. 

  Damage prevention that’s damage control, really. 

  When you enter Rafe’s car again, he’s looking at you with a calm face, waiting for you to say something. 

  Another old rock song plays from his phone. You’re starting to think that might actually be the music he likes, and that doesn’t sit well with the image of him you have in your head. Nothing he’s done today does. 

  You lock in your seatbelt, glancing at him. ‘I’m guessing you’re going to insist on giving me a ride home, still, so I’m sparing us both from the argument.’

  Rafe turns the key and starts the engine, pulling out of Siobhan’s driveway. It seems as if he’s trying to hide it, but you can see the corners of his lips twitching into a smile. ‘I was going to make sure you’d get home safe.’

  ‘I would’ve been fine.’

  ‘It’s the Cut,’ he counters. ‘Not the safest place.’

  ‘I live there.’

  At this point, you’re tired of arguing. It’s whatever. You’re in the same position that Rafe’s still in, only you’re looking out of the window, watching the Figure Eight pass by. 

  He must notice something’s up, because he lowers the music. ‘Do you want to talk about it?’

  ‘The Cut?’

  ‘If it’s the Cut that’s bothering you.’ The car takes a turn, onto the main road. Rafe glances at you. ‘It’ll be easier to get it off your chest than keep it in. I’m going back to college in three days, anyway, so you don’t need to worry about me spilling the beans.’

   You sigh and, for a moment, wonder if trying to understand his motivation is worth it. The concern on his face seems as genuine as you’d get from a person you kinda know. 

  Besides, he’s kind of got a point. 

  You look into your lap, feeling your shoulders hunch as you finally admit what’s happened aloud. ‘I broke up with my boyfriend today.’

  Rafe doesn’t acknowledge your words. His face is distorted in a frown and his shoulder high and tense. ‘Is it because of last—’

  ‘No. I was going to end it anyway.’

  He nods, still unable to look at you. ‘Okay.’

  ‘It doesn’t— It doesn’t make what we did okay,’ you say. It’s the first time it feels as if you’re truly acknowledging that you slept together. You feel the breeze on your face, already starting to feel like summer’s warm air, and it makes you feel uneasy. ‘It wasn’t okay.’

  ‘I know,’ says Rafe quietly. 

  When you turn into your street, five minutes later, he still doesn’t look at you. The ease is gone from his face and you’re glad you’ve arrived – the tension is starting to become unbearable. 

  He pulls up at the beginning of the street. ‘Which one’s yours?’

  ‘I’m getting off here.’ You click the seatbelt and it snaps off loudly, plastic against plastic. The music is still too quiet. 

  ‘Okay.’

  You expect him to insist on driving you straight in front of your driveway, but he doesn’t. He doesn’t take his eyes off the road. 

  It’s something you should be grateful for, because you can only imagine what these houses must look like in his eyes, now that he’s been to two of your friends’ houses. Yours is modest, even if on the high end of the Cut design and architecture. 

  This is the part of you that doesn’t come along with you to parties. 

  ‘Well, um. Thanks,’ you say; you don’t even know what you’re thanking him for. 

  ‘Yeah.’

  You get out of the car without another word. When he drives away, and when you finally arrive at your front porch, all you can think about is his face when you told him you’d broken up with John B. 

  ★

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