#and then i wake up without a hangover at a normal time of the morning naturally and of my own accord

[keirametzbrassknuckles]

What if I just took a total left-turn from wine aunt to weed aunt?

[undiscovered-horizon]

Put it on me - Roronoa Zoro x Reader

SUMMARY: A shared stash of moonshine leads to you pouring your heart out to Zoro. Despite his rather cold exterior, he takes your words seriously and asks you to put some of your burden on him if it ever gets too heavy.

WORDCOUNT: ~ 1.8k

Brought to you by my obsession with this painfully relatable song:

“Save some for me.”

Zoro’s voice wakes you up from the trance. You’ve been mindlessly drinking and reminiscing about the fight for what had to be at least two hours now. Enough time to slur your words and muddy your thoughts but the latter, as welcome as it would be, doesn’t seem to come. Flashes of scenes and echoes of voices still haunt you.

The swordsman nudges the axe you used to crack open the barrel. Quite crude but it works as it should - both a plug and a tap, depending on the blade's position. A spicy, dry stench fills the air as Zoro pours himself some of the dark-coloured moonshine.

He takes a large swing of the mysterious alcohol and winces. Very unlike him. A troubled cough escapes his chest.

“What is this?” he asks.

“The nightmare of hangovers yet to pass, I like to call it.” Used to the questionable taste of the beverage or simply numb due to your current state of light intoxication, you’re unbothered as you take another sip. The liquor burns your throat right down to your stomach. You can almost feel it wreaking havoc on your organism. Good. “We’re both alive and not blind, so definitely not methanol. Maybe it tastes like mouldy socks but it gets the job done.”

Zoro sits down on the ground next to you. His body is suspiciously close to yours, thigh to thigh and shoulder to shoulder, but you’ve grown used to it. It’s an open secret between the two of you - he’s allowing both himself and you this kind of intimacy as long as it remains unaddressed. If it did, he’d have to admit he’s not as aloof towards you as he likes to make himself look and that is not something Roronoa Zoro has the courage to confess.

“Why are you drinking alone?”

“I’m not. You’re here,” you say as you gently poke his arm.

He chuckles and shakes his head. Zoro takes another sip and winces again but not as much as before. The ‘mouldy socks’ flavour is growing on him. Or maybe it’s the alcohol content?

“You can’t fool me,” he says in a low, serious tone. “Something’s on your mind.”

Zoro looks at you out of the corner of his eyes. His gaze is bright, perceptive. Even if you try, you can’t lie and convince him that everything’s in order. It seems that Zoro already knows your mood is foul, just can’t quite put his finger on the why. For a man who claims to be unbothered and uncaring, he sure does spend a lot of time and energy and studying your little habits and quirks. One might even say he appears to have a particular affinity for you.

“I ate shit back in the village,” you mumble without looking at him. You almost puke bolting down the rest of the dark moonshine. “Complete failure. Embarrassing doesn’t cover even half of it.”

Stumbling over the air and your own feet, you get up and pour yourself another cup of alcohol. You can see Zoro’s troubled gaze following your movements but he doesn’t say anything or try to stop you, although he’s sure you’ve had enough of strong drinks for the night.

“You did fine,” he says awkwardly. Despite meaning his words, niceties still have a problem making it through his throat. ���Aside from leaving your left flank wide open but you’d have to die and be reborn to stop doing that.”

Sitting back down next to Zoro, you lose your balance and fall on your backside. Some of the moonshine spills and soaks your shirt. You don’t care about the stain for now but you surely will in the morning when the putrid smell fills your bedroom and refuses to be washed out.

“It was everything but fine,” you scold him.

Surprised, Zoro looks at you with furrowed eyebrows. Never before has he seen you so hung up about mistakes. Normally, you’d shrug and laugh and just say something along the lines of “shit happens, we’ll be better next time”. Still, no matter how much he racked his brain, he simply couldn’t think of anything in particular that could get you like that. Nothing about the day and its battles stands out to him.

“Nami getting hurt was my fault,” you admit. “Luffy and Usopp too. Shit, everything was my fault.” Out of frustration, you rub your face with your free hand.

“Nonsense,” he easily dismisses your self-blame. “You couldn’t have known about the whole human-turned-arsenal crap.” Zoro takes another swing of the mysterious moonshine. This time, he doesn’t wince or cough. Mouldy socks are beginning to taste like champagne. “I don’t think anyone could,” he adds quietly.

You hit the floor with a clenched fist.

“But I did, Zoro,” you drone your words. The image of the pirate captain is clear as day before your eyes. “That’s the thing. The moment I saw that man I knew something was wrong. He moved in a strange way and the way his clothes fit him… It was right there, in front of me. And I was blind like a drunk bat stuck in a pile of cow dung.”

“Hunch isn’t exactly the best strategy. You might as well have been wrong about him and attacked an innocent man.”

“Well, he wasn’t innocent, was he, Zoro?” The anger is rising within you. Why wouldn’t he just accept your fault? Why is he so frustratingly stubborn at putting the blame elsewhere? “I could have prevented all of this or at least given us an opportunity to prepare before Usopp got half of his bones broken with a cannonball. And all of this, Nami nearly dead, because when my moment came, I failed. I hesitated. I questioned my judgment. Like I always do.”

The wooden floor is hit yet again when you look for a way to let out your anger.

“I can’t believe I’m the one saying this, but,” Zoro makes a pause and clears his throat,” you’re being too hard on yourself.”

A silence falls between you. 

The air in the cramped storage room is stuffy, soaking with a plethora of strong smells: damp wood, smoked fish, the dark liquor you’re drinking with the swordsman, aged cheeses that Sanji seems to be a fan of, roasted coffee beans… But all of those aromas are strangely comforting to you, the smells that remind you of a gathering of adventurous underdogs that have grown to be a family.

A gathering that you’ve almost killed today with your incompetence.

“Truthfully, I wish I was like you,” you finally break the silence. Zoro gives you a questioning look. “You never fail, always prepared and ready to fight. Even when you do make mistakes, which is rare might I add, you can prevent anyone else from getting hurt because of you. I wish I had the power to always do the right things and do them well. When will a day come when I finally know how to act? What to do? I make the same stupid mistakes over and over again and nothing seems to change no matter how hard I try. Maybe I’m just broken and you lot are doomed for hanging around me.” For a moment, you look into your cup. Your reflection in the dark beverage is rippling, making your face hardly recognizable. Just like when you compare who you are to who you should be. “At least in my mind, in my fantasies, I'm the hero that saves me,” you whisper to yourself and down the rest of your drink. It’s easier to be delusional when you can’t string a coherent sentence.

The realization hits Zoro like a derailed train. Of course he’s never seen you get hung up over your mistakes - you’ve been holding it inside, beating yourself up away from everyone’s eyesight. Your otherwise happy-go-lucky exterior is a mere facade, the face of someone you’d like to be. And the more you realize it’s not your true face, the more upset you get. How long have gone holding yourself to an impossible ideal? Hating yourself for being anything but perfect and imposing?

How heavy is the real burden on your shoulders?

"I'll do it for you,” he offers quietly.

Your confused gaze meets the confident glint in his eyes. He looks sure of himself - more certain than he normally is. A smile threatens to pull up one corner of his lips.

"Do what?" you ask.

"I'll be the hero that saves you."

A bitter chuckle escapes your lips and echoes throughout the small storage closet. The sound bounces off the wooden walls and comes back to you with a certain depth and delay, making you feel as though it’s the world laughing at you and the poor sod that offers to help you - you don’t hold hands with someone who easily catches on fire, burning everything around them. That’s just stupid.

“Thanks but that still makes me the world’s biggest loser who can’t put the money where their mouth is and is stuck in a perpetual cycle of doom.”

You look away, staring ahead, but Zoro’s eyes linger on you. Sure, he can fight pirates and animals and fishmen and all the strange horrors lurking in the world but how in hell is he going to fight something immaterial? How powerless he feels with three swords at his side and yet no way to fight the foul-tongued beast in the back of your head.

"Just put it on me," he presses on. "If you need help, put it on me. If you're going through Hell, put it on me.” Then, to your surprise, he firmly grabs your hand, squeezing it in a meaningful manner. “Seriously."

You try to wiggle your palm out of his hold but it proves useless - his grip is iron, although not painful. No matter how much you’re enjoying this uncharacteristic intimacy, you know better than to get used to it. Zoro deserves better than to be the victim of your ricochet.

“You’ve got enough on your head already,” you say in a stern voice. “My own bullshit is the last thing you need.”

For the first time in weeks, Roronoa Zoro smiles. It’s not a smile of amusement, of being entertained. No, it’s a smile of seeing something, or someone, he holds dear. In other words, it’s not his mind that rejoices but his very heart and soul.

“I want to worry about you,” he confesses.

Tears are prickling at your eyes and you’re doing everything you can to keep them from falling. Alas, you’re quite far from sober and self-control is not an ability within your grasp. Your face feels hot as teardrops slowly roll down your cheeks.

A bitter scoff leaves your lips. “It will be an unending horror.”

“I’m not afraid,” he reassures you casually. “And we’re in the middle of the sea. I’ve got time.”

Hesitantly, you rest your head against his chest. Zoro welcomes the gesture, letting go of your hand and putting his arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer to himself.

[ninthcircleofprythian]

Unbound

Part 4 - Dancing With Your Ghost

Series Summary - Not having a mating bond didn't stop the love Azriel and Celeste have for each other or their commitment. When an unknown magic lingering from Celeste's past causes her to lose all memories of the last century, will they be able to rebuild their life without a bond tethering them together?

Word Count - 7.2k

Warnings - arousal scents, mention of wing amputation, mention/description of scars, implied SA (offpage), character in pain, hurt/comfort, flashback dream, sexually suggestive dialogue.

Author's Notes - We've made the jump into present time. This chapter takes place 100 years after the previous chapters.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Present Time (100 years later)

The sky was still gray with watery light as the townhouse slowly began to show signs of life. This morning began like most of them did, breakfast as a pair while the rest of Velaris was mostly in slumber, this morning especially. The weekend had brought the revelry and chaos of Starfall with most residents probably just having found their beds only hours ago after two days of stargazing and alcohol. 

Azriel’s normal routine had him heading off to training just as the sun was making its ascent over the horizon. Slow to wake and not really a morning Illyrian, he needed the extra time before leaving to get his mind working in tandem with his body. The effects of a barely cured hangover from two nights ago didn’t help. He allowed his wings a wide spanning stretch to shake off the effects of sleep before taking his usual place at the expansive round table. The shadows ringing his arms and shoulders seemed to follow suit and shake off their own doze and then took a zooming lap through the room. 

Celeste glided easily into the room carrying two steaming mugs, placing one next to his already filled plate at the table. Azirel’s gaze flickered to hers as she settled into the chair beside him. Her perfectly coiffed dark hair twisted into a tight bin at the nape of her neck. His shadows responded to her presence immediately, leaving behind his scarred hands and taking roost along her chair back before slipping down and settling like a fine mist along her shoulders. 

“Busy day?” Azriel questioned over the rim of his steaming mug.

“Mmhm.” Celeste nodded through a bite of eggs quickly swallowing. “Two new mothers to check in on and a surprising number of fairly impressive injuries to assess and redress.” As the official healer of the Night Court after Madja’s retirement not quite a century ago, most of the serious calls fell to Celeste. “Starfall falling on a weekend always adds extra to the schedule. No one can resist an extra day of celebrations.” A small smile lit up her face as she gave a sly sideways glance at his classically beautiful features. 

Azriel’s mind immediately went to their own added day of celebrations. After spending the whole night of Starfall with their family and the usual formal party, he and Celeste had chosen to spend the extra day alone. His own smile slowly crept across his face and a strong hand settled on Celeste’s thigh under the table. The memory of her in that dress a couple nights ago in the forefront of his mind. 

“No, they certainly can’t resist.” A rolling rumble left his throat as he turned back to his breakfast. Yet before he could shovel in the next bite, the sounds of Cassian pounding on the front door vibrated through the space.  

Azriel moved to let him in, giving Celeste’s thigh a gentle squeeze before standing fully. The sight of her in that lovely velvet dress dimmed in his memory, quickly replaced by the memory of her out of that dress. She flashed a sly smirk in return as Azriel’s scent thickened in his wake leaving her with her own memories of this past weekend. The misty shadows swirled around in the space he left behind but did not follow, instead staying behind clinging closely around Celeste. Rising from the table, she began plating up another breakfast for their guest. 

“I still don’t understand why you can’t just let us winnow inside like Rhys does at his townhouse.” Cassian’s griping echoed from the entryway. “Have me standing out there in the cold just waiting like a stray dog.”

Cassian’s mood was no doubt due to his celebratory weekend going awry. Nesta had spent most of the formal Starfall party glaring daggers at him through the crowd. Cas on the other hand spent the evening using poor attempts at humor to right whatever wrong he had committed. Nesta had already filled Celeste in on the details days before regarding the argument that had occurred leading up to the party. 

“Have you ever thought we might not want to be disturbed at all hours, Cassian?” Azriel’s deep voice carried strongly ahead of him before they made their appearance in the dining room.

“Here. Eat.” Celeste commanded as she slid a heaping plate into Cassian’s usual spot at the table. The shadows darted from their perch along her skin and quickly inspected the newcomer. Determining him of no interest they returned. “It will make you less grumpy. It’s far too early for that.”

“Cauldron bless you, Celeste.” he sighed and practically fell into the plate ready to devour it. “Tell that to Nesta,” he grumbled through an already full mouth. “Apparently the House takes her side in all our arguments now. I can’t even get it to conjure a decent meal anymore!”

Azriel rolled his eyes as he settled back to his own plate. Celeste stifled a giggle into her coffee mug at the thought of the House of Wind holding a grudge on Nesta’s behalf and refusing to feed poor Cas. 

“Have you tried apologizing perhaps?” Az drawled.

“I HAVEN’T DONE ANYTHING WRONG!” Cas bellowed in exasperation, rolling his eyes.

“Of course not.” Az’s sarcastic reply echoed from the bottom of his mug as he finished the last dregs of his tea. Celeste wisely kept her mouth shut, lips pressed into a thin line to keep an amused smile from appearing. Of course she had only heard Nesta’s side of the whole scenario, but she did make a compelling argument. And knowing Cassian as well as they all did, it was no stretch of the imagination to believe he could be incredibly dense at times. 

With a quick pause in his ravenous eating Cassian looked up, piercing his brother with a knowing look while making a not so subtle sniff at the air. “What exactly did I interrupt?”

Celeste started back to reality at the question, her mind had already wandered back to what had been brewing before Cassian arrived. Picking up on the tension, the shadows began a cycling track between the spouses. Az’s face snapped to her with a darkened look in his eye instead of returning Cas’s questioning gaze. A single stray wisp curled around his ear seemingly whispering. Whatever the secret entailed brought a flash of brightness to his eyes and a blush of color to his cheeks. 

A similar blush had already bloomed on her own face when a sudden flurry of noise caused Celeste to jump. She evaded answering the question as enchanted slips of paper fluttered to the table in a pile. She quickly gathered them and began to shuffle them into some semblance of order. 

Apparently Cas was only incredibly dense when it came to his mate as he shot out a disgusted noise at the assumed answer to his question. “Ugh. Gross. We eat here you know!”

Az’s stoic face brightened with amusement. “You’re one to talk Cassian,” quickly reminding his brother of his time as Cas’s chaperone in the House of Wind during his courtship with Nesta.

The notes had arrived from one of the enchanted pads of paper Celeste left for her patients and fellow healers. They allowed correspondence during her off hours if the need arose, although there were never truly “off” hours as a healer. She had enchanted them to deposit wherever she was present in order to be reached immediately. 

“Mmm,” she started as she swallowed the last of her bacon and gulped a final sip of coffee. “I should go. One of my new mothers is convinced the babe isn’t feeding enough. She’s panicking a bit being a new mom and all, but I should see her first thing.” Before she could slip past his wings to round behind his chair, Azriel reached out and grabbed her wrist, pulling gently to halt her movement. Reaching out with his other scarred hand he cradled the side of Celeste’s face and tilted his head back, leaning in for a kiss. 

“I’ll see you tonight.” he crooned, pressing another soft kiss to her lips and drawing his thumb behind it, lightly tracing the line of her scar that crossed through her top lip. The raised skin along his fingertips caused a shiver to dance up her back.

“Yeah,” she responded in a whisper before standing upright again. Even after all this time, Azriel’s kiss never failed to leave her a little breathless. “And go easy on him today.” She tilted her head toward Cas across the table with a little smirk before rushing to the entryway for her things. 

“I DIDN’T DO ANYTHING WRONG!” he shouted at her as she pulled the door closed to leave. 

Celeste paused for a moment on the top step to bundle against the cold wind that told her winter wasn't ready to let go just yet. Her hand brushed against the spot on her scar where Azriel had just kissed as she pulled her scarf around her neck. The memory of the lingering touch causing her to smile into its folds. The injury had not always been associated with thoughts of affection. Its origins were brutal and the recovery had been hard. It had taken many years after her escape to even look at herself properly in a mirror again. Over time she had grown to accept her new face. Fleeing her birthplace was the first step in her recovery, but it was the chosen family she had gathered in her new life that had helped heal the scars beyond the physical. 

Thoughts wandering absentmindedly to other scars, she unconsciously stretched the muscles of her back. Two more deep wounds had closed there long ago, their skin rippled and pale, unlike the bright red one on her face. Directly between the shoulder blades, the tight skin eased a bit from the movement and Celeste was reminded of a time when they had ached constantly. It wasn't just from the injury itself but from the absence of their purpose. At one time those muscles had powered an expansive set of feathered wings. A magnificent relic of distant Seraphim ancestors in her bloodline. They had been sandy in color with deep flecks of velvety brown that had once matched her eyes. 

Rolling her shoulders once more, she brushed off the memory of those aches that belonged to another life. Her life before Velaris. The time between then and now had transformed Celeste into a different person, unrecognizable from the scared and trembling thing she had been arriving in a strange new land, similar in ways to her own birthplace but at the same time so very different. She had been born in a land on what the fae of Prythian called the Continent. Settled high up in the northernmost section was a region called Valhallan. Filled with snow capped mountains and harsh, cold winters, much like the ones of Illyria. 

Celeste had had the misfortune of being born into a broken family with no wealth to their name. There had been little time for anything that could bring joy into their household. Celeste’s brother worked into the night most of the time in order to bring in the meager wages to feed them. Her mother was off raising other families' children so that she could provide for her own, which left Celeste alone the majority of the time. With no signs of magical abilities ever developing, Celeste had resigned her days to the domestic chores that kept their household running. By the time she had reached maturity, her mother’s charges had grown up themselves and her brother’s life had been claimed in an accident while working as a bounty hunter. When the chance to leave poverty behind had arisen, Celeste had taken it. 

It wasn’t just the desire for more that had Celeste running from her poverty although it was a considerable factor. She wouldn’t have just jumped into bed with someone for money or else she would have sold her body long before then. It was the desire for love and affection that also drove her decision. And there seemed to be just that in her happenstance romance with Tyrik, at least at first. 

When a respectable looking male Fae had crossed her path in the market one day, she had taken an appreciative glance and carried on. Looking at a handsome male didn’t hurt anyone. Tyrik apparently had other ideas. He was enamored at first sight, weaving through the crowds behind her in order to trail along. Finally approaching her at a market stall he had offered to carry her baskets before insisting on paying for her wares. Celeste had refused politely at first. Then more insistently as Tyrik shoved the coin into the merchant's hands. Tyrik wouldn’t take no as an answer. It was much too late before Celeste realized that Tyrik never took no for an answer.

He had wined and dined her in the days following. He delighted in her astonishment and enjoyment of all the pleasures she could normally never afford. After a whirlwind courtship during his brief stay in Valhallan, Tyrik had insisted on carrying her with him back to his home in the center of the continent. Leaving her mother behind wasn’t easy, but seeing the same opportunity that Celeste did, she had insisted it was for the best and gave her blessings. Over the journey Celeste had convinced herself it was indeed for the best. It wasn’t just about leaving behind her hard life, it was about love too. Of course Tyrik could be pushy. So incredibly pushy, but he had shown her affection and care. She could imagine those feelings blossoming into something deeper over time if she gave it a chance. 

It wasn’t until a couple months after her arrival at his estate that Celeste had realized her mistake. By then it had been too late. She was subjected to his brutality for wrongs he was convinced she had committed – and attempted escape was the ultimate wrong in his eyes. Rumor had it that he had ‘run off’ a number of potential love interests, although where they ran to wasn’t clear. Their whereabouts were never questioned after, no mention of them was ever made. 

Celeste shook off the memories of the past with a shudder, instead choosing to focus on Azriel’s promise of “I’ll see you tonight.” With a small smile she refocused on organizing her thoughts to the hectic day ahead and carried on towards her first patient.

The day passed at a decent pace and progressed productively with no major incidents among her charges. Celeste distractedly rubbed at her temple as she rounded the corner to her final patient. The headache had been building all day and was threatening to reach its boiling point soon. A weekend of strong spirits and little sleep apparently had a longer recovery time than she had remembered in prior times. Before she could glance up to track the path ahead, she inadvertently slammed full bodied into another pedestrian. 

“Oh! Oh gods! I’m so sorry - I wasn’t paying attention. Are you-” Celeste stammered out.

“Ah! Oh-Celeste! Good, I’m glad I caught you.” The figure righted herself into the lithe and willowy healer that she knew as Marin. “I was just hoping to catch you before you trudged all the way up to see Khalen.” Marin tossed her thick, shockingly blond braid over her shoulder as she readjusted her tote and nodded toward the imposing hill ahead of them. “Would hate for you to hike all the way up there just to find out I already saw him.”

Relief washed over Celeste and bloomed evident on her face. “Ah, what a nice surprise Marin, thank you. A good excuse to make an early night of it.” She continued to rub at her temple as a touch of stronger pain radiated down her face. 

“Long weekend huh?” Marin winked and gave Celeste a gentle hip check as she smiled. “I saw you and Az at the party before I had to rush off. I tell you, I wouldn’t mind a male dressed like that keeping me up all night that’s for sure.” 

“Marin!” Celeste cracked a wide radiant smile as she let out a sharp laugh. “It’s not that,” she chuckled, “but two days of drinks, dancing and hardly sleeping isn’t as easy as it used to be.” 

Marin held her suspicious smile. “Yeah, hardly sleeping,” she retorted, winking again. 

Celeste barked out another laugh before wincing in pain at the throb it produced. “Anyway,” she continued. “Thanks again for offering to take my on-call night on Starfall. I owe you.”

“No problem, you know I’ll cash it in sooner than later. My camp rotation is coming up.” All the healers that Celeste managed rotated on a schedule, taking turns with on-call nights and week-long rotations once a month through the Illyrian camps. 

Marin flipped open the top of her canvas tote. “Hey, do you happen to have more of those message pads? I would have written to you but I gave my last one earlier this morning.”

Celeste rummaged in her own bag finding a banded bundle of 3 pads neatly tucked in a pocket, handing them over to Marin and turning to make her way home. “Thanks again, I’ll see you!” she concluded.

Tucking her scarf into her bag as the early spring weather had changed its mind once again, Celeste began the long journey home. Silently she wished for the use of her wings to make the trek quicker. Normally she didn’t mind the walks home. It gave her time to decompress and unwind after long days and enjoy the sights and sounds of the city she had so lovingly called home for so long. Today however the sights and sounds were grating against her already taut nerves caused by this headache. It had now pushed past the boundary of her temples and carried down into her eyes and along her nose. She brushed a cool hand along her brow pressing against the bone for relief, feeling along the rounded edge of her scar as she did. 

She kept her eyes cast downward trying not to catch glances of the sunlight sinking lower in the sky as the light was beginning to send throbs of dull pain through her eyeballs. She was taking quick squints of the path ahead to keep herself from accidentally body slamming someone else when she saw him. Just ahead, leaning sedately against a lamppost, he waited. No longer in his fighting leathers but instead a simple dark shirt and loose pants, wings tucked neatly with one broad shoulder pressed against the post with arms crossed, watching Celeste make her way over the cobblestone. Thin tendrils of shadow swirled low to the ground and snaked out over her boots. 

“Well, if it isn’t my wife.” Az purred lowly. “Lucky meeting you here,” he added, a feline smile spreading across his perfect lips before it hastily dropped and he hurriedly pushed off the post. “Are you okay? What’s wrong?”

His worried eyes followed the movement of Celeste’s hands as she pushed against her brow bone once more and then shielded her eyes from the glaring light behind him trying to peek up at his face. Noting concern, his shadows changed route and slunk up her arms and circled around her neck.

“Just a headache. I’ve had it all day. I think the festivities finally caught up with me.” She tried to flash him a weak smile and ended up wincing instead. This recent burst of pain covered her whole face and made her draw in a sharp breath. 

“Did you take anything?” Azriel’s damaged hands slipped smoothly along Celeste's jaw gently cradling her face. In one smooth movement, he flared out his wings behind him to block out the glaring sun from her face, peering down into her dark eyes, concern pulling down his brow. 

“Yeah, I took something a couple hours ago but it didn’t do much. I think I just need to lie down.” His chilled palms felt almost heavenly against her skin and the errant shadows were now floating along her hairline in a soothing caress. Closing her eyes, she leaned into his touch and savored the small relief. 

“Let’s get you home then.” Az’s hands pulled away, taking their relief with them but the shadows lingered. 

“I know winnowing is faster but could we fly instead?” she requested meekly. Rhys had once described winnowing as just like taking a giant step through darkness. While Celeste had winnowed plenty of times with Az and Rhys, it never felt like a big step to her. It felt a little like dropping too quickly in flight and your stomach flopping and always left her slightly dizzy for a second after, which she was certain her poor head couldn't handle right now. At least not without vomiting.

He nodded solemnly before scooping her up into his arms ready to take flight. The kickoff from the ground rattled her brain painfully and she stifled a paltry cry in her throat before nuzzling against his neck and relishing in the darkness it provided. 

Azriel gently pulled her tighter to his chest and whispered an apology into her hair. He didn’t like seeing her feeling unwell and especially not in pain. Thankfully the instances of Celeste being injured or ill had been few and far between but for her to cry out from a headache he knew the pain must be pretty intense. A seed of worry settled between his ribs. 

Arriving at their modest townhouse Azriel circled the upper balcony along the backside of the house making a slow descent. Easing into a landing he touched down as gently as he could without jostling her. Her head was still buried against his neck, breath warm against his skin. He could feel the rapid exhales coursing over his collarbone. Without a word he carried her into the room they shared through the balcony door and headed toward the bed. 

“Bath now? Or later?” he asked as he sat her on the edge of the luxuriously large bed.

“Now please.” Her eyes were now open but she sat there with her shoulders held stiffly and not making any effort to look up at him. The seed of worry wiggled in a little deeper. 

Az regarded her now with the hardened gaze of a true spymaster. “What else hurts?” His eyes roved over her frame noting any tic or tell and collecting the information. The fist she held gripped in her lap with her thumb tucked between her middle and ring finger gave it away. Her thumb rubbing there always gave away her anxiety, but clenched in her fist meant she was trying to hide something. Pain.

“Celeste. Tell me what hurts.” It wasn’t a request. She heard the soft command of his voice and pulled in a pained breath and held it before releasing it slowly.

“My neck. My head and my neck. It hurts to turn. And it’s so bright in here. Can you close the curtains?” Her brows were pinched as she relayed her answer.

“The bath can wait.” He directed her as he released the shadows in silent command so they could draw the curtains closed. “Lie back. I’ll get you some tea and headache powder.” He moved to help ease her down against the pillows. Grabbing a blanket from the foot of the bed and draping it over her fully, she curled onto her side and squeezed her eyes closed. 

“No. The powder didn’t help earlier. In the bottom of my bag, the green sachet, brew that in the tea. And hand me the bottle of papavera too.”

“Sweetheart, maybe I should call one of the healers.” The worry had escaped into his tone. Azriel had been married to a healer long enough to understand that papavera was a strong choice for pain. He had used it a couple times himself, once being when his wings were shredded in a storm. 

“Selah is on-call. She’s going to tell you the same thing I am. Besides, she was heading to a birth when I saw her this afternoon so I’m sure she’s still there.”

Az liked Selah. She was quiet and contemplative and quick to learn. She had come to a few training sessions with the priestesses before being recruited into being a healer by Celeste. She said she had shown a lot of promise with a natural inclination to healing. Az knew she was competent and trusted her. Knowing that Selah would have done exactly what Celeste was asking still did not settle that seed of worry that was now taking root. He handed her the bottle of tonic without countering her argument before slipping downstairs to brew the tea. 

The effects of the papavera were almost immediate. Slipping into a blissful darkness of sleep Celeste barely registered the dulling ache that was slowly leaving her body. She felt as if she were spinning. Slowly around in not quite a circle. Over the thump of her steady heart she thought she heard music. Not spinning, dancing. 

The music gradually lowered into an easy tempo. Soft and low against the backdrop of chatter and glasses inside. The band was seated just to the left outside the open double doors leading to the dining room of the House of Wind. 

“Care to dance Shadowsinger?” she murmured, leaning her head back and settling into his chest. Azriel was pressed up against her back, hands making lazy, idle circles along her hips as they both leaned up against the railing on the neighboring balcony. His attention was fixed up in the twilight sky, watching the hundreds of flaming bright stars sweep across the expanse. 

“With you?” He brought his gaze to meet hers tortuously slowly. Meeting her line of sight she swore she saw the reflection of the shooting stars twinkling back at her. “Always.”

She spun in his grasp to face him. One of his siphoned hands laid her delicate fingers over where his shoulder met his chest and then with a smooth caress, slid to the small of her back. With his other hand he slipped her remaining palm into his. 

He beamed down at her hand in his, admiring the matching blue gem she had fashioned to fit the back of her own hand. “That really was a nice touch,” he added modestly, watching the glowing flicker inside. She knew he was being a bit reserved in saying that, but then again that's just the way Azriel was. Reserved. She had seen the gleam of silver tears lining his eyelashes when she made her appearance for the first time to him at the start of the party. She knew what it really meant to him even if he couldn’t quite say it. 

Celeste had planned this dress nearly all year. She had worked diligently with an associate of Amren’s agonizing over the stones cut and color to perfectly match the siphons Azriel normally wore. Each one, all seven, had been carefully measured and set to match exactly. The one on her chest she had settled right on the neckline of the low cut front so it lay perfectly between her breasts along her sternum. Along her shoulders she had them strung on velvet cording to match the dress and hung delicately in the opening of her split sleeves. The same cording threaded through her fingers and tied to a velvet band around her wrist to affix the gemmed siphons on the back of her hands. But the most scandalous of all were the garters she had specially made to hold the brilliant blue stones securely above her knees. Feyre had debated with her whether cutting the hemline short enough to make them visible was entirely appropriate for such a formal party. The hemmed edge grazed just barely to the middle of her bountiful thighs making it nearly impossible to bend at the waist without losing coverage over her backside. After trying on the sample, Nesta and Mor sided with Celeste.

“It’s daring. I love it.” Mor had exclaimed excitedly. “Wear it!”

Nesta had laughed with a sparkling glint in her eye at the first look. “Oh yes. Absolutely. Az is going to combust when he sees you in this.”

And he very nearly did. Celeste had insisted she wanted to get ready in the House of Wind with Nesta and her sisters and told Azriel she would meet him there. They timed their entrance perfectly with the first swings of the party ramping up. As she descended the stairs alone after Nesta and the others had gathered at the bottom, she caught sight of him. His shadows reacted first, racing up the marble steps nearly creating a cyclone around her feet and then zooming between each siphon almost as if inspecting their authenticity. He barely took any notice of them as they returned back to his side, ever loyal, and began whispering around his neck and ears. 

Azriel’s glare darkened as he took her in, his mouth popped slightly open. She could almost feel the heat burning each body part as he raked his vision from one siphon to the next making his way down her curves. Catching sight of the blue jewels tapping lightly against her knees with each step she could almost predict his growling request of ‘Keep those on later.’

Reaching the bottom landing she stood before him at a distance to allow him to take it in further from a closer angle. 

“Celeste, sweetheart” he said roughly. “You look — stunning.” The words were having a hard time finding purchase in his brain as he stumbled along. “Did — did you make this?”

“With some help.” She beamed up at him, noticing the moisture gathered on his lashes and watching him swallow slowly. “It’s not every day you get to have your 100th Starfall with your husband. I figured a memorable year needed a memorable dress.” 

A wide smile crept across his face. “Memorable indeed.” He paused, taking her hand in his and looking over the whole outfit again. Pulling her into his body he murmured through her loose curls into her ear. “Wear it again. Wear it every year. But especially tonight.” She shivered against his hold at his words, scenting night air and fresh cedar rolling off of him.

“There’s one more thing.” Celeste brightened with anticipation. Leaning back in his grip she rapped a gentle tap to the siphon at her breast and studied Azriel’s face as he watched with rapt attention. Slowly the center began to glow a brilliant blue, casting the light over his own outfit. The other gems quickly followed suit until they all carried a gentle flicker of blue light inside them. “They will respond to your touch too,” she added.

Eyes widening with rapture and delight, Azriel threw his head back and laughed a deep full laugh. The sound captured her breath and she stole away the memory to replay later. His laugh was one of the most magnificent things she could ever hear and she never got enough of it.

“Oh, that's brilliant!” Cassian howled, tossing his head back in laughter too. He and Nesta were standing off to the side taking in the show along with the rest of the family. 

Nesta, with a proud warmth on her face, met Celeste’s eye with a knowing look. “I told you.” 

Celeste let out her own burst of laughter. 

Centering herself back into Az’s embrace she peered up into his eyes again. Without another word he moved swiftly to graze his lips against hers, only a slight hesitation before he sank in for a lingering kiss. 

The music was only just a throbbing ebb in the background now. Unable to make sense of the notes anymore, Celeste tried to concentrate on them harder, willing them to take shape into song again. One, two, three beats later she lost them completely until they were just replaced by the steady  thrum of her own heartbeat in her head. Her head. 

Oh yeah, my head. It doesn’t hurt anymore.

She peeled her eyes open carefully expecting the light of morning to assault her senses, but was met with only gray dusk — and shadows. Swirling around her head and spinning through her vision. Their quick movement quickly corrected her earlier thoughts. Her head did still hurt but not as badly. Hesitant to make a move just yet she scanned the bedside to find Azriel lounging back a tufted chair, his long muscular legs propped up and crossed on the ottoman, elbow propped on the arm with his head leaning against his fist. His wings spilled gracefully over the low back of the chair and Celeste had an urge to drag the pads of her fingers across their webbing. He was reading reports of some kind as she studied his face in the deepening twilight before he became aware of her consciousness. 

“Did you know you have really nice lips?” Her voice croaked with sleep as she brought her fingers to her own lips still feeling the lingering memory there.

His head jerked up at the sound of her voice and in the instant it took for him to register her words his eyes brightened and he tossed out a laugh. The sound echoed through Celeste’s head in tandem with what she recollected from her dream. 

“I’ve had a few compliments on them,” he responded smoothly. Bringing his feet to the floor and righting himself, he searched her face for signs of distress. “Feeling better?��

Even though she heard his question she remained silent for a moment. His laugh just now and the one from her dream squeezed at her heart in echo and she mentally squirreled them away deep into the recesses of her mind to savor later. The sound of his joy was something she never tired of.

“You have a nice laugh too,” she said wistfully, her voice croaking once more. 

A lopsided smile hung on his face, reaching his eyes and causing them to wrinkle a bit. “Are you feeling better?” he asked genuinely.

“A little. Yeah. It’s not as bad but it still hurts some.”

He shifted his body, easing himself on the edge of the bed by her knees, pulling his wings into a tight tuck so as not to hit her. “Drink this.” A mug balanced in his wide, textured palm with the handle facing toward her. Celeste shifted and slowly pulled herself to sitting, Azriel’s free hand steadying her with a grip to her upper arm. Settling back against the headboard she claimed the mug with both hands, soaking its warmth into her palms. She sipped the scalding liquid slowly, Az watching every swallow. Unease furrowed his brow as he watched her face pinch and he laid the back of his hand to her forehead feeling for a fever. The shadows bled off his skin and furiously began circling around her face and through her hair.

“I’m fine, really Az. This stuff just tastes awful.” She forced down another large gulp of the drink, knowing it would only taste worse as it cooled. She hoped that this, along with the earlier dose of papavera would knock out the pain that was lingering. Not nearly as pervading as it was before but the pain still pulsed along the bridge of her nose and along her eyebrows. “But can you rein these things in a bit,” she gestured toward the still circling shadows. “They’re making me dizzy.”

Azriel pulled on whatever source of power commanded them and a small trickle returned to his skin. The rest had slowed their circuit but still continued around and around. Narrowing his eyes he attempted again without success. A look of contemplation tightened his features as he reached out toward Celeste. 

“I don’t have a fever Az,” she moved to lean away. “I told you I feel a lot better.” 

“What you actually said was ‘a little’,” he said neutrally, grasping her shoulder to still her. Cupping his hand in front of her face, he placed the side of his palm to her forehead and gathered the misty filaments like dipping a cup into a river. They collected there as they collided with his palm, seemingly reluctant to disobey again. As he pulled away and they slithered back to their master’s arms, one single tendril snaked out from Celeste’s hairline and lazily floated in the space between them. 

Celeste snorted a laugh. “They don’t listen very well do they?”

“No. They don’t.” Az replied distractedly. He scrutinized the errant shadow with a withering look. Halting its lazy drift through the air between them it then returned towards Celeste’s face. Ever so slowly it grazed her forehead again and then quickly shot down the full path of her scar before zipping back to Azriel.

She hissed a sharp inhale through her teeth as she clutched at her face. “Ow! What the hell was that?! What did you do?”

Az made to grab her wrist to pull it away from her face intent on inspecting the damage. “That wasn’t me.”

 As she pulled her own hands from her face he saw nothing amiss. The same bright red, smooth scar in the same state it had always been. Suddenly, that wayward wisp curled around his ear and Azriel’s face shifted to darkened surprise. Celeste wasn’t paying either of them any attention as she ran her finger along the length of her past injury and inspected her hand.

Celeste was now the subject of his scrutiny. He didn’t fully understand the meaning of the shadows message, it spoke not in a true language but more in the way of feelings and intuitions and very occasionally images. Over the centuries he had come to be fluent in the emotions they used most often, especially when it came to his loved ones. But this shadow’s message was too complex without words. It felt like a warning but of what he didn’t know. He held his searing stare as he sat still as stone.

“I think I’d like that bath now,” Celeste tossed the blanket away from her legs and poked at Azriel’s back with her toes. “Scooch.” 

Rising from the bed and turning to assist her, he grabbed her elbow for support as she shimmied off the side of the bed. 

“I told you, I’m fine.” A smile tugging at the corners of her mouth but accepting the help anyway. Her bare feet hit the cool wood and as she unfolded herself to stand, the floor seemed to tilt sharply to the right, her body correcting the shift by careening to the left. Az clamped down on the grip he had of her elbow and encircled her waist with his free arm, wings flaring out to balance them both. 

“Yeah,” he huffed out. “So you said.” Before she could test her balance again, his arm slipped up from her waist and he bent to scoop behind her knees, carrying her into the ample washroom and setting her gingerly to sit on the wide rim of the tub. 

“Stay,” he commanded as he leaned over to turn the taps.

“Yes sir,” she giggled. 

“I’m glad you find this amusing,” he retorted with stone faced seriousness. He tested the water temperature before closing the drain and held up two bottles of bath oil for her to select. 

“You,” she tapped the spearmint one with her nail. “I find you amusing.” She began shedding her clothing from her seated position as he added the oil to the filling tub. Once fully undressed she remained perched on the tub edge and craned her neck back to look into Azriel’s face. “I’m fine.” 

He arched his brow and twisted his mouth into a disbelieving look. “So you said.” 

Wrapping her arms around his waist and leaning her cheek against his middle, she inhaled the scent of spearmint as the vapors filled the room. His hands wandered to the sides of her neck, thumbs swiping gently in an arch along her jaw. Ever so gently he began locating the hair pins in her bun at the nape of her neck, nimbly pulling them out one by one. As her hair unraveled, he gathered it in his palm before letting it unfurl down her back. Celeste shivered and made a hum of contentment in her throat. Her dark tresses skimmed the skin at the very bottom of her ribcage. 

“Will you braid it for me?” she tugged at his shirt, untucking one corner, and pressed her lips to the skin just above his waistband. “I don’t feel like washing it tonight. Too much work.” 

He didn’t answer because she knew she didn’t really have to ask. He always braided her hair for her. Noticing the tub was full he leaned sideways, her arms still encircling his waist, and turned off the taps. “C’mon. In,” he said as he untangled himself from her grasp and bent to lift her again. 

“Join me?” she questioned, desire brightening her eyes. 

Azriel lowered her into the steaming water, shadows spreading over the surface like an oil slick. She made another low sound in her throat at the heat enveloping her body. “Please?” 

Now fully seated in the tub she had hooked one finger through the opening between the buttons on his shirt and began unfastening them. 

Az softly stilled her hands with one of his own. “Lay back. Relax. Let me take care of you.” He had gathered her hair in his other hand, holding it above the water and as she laid back he flipped it over the back of the tub. 

“Did you know endorphins are a natural pain reliever?” she quipped, head tilted back against the tub with eyes closed. “You’d be doing me a favor.”

Settling himself on the stool he had grabbed from the vanity, he released a deep rumble of a laugh. The sound caused a broad smile to erupt on Celeste’s face. 

“You have a nice laugh,” she said wistfully, popping open her eyes to meet his sultry hazel ones above her. 

He leaned over her, releasing her hair from his hands and bringing them up to massage her temples. He rested his lips against her forehead and planted a tender kiss. “So you said,” he whispered. 

Following his request to relax, Celeste melted deeper into the tub. She let the warmth of the water ease her aches and lull her into a doze. Azriel had begun brushing through her hair, sending delicious chills over her skin. 

“Not too tight,” she requested as he started to gather her locks into three bundles, her eyes still closed. “It makes it hard to sleep.”

She felt his hands pause for just a fraction too long. He knew what she said wasn’t true. Out of the thousands of times he had braided her hair over the years, tight or not, he had never known her to lose sleep over it. Celeste could practically feel the concern seeping into her scalp. 

“I’m fine,” she said, her voice as limp as her body felt. He didn’t acknowledge her statement, working slowly and smoothly at plaiting her hair, having already decided to get one of the other healers to drop in. 

Taglist - @mybestfriendmademe @lilah-asteria @chairofchaos

@weekendlusting @pit-and-the-pen @sarawritestories

[axelsagewrites]

Being in a Secret Relationship with Aegon

Pairing: Aegon x Servant Reader

Warnings: mentions of sex but no smut

Word count: 804

Masterlist Here

It starts with you being one of his servants

He was used to them avoiding his gaze, but he liked how it didn’t faze you

It was a comfortable silence between you both as he worked

And of course, he thought you were hot but didn’t want to say and risk you switching duties

However, when he found out it was you placing a jug of water beside his bedside and herbal tea each morning to help with his hangovers, he began requesting you specifically

Aegon got so used to your presence that eventually you began to talk

One night he got drunk and confided in you about his trauma

The next day he thought you definitely wouldn’t come back but you did

This time with lemon cakes for him without saying a word

That’s when he fully began to trust you

Aegon started to send for you to change his already fresh sheets and would have you just sit and chat

Other times when you came to do actual tasks like mop his floor, he would insist you rest in a chair while he mopped instead

He tried to shower you with elaborate gifts, but you turned him down since the other servants would surely notice

Instead, he began to set up mini feasts for you in his room so you could taste the finest foods and wines

You began to bring him roses from the garden or bracelets braided from scraps of fabric or hand embroidered napkins

He would sneak out to the silk streets but not to drink but take you on semi dates

He would take you to taverns or inns so that for at least a few hours you could feel normal

His drinking also severely lessened after your relationship began as instead of drinking his problems away, he was now talking about them

Any problems you had he did his best to solve as soon as he could

Another servant giving you issues? Claimed she stole something and got her fired. Saw a knight acting creepy towards you? Insist he got transferred elsewhere. Your clothes were getting tattered? Orders you whatever you request to replace it

Sure, sometimes he could be extreme, but he insisted you deserved the best

He started waking up earlier in the mornings so you could share breakfast before the day began

Now he can’t sleep unless he can see you before bed

Whenever he can he squeezes in a quick hug or kiss

“Just one more kiss I promise, please”

“You can’t leave me without a hug”

Even when you’re five feet away he misses you since he can’t just walk up and kiss you when he liked

This meant your private time was savoured by Aegon

As time went on you began to take more risks

Shared conversations turned to cuddling in his bed and playing with his hair

One night you both accidentally fell asleep and didn’t realise till the next morning

“Shit! Aegon get up its morning fuck,”

“Hey it’s okay- “

“What if someone finds me- “

Hearing the door begin to unlatch and quickly flinging yourself under the bed just before Alicent gets in

She knows something is up by her sons lack of whoring but doesn’t want to ruin a good thing

Speaking of whoring yous actually didn’t get physical for quite some time to start but once you did it was fucking like bunnies

The sex was very different than any of his silk streets adventures however and it only deepened his trust in you

It also meant Aegon would insist you sleep over whenever you could so he could cuddle into you when it was done

He loves getting cuddles in whenever he can

He would tell you of the dates he would take you on if everything was different

He also seriously considers getting on the back of Sunfyre and flying away with you

One day while you and Aegon are cuddled asleep in bed Alicent walks in and sees but she decides its better this way seeing the positive change in Aegon

Little does she know you were now actually hatching a plan to run away together with Aegon

When his father dies, he quickly goes to you, and you catch the next ship leaving the dock with a bag you’ve both had packed for weeks

You both sail for Dragonstone where he tells Rhaenyra of their fathers’ deaths which Alicent had kept a secret until they could crown Aegon

Unfortunately for her Aegon decided to swear fidelity on one condition; she give you a title and official court position

She does

It takes less than a few hours for Aegon to make all the necessary preparation for you to be married on Dragonstone

I suppose the relationship didn’t stay secret for very long

Taglist: @clairacassidy

[creedslove]

DESERVE IT - PART FOURTEEN

Javier Peña x f!reader

Summary: Dinner goes wrong when Murphy can't control his anger over Javi's association with Los Pepes and uses you as a way to offend him. Javier isn't pleased and ends up taking out on you

Warnings: incorrect narcos plot, angst, hurt, offense, asshole!steve murphy, asshole!javier peña, mentions of break up, insinuations of cheating, smut, oral sex (f!receiving)

A/N: Hi besties, I hope you will like this chapter. I don't know how I feel about it, I liked some parts and hated other parts, but I feel it was necessary to the story and well asshole!javi is back, so enjoy!!! 🥺

• PART ONE TO THIRTEEN ON MY MASTERLIST

5k words

Olivia chewed her food slowly, her content face as she savored the mashed potatoes and well-cooked veggies and very so often shot you and Javi adorable little smiles. She was an adorable child, eating her own food which you also prepared, while the adults enjoyed their Italian and the bottles of wine.

You had already finished one with Connie before the boys arrived, so you really knew you should stop yourself right there. You definitely didn't want to wake up vomiting all your way to work, you were definitely not ready to have Javier holding your hair back while you emptied your stomach in front of him. You knew he would do it without complaining, just as you would do it for him if he ever needed it, but you got really embarrassed at the thought of it. It wasn't a very sexy image. You were also in no mood to face any pregnancy jokes, because it seemed women were only designed to have one condition which implied growing a child in their womb, especially at your work environment where it was dominated mostly by men and their narrow points of view or women like Colleen who would love to overhear a juicy gossip and spread it through the country even if it had no proof of it being real.

And the third reason was because death would probably be sweeter than facing a hangover in the Colombian heat.

So when Murphy offered you another glass, you politely declined, helping yourself to another slice of lasagna, hoping you could filter the alcohol in your blood by putting something in your stomach.

He shot a glance and raised the bottle at Javi who also shook his head, which you thought was odd. Javier Peña never refused a chance to get intoxicated in alcohol.

You went back to focusing on Connie's story, though Javier's hand was restless on your thigh. That wasn't common of him either. Of course he had the habit of touching you, but he usually just rested his hand on your skin, however, you could feel how he squeezed your thigh softly, you didn't mind it at all, but you knew him enough to tell it wasn't normal. There was something bothering him, but not only him, Steve was also bothered, angry even, as he very often made snarky remarks towards your boyfriend. It wasn't unusual for the two agents to have conflicts concerning work, both of them were stubborn as a mule and if they didn't agree on something, things could get bad between them, but at the same time, they always managed to leave their work beefs at work, so whatever happened must've really angered Steve.

Javi took a deep breath, side glancing at you as you ate. He was hoping you would be satisfied enough so he could come up with any excuse to go home, at the same time he didn't want to rush you, it wasn't your fault he was a dumbass who only took bad decisions in life, well, not only bad ones, you were the living proof Javier could get some things right, but other than you, the rest was just a long shot.

When Steve mentioned something about work, Javi began to restlessly trace patterns on your skin. It was as if he had gotten into a nervous state, though you didn't get what exactly happened, it was like the two of them had an inside joke going on, one that was not funny at all.

You then remembered your interaction earlier that morning, when you put on his shirt and Javi had told you he was going to wear that during his meeting with Messina and you immediately relaxed at the same time you felt your cheeks and the tips of your ears heating up at the immediate memory that flooded you of what came after he had mentioned the shirt. The way he'd gripped your neck, touched you and filled you up with every inch of himself. It felt like you had been lost in paradise. Also, it became a fair assumption the discomfort between the two agents was their boss's doing. She must have been feral on them during their meeting and Murphy probably blamed it on Javier, or Javier blamed it on Murphy like they usually did.

The tension you felt dissolved completely and you actually enjoyed your boyfriend's little touches under the table, they weren't erotic, - Javier wouldn't do that. Yes, he was the kind of guy who would definitely finger you under the table in a crowded place, but no, he would never even consider doing that if there were any kids nearby. But the touches were intimate, affectionate. You bit your lips, pretending you were listening to every single sentence in that conversation, but in reality you were trying to distinguish what exactly Javier's finger was invisibly drawing on your skin, you could feel steady lines, following a rhythm order and you couldn't help but smile big when you finally broke the code.

P

E

Ñ

A

That's what his fingers traced on your thigh.

It was so silly and childish, and yet a sweet reminder of your relationship. He marked you as his even unconsciously. You couldn't lie at all, it felt pretty good.

Olivia yawned big and felt her little eyes closing on their own as sleep became so intense she couldn't keep her little head from hanging low. Connie chuckled as she noticed her daughter being so sleepy and immediately got up, picking her up gently and disappearing into one of the rooms of the apartment.

Murphy took the opportunity his wife and daughter weren't in the room any longer and smirked as he raised yet another glass of wine towards you before killing it in one sip.

"So, Y/N… you and Javi are a thing, for real now, huh? Remember just how a few months ago he was a real dick to you? He treated you like absolute shit and even fucked a hooker that looked just like you, or so I heard…" he laughed softly "good thing you are a real sweet thing and you can overcome those ups and downs in your relationship, because trust me, sweetie, I'll really need this resilience"

Just as shock was everything that went through your body, anger was the only thing that ran through Javier's veins. You both could tell Steve was drunk from the amount of wine he'd had, but he should've known better than to bring shit up like that. It was none of his business, and still quite of a gray area for the two of you as you had pretty much ignored it and pretended it never happened, when in reality you just hoped everyone else would do the same. It had already been pretty humiliating and painful as it was and you definitely didn't need anyone, let alone Steve bringing that up.

Javier slammed his hands on the table, immediately getting up and pointing a finger at Steve's temporary madness. It was one thing if he was pissed off at him. If he wanted to punch Javier in the face he could even do it and Javi would definitely not give two shits about it, but teasing you and bringing you into that situation, that was too much for him.

"Shut the fuck up right now, Steve. Why are you even saying shit like that? I made a lot of mistakes but this is none of your fucking business, I don't talk about your personal life, so why are you doing this to us? To her?" He pointed at you, as you kept your head low, you felt so ashamed at that moment, still clueless to why such thing had been brought up like that, but Steve didn't care at all.

"Sorry Y/N, didn't mean to embarrass you, but I was also wondering if you know your wonderful boyfriend is being threatened by the head of the Los Pepes death squad? Do you know she has promised to end his career in the DEA by going to the american press?" He asked "can you believe that?"

You didn't say anything at the same time Javier's voice filled the room initiating an argument with Steve, hoping he would stop talking.

"Here's a great idea, Jav… instead of jeopardizing our entire mission, you could give in to your impulses and fuck Judy, maybe it will help us all… I'm sure Y/N wouldn't mind, deep down she knows she can't expect much from you… or maybe she would understand perfectly, I'm sure she would take this bullet for the team"

You didn't know why Steve was acting that way, why he was suddenly so angry, you could understand his frustration, of course but it didn't explain why he decided to use you as a target to hit Javier. He could have just talked about his posture as a cop, insist on argumenting how wrong associating with that squad was, but using personal elements to provoke Javier was too much.

"Why are you doing this Steve?" You finally raised your head and stared at him, your cheeks already wet with tears you couldn't control at the anger and shame of being treated that way by someone you thought was your friend.

You could have raised your voice, defended Javier, defended your relationship with him, but you felt so weak and small at that moment, as if you were just a stupid little girl who fell for the Romeo's cheap tricks. You knew you couldn't let Javier's past intrude your relationship, he had changed, he wasn't that jerk anymore, he was a good man, actually he had always been a good man but he didn't believe in himself. You believed in him and that made him believe as well, and that was why your relationship was working so perfectly, but no one, and especially no one you considered a friend had the right to bring those things up. It was mean, hurtful and you felt you couldn't stay there any longer. If Murphy had a problem with Javier, he should solve it with him, and not drag you into the eye of the storm.

You got up and grabbed your coat, walking to the door at the same time Connie returned from the room and watched the warzone her dining room became. She didn't understand why Javier was screaming at Steve at the same time her husband pointed at you and mumbled something she couldn't actually understand and you cried, but she knew it wasn't good.

She called your name, trying to make you stop, wanting to talk to you and ask you what was going on, but you turned your back to everyone and walked away, running downstairs and locking yourself up in your apartment.

Javier on the other hand was livid, he wanted nothing more than throw punches at Steve, he didn't understand where that attack came from, Javi knew he had all the right to be pissed at the Los Pepes association but that should have been handled in the office and not during a double dinner date, and not by attacking and teasing his girlfriend. Javi also knew it was the only way he would get a reaction from him. If Steve had said anything about Javier, he would have probably shrugged it off, but the moment he brought you into the deal then Javi got angry. To the point he didn't know any better and finally punched his friend, feeling Murphy's face under his fist and blood immediately soaking his pained knuckles. He didn't want things to go like that, but it was partially if not mostly Steve's fault for acting like a dick around them all.

Murphy immediately fought back, throwing a punch at Javi, who groaned and was ready to get back at the other man once more if it weren't for Connie screaming for them to stop. She was terrified, in all the years they'd been together, she'd never seen her husband act like that and especially not towards his partner.

She desperately asked them to stop, but Steve seemed to only had fallen back into his senses when Olivia also screamed in fear, so scared at the commotion happening in the living room and snapping her away from her sweet dreams.

Murphy finally stopped and looked at his wife's shocked face, then looked back at Peña, who was panting and wiping the sweat off his face.

"See the shit you did, Javier? You can never do anything right!" He said angrily and paced the living room, "my daughter's crying now, scared because of your fucking scene!!! Not that you understand what that means, because you are never gonna have that, Javier. Never! You'll screw up just like you did with your job, I don't even know why you still try it!"

•••

Javier immediately left the apartment and ran downstairs, the whole environment was suffocating him, but not as much as Steve's words. He knew people didn't take him seriously, not his friends, not his partners at work, not his hometown and not even his dad. And he never really cared about it, or the part of him that actually cared was long gone and buried. It was easier to handle things that way, Javier taught himself.

But lately he had learned to trust a little more in himself, because you had faith in him, you were the only good thing he had in life and he hated himself to be brutally reminded he didn't deserve you like that, he hated how you left the room crying, disappointment after disappointment. Of course to some extent blaming it on Steve was the logical attitude, but if it weren't for himself, there would be nothing Steve could have used against you. He had done all those things, he had humiliated you with a fucking prostitute, not only that, one that looked just like you, it was disgusting and low, and he honestly didn't know why or how you had forgiven him.

Even if the whole death squad drama didn't happen, you would still have to face shame for the rest of your life just because of the mere fact of being with him. It didn't matter where you went, if it was Colombia or Laredo, people would always point fingers at you, whispering and laughing at the fact you chose Javier Peña.

He wanted to disappear at that moment, it weighed so heavy in his chest, he felt so guilty and ashamed of himself.

At the same time he needed to see you, he wanted to avoid you. He hoped you weren't so upset, so broken at what happened, you were such a strong girl, but even he could tell Steve stroked a delicate point.

He stood in front of his apartment and opened the door, walking inside and calling your name, having no answer and swallowing hard, as he knew instantly you were back at your place. He ran his hand through his hair and sighed deeply, a bad feeling taking over him as his heart raced at the absence of you.

He turned around and went for your apartment instead, an anger filling his body, running through his veins. He knew he couldn't just aim his anger with Steve at you nor his self-hatred, but god, it made his blood boil not to find you there. All that talk about love, partnership and understanding just went to shit because of Steve's tantrum?

He didn't knock, instead he used his own key and burst the door open, making you jump off the couch startled. You sniffed as your eyes were red and puffy, being obvious you'd been crying for the past half an hour.

You looked at him, not liking how dark his expression was, he wasn't looking at you with soft, loving eyes, you could see the burning rage and you didn't know what else had happened, but you trusted he wasn't going to be childish and take it on you.

"What now?" He asked and folded his arms "is it because of Judy and her threats? Or is it still because of the hooker?" He asked annoyed and looked at you up and down. He was just so angry, at any other time, he would have wrapped his arms around your body, pulled you closer and made you forget all about what was hurting you, but at that moment, Javier's feelings were a turmoil and he couldn't control them.

You dried your tears and walked to him "why are you being so rude? It's not my fault" you said and stared at him, why Javier was snapping like that was beyond you.

Javier scoffed and shook his head "I'm not being rude, I just asked you a question, are you gonna cry about that too, Y/N? I thought all that talk about forgiving and believing I was a better man was real, but every single time something about my past comes up you're gonna cry like that?" He was visibly impatient at the same time he was willing to give everything in order to shut himself up before he could screw things up.

You frowned and shook your head "yeah, I meant all that when I said I believed you, and that I trusted you could be a better man, Javi… you are a good man" you said "but this is not the way of talking to me, it hurts Javi… I don't hold it against you, but it does hurt… it is something you did to hurt my feelings and you knew it… and now with Los Pepes… you are in danger, your career Javi… what if they try to kill you?" You blinked some more tears, but his expression was indecipherable.

He scoffed again and looked at you

"It doesn't make any sense, there's nothing any of us can do about it, cariño. I've always been a bad guy, too bad you couldn't see it, or you saw it and that was why you liked it so much"

Come on, Javier, don't say it.

He begged himself and bit his lower lip softly

"I don't think this will work, Y/N…"

You shook your head and took a step closer to Javier, he couldn't just regress to what he was before, no, you two had made such progress, you were so in love with each other, he couldn't just do what you thought he was about to.

"What are you talking about, Javi? It is working between us" you said as your breath accelerated and the blood in your ears almost made it hard for you to hear.

"It is working, but it's not gonna work in the long run Y/N"

"Are you breaking up with me?" Your voice cracked as you stared into his eyes.

No, never. He thought. He couldn't hold himself back now, he had made so much progress he was just so happy, he just wanted to fall on his knees and show you he was yours and only yours. But he didn't.

"Fuck this"

He said and turned around, walking out the door.

•••

You didn't keep track of how long you were crying by yourself. You couldn't believe and wrap your head around what happened. Just as you had got Javi, you had made plans with him, you had envisioned and fantasized a life of happiness and love with him, moving into his ranch, living your life next to him, maybe getting married one day and even maybe bringing a baby into the picture, all of that, it seemed so real to you and just like that he walked away from you.

Anyone could see it coming, but you couldn't, because they didn't know Javi the way you did, they didn't love him the way you did and they didn't know he loved you the way you did. He was so affectionate, so in love, always in need of touching and feeling you next to himself, he couldn't just walk away from you. Yeah, what had happened was bad, but all the path you walked together couldn't be undone just by one simple occasion. Steve's words couldn't be that powerful, could they? Or Javi wouldn't just break your heart with that stupid excuse of keeping you safe or because he knew you deserved better. That grew old, you didn't buy anymore. One part of you didn't believe your Javi, your lovely handsome boyfriend would ever do that, but on the other hand that was exactly what it looked like. He had just walked away with no further explanation.

You felt so lost, so alone as if the ground had disappeared off your feet and you desperately needed to find a grip back to reality. The beautiful moment you lived with him couldn't be over just yet, you couldn't accept that was ever all you would get of him because the cold truth snapped you away from the fairytale you lived for the past two months.

Those two months of pure happiness and bliss, of affection and amazing sex couldn't be the only thing to your relationship with Javi, because you were certain those two months would ruin the rest of your life, you would never be able to be happy again.

You desperately felt the need of being close to him, even if he had just left you wanted to feel his warmth, his embrace, smell his cologne, you wanted to cup his cheeks and make sure he was real, he was still yours.

So you didn't think twice before walking into his apartment. It was where you were supposed to be sleeping, where you should be tangling yourself into his body in bed, naked, rapid breathing and rhythm moves bringing the two of you to the bliss you craved so much with your man. Everything about that place hurt when you stepped inside. It had become so cozy, your true home, more than your own apartment and yet, the desperate possibility of not having free access to it every single day just made your heart tighten in your chest.

You didn't know where Javi went, a teeny tiny little part of your brain tried haunting you, planting the jealousy and anxiety seed, reminding you of all the shady sketchy places he often went to to pick up women before getting with you, but you quickly dismissed it. You had hopes it wasn't nothing but a misunderstanding, and even if it weren't, you thought Javier was better than that. Chances were he just went out to some bar to get drunk and forget that night ever existed, and it was what you should do too. If he had the right to low-key break up with you and go get drunk, then you also had the right to forget.

With the exception you we're already tipsy from all the wine you had had earlier, before everything went to shit, and that you were in Colombia and that was definitely not a safe place for a woman to walk alone at night.

Also, the fact you weren't a DEA agent carrying a gun for protection weighed on it.

A gun.

A gut feeling told you to immediately look for Javi's badge and gun, if he had left them at home, it meant he left for a bar or somewhere else, though you really didn't want to even think of that hypothesis.

You shook your head and got off his bed, going to the safe place he kept them both and opened it, finding it completely empty.

Your mouth went completely dry.

He had taken his gun and that could only mean problem.

When Javier drove back home he wanted to punch and kick himself for being that stupid. He couldn't even begin to explain to himself all the things he did wrong. Was it jeopardizing a whole investigation by allowing a death squad to finish the enemies they had in common? Was it letting his temper get in the way of his friendship? Yeah, Steve was a douche and he deserved that punch, not only for himself but for embarrassing you like that. As Javi had thought over and over: Steve could have talked about anything about Javier, but not about you. Not when you were so good to them, not when you were his girlfriend and Steve's friend. It was mean, cruel even and also a cowardly move coming from him. But now, thinking clearer, Javier knew he could have handled things better, maybe he could have just left and let the soberness of morning light handle the situation better. It would've been wiser to do that.

But out of all the bad things Javier did that night, definitely his attempt of pushing you away was the cherry on top of the cake.

He didn't know what had got into him, the whole situation led him to an unbelievable anger, one he should have aimed at anyone but you, because you were the only good thing in his life, you were the one who made it all worth it, you were the one he loved and wanted to have a future with.

And yet, he acted like a real bastard. He purposely hurt you, he left you in the dark and now he was terrified you had taken things to the letter, he just didn't know what he was going to do if you walked out of his life. If you did it, he would deserve it, but he was sure he would die.

Javi parked and got out of the car, his head pounding at the adrenaline and the booze, the punch, the stress and the fear of being alone. He sighed, he shouldn't have done any of the things he did that night, especially not after he grabbed his gun and left, but he saw no other way out. Javier took a look at your apartment door, you were probably there, asleep or crying yourself to sleep, as everything was dark and silent, so he just entered his place, knowing it would be just as dark and empty as it was the first day he moved in.

And you were there.

You were there as if nothing had happened, as if you hadn't been treated like shit by Steve first and then by Javier himself. He just couldn't believe it.

"Y/N…" he whispered and walked to you, seeing your puffy eyes, the tears caused by him, still present. You were still wearing the same dress as earlier, and god, you looked gorgeous, he wished he had told you before. When you were still having dinner with your friends, when he had his hand on your thigh, tracing his own name on your skin.

You didn't move, as you watched him walk towards you, you didn't see the storm in his eyes anymore, but you didn't see the joy in them, they were empty, sad… red.. was Javier tearing up? No, you must've been seeing things, you had never seen Javi cry.

Suddenly, he felt a wave of disappointment in himself, he knew what that scene looked like, even if he still carried his badge and gun, anyone who'd met him before would've guess he had taken a quick trip to a brothel and he felt ashamed of that, of himself and the fact people would always either laugh at you or would pity you for it.

"You're probably thinking I went to a whorehouse or something… Y/N I-"

You cut him off, shaking your head and whispering no repeatedly. Even if, yes, for a split second your anxiety made you consider the hypothesis, but you dismissed it right away, others could think whatever they wanted of Javi, but you knew him. You trusted him.

"No, Javi… I think better of you, I think the world of you and I trust you you wouldn't do this to me"

And that broke Javi.

Because you were too kind, you were too good for him, you were everything he didn't deserve it.

You always assumed the best of him, and he could never find anyone better than you. He wasn't in a whorehouse, he was at a whore's house. He went over to Judy Mocada's and against any better judgment he pointed a gun at her head, how her sicarios didn't kill him on the act, he would never know, but she thought it was intriguing, amusing even. What made a DEA agent hold her at gunpoint in the middle of the night definitely caught her attention.

He had made her an offer, she agreed and he needed to wait for her at the Embassy the next day. A part of him knew it was easy, too easy, actually, but he didn't care at that moment. In fact, he felt he should've blown up her head when he had the chance to.

And then he just wanted to go home and pick up the pieces of what he'd shattered.

And there you were, being too kind to him, being too loving, too affectionate. It just showed him little of a person he really was.

And standing right next to you, Javi felt onto his knees. His head looking up at you, all the love and admiration back in those beautiful brown eyes, his arms wrapped around your waist and pulled you closer.

"Soy un perro a tus pies"

Javier told you, his breathing was uneven as he waited for an answer that never came. You didn't have words to tell him, after all that happened in just one night you didn't know what to say. So instead, he decided to apologize to you in the best way he knew, the way he could speak beautifully without any words.

He sank his face into your core, lifting your dress up and quickly pulling your panties to the side. He lips didn't tease when they wrapped around your clit and sucked on it, feeling your characteristic warmth, your taste, and when your moans filled the room and your fingers ran through his hair, tugging and gripping at them, he thought that maybe and just maybe things would be alright again.

_____

A/N: it was a hard chapter to write, but it felt necessary to the story, I didn't want to ruin Javi's character development but I also wanted to show that deep down he is still the same insecure handsome broken agent we came to love 🥺🥺🥺

[laura1633]

thinking about max accidentally liking charles’s thirst trap without following him. later he goes through a big ass crisis because of this situation and decides to do something about it 👀

Perfect set up for a fic anon and honestly Max is getting closer and closer to doing something like this I think 😂

Max is scrolling through Charles' thirst trap photos like he normally does when he is having a little "alone time". He gets carried away and accidentally double taps on the photo and likes it. He has a minor heart attack and tries to unlike it but he's almost certain people will have picked up on what he has done.

He distracts himself by having a few drinks and trying to forget about what he has just done. Except the more he drinks to forget the more he keeps thinking about it. His vision is a little blurry and he's not thinking properly as he decides to pull up the picture again.

The next morning Max wakes up with a small hangover and hundreds of missed calls. Even as he is looking at his phone he sees an incoming call from Lando who asks him what he was thinking.

"It was an accident" Max groans, his voice groggy and still laden with sleep.

"Yeah sure" Lando laughs and Max can picture the smirk on his face, "I believe you"

"Well you should, it's the truth. I fell asleep and must have sat on my phone, my ass probably hit like on hundreds of pictures" Max knows he should probably stop babbling because he's protesting too much and it sounds ridiculous.

"Cool" Lando sounds unusually jovial, "I'll leave you to get some more sleep, you sound like shit"

"Thanks mate" Max huffs, happy the inquisition was short and sweet.

"Oh and Max" Lando pauses, "you have a very talented ass"

"Wh- What?!"

"It wasn't the liking it I was referring to" Lando chuckles clearly enjoying himself, "It's a special talent if your ass accidentally types out 'I'd let him absolutely ruin me' in Charles' comment section.

Max wants to burst into flames 🔥

[kjack89]

New Year's Day

For @impetusofadream, who was the winner of my auction for the @bishopmyrielfundraiser! As promised, I matched the donation from the auction with a donation of my own to First Defense Legal Aid in Chicago.

The prompt for this fic was touch starved with holidays mixed in, and I could not resist the temptation to go with the holiday we're currently in. @impetusofadream, I hope you enjoy, and I especially hope that you have a fabulous 2024!

There were, Enjolras thought as he let himself into the Musain relatively early in the morning on January 1, two types of people in the world who were given keys to their most-frequented bars. He, of course, fell in the first camp, that being those the proprietors trusted to lock up when their meetings ran unusually long.

The other was more—

“Grantaire?” Enjolras said, surprised, when he saw Grantaire slumped on a bar stool.

Well, it wasn’t the first time Grantaire had just spent the night rather than stumble home. And given everything, Enjolras highly doubted it would be the last.

Still, it would inevitably make his job that morning that much more difficult, and he sighed, about to go wake the man and force him out when Grantaire straightened, giving Enjolras a surprisingly sober smile. “Happy New Year,” he said, standing up from the bar stool without so much as a wobble.

Enjolras blinked. “You’re not drunk.”

“And your powers of observation remain unparalleled,” Grantaire said, stretching.

Enjolras couldn’t help but watch as the hem of Grantaire’s shirt crept up as he stretched, revealing a taut strip of skin that he wanted to— He tore his eyes away, clearing his throat. “Sorry, I just assumed you slept here, which you normally only do when you are deeply inebriated.”

Grantaire considered it for a moment and shrugged. “Fair point. But no, I did not sleep here last night.”

“Then why are you here?” Enjolras asked, curious, finally shrugging out of his jacket and setting it over the back of a chair.

“Well, I know you volunteered to clean up this morning after last night’s party, and I just thought—” He broke off, a frown creasing his forehead as Enjolras shivered. “You’re shivering.”

“Evidently your powers of observation are just as good as mine,” Enjolras muttered, rubbing his arms.

Grantaire’s frown deepened as he glanced at the red jacket Enjolras had been wearing. “Where’s your winter coat?”

“What are you, my mother?” Enjolras snarked, though it was somewhat undercut by his teeth chattering, just slightly. “I didn’t know it was going to get this cold, or snow. Or that the heat in this place is so abysmal.”

Grantaire rolled his eyes. “Ok, that latter one you definitely should have,” he huffed before holding his arms out. “Come here.”

Enjolras hesitated. “Why?” he asked warily.

Grantaire just gave him a look. “Just get your ass over here.”

Enjolras hesitated for only a moment more before crossing to him. Grantaire immediately wrapped him in a hug, pulling him close against his chest. It felt— Well, if Enjolras was being honest with himself, it felt absolutely heavenly. Grantaire always ran warm, but it was never more apparent than in that moment. Enjolras felt almost like he’d been embraced by a mini-furnace, especially as Grantaire rubbed his arms, his touch surprisingly gentle.

Enjolras’s eyelids fluttered closed as he tipped his head forward to rest it against Grantaire’s shoulder. “Thanks,” he said, his voice slightly muffled. “This is helping.”

“Wearing proper outwear would probably help more,” Grantaire told him, but judging by his voice, he was smiling, just a little.

“Yeah, but who needs outwear when I have you,” Enjolras mumbled. “Though this probably isn’t helping your hangover.”

Grantaire laughed lightly, his chest rumbling against Enjolras’s. “It’s a good thing I’m holding on to you, because this one might knock you over: I’m not hungover.”

Enjolras pulled back just far enough to frown at him. “Really?”

“Always with the tone of surprise,” Grantaire said dryly. “But yes, really. I decided to take myself home early last night.” He shrugged, his hands slowing, mostly just resting against Enjolras’s arms at this point. “Irish goodbyed and got home long before the ball dropped, so plenty of time to sleep it off.”

“But why did you leave so early?” Enjolras asked.

Grantaire started to answer but then seemed to realize that they were still holding onto each other and cleared his throat, taking a step backward. Enjolras didn’t quite whimper at the loss of heat, but it was pretty close. Grantaire shoved his hands in his pockets, not making eye contact. “How about I make coffee?” he suggested. “That’ll warm us both up.”

“Oh,” Enjolras said. “Sure. Good idea. And I’ll just go, uh…”

“See how much damage our friends managed to cause?” Grantaire supplied, giving Enjolras a small but genuine smile. “Imagine if the owners decided to kick us out after all these years. They might actually get taken off of the various FBI watchlists they’ve ended up on.”

“Marius is pretty sure that the ‘providing material aid to terrorists’ charges would never stick anyway,” Enjolras said blithely, and Grantaire laughed.

“Then we definitely need to do a thorough job of cleaning.”

Enjolras nodded and headed to the backroom, mentally preparing for the chaos he would inevitably find. It’s not that their friends were purposefully destructive, except for when they needed to be, of course, but a little alcohol and a lot of exuberance – ok, a lot of alcohol and somehow even more exuberance – meant that accidents happened. Like spilling a variety of drinks, missing the garbage can when throwing things out, and so on.

Enjolras pushed the door open and stood staring at the carnage for a long moment. 

It wasn’t the worst he’d ever seen.

But that wasn’t saying much.

He took a deep, steadying breath and got to work.

He had planned to put on a podcast or something while cleaning, but with Grantaire there, he felt weird about it, so just cleaned in silence with no company but his own thoughts, which also wouldn’t normally bother him, save for the fact that his thoughts kept straying back to Grantaire, and how warm he had been, and how amazing that had felt.

Shaking his head to clear it, Enjolras grabbed the stack of red solo cups Bahorel and Feuilly had been using for beer pong and stuffed them into the garbage bag with more force than was necessary. But even when trying not to think about Grantaire hugging him, he couldn’t stop himself from wondering why Grantaire’s would’ve left early.

Enjolras’s usual excuses for ducking out early were needing to get an early start the next day, or being tired from having an early start that day, but he knew Grantaire, and he knew that Grantaire had never let either of those stop him.

He frowned down at an empty pizza box and jumped when he heard someone clear his throat. “Sorry,” Grantaire said, holding two steaming mugs. “Was trying not to startle you and obviously didn’t succeed.”

“It’s fine,” Enjolras said, a little too quickly. 

Grantaire just looked like he was trying not to laugh. “Well, bad news on the coffee front – couldn’t find any, but I did find hot chocolate.”

He held a coffee mug out to Enjolras, who quickly accepted it, wrapping his hands around the warm mug. “Hot chocolate is perfect,” he said, closing his eyes as he took a sip. 

When he opened his eyes again, Grantaire was looking at him with an odd, unreadable expression, and Enjolras frowned. “Problem?”

“More than we have any hope of delving into here and now,” Grantaire said with a forced sort of cheer. “Why don’t I take over trash duty and you can start on wiping down tables and sweeping?”

Enjolras took another sip of hot chocolate. “Works for me.”

They settled into a comfortable sort of silence as they worked, and it only Grantaire taking two trips out to the dumpster in the alleyway for Enjolras to realize that he volunteered for trash duty to save Enjolras from having to brave the cold again.

Somehow, that made him feel warmer than either the hug or the hot chocolate.

As did the fact that they worked well together. That wasn’t exactly a secret, of course, even if Enjolras preferred not to dwell on it too much. But they had always made a good team, at least when both parties were willing to put in the effort, each man making up for the other’s weaknesses. And evidently that extended to cleaning up after a New Year’s Eve party, and Enjolras definitely tried not to think about what other areas of their lives that it might extend to.

Well, he tried. Just not very successfully.

But his reverie was broken by what sounded like a stifled snicker, and Enjolras frowned at Grantaire. “What?” he asked, preemptively defensive.

“Nothing,” Grantaire said quickly. Too quickly.

Enjolras’s eyes narrowed. “Liar.”

Grantaire wet his bottom lip with his tongue, not able to stop his smirk. “It’s just, uh, you’re holding the broom kind of weird.”

Enjolras looked from Grantaire down to the broom and back to Grantaire again, affronted. “How the hell else am I supposed to hold it?”

“Like you grew up having to actually do chores instead of having a housekeeper to do it,” Grantaire said, saccharine sweet.

Enjolras glowered at him, more mad about not having a comeback to that than anything, especially since countering that he had a live-in au pair, not a housekeeper, was not likely to score him the points he needed to recover.

Instead, he settled for holding the broom out towards Grantaire. “Fine,” he snapped, “Clearly you should do it, if you’re so good at it.”

Grantaire’s smirk widened. “Ok.”

But instead of taking it, Grantaire stepped behind Enjolras, as close as they had been when hugging, reaching around him to carefully reposition Enjolras’s hands into what he clearly deemed the correct position on the broom. “See,” he said, his voice low in Enjolras’s ear. “It’s not exactly rocket science, is it.”

Enjolras would have been irritated by the fact that it was in fact easier to sweep when holding the broom like this, but he was distinctly more occupied by the warmth of Grantaire, pressed against his back, and the fact that Grantaire’s hands were still resting on top of his.

It was a strange but perfect moment.

And Enjolras promptly ruined it.

He turned to face Grantaire, realized that this put their faces about an inch apart, and tried to take a step backwards, only to stumble over a chair he could’ve sworn was not there before he turned around. Grantaire reached out automatically to steady him, his smile fading. “Are you ok?” Grantaire asked. “Don’t tell me you need me to teach you how to mop next.”

But Enjolras didn’t laugh, or even just roll his eyes. Instead, he asked, “Why did you leave early?”

Grantaire looked momentarily confused before his expression evened out. “Oh, it was nothing,” he said dismissively, but he couldn’t quite meet Enjolras’s eyes as he said it. “I was tired, and—”

“Why did you really leave early?” Enjolras interrupted.

Grantaire’s eyes darted to Enjolras’s and away again, and he shrugged. “I didn’t want to start 2024 the same way I started 2023. And 2022. And 2021. And—”

“I get the picture,” Enjolras interrupted. He hesitated before asking, “The same way, how?”

Again Grantaire just shrugged. “Wanting something I can’t have.”

Enjolras was suddenly aware of Grantaire’s hand still gripping his arm where he’d caught him before falling, and the touch felt even more scalding hot than the cocoa had. 

A scalding hot reminder that he was playing with fire.

But Enjolras was also tired of this, of ringing in a new year with the same thing lingering between them that neither man seemed willing to take the final step to address. And maybe, given everything else happening in the world, it would be worth it even if 2024 was the year he finally got burned.

“Who says you can’t have it?” he asked, his voice barely more than a whisper, and Grantaire just shook his head.

“Enjolras—”

But Enjolras had already closed what little space there was between them to kiss him, a somewhat tentative and chaste press of his lips against Grantaire’s. 

He almost pulled away, but Grantaire’s grip on his arm tightened. “I see I’m going to have to teach you the proper technique for that, too,” Grantaire said, his voice low, and Enjolras immediately scowled.

“I don’t need you to teach me—”

Grantaire kissed him, a slow, heady kiss that had Enjolras’s mouth opening against his on instinct alone, and ok, maybe he had a point. He released Enjolras’s arm so that he could wrap his arm around Enjolras’s waist instead, pulling him in close. His other hand carded through Enjolras’s still-damp curls, and Enjolras’s last semi-coherent thought was to wonder if it was possible for a person to melt.

Then Grantaire licked into his mouth and Enjolras stopped having any coherent thoughts altogether.

Sometime later – it could have been minutes, or hours for all Enjolras knew – they broke apart just far enough to catch their breath, both men grinning like idiots. “What are you thinking about?” Enjolras asked as Grantaire reached down to tangle his fingers with Enjolras’s.

He lifted their joined hands to his lips, pressing a kiss to Enjolras’s knuckles before telling him, “Just that I achieved my resolution in record time.”

“What was your resolution?” Enjolras asked.

Grantaire’s grin widened. “To actually get up the courage to do that.”

Enjolras’s face softened, even though he couldn’t stop himself from saying, even as he took a step closer to Grantaire, “Is now a good time to point out that technically, I was the one who got up the courage to do that?”

“Semantics, schmantics,” Grantaire murmured, kissing him once again.

Enjolras laughed lightly against Grantaire’s lips. “Good to see some things haven’t changed.”

“Just for the better for once,” Grantaire said, his lips ghosting over Enjolras’s, and Enjolras laughed again, resting his hand on Grantaire’s chest.

“In that case,” he murmured, pressing a quick kiss to the corner of Grantaire’s mouth, “Happy New Year, Grantaire.”

“Yeah,” Grantaire said, pulling him even closer. “I think it will be.”

[ginevrapng]

𝐖𝐄'𝐑𝐄 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆!

(𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐓𝐖𝐎)

pairing: george weasley x reader, ron weasley x reader

word count: 4.0k words

content warnings: swearing, british idioms and phrases and slang words, chubby coded! reader, reader not specified what house they were in but at one point they had came into the gryffindor common room(not under normal circumstances like to hangout or sleep), no use of y/n but george sometimes calls the reader shortcake (explained in the last part), mentions of violence after a canon quidditch match,

a/n: this chapter has a lot of talking about the past as i wanted to dig deeper into george and the reader's relationship so far, the next chapter will be completely in current time. this chapter still has ron content (i can't get enough of how i've written ron's dynamic with the reader)

summary: you're an honorary member of the weasley family and have been for years, you're one of ron's best friends and are very close. everyone thinks and teases you both that you're dating or have feelings for each other. this muddles up things as george feels guilty about his own feelings.

<< part three | part one >> | masterlist (check out my poll for this chapter)

the next morning, when you wake up, you see ginny next to you, still asleep, you assume hermione is already up and about. luckily you only drank water near the end of the night so you only ended up tipsy, unlikely you're not a teenager anymore so you still had a small hangover. you miss the days of hogwarts parties when you can drink as much as you want and wake up fine and be able to go to class with no issue. tiptoeing around ginny, trying not to wake her up, you remember what happened at the end of the night and groan, hoping it won't be too awkward today with george.

you successfully leave the room without waking ginny up and decide to see if ron is up or not, doubtful that he is. creeping along to ron's room you step over all the places that creak in the house and softly knock on the door. after no answer you open it a crack to see ron still in bed alone in the room. the logical thing to do would be to let him sleep in, after all he did look after you last night, but it's ron so the only option you deem worthy is to throw yourself over him in bed, knowing your tispy self insisted on cuddles last night.

you mischievously grin and close the door behind you before jumping onto the bed with him and waking him up. ron pulls up his covers in shock making you laugh uncontrollably, "ron you're acting like you're a naked women. is there something you want to tell me?"

he tries to push you off the bed and fails miserably, just causing you to laugh more. he grabs hold of your soft frame and pulls you down to him, making you laugh even louder. "why are you waking me up so bloody early? what did i ever do to you?" he grumbles.

your laughter quiets down as you lay together. "i believe you promised me cuddles ronald."

he holds onto your plush waist tighter, maybe this is ron's punishment towards you, to hold you so tight you break something or just pop. "alright, but shut up. i'm going back to sleep." you're about to argue that it's already late and people are downstairs but harry bursts through the door.

"what's this about then?" harry questions you both.

ron chucks a pillow at him, "shove off, harry." you giggle and move under the covers to get comfier in bed, knowing that ron's going to keep you there for awhile.

"i'll see you two lovebirds later." before ron can tell him to piss off again he slams the door shut, definitely drawing attention.

ron readjusts in bed with you still in his arms. "he's bloody annoying." ron mumbles before he closes his eyes again, resting his head against yours, making you feel safe in his arms with your head on his pillows that smell like him. you weren't initially tired when you came into bed with ron, you just wanted to mess with him but now your eyelids are becoming heavy as you drift off to sleep.

hermione can be absolutely terrifying at times as you're rudely awaken when hermione storms into the room, looking annoyed at you both. however ron seems unbothered by the fact, still sleeping, that is until hermione hovers over the bed and shouts at you both. "get up! both of you! i don't want to believe what harry said he walked in on, if he's telling the truth that's entirely inappropriate but you both look awfully cosy together! everyone is downstairs and has already eaten breakfast." after she see's that you've both waken up she leaves. you dread to think what harry's told everyone but at this point you're use to it. you feel better after your nap, you've found out before that you sleep better with ron next to you and you're no longer hungover either.

reluctantly you head downstairs, much preferring to spend the day in bed. the shouts and laughter that fill the living room fade when everyone see's you both and the onslaught of teasing happens. the comments include fred interrogating you about your, in his words, 'precarious position' due to the fact that anyone could have walked in. harry's saying he regrets walking in, and adding that you looked rather comfortable with all your limbs wrapped around each other.

"how do you even sleep next to him? he snores so loud." harry looked at you quizzically, genuinely confused.

you simply reply, "tune him out."

"oi! you snore louder than me."

"lies," you throw your hands at him in mock offence.

"ron's right shortcake." george tells you from the sofa after staying silent for most of the previous teasing.

"how 'd you know?" slightly worried that you snore so loud everyone knows and will make fun of you for it forever.

george grins at you, you've fallen right into his trap. "i can hear you through the walls."

with an amused smile you make your way over to where he's sitting and flick him on the forehead. "hush you." george's heart skips a beat when he sees the smile you direct at him. as you sit down next to george his cheeks warm up and he tries to hide his smile that appeared on his face because you sat next to him, out of everyone you choose him.

george looks over to ron to see his reaction, half of him wanting to make sure ron's okay with the fact you're sitting next to him but the other half, the half that he's more ashamed of, wants to see if ron's noticed, almost as if he wants to see that ron's bothered by it, to rub it in is face and make him jealous. to show him that you've chosen to sit next to him instead of ron or any of the others. so when he does look over at ron and see's him stealing food from the remains of hermione's breakfast, not even glancing at them, he felt a little conflicted.

"what's up george?" you follow his gaze to where ron is, "is he stealing your food again?"

george smirks at you and ruffles your hair, shaking his head. "nope, just seeing what ronniekins' doing." pouting, you tell him to stop messing up your hair while he chuckles and joins the conversation harry and ginny were having. you deflate as you watch him turn his attention onto someone else so flippantly.

the conversation they're having is supposed to be interesting but it's not to you, no matter how hard you try to get into quidditch you just can't. you're not as bad as hermione is with flying and would love the idea of riding on any magical creatures like dragons or hippogriffs but you worry that a broom will break.

george has reassured you plenty of times that there's no way it'll break but at the end of the day it's a stick and sticks break. you love watching them play, even if you worry that they'll get hurt, and you know the basic rules about the game but conversations about quidditch that don't include your friends you tune out. you'd be listening earnestly to the conversation if it was something about harry or ginny but them talking about the chudley cannons doesn't interest you much.

when ron made the team in your fifth year you were ecstatic, more excited than he was. you knew how badly he wanted to be on the team and you were thrilled, yet you always reminded him to be careful before games and even when training, you wouldn't be surprised if he found your nagging highly annoying.

you'll be able to focus on quidditch conversations if they speak with a lot of passion but right now they're not, you've just woken up and it sounds dull. maybe the conversation will change soon, or maybe molly will come in and interrupt, saving you from listening, and tell everyone they have a job to do or how she's going into town and she's going to ask if anyone wants to come, or maybe ron will start arguing with everyone about how great the chudley cannons are. when your friends passionately talk about something you listen but it's a boring monotonous conversation currently. you love hearing your friends talk passionately about their lives and their interests it's how you're so good at giving everyone presents.

like when harry animatedly told you all about his first christmas at hogwarts, about how he received the invisibility cloak and all the contents in his wizarding cracker. one of those things including a wizard's chess set that was later unfortunately broken and couldn't, at the time, be repaired. so that christmas you brought him a wizard's chess set of his own as he had been using ron's up until that point.

for hermione's birthday one year you gave her a first edition copy of hogwarts: a history. it's always been her favourite book since the first year of hogwarts and she often rereads it. throughout your school years together she retold information to you even when it had very little relevance. you knew how much she loved that book and had been trying to find someone with a signed copy that will sell it to you. after bathilda bagshot died you looked everywhere trying to find any signed copy. you were tempted at the time to ask someone else to sign it, someone that she looks up to like mcgonagall but that was a fleeting thought as you didn't think that idea made much sense. so your plan was to keep on the look out for any copies.

you stumbled on something better one day though while browsing an old bookshop in knockturn alley. you occasionally go there for things you need and you dread to think what would happen if ron found out, even worse molly, they'd insist it's too dangerous and never let you go again, especially on your own.

when flourish and blott's don't have the book you need you know where to go, even if sometimes you have to grab your wand a little tighter to feel safe or that if anyone saw you there they'd be asking serious questions and questioning you on dark magic. however, it's a good thing you do visit having found the first edition copy you had gifted her. you would've haggled the price down a bit after knowing the shopkeeper for so long but the situation was too good even if it was pricey, it's not everyday you come across a first edition copy of such a well known book.

you were probably most proud of the gift you got for george one year. when the whole situation of malfoy insulting the twins cleansweep brooms escalated to insulting the whole weasley family and harry's parents came to a head it wrecked everyone involved (excluding malfoy). the twins and harry had their brooms confiscated due to the fight between them and malfoy.

what made him even more mad was the fact that you were there to witness it happen. george thought maybe it would've been better if you were there to hear exactly what malfoy said but all you saw from the crowd was george and harry punching malfoy repeatedly.

he didn't want to scare you and maybe if you heard what came out of malfoy's mouth you'd think what george did was valid. that's what he had thought until you came barging into the gryffindor common room unannounced, looking absolutely furious screaming about what a fucking arse malfoy is. "do you even know what he said?" angelina asked at the time, knowing that word got around of the fight but not knowing if people knew exactly what happened.

"no but i know it was bloody well something to make everybody that angry!" george couldn't help but smile at that, he'd been so tense and frustrated since it's happened but then you come in and make it all better, getting angry on everyone's behalf and you don't even know what happened. that was when george fell more in love with you then he already was and he didn't think that was possible.

the twins later took their brooms back. they were known for breaking into offices, they should've been kept somewhere more secure if they knew anything about the twins reputation. they took back their brooms and left the school in classic weasley twin style. despite getting their brooms back the incident took a hit on george's confidence. malfoy insulted his entire family and he was so enraged about it.

after the twins left the school year early it was incredibly quiet without them but in the summer it was hectic with them causing even more trouble than normal. one of the hotter days you and george spent the day together inside. everyone was outside playing quidditch but george wanted to stay with you, he told you that he was too tired to play but really he just used that as an excuse to be with you. arthur was at work and molly was in the kitchen, hermione was even outside reading near everyone but you and george stayed in and talked all day. he told you everything about the fight with malfoy, he tried to make jokes and make it seem like not a big deal but you could tell otherwise. even though he was grinning the smile didn't reach his eyes, even though he was making jokes they had a hint of insecurity behind them.

you didn't mention it, you didn't want him to feel put on the spot, but you rested your hand on his arm in comfort and sat closer to him. yes it was incredibly hot at the time but neither of you wanted to move away. he spoke about his broom and about how he won the match even with his broom, behind his words you can tell he held some kind of resentment. he's an excellent beater, better than fred and he should be proud to have won that game, malfoy's ruined it by the aftermath and it's tarnished by all the hateful words malfoy said.

the week after you had brought him a broom. afterwards when you left dervish and banges you realised that you only brought one for george and not for fred and started panicking because there was no holiday coming up, you just wanted to give him a new broom, hoping he would like it but then you didn't get one for fred. your feelings for george at that moment overshadowed any logical part of your brain that told you that you should probably think this through and rethink your purchase instead getting two cheaper ones.

after calming down you had a whole speech prepared in your mind to fred about how sorry you were for not getting him one. making excuses like how fred didn't actually punch malfoy, only harry and george did and harry doesn't need a new broom. other excuses you threw out the window thinking they sounded too harsh, george is a better player then you so he needs a better broom or george is more likely to keep playing now after you've left hogwarts then you will because he's better. after those failed excuses in your head you had scolded yourself on the obvious unintentional favouritism, definitely giving yourself away every time you mention how much better george is. you love fred, you do, but george is george.

coming back to the burrow was somewhat of a spectacle, having to deal with both the twins. fred was the first person you saw and the confusion on his face was evident when he saw you holding a broom, something that you'd never do as he knows you don't trust them. he raised his brow in confusion.

"before you start it's not for you freddie. it's for george." there's a pause as you try to sort out your thoughts and fred smirks. "after what happened with malfoy i thought he could use a new broom. i mean- i mean he was the one who got physical with him and i know harry did too but his broom is already new and i can't afford to get him an even more expensive one."

"woah that's quite the excuse." he joked while smirking.

you cross your arms over your chest, "it's not an excuse, it's just the truth."

"yeah, yeah." he spoke, dismissively. "just know i'm never letting this go."

you rolled your eyes as the hairs on your arm stood up, you had a feeling he was telling the truth. "where's george?" having hoped to run away from the conversation as quick as you can so that fred didn't figure out your romantic sentiment towards george.

he directed you upstairs to their room with a shit-eating grin on his face. you had vowed to blow fred away with an amazing present for christmas but after that interaction you had you were thinking otherwise. (in the end you still did get him a very thought out gift that he thoroughly liked.)

you had knocked on the door, waiting patiently for an answer. george tells you to come in, and his eyes widen in surprise momentarily before he quickly schools his expression because this is the first time you've ever entered his room and you just remembered the same thing as you get distracted about why you're here and instead start taking in the room.

glancing around the room you could see boxes everywhere. cardbox boxes that were taped up with the edges bent and marginally destroyed. fred and george were storing so many products it's a surprise they even had room for their beds. there was a smell that lingered in the air, like gunpowder and cosmetic sprays to try and cover up the scent. you were unfazed by the scene, you would have been more in shock if you walked in and it was a 'normal' room. the smell in the air was making you woozy and flushed as you discovered this is why george almost always smells faintly of gunpowder and you started to find it hard to concentrate being so close to it.

"this is a surprise shortcake, what are you doing in my humble abode?" he inquired, in the process snapping you out of your thoughts. he didn't want you to judge him for what his room looked like, he knew you never would though.

"you know humble abode normally refers to a house?"

"deflecting the question." he sits down on the bed.

having hid the broom behind your back since you knocked, "i brought you something." you tried to answer and sound confident but you know that your voice trembled, you're nervous and you're suddenly liking the floor more than making eye contact with george.

"oh really?" he grinned but his stomach was going crazy and flipping about while his heart bursts out of his chest. you got him something, you, for him. his palms were sweaty and he tried to subtly rub his hands against his trousers.

"i know how shit you've been feeling about malfoy so i-" you found it hard to speak, worried about george's reaction. going closer to the bed you struggled to find the words but reach behind yourself and gave him the broom.

"shortcake, i'm... i- is this a broom?" he knew the response.

you bashfully nodded your head, losing the ability to talk with a dry throat and gently sat on the bed with george but put some distance between the two of you.

you start rambling, "it's um, a- a comet 290. i don't know a lot about quidditch, which you know, but this one looked fancy and it was one of the newer ones that i could afford. i probably should of asked someone's opinion before buying but i hope this one is okay."

"i love it," george whispers, you had never heard him speak so softly to you. sometimes he'll talk gently to you but never like this, never sounding so genuine.

george is so hopelessly and helplessly in love and he was holding on to a very thin thread trying to control himself to stay away from you because all he wanted to do is press his lips against yours, kissing you until you're both gasping for air. your lips always look so soft, he wondered what they'd feel like against his. he wanted to beg you to give him a chance, he'll make you feel beautiful, that you'd be perfect together. the comet 290 is the best gift anyone had ever given him and he's treasured it for years.

currently after that terribly long conversation about quidditch you wish someone could save you from, you decide to save yourself and go find molly. george noticed you leave but assumed you'd be back. you find her in the scullery, washing clothes.

"is there any jobs you need me to do molly?"

"no dear, you sit down and relax."

you're so close to begging and telling her that you just want to get out of listening about quidditch.

"i'll do anything molly. please let me, i woke up so late this morning and couldn't help you tidy up."

she stays silent for a second and then turns to you, "the garden does need de-gnoming at some point."

"yes!" you respond more enthusiastic then considered appropriate before correcting yourself, "yes, molly. i'll get right on it."

"get help from some of the others dear, i don't want you doing it on your own."

[cherienymphe]

The Less I Know The Better XIII (JJ Maybank x Reader x Rafe Cameron)

Warnings: mentions of NON-CON, manipulation, underage drinking, drug use, unhealthy relationship, eventual violence, one sided kiara x jj, non canon ages, pogue!reader

➥ banner by @vase-of-lilies​ | divider by @firefly-graphics​

➥ series masterlist

summary:  When you start dating Rafe Cameron, no one is more surprised than you when your best friend JJ takes it really well. However, no one is more surprised than JJ when he’s forced to see his once frumpy BFF in an entirely new light, suddenly terrified of losing what he never knew he had to the person he hates most.

~

When you woke up, the only thing you could focus on was the pounding in your head. This was the worst hangover you’d ever had in your life, and you made a mental note to start trying out better coping mechanisms. You stared at your ceiling for what felt like a long time, wracking your brain, and it was only when you shifted did you take note of…everything else.

You were naked, and while it wasn’t unusual for you to sleep like that sometimes, you knew that this wasn’t the case. Your neck throbbed, and your whole body ached. You would’ve written it off to the alcohol if it wasn’t for the very obvious wetness between your legs. You blinked, forcing yourself to sit up as you looked around. You had the faintest memory of calling Rafe last night, and you yelled for him. When you didn’t get a response, you frowned.

It wasn’t like him to just leave like that, but then you remembered how strict Ward was being these days.

You thought hard, bits and pieces coming back to you, certain that Rafe had been here. You wondered if he’d left a note or at least texted you. He never left without at least waking you up for a goodbye. You couldn’t get in the shower fast enough, desperate to wake yourself up and do something about this hangover. With every brush over your skin, there was no doubt in your mind that Rafe had been here, and the first thing you did when you got out was look for your phone.

You two were supposed to be broken up, and in a moment of drunken weakness, you had called him. You hadn’t planned to, but with everything going on between your dad and JJ, you just really needed him. When you finally found your phone in the living room where you’d left it, your frown deepened.

The last call you’d made to Rafe was the day before yesterday.

Your heart sank at that, and you furiously blinked, shaking your head. You kept scrolling through your call history, trying to somehow make it be what you remembered, but the evidence, or lack of, was staring you in the face. Your last texts were normal, nothing about asking him to come over, and your hand lowered. You were so confused, a sick feeling in your stomach as you finally decided to just call him.

Rafe answered on the second ring.

“Morning,” he drawled, and you gave a tense smile at the sound of his voice.

“Hey…um… I just felt like checking in on you,” you said.

You didn’t really know how to approach the subject of ‘I can’t remember if we had sex last night’.

“Checking in on me? I should be checking in on you,” he replied, and it sounded like he was eating. “You were really upset the other day about JJ, and with everything going on with your dad, best friend problems are the last thing you need.”

“Right,” you nervously chuckled. “The other…the other day? I didn’t talk to you last night?”

Somehow, you knew what Rafe was going to say before he said it, but it didn’t make you any less nauseous.

“Last night? Aside from you texting me about experimenting with some cocktail, no.”

You nodded at that, and you couldn’t stop your eyes from watering. You didn’t realize how badly you were shaking until the phone started hitting your ear, and when you blinked, a few tears spilled over. You could hear Rafe calling your name, and you somehow found the strength to tearfully tell him you had to go.

The phone dropped to the floor as soon as you hung up, and you pressed your hand to your chest, feeling like you couldn’t breathe.

The evidence was too much to ignore. You’d had sex with someone last night, and it wasn’t your boyfriend. The room felt like it was tilting, and you struggled to sit down on the couch. You felt so hot, too hot, and you let your head fall between your legs, trying to come up with any other explanation.

For the life of you, you couldn’t remember what you’d done last night. You were so sure that you had called Rafe. You had already been drunk then, but you thought you weren’t too far gone to not remember that. Clearly, that wasn’t the truth, and you started wracking your brain, trying to remember if you had gone somewhere…met some…guy… You would never, that wasn’t you, and yet…

You suddenly sat up, lips parting.

If you couldn’t even remember what you did last night, then you were obviously too far gone. You had to have been too drunk to even stand, and your head started to spin all over again. You shook it, in denial and determined to not make it true, but then your fingers grazed your neck, and you winced. You had seen the faint bruises in the mirror, woken up with the evidence between your legs, and it had meant nothing when you thought Rafe had been here.

But he hadn’t been.

You were so sure that you were going to be sick when a knock on the door startled you. You jumped, conflicted on whether or not you wanted it to be Rafe. On one hand, you just wanted him to hold you, right now, but on the other hand, you needed to get your mind right before you faced him. However, you knew there was no way Rafe had gotten to this side of the island that fast, but the last person you expected to see when you opened the door was JJ.

His smile fell at the sight of you, and you didn’t even care that you two were supposed to be fighting, right now.

“Y/N…”

The blond trailed off when your face crumbled, a sob caught in your throat as he rushed inside. He pulled you against him, wrapping his arms around you as you squeezed your eyes shut. Once you started, it was like you couldn’t stop, and JJ shushed you, rocking you as you cried into his shirt. No, you and Rafe weren’t technically together, but you didn’t want anyone else but him, it was unlike you to get drunk and sleep with some random guy.

Not to mention the implications that came with your lack of memory.

You didn’t want to say it.

You didn’t even want to think it.

“I think I’m going to be sick,” you choked out, and you knew you wouldn’t make it to your bathroom in time.

JJ followed you out the door as you vomited onto the grass, your nerves and unease so bad that it just kept coming. JJ’s hand made circular motions on your back, and when you were done, you leaned against your house. JJ knelt beside you, brushing your cheeks, and you couldn’t look at him. He seemed to want to give you a moment to calm down, and as you sat there, fighting to calm your breathing, you remembered that he was supposed to be mad at you.

“Why are you here?” you tearfully wondered, looking at him.

JJ’s lips parted, and you couldn’t place the look he was giving you, hand still on your face.

“I came to say sorry.”

You blinked, nodding.

“I was a dick,” he told you. “It doesn’t matter what the reasons were, but you’re already dealing with a lot, and…I was being selfish.”

As much as you wanted to hear that, it wasn’t enough to make you feel better. The tears just kept coming, and JJ softly shushed you.

“What’s wrong?” he wondered, continuing when you didn’t say anything. “Is it Rafe?”

You frantically shook your head, the mention of Rafe making you cry more. You could tell that you were scaring JJ, and he took your hand, sliding down beside you.

“I got really drunk last night,” you shakily said, sniffing. “…and…and I called Rafe. Or at least I thought I did.”

JJ sighed, shifting beside you, and you closed your eyes at the disappointment in that one sound.

“With my dad…and you, I really needed to see him-.”

“Y/N-.”

“…but I didn’t!”

You let out a choked sob, your head falling between your knees.

“I thought I called him, but apparently I didn’t,” you cried, and you could feel JJ’s eyes on you.

“Well, that’s a good thing then-.”

“No!”

You felt like you couldn’t breathe, and you hurried to stand, fidgeting and wrapping your arms around yourself. You avoided JJ’s gaze, lips trembling as you stared at your house. You didn’t know what he would think, would say, and you almost didn’t want to tell him, but you’d already started and considering how much of a mess you were, he knew that something was seriously wrong.

…and JJ was your best friend.

You didn’t keep secrets from one another, and even though that was something that had been tainted a bit by Rafe’s presence, you didn’t think you could keep this from him. You were the first one to know that his dad was putting his hands on him. He was the first person you went to when your brother had taken off.

You were almost positive that you’d been raped last night…and you couldn’t imagine keeping that from your best friend.

“I woke up this morning…alone…”

Your eyes finally met familiar blue ones, and JJ was standing now, a slight frown on his face. You swallowed, pressing your lips together.

“…but it was pretty obvious I didn’t go to bed alone.”

JJ’s frown deepened, and he neared you, reaching for you.

“I can’t…I can’t remember much of anything. I woke up and…”

“Are you sure?”

You nodded, fighting the urge to cry again and JJ pulled you closer.

“I don’t remember what I did last night. I clearly left, I clearly went somewhere, but I don’t remember,” you cried.

“Hey, hey,” he softly said, pulling you against him.

“I don’t remember who I c-came back with.”

You heard JJ huff, his arms tightening as you finally hugged him back.

“I barely even remember…” you trailed off, only have the faintest of memories of hands on you.

You pressed your fingers into his back, uncaring how rocky your friendship seemed to be lately. You were just happy not to deal with this alone, and as much as you wanted Rafe here, you didn’t know if you’d ever be able to tell him. He would flip this entire island upside down.

“JJ, you can’t tell anyone,” you whispered. “…maybe I’ll remember…maybe I won’t, but you can’t say anything.”

“I won’t,” JJ promised, pulling away and wiping your face.

You noted the way his jaw ticked, and you almost felt bad, knowing how much he cared about you.

“You don’t remember anything about him? Nothing?” he pressed, and you shrugged. “It’s okay…”

He rubbed your arms, and you almost wanted to kick yourself for getting so drunk. This wasn’t your fault, rationally you knew that, but you couldn’t help it. How could you let yourself get that drunk? Why would you leave? JJ’s words pulled you from your thoughts.

“…and you’re sure it wasn’t Rafe?”

You shook your head.

“I called him. The last time we talked was two days ago, and even though I thought I’d called him last night, my phone says otherwise.”

Your voice shook, and JJ made soothing sounds.

“Well, whoever he is, he knows where you live now,” JJ murmured, and your eyes widened at that.

“You don’t…” you trailed off, frowning to yourself. “I mean, he clearly got what he wanted, so…”

You took a step back, driving yourself crazy with the thought that this man now knew where you lived and the layout of your house. You were tempted to collapse all over again, and the thought of nights alone while your mom was at work or at the hospital with your dad made your head spin. You probably would have if it weren’t for JJ, and he pulled you closer.

“You want me to stay?”

It was like he read your mind, and you nodded, a tear skipping down your cheek.

“Please,” you whispered. “At least…at least until I can tell Rafe.”

JJ was silent at that, and your eyes met his.

“I-I should tell him…right…?”

“If you want to,” he eventually replied, and you frowned.

“He would want to know…and I don’t like to hide things from him, but…”

You pulled away, wrapping your arms around yourself.

Rafe would go crazy. He would never let you out of his sight, and considering your current relationship status was to help him, this would make that fly right out of the window. He wouldn’t care about what his dad said or what you had agreed on. He was always a bit clingy, always worried about you, but if you told him what happened, his behavior before would be shadowed in comparison.

JJ eased your worries for the time being.

“You’re dealing with a lot of shit already,” JJ told you, gently grabbing your arm. “The last thing you should be thinking about, right now is if you’re going to tell Rafe.”

You hesitantly nodded at that.

“You don’t need to decide that now…or ever,” he continued, pulling you along. “That’s not what’s important.”

You let him take you back inside, sitting down as he pushed you towards the couch. JJ’s silence was telling, uncharacteristic, and it was the only thing that told you how mad he really was. When he brought you a glass of water, you took it, struggling to keep it down. Your gaze met his blue one as he knelt before you, and he slowly exhaled through his nose, resting a hand on your knee.

“I feel like if we hadn’t been fighting then this-.”

“No,” you choked out. “JJ, this isn’t your fault. It’s not even really mine.”

You took another sip, staring into the glass as you held it in your lap.

“If I ever find out who did this to you, I’ll kill him myself.”

You knew that JJ meant every word.

“Hey.”

JJ’s voice was the first thing that greeted you when you woke up, and you groaned. He was leaning against the wall, legs bent with his gaze resting on you. This was probably the fourth night in a row that JJ had slept over, and it was reminiscent of how things were before you’d started dating Rafe. The medication you’d taken made your body feel weighed down, and as much as JJ had been against it, he couldn’t stop you from popping a few sleeping pills.

You were finding it so hard to sleep.

“Hey,” you quietly replied, sitting up.

“You know you can’t rely on those forever.”

JJ was right, but it didn’t mean you had to like it. The first night JJ stayed over, the first night after that night, sleep hadn’t found you, at all. Your mind kept plaguing you with thoughts of some strange man coming into your house and taking advantage of you. The only upside to this was that the thought of alcohol made you want to be sick, and you hadn’t gone near any in days.

“I know,” you told him. “I just… It’s amazing how my mind can torture me with what I can’t even remember.”

JJ scooted closer as you leaned against your headboard, and you sighed.

“If I was with Rafe or…if he at least knew, I’d probably sleep so much better at his house.”

You felt JJ tense beside you, and you looked down.

“He’s been calling, and I can’t ignore every one. Even when I do occasionally answer, I can’t stay on the phone with him for long and pretend like everything is okay.”

JJ didn’t reply, and you continued.

“He knows me,” you whispered. “…and I know he knows something is wrong…and if he asks, I don’t think I can lie to him.”

“What if you tell him and…he relapses?” JJ finally wondered, and you frowned at that, looking at him.

The blond shrugged.

“If I couldn’t help but blame myself, even just a little bit, what do you think Rafe is going to do?”

JJ had a point, and your frown deepened.

Rafe was so protective of you, even now, and he would definitely feel like he had a hand in this somehow.

“I know it’s not my fault, but I can’t help but think that if we weren’t fighting, you wouldn’t have been drinking so much or that you would’ve at least been with us instead of by yourself. Rafe’s mind is probably going to work the same way.”

Your gaze lingered on your sheets, thinking about how quick JJ was to offer to wash them for you. With your mom absent even more than usual, and your dad not here at all, you were so grateful for JJ’s presence. You didn’t think this was something you could deal with alone, and you thought it was funny. The problems you had with JJ seemed so pointless, now, awed that such a horrific event would be what forced your friendship back to what it used to be.

“Come to John B.’s tonight.”

You looked up at his suggestion, and JJ’s blue eyes were pleading.

“You’ve been hiding out for a while, even before…” he trailed off, and you bit your lip. “…and I think you’ll enjoy getting out of this house.”

He was right.

You hadn’t left your house in days, and it was no wonder you were being tormented by what had happened in this very room. Your room felt like your only safe space, but that same safe space had been compromised, putting you in the weirdest headspace. You didn’t answer right away, thinking on it for a while, but when you did finally agree, JJ’s small smile was contagious.

It was much later in the day when you made it to John B.’s, climbing off of JJ’s bike as Kie ran towards you. If they noticed your uncharacteristic silence, they didn’t comment on it, clearly just happy to have you around. You stuck to your soda and water while the rest of them drank, pulled from your thoughts when your phone vibrated.

You knew it was Rafe without even looking.

You debated on whether or not to answer it, wondering how long you could keep this going. Rafe was a confrontational kind of guy, and you knew it was only a matter of time before he decided to say fuck it and just come see you to talk face to face. Before you could make a decision though, a familiar hand covered your phone.

You looked up and your eyes connected with JJ’s, using your other hand to reach for the hot dog he offered you.

“You can call him back,” he told you.

He was right, but you still grimaced.

“I just know how worried he must be. He knows something is wrong, and I’m still processing it myself…let alone well enough to tell him and keep him from choking out every guy in town.”

“I told you,” JJ sighed, sitting beside you. “How he reacts isn’t what’s important. You had a shitty thing done to you, and you’re all that matters. Truthfully, you don’t ever have to tell him. You didn’t even have to tell me.”

He added that last part, and you looked at him.

“I’m glad I did,” you confessed. “At first, I didn’t want to, but I couldn’t really stop myself, and you and I…we don’t have secrets.”

Part of you felt like you weren’t completely processing what had happened, or maybe you were and it was just difficult because you didn’t remember anything. Maybe it would be different if you could remember what you’d done that night, remember his face…remember what he did. JJ’s hand on your back brought you out of your thoughts, and you sent him a grateful smile.

You stayed at John B.’s for as long as possible, which included falling asleep on his couch when it got too late. You and JJ weren’t the only ones who stayed over, and Kie was awake before he was.

“You want me to drive you home? I lost track of how many beers JJ had so I don’t see him waking up anytime soon,” she offered.

You chuckled at that, searching for your jacket as you took her up on her offer.

Kie seemed weirdly quiet too once you were in the vehicle, focusing on the road but glancing at you every now and then.

“Everything’s okay with you, right?”

That was such a loaded question, and you exhaled, looking towards the window.

“Yeah,” you lied. “I’m fine. It’s just my dad and Rafe, I guess.”

She hummed.

“I take it JJ apologized,” she commented, and you smiled.

“He did, yeah. I really hope it’s for the last time,” you added. “I knew that me and Rafe would be difficult for him, but I underestimated just how much.”

When you looked at Kie, she had a strange look on her face, pulling her lip between her teeth.

“You guys seem close again, so I hope so too…”

Her tone indicated that she had something else on her mind, and she spoke again as she neared your house.

“…and you and Rafe are broken up, now, so I just wondered…” she trailed off, sighing. “You and JJ just seem closer.”

You frowned at her, now, unsure if you were understanding what she was hinting at.

“Do you think me and…JJ…?”

The other girl shrugged, and you would’ve laughed if you didn’t realize how serious she was.

“Kie, you know he’s like a brother to me. Always has been, and if he had a sister, it would be me,” you chuckled. “I just feel like I can talk to him like I used to, that’s all. Besides, while Rafe and I aren’t technically together…this ‘breakup’ is nothing.”

You rolled your eyes at the thought.

Kie still looked like she had a lot on her mind, and you were sure she was going to say something else when you both focused on the sight of a familiar bike in your yard. Your heart skipped a beat, and you could feel Kie’s eyes on you. You knew it was only a matter of time before Rafe came to see you, but you were still unprepared for it.

“Do you want me to stay?”

You could hear the concern in her voice, and you were sourly reminded of the fact that JJ was not the only one who disapproved of your relationship. You shook your head, thanking her before hopping out. She only drove off when you opened your door, and you watched her do so before stepping inside.

Rafe was sitting on your couch, and you guessed that he got in through your faulty window.

“Hey.”

It was such a silly thing to say, and the look Rafe gave you only confirmed that.

“Where were you?” he questioned, and you dropped your purse beside him.

“I was at John B.’s.”

He looked good, you noted, and seeing him look so healthy and not so strung out warmed your heart.

“I’ve been here since last night,” he said, making your face fall. “I wanted to see you, and I didn’t know where you were, so I called and…”

He trailed off, both of you knowing how that went.

“I’ve had a lot on my mind, and I’m trying to process it-.”

“Then let me help,” he offered, standing now. “Something’s wrong.”

You swallowed, and Rafe neared you.

“….and it’s not just me and my bullshit or your dad or just JJ. I feel like something’s really wrong.”

You knew you, and just like you predicted, you couldn’t lie to Rafe, and so your answer was simple.

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

Your voice was low, and Rafe frowned, face troubled as he struggled between wanting to force it out of you or respecting your wishes.

“I want to tell you,” you honestly told him. “…but you’ll get mad, and right now, this is about me, and I don’t have the energy to keep you from flying off the handle.”

Rafe deflated some at that, lips parting. Now, he looked more scared than anything, dark blond strands hanging into his eyes. He thought on your words for a bit, swiping his tongue between his lips and glancing away. You watched him take a deep breath.

“How mad?”

“Really mad,” you whispered.

He nodded at that, briefly closing his eyes before resting them on you again. He didn’t say anything, simply opening his arms, and tears kissed your eyes as you ran into them. The familiar smell of his cologne was comforting, and you twisted your fingers into his shirt. You thought about how helpful it was to have JJ at your side during this, and now you had Rafe again too, and you once again thought it was funny.

Would a horrific event really be what was needed to have things finally settle between you three?

As Rafe held you close, you hoped that at least something good could come from this.

[magics-neptunes-things]

Friends?

Hello everyone!

The story is happening in March 2023.

Enjoy ♥

TW : Hungover

PART 2 | PART 3

Feeling like an elephant is sitting on her head, Katie lets go of a little groan of discomfort when she wakes up. The curtains having been closed last night (or rather this morning), the Irish is unable to say what time it is. But she vaguely remembers that today is a day of and that she has plenty of time to stay in her bed, her head under her cushion, promising herself to never touch a single drop of alcohol again.

Inhaling deeply through her nose, Katie puts a hand on her painful skull while keeping her eyes closed, trying to remember the events of last night. She perfectly remembers going out with the girls from Arsenal to celebrate Stina’s birthday, a dance floor and way too many cocktails.

It's while rolling on the back that Katie freezes suddenly, when her body enters in collision with another. Katie’s eyes suddenly open and she gets up on her elbows to see who is next to her. She sees nothing, however, except a back and brown hair.

She brought a girl home last night.

Lifting the sheets, Katie quickly realizes that she is dressed in a sports bra and shorty, her usual outfit when she sleeps. Her night companion is wearing an Irish football shirt with her name and number on it. Releasing the sheets, Katie lets herself fall back on her pillow, her mind walking at a hundred an hour, desperately trying to remember who she brought home last night.

Partly to avoid the humiliation of not remembering the name of her conquest, but also because Caitlin was there last night. Caitlin who almost didn't return from Australia after Christmas and who she is closer than ever. It was only when the Australian thought about not coming back that Katie realized that there was more than friendship in her feelings for her. That she’s slowly but deeply falling in love with her.

Her breakup with Ruesha dates from almost a year ago, almost at the same time as Caitlin and Lia broke up too. If they seem to have managed to remain courteous to each other despite the suffering that a breakup brings, it's far from the same for Katie and Ruesha. There is no longer any exchange between them and Katie happily ignores her ex when she has to meet her in training camps.

So it’s perfectly normal for her to move on, but Katie knows that Caitlin is struggling with her mental health and she doesn't want to impose too much on the Australian. But if Caitlin saw her leaving with another girl last night, there is not a fucking chance left. And Katie suddenly feels nauseous.

"Can you stop fucking moving?"

Katie freezes again when she hears the voice of the person next to her, the accent easily recognizable to her.

"Caitlin?"

"Shut up, god, please" moaned Caitlin, her head on her forehead, apparently also suffering from a pretty hangover.

It's at this precise moment that everything comes back into place in Katie’s mind, each of the memories taking place in the Irish’s head. And it also allows her to shake herself a little, mentally at least.

" ’m coming back" Katie mumbles, Caitlin replies only with a vague grunt.

The Irish girl almost fall in the dress that Caitlin wore last night but nevertheless manages to reach her bathroom in which she locks herself before sitting in her bathtub to call Leah. By Facetime, by habit.

"Hello?" ended up doing Leah’s voice after what feels like an eternity.

The screen is completely black, without Katie knowing if it’s because the screen is hidden or if it’s because Leah is still in bed. Not that it’s what interests her now to be completely honest.

"Leah I’m into deep"

"What’s going on?"

Leah’s voice looks more awake and Katie manages to draw the contours of her friend’s face, certifying that she is in the dark.

"I… I slept with Caitlin last night" the Irish mumbles, glancing at the door, hopping that Caitlin can't hear her.

"Yes and?"

The answer surprises Katie so much that she remains stuck for a few seconds before her emotions regain the upper hand, like a champagne cork that comes out of the bottle when shaken too much.

"What do you mean, and? That’s all you can think of? It’s Caitlin, Leah!"

"Yes well excuse me, but after having surprised you in full makeout session against your car after you went missing for about thirty minutes, I suspected what would follow"

But Katie sighs softly and pinches her nose, hoping to gather her spirits. Which is not an easy thing with a terrible hangover.

"I don’t understand" Leah continues "You are all over her for weeks. How is it a bad thing?"

"I wish it was different. What if she doesn’t remember? What if she regrets? I should never have done that when she was drunk."

"You were drunk too and from what I saw, she was entirely consenting, Kat'. You are my friend and I love you but I would have stepped in if it had been the opposite"

Katie remains silent about this, she knows perfectly that Leah is right. The blonde doesn’t hesitate to tell her friends if she thinks they are wrong. This is something the Irish woman appreciates.

"Listen, get out of your tub, go talk to her. There’s no point in taking it on yourself until you know what it’s like for her."

"She’s wearing my Irish jersey" says Katie randomly

Leah laughs and Katie can’t help but smile when she hears her, a guilty smile displayed on her face.

"But why?" asks Leah between two laughs

"She was cold and at the time I found it sexy"

Katie shrugs and Leah laughs again before smiling teasingly.

"You could have kept her warm though"

"Okay, I’ll hang up now" Katie says rolling her eyes.

"Bye!" chuckles Leah before hanging up.

Katie’s smile remains a few seconds on her face, before she realizes that she really have to leave her bathroom and go to confront the young woman who is in her bed. She nevertheless takes the time to make a passage through the kitchen to recover two bottles of water, after swallowing two paracetamol and taking others for Caitlin.

Katie is a little hesitant when entering her room, wondering if the Australian has fallen asleep again. But this is not the case, still lying on her side, Caitlin has her face turned towards the door when Katie makes her entrance.

"Hey" gently makes the youngest by mechanically pushing the door with her foot.

"If we had been at my house, I would have thought you had gone home" Caitlin mutters, following her with her eyes as she drops a pill and a bottle of water on the nightstand. "Thanks"

Katie sits by her side when Caitlin sits, swallowing in turn the medicine and some water. A little silence sets in, Katie torturing her mind to know how to approach the subject. But it’s finally Caitlin who speaks, mechanically raising Katie’s gaze on her. "So... About what happened last night..." "Yeah" But Caitlin adds nothing, her eyes dipped into Katie’s, as if she were looking for answers to questions. It’s hard for Katie to tell if the striker can find what she was looking for, but Caitlin ends up speaking again a few seconds later. "Look, if you want to act like nothing happened..." "No!" Katie abruptly grabbed Caitlin’s hand. "No. I just... do you remember everything from last night?" It’s strange for Caitlin to see Katie struggling to explain things and talk to her. She is usually known to be outspoken and fearless. Today, she seems almost embarrassed. "Is that what’s got you in such a state?" asks Caitlin, gently frowning. "In part. I know that you are not necessarily at your best moral level and sincerely I would be terribly sorry if you regret this morning" "I don’t regret anything" Caitlin gently smiled, tightening her hand around Katie’s. "Yeah?" Katie smiled back When Caitlin nods and lies on the cushions behind her, Katie goes over her to lie by her side. Warm under her duvet and looking up at the ceiling, Katie is lost in her thoughts when Caitlin resumes speaking. "I lied. I think I have a regret after all" "About what?" Katie turns her head to look at Caitlin. Lying in the same position as her, Caitlin slightly turns her head to look back at Katie. The worry that squeezed Katie’s stomach loosens a little when seeing her smile. Their hands are always in each other and Katie’s thumb mechanically draws circles on Caitlin’s hand.

"These cocktails. I’ve never had such a headache."

_____________________________________________________________

Does anyone want a Part 3 maybe ?

[tiannasfanfic]

Candy

Eddie Munson x Reader (Fluff)

| Eddie & Steddie Masterlist | AO3 Link |

Summary: Eddie wakes up after a night of partying with a hangover and a weird taste on his tongue. Fortunately, you have just the thing he needs to make his mouth happy again.

Author Note: Gender neutral Reader, they/them pronouns (if any).

CW: References to recreational (and underage) weed and alcohol use; kissing.

Word Count: 632

The sun was way too bright on Monday when Eddie Munson pulled into his normal parking space at school. So bright, in fact, his eyes were squinting down to narrow slits behind his dark sunglasses. He hit the van’s brakes a little too hard as he stopped to park, which made the pounding in his head flare for a few moments before going back to a steady thud.

Normally, after waking up in such a state, he would’ve just stayed in bed to recover, but he promised you that if you left him at Reefer Rick’s Sunday Funday party last night that he would be at school bright and early this morning. While he was really regretting that promise now, he had no intention of breaking it. Eddie could be called many things, but a promise breaker was not one of them.

Considering the fact he had woken up like a pretzel in Rick’s armchair with just an hour before school started, he had no time to go home for a shower, change of clothes, or even to brush his teeth. The first two didn’t bother him since the deodorant and cologne he kept in the van for mornings like this helped cover up last nights smokable activities. But that didn’t help the taste of wet dog he had on the inside of his mouth.

Luckily, you always had some sort of hard candy on you and he still had enough time to catch you at your locker before you had to part ways for first period.

Eddie hurried into the building and made his way down the hall, carefully moving through the crowd so he wouldn’t bump into anyone and get jarred around too much. He turned down the hall your locker is on and easily spotted you and your best friend standing in front of it. The door was wide open and he watched you turn from it to hand her a piece of candy from the bag you kept in your locker, then began unwrapping one for yourself.

Eddie’s pace slowed, his eyes flicking down to watch your fingers tear through the flimsy plastic. Then they followed their path up as you brought the tiny, sweet confection to your lips. His breath hitched in his chest seeing your mouth open slightly and the tip of your tongue poke out over your bottom lip.

And then your tongue, and the candy, were gone into your mouth, replaced by a bright smile as you saw the even more wrecked metalhead approach.

“Baby, you made it-“

Your words were cut off as Eddie’s lips pressed to yours in a heated kiss. His arm snaked around your waist and he backed you up against the closed locker next to yours. Parting your lips at the feeling of his tongue sweeping across them, you slid one hand across his waist under his leather jacket, holding him closer to you. Your other hand slid up his body and around to the back of his neck, pulling him further into the kiss.

As you dimly heard the first period bell ring, Eddie swirled his tongue over yours, then swept along the inside of your cheek where you had tucked the piece of candy when he started kissing you. He found it easily and moved so it was resting on the center of your tongue, where he then sucked it into his mouth.

That was when he pulled back, kissed you on the tip of your nose and grinned.

“Thanks, sweetheart,” he said. “You always have exactly what I need.”

Without waiting for your response, Eddie semi hurried off down the hall to make it to his class semi on time.

You gawked after him, then turned to your best friend.

“That asshole just stole my candy.”

She burst into giggles as you dug another piece out of your locker, a shit eating grin on your face the whole time.

Eddie Munson Taglist: @eddie-swhore @bmunson86 @tayhar811

[ironstrange1991]

Forbidden (Part 6): Apocalypse

Pairing: Doctor!Strange x Fem!reader

Synopsis: When Stephen returns from a mission and is allowed to spend some time alone with you, he makes a discovery that he was definitely not prepared for.

Word Count: 7,5k

Warnings: Mentions of alcohol, drugs and sexual activies.

A/N: It took me 5 months to overcome the creative block I had and finally get to the point in the story that I was most looking forward to write. There's no smut yet, but I promise it's coming in the next chapter that I'm already finishing writing :)

SERIES MASTERLIST

Stephen was in the kitchen filling a cup of coffee when Wong came in and started doing the same.

"Long night?" He asked probingly and Stephen nodded, throwing a pill in his mouth and swallowing it with the help of a long sip of coffee.

"How much did you drink?" Wong asked, rummaging through the fridge and taking out what he needed to prepare eggs and bacon.

Stephen threw himself into the chair and rested his head in his hands. The memories of last night passed through him like a blur, but he was still aware that he had taken a very big step towards Y/n and now there was no turning back. Not that he wanted to go back, he was just slightly more worried now that he was sober.

"A few shots of whiskey." He responded evasively and Wong scoffed "I've seen you empty an entire bottle of whiskey and not stay in that state, Strange. What else happened last night?"

Stephen thought for a second and then decided to tell the truth "Y/n and I kissed. There could have been a mutual declaration of love. It's possible that we are together. That is, if she didn't wake up this morning thinking everything was a bad idea."

Wong didn't say anything. He dedicated himself to prepare breakfast and Stephen remained silent watching him move the frying pan, finishing preparing the eggs. He placed them on a plate and then set about frying the bacon slices.

"Do you… think that's a bad idea?" Stephen pressed, waiting for an answer.

Wong shrugged "I think Y/n is too young for you, but on the other hand, I think you should have settled with a woman a long time ago, Strange."

He dumped the fried bacon on the plate as well, grabbed two forks and placed the plate between him and Stephen and sat down. "Eat. It'll help with the hangover."

Stephen took a slice of bacon and took a bite of it, chewing slowly. "You and Sara seem to have hit it off really well." Stephen pressed.

Wong looked at him with an expression that said that it wasn't because Stephen liked to talk about his personal life that Wong liked to do the same. Stephen raised his hands in surrender, "I just want to say that you look happy, if that's even possible to say by looking at your face. Anyway, what I'm trying to say is that I want to be happy too and Y/n likes me, and I like her. That's it."

Wong continued eating as if he didn't pay attention to what Stephen was saying.

"What about Stark?" He asked after a minute of an awkward silence.

Stephen sighed, but before answering, America entered the kitchen already complaining, "Are you guys having breakfast without me? Why don't you ever wait for me for us to have breakfast like a normal family?"

Stephen raised an eyebrow "Is that what we are?"

She smacked his head. "I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that, Stephen." She went to the cupboard and grabbed her favorite cereal, a bowl and the bottle of milk from the fridge.

"Are you going to tell me what you and Y/n were doing alone in that room yesterday?" She asked mischievously while grabbing a spoon and sat down next to Wong and addressed him "Thor and I found him and Y/n alone in the lounge on the accommodations floor. There was no one there besides the two of them and Stephen's face when he saw us was hilarious."

Stephen rolled his eyes, "Okay, don't go talking about this to everyone. Only you and Wong know about it and I want it to stay that way for now. Can I trust you, kid?"

America smiled hugely, "You guys finally got it together, didn't you? Are you dating?"

Stephen couldn't help but smile. He wanted this for so long. "We can say we're getting to know each other better. Let's keep it a secret for a while."

Stephen addressed Wong "To answer your question, I will talk to Stark at some point. Not now, it's too soon. Y/n and I are still trying to figure out what exactly we are doing."

"You should take her out. Not dinner, that's so boring. Something nice, a walk in the park or something." America suggested.

Stephen finished his coffee "That's a good idea, kid. I'll think of something."

"Today is Monday, she only has the first four classes in the morning, then she is free."

Wong glanced at America "How do you know so much about Y/n?"

"Because she's my friend." America answered shrugging as it was obvious.

"If that doesn't say anything about the age difference, I don't know what would." Wong grumbled, but Stephen paid him no attention.

"Good job, kid." He praised and the girl opened a smile.

"Are you going to ask her out then?"

Stephen opened his mouth to respond but was interrupted by Wong.

"We have a meeting with the masters of the Kamar Taj today. Furthermore, you will lead the mission to find the last members from the cult of Dormammu and must leave tomorrow."

Stephen sighed but said nothing.

"You must keep your head on straight, Strange. You are a Master of the mystic arts and not a teenager in love." He completed leaving the table.

America remained serious and silent until Wong left the kitchen and left them alone, then the corners of her lips curled into a smile. "I still think you should ask her out."

"I will." He answered with a wink.

...

You left college beaming after receiving your mid-semester grades. Despite all the distractions, you achieved top marks in almost all subjects. This, according to your professor, would help guarantee your entry into the PhD course. This, of course, without Tony's help. Of course, there were also other reasons for you to be happy, one of them was the fact that your Skin & Ink magazine was finally on newsstands.

The publisher had sent you a copy the night before and you were ecstatic with the photos. You were definitely proud of the result and part of you wondered what Stephen's reaction would be when he saw them. There were definitely parts of your body on display that he hadn't even dreamed of seeing yet and just thinking about him looking at those photos made your face blush.

On the way home, you received an excited text from MJ saying that she and Peter were taking the next four days off and coming to NY and then you guys could arrange something to meet up.

I HAVE SO MUCH TO TELL YOU

You replied with a wide smile on your lips.

You were getting home when your phone rang and you were absolutely sure it was MJ, but when you dared to look at your phone screen, Stephen's name was there instead.

"Hi"

"Hi, sweetheart. Can we talk?" He asked a little apprehensively.

You stared at the back of Happy's head for a second and your eyes met in the rearview mirror. "Happy is taking me home now. Can I call you when I get there?"

"Sure. Will be waiting."

You called him back once you were safely inside your room.

"Happy isn't trustworthy. He tells everything to Pepper and Tony. In fact, Pepper is keeping an eye on me, I think she suspects something, Stephen..."

Stephen chuckled "Sweetheart, breathe. It's okay. We didn't do anything to make her suspicious."

You shook your head, throwing yourself onto the bed. "You are probably right. IT was just a conversation. I’m not used to hide stuff from them, Stephen."

"I know. You have all been a good girl. Aren't you? " He teased but didn't give you time to think in an answer. "Well, I am calling you to let you know I'll be gone for the next few days."

You felt all your excitement jumping throught the window. "Why? I mean, what are you going to do?"

"A mission with some other masters. I plan to be back by the weekend. Heard you had an important show on Sunday, want to be there for you, and that brings me to the main reason I called."

"That is?"

"I want to take you out. Anywhere you want. I just need to spend time with you, Y/n. Would you like that?"

You smiled from ear to ear, but then you frown. "Yes, of course. But a date outside... What if someone sees us?"

Stephen chuckled. "We can go somewhere far away. Somewhere where people don't recognize us."

You snorted "It's hard to find somewhere on the planet where people don't recognize the Doctor Strange, but I accept the challenge."

Stephen was silent as if thinking for a second. When he spoke again there was some excitement in his voice.

"Can I see you?"

You sat up in bed "Now?"

"You're in your room, right? Closed doors?"

"Yes, well..." But you were interrupted by the familiar hiss of a portal opening and he walked through it dressed in his blue robes and red cloak. There was a smirk on his lips that you weren't yet used to. Everything seemed like a dream to you.

He took a step out of the portal entering your room and came towards you. He held out his hand for you to hold and in a quick gesture he pulled you into his arms and kissed you.

You definitely weren't used to it, but something between the taste of toothpaste and coffee on his lips and the trembling touch of his hands on your skin made it all feel so familiar and comforting. You hummed when his tongue slipped into your mouth exploring.

It was you who broke the kiss to breathe, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks when you realized that Stephen was in your room.

"I couldn't wait until the weekend to do this." He confessed caressing your cheek lightly. "Promise me you'll take care of yourself these days while I am out."

You nodded. "Only if you promise me you'll do the same."

"Promise." He kissed you again and then pulled away and you hummed in protest. "I really need to go. Be a good girl and wait for me with this same enthusiasm."

"I will, but only if you kiss me again."

He smiled kissing you softly and walked away back to the portal he hadn't bothered to close and you heard a knock on the door. He hurried back through the portal and with a smile and a wink the portal closed and he was gone.

You were still struggling to regulate your breathing when you heard Pepper's voice calling you insistently.

"Come in" You replied, running your hand over your face and trying in vain to hide how agitated you were.

Pepper walked in and closed the door behind her and then stared at you for a long minute, finally she sighed and said what she came to say. "Y/n, we need to talk about Stephen Strange."

You feigned surprise. "What about him?"

"You think I didn't see you two last night, not to mention you two disappeared together to do god knows what."

Oh shit. "Pepper, that's absurd. Stephen is my friend." You blatantly lied. "We were talking last night. I complained about the noise and we went to a quieter place. We talked. That's all."

Pepper placed both hands on her hips, the serious expression on her face showing that she wasn't convinced at all. You noticed that she was barefoot, wearing denim shorts and a white t-shirt. "Didn't you go to work today?" You asked.

She shook her head "Tony needed me here. He and Rogers left with Fury right now, doing who knows what."

"He's going on a mission again, isn't he?" You asked, looking for an answer in her eyes. She just nodded and you sighed in frustration, but decided to change the subject.

"I received my grades today. Very good. Skin & Ink was also published today, the photos are incredible." You said.

"Tony made Happy buy the entire supply of magazines from the newsstand. He placed them all over the Tower. We're so proud of you, Y/n. I'm proud of you, I'm just worried that..."

You smile reassuringly, "Pepper, it was just a conversation. Besides, there's nothing to worry about. Stephen isn't a stranger."

"He's 24 years older than you, Y/n. Of course I should be worried."

"Really? How do you know his age?"

Pepper raised an eyebrow. Your sudden curiosity giving you away. "Tony has a file with personal information of all the Avengers."

"He's not an Avenger" You muttered.

Pepper was silent and you took the opportunity to get up and choose a change of clothes and pack your things to take a shower.

"I spoke to MJ this morning." You said changing the subject not so subtly. "She, Peter and Ned are going to come to NY. I thought we could have dinner to welcome them."

Pepper agreed, seeming to give up on the subject she was there for in the first place. "Of course. It's a great idea." She sighed "Well, I'm going to get back to work."

...

You were right about your suspicions. At dinner Tony announced that he was going on a mission and although you weren't exactly surprised, you couldn't help but feel disappointed and frustrated. You always felt that way when Tony left.

"It'll be quick this time, I promise." He said looking in your direction across the table.

"Who's going?" You asked him, but was Steve who responded.

"Tony and I will lead the mission. Clint and Rhodes will go with us."

You nodded.

"Romanoff would help a lot..." Tony whined and you could hear the frustration in his voice.

"Not an option." Nat replied. She was the first Avenger to work with Tony, they were extremely close and he trusted her more than anyone else, except maybe Rhodes. You understood why he was frustrated.

"Yeah, it's going to take Nat a good few weeks to get back on track." Clint added.

"I'm loving my forced vacation." She teased glancing at you and smirking.

After dinner you dedicated yourself to trying to compose something on the piano. You felt a lot of things that you couldn't talk about with anyone and most of your songs were born that way, but your thoughts were agitated that night, making it impossible to concentrate on anything. You were playing the keys without paying attention to the sound they were making when Tony approached.

"Can I sit with you?"

You moved to the side, giving him space on the small bench to sit.

"Pepper told me about your grades. I'm so proud of you. Sometimes I think I don't tell you that enough."

You smiled shyly remembering the conversation you had with Stephen at the party some time ago.

"I know. My advisor said that with these grades I will get the PhD course." You informed with a modest smile. Any happiness seemed to be clouded by the fact that both Tony and Stephen were going on missions and leaving you. Again.

"I know you're not happy about me having to leave again, but I promise I won't take long this time." Tony said, clearly noticing that you were sad.

"Are you going to tell me what you're going to do?" You asked, but he shook his head.

"You know I can't. The less you know, the better."

"I'm not a child anymore, Tony."

He nodded. "I know."

You laid your head on his shoulder, sighing heavily. "Sometimes I miss when you were just Tony. Before you were an Avenger."

He stroked your hair affectionately. "I know, but if we stop to think about all the wonderful people we've met, it almost make it worth it, doesn't it?"

You smirked "Yeah, I guess you're right."

He was silent for a minute before asking, "Are you okay? I've been feeling us a little distant these past few days. You know you can tell me anything."

You sighed, closing your eyes and feeling Tony's fingers running through your hair.

You wanted to tell him about Stephen, but it was too soon and you had no idea how he would react.

"I guess I've been feeling a little lonely lately." You said testing the water. "It's just that I miss having someone."

Tony nodded. "What about Mike? The guy likes you."

You shrugged. "He's not my type, Tony. I was serious when I said I prefer someone older." You said pulling away to look at him.

Tony was extremely protective of you, and you knew that the mere idea that you could date someone was a nightmare for him.

"How older?" He asked and you shrugged again.

"I don't know. Old enough for me to feel safe with him. I don't feel safe with Mike, most of the time it feels like me and the girls need to take care of him. He is nice but he's also an idiot."

Tony chuckled and then thought for a second. "You're very young, Y/n and you lost your father very early in life and although I'd like to think I've done a good job taking care of you, I haven't been able to replace him, which means there's a part inside you that miss it."

You looked at him, surprised at how easily Tony had summing up your feelings. He was just too good in reading you.

"Do you think I have daddy issues?" You joked, but you were actually worried that Tony might be right.

He made a face, clearly uncomfortable with the term you chose to use. "I think you're too young to be with older guys. You should be with people your own age, people who are at the same stage in life as you, who are still discovering themselves."

You stopped yourself from rolling your eyes.

"I think it's hard to find someone as backward as I am at my age. It's a jungle out there, Tony. You have no idea what things people my age are doing these days."

He raised an eyebrow. "Should I be worried?"

You chuckled, "Yes, but not for the reason you might think."

"This conversation reminded me of what happened at that night club, I know these things happen to anyone nowadays, but, you're my goddaughter, you need to be more careful."

You sighed heavily, trying to control yourself so as not to start a fight. That was the same speech Stephen had used on you that night. Why did they think you weren't careful? It was irritating.

"Tony, I'm going to stop you before you say it was my fault for being drugged."

"I did not say that." He replied, almost offended.

"I know, but that speech is the same one Stephen used on me that night and I don't agree with it."

"What are you talking about?"

You chewed on your lip. "I'm sure you saw the videos on the internet."

"Yeah, Strange getting you out of there, but why would he say something like that to you?"

You shrugged. "Maybe he felt obligated to give me some kind of advice, I don't know. He has America and god knows he and Wong are freaking out about her and I swear he talked to me that night like he was talking to a 14 years old teenage girl, which was almost offensive..."

Tony nodded. "He's a good guy. Annoying, but nice. And he was right. You need to be careful."

"What makes you guys think I wasn’t? Tony, all I do is be careful when I'm out. But it's tiring having to always be looking over my shoulder waiting for something bad to happen."

He sighed, running a hand over his face. "I know, but this is your life now, darling, and it's my fault, so please just tell me you'll keep being careful no matter how boring and tiring it gets."

You nodded. "By the way, you never told me what happened to that guy."

Tony smirked "Let's just say he won't repeat the mistake again."

You stared at him blankly "Oh my god, you killed him."

"Of course not. I put him in jail. And with a little influence I got him to stay there for a long time."

"That's good, I guess." That's just what you said on the subject. "I'll be more careful, I promise." You sighed.

"Great. That puts my mind at ease."

"Fury called." You were interrupted by Steve's calm voice.  "The situation has become complicated. We need to go."

Tony sighed and cupped your face. "I love you."

You wrapped your arms around him, hugging him tight. "I love you too. Be careful, okay?"

He smirked "I always do." He pulled away and then turned to look at you. "On the subject of older guys... let's finish this conversation later, okay?"

"Yes, dad." You teased watching him walk away and then leaned over the piano feeling your chest heavy.

...

It was Wednesday and you were bored, rehearsing in the small studio at Mike's parents' house for the show you would play on Sunday. The place was small, but it had better acoustics than anywhere in the Tower. Tony had suggested renovating some of the spare rooms so that you could have a decent studio and sometimes you thought about accepting, other times you were reluctant, thinking that it wasn't right to skip steps like that. You wanted to achieve that on your own merit and not with the help of your godfather's money.

You were deciding on the setlist for the show. You guys were going to play at a new venue south of the city. It was a cool place and the biggest one you had performed in so far. Ticket sales were going well and with luck you would have a full house. It went without saying that you were excited and slightly more anxious than usual.

"Four thousand people will be there on Friday. That's so incredible." Samantha said excitedly. "Remember when we used to play to 100 people?"

You just smiled in response. You remembered well the beginning of the band and how you felt out of place within it sometimes. Over time you matured, and your compositions got better, as did everything else, including your voice.

"We're still not sure if we're going to sell all the tickets." Susanne replied as she adjusted the drum cymbals.

"Are you kidding? With the free marketing from Y/n's magazine launch, we're sure to sell everything." Samantha stated giving you a wink.

"By the way, you looked beautiful in those photos, girl. I can't imagine how the magical Doctor reacted to them."

You felt heat rising to your cheeks. "I don't know if he's seen it yet. He went on a mission again."

Susanne stared at you for a second.

"You should talk to him. Pining over him from a far isn't going to help you have him, Y/n."

You sighed, deciding it was better not to tell them the truth, at least not yet. "He's way beyond my league."

You were interrupted by Mike clearing his throat exaggeratedly loudly and changing the subject in a not so subtle way.

"Hey, I'm having a party on Saturday. My parents are going to be out. I was wondering if you'd like to come."

You stared at the girls for a moment, Susanne smiled at you.

"Who is going to be there?" You asked a little worried. Mike had some weird friends and the last time you agreed to go to one of his parties, things got a little weird.

He shrugged, "The usual guys. You know."

"Same old stoner losers, he meant." Samantha replied.

"Hey, don't talk about my friends like that." Mike replied irritably. "Are you girls going or not?"

Samantha shrugged, putting the bass back in it’s case. "I don't have anything better to do on Saturday."

Susanne agreed "Yeah, that might be cool."

The three of them stared at you waiting for an answer.

You could think of a thousand times more interesting things to do instead of going to one of Mike's parties, but they all involved Stephen and he wasn't available, so you accepted with reservations. "Okay, I'll go, but I'll let you know that if things get weird like last time, I'll leave."

"Define weird." Samantha asked giggling.

...

You were slightly angrier than you wanted to admit. You knew it would be a mistake to go to that party, but you were alone and there was nothing to do. Peter and MJ stood you up and ended up canceling their visit, Tony and Stephen were god knows where and you just wanted to forget how worried you were about them.

Every time they went on a mission it was the same thing, but you still couldn't control your thoughts. You always joked that your super power was the overthinking. It made you travel to the future and see the infinite ways everything could go horribly wrong. You were basically Doctor Strange with the anxiety stone. Funny, but not pleasant.

Although you regretted going to the party, you tried your best to enjoy the moment. It was Saturday night, after all. You even drank a little, danced to their bad music, but as the hours passed and the party was coming to it's end, you found yourself sitting on the sofa in Spencer’s living room watching as Mike's stupid friends snorted cocaine and your girl friends were no way to be found.

You got up irritably and headed outside, sitting on the stairs, deciding to call a taxi to take you home. However, fate seemed to have other plans for you, as your cell phone rang and Stephen's name showed up on the screen, pulling a silly smile from your lips.

"Hi." You answered almost to quickly.

"Hello, sweetheart. I'm sorry for calling you so late, I just wanted to let you know I'm back."

You smiled to yourself. "It's not that late."

It took him a while to respond.

"What's all the noise? Is Stark having another party?"

"Not really. He went on a mission with Steve and Rhodes. They haven't returned yet. I'm at a party with some friends."

"Should I be worried?"

You bit your tongue to not provoke him, but ended up giving in.

"Two guys tried to take me to one of the available rooms, but I managed to get away from them."

"Can I come get you?" He asked and the tone of concern in his voice was almost offensive.

"I was joking, Stephen. But the party is over for me. Everyone left is either having sex or taking drugs. I was going to call a taxi to take me home.."

"I can pick you up if you want to." He offered.

"I don't know. Magic portal isn't very discreet." You responded and heard him chuckle through the phone. The baritone making your skin tingle.

"Send me the address. I'll be there as soon as possible."

Stephen parked in front of the address you gave him and looked for you among the people scattered across the lawn in small groups, but you weren't among them. He sighed checking his phone to see if you had left any messages and was distracted by a group that passed the car banging against the window and shouting "Nice car, man."

Just then he saw you coming down the stairs. He flashed his headlights to let you know it was him and watched as you walked towards the car. You wore a black flowery dress that was too short for his taste, boots and a black jacket. He realized that looking at you was different now, he didn't feel guilty anymore even though he knew he should.

You got into the car and the smell of your perfume filled his nostrils. It was too inviting and as much as he didn't want to admit it, he felt his pants getting tight around his hips.

"Nice car. How come I've never seen it before?"

He smirked "It's from another life and although is not discreet, magical portal is my favorite way to get around."

He touched your face lightly. "Come here, give me a kiss. I missed you, sweetheart."

You kissed him quickly as if you were afraid someone might see you. It bothered him, but he understood. After all, he was the one who asked you to keep it a secret for a while.

"Straight home?" He asked, hoping you noticed how much he wanted you to answer otherwise.

"I'm not in a hurry to leave. Pepper is aware that I would be late or that I would probably sleep at Susy and Samantha's house, but believe me, nothing in the world would make me spend the night there."

Stephen raised an eyebrow "Should I ask?"

"They recently discovered that they are more than friends and I would hate to spend the night listening to the two of them fucking."

"Cool friends." Stephen chuckled.

You stared at him, noticing a small cut on his cheekbone and another bruise on his forehead. "You are hurt." Your voice sounded quite worried, which made Stephen's heart flutter in his chest.

"It's no big deal. Don't worry."

You smiled sweetly at him. "Difficult mission?"

He sighed. "Tiring. But everything worked out in the end and that's what matters."

You nodded, seeming to think about what to say next. "I wouldn't mind spending time with you before I go home. If you want it too, of course. I missed you. I always do."

Stephen smiled brightly. "Tell me what you want to do."

"Can we just go somewhere quiet?"

"To my house, then." He decided, restarting the engine and driving the car slowly to avoid the people in the middle of the street. He was aware that Wong and America weren't home and that taking you to the Sanctum could only mean one thing and to be quite honest, he couldn't wait. He wasted too much time pinning over you instead of working up the courage to actually talk to you. He was determined not to waste any more time. Stephen wanted you, he wanted to make it official, claim you as his.

"By the way, nice song." You said, interrupting his train of thoughts and he smirked to himself. He was listening to U2. The Achtung Baby album was by far his favorite, and Until the end of the world was perhaps his favorite song from the album, but again, it was difficult to choose a favorite one on an album that didn't have one bad song.

 "I thought you didn't like U2." He teased.

"That's not what I said." You shrugged "I just don't know the band and the three songs I know I don't like."

"We need to fix this. Did you hear the song I recommended?"

You smiled mischievously "Not yet, but I'll accept listening to your old man songs if you accept listening to mine."

He chuckled, turning around on the avenue that would take you to Greenwich Village.

"Show me your worst." He teased and to his surprise you quickly took your cell phone and connected it to the Bluetooth and a weird song started to play. He stared at you for a moment before turning his eyes to the street in front of him, you had a playful smile on your lips that somehow took his breath away.

He couldn't help but chuckle in delight as you began to sing the lyrics of the song.

"Hidden behind merciful shadows, beyond the cruel daylight, living to hunt and kill, we are the damned children of the night..."

When he parked in front of the Sanctum entrance you were giggling, probably from his reaction to the song you were listening, and he couldn't deny that your energy was contagious. The moments he spent with you were when he felt most alive and somehow reminded him of a distant time, where he used to have musical quizzes with his coworkers in the operating room.

Stephen didn't know what his expresssions were like, but you teased him because of it. "What's wrong? Am I scaring you, old man?"

He smirked, but instead of responding to your teasing, he cupped your face with both hands and pulled you in for a hard kiss. You let out a cute hum on his lips, surrendering and letting him penetrate your mouth with his tongue, controlling the kiss like he controlled everything else in his life.

"You're going to have to do a lot more than that to scare me, young lady." He said getting out of the car and going around to open the door for you.

When you both walked in, Stephen couldn't help but notice how beautiful you looked. The street lights and the dark of the car didn't let him see you properly, but now, under the amber lights of the Sanctum's foyer he could analyze every detail from the flowery print of your dress to the way your hair was falling from your ponytail, some strands falling down your face.

He gently placed them behind your ear and kissed you again.

"Have I ever told you how beautiful I think you are?" He asked helping you take off your jacket and pulling you into the living room.

"I don't think so, but I always wondered why you couldn't take your eyes off me at Tony's parties."

 "Now you know why." He confessed watching you plop down on the couch, crossing your legs and grabbing one of the cushions and hugging it to your stomach. He handed the TV remote to you. "Show me more of your dark taste in music while I get us something to drink. Are you hungry? Something tells me there wasn't anything decent to eat at that party.”

"Not really. I just want something to drink." You responded taking the remote and turning on the TV.

"Tea, coffee maybe?" He teased.

"I think I'll need something stronger if I'm going to have to put up with your despicable company." You teased back.

He chuckled "Ouch. Be right back."

You scrolled through your Spotify playlists feeling a strange feeling in your stomach. Your eyes left the TV for a moment, looking around and wondering if Wong and America were home. You had been to the Sanctum Santorum several times, but always knowing that they were there too and You knew you were being childish, but the idea of ​​being alone with Stephen there made you nervous for reasons you still didn't know how to tell him.

When you heard him approaching you clicked play and a song by Cigarettes after sex started to play. You kept the music low and smiled to yourself realizing that it was common for couples to have a song and somehow you felt like you and Stephen had a whole band because you always thought of him when you heard that band.

"Come on, this isn't scary." He joked, handing you a glass and sitting next to you. He opened the bottle of red wine he brought with him and poured your glass and his. "I thought you'd show me more of that, whatever it was you showed me on the way here."

You smirked taking a long sip of the wine. "It's called Sopor Aeternus. They have some really good songs like the one I showed you." You bit the inside of your cheek and continued "This band always makes me think of you." You confessed gesturing to the tv screen.

He smirked, paying attention to the music for a minute. "Why is that?"

You shrugged. "I don't know, actually. But I've been listening to their music a lot."

"Does that mean you've been thinking about me a lot?"

You nodded, biting your lip. "All the time."

He smiled drinking his wine. "Post rock?"

You shrugged "I'm not sure. I've never heard anything like them to be honest. They're my comfort band."

Stephen shifted to make himself more comfortable on the couch. Only then did you notice what he was wearing. A pair of jeans and a gray shirt.

"What exactly would a comfort band be?"

"Not familiar with the term?"

He shook his head, extending his arm and indicating for you to come closer. You felt your cheeks turning red, but you took another sip of your wine and shuffled closer to him. He immediately wrapped his arms around your shoulders.

"These are things that calm you down in times of stress or that simply make you feel good, safe. I have comfort movies, comfort TV shows and so on."

He caressed your cheek. "What about me?"

“What about you?”

"Can I be your comfort person?"

You felt the feeling in your stomach intensifying and no matter how much you tried to look away, he held your face in his hands waiting for a response, but you just nodded, afraid of how your voice would sound if you tried to speak.

Stephen smiled brightly. You knew he was fully aware of his effect on you and he liked it.

"I think I liked it." He said and you looked at him without understanding. "The music, sweetheart."

You smiled widely and threw yourself into his arms, kissing him desperately. Somehow you felt like you needed Stephen's kisses to breathe, and you wondered how you survived so long without them. When you broke the kiss you both took a second to catch your breath.

"Wong and America...?"

"They stayed at Kamar Tag."

You chewed on your lip.

"Show me your favorite song of theirs." He asked.

You smiled, placing your glass on the coffee table and taking the remote to change the song. Without giving much thought to what you were doing, you stood up and extended your hand to him, "Dance with me."

He looked at you intently as if asking if you were serious.

"Apocalypse. That's my favorite song of theirs. Now dance with me."

"I don't dance, sweetheart."

You grabbed his hand and started pulling him. "There's no one here, Stephen. No one will see us. You can maintain your mysterious sorcerer pose."

He chuckled nervously, but gave in to your request, standing up and approaching you. He wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you close enough for you to feel the firmness of his chest and abdomen against your body. He was always so warm and his scent was intoxicating. You held his shoulder with one hand and held the hand he extended to you with the other and the two of you began to slowly sway from side to side to the rhythm of the song..

"I haven't done this in a long time." You admitted it.

Stephen chuckled "I thought you were the dancing type."

"Not like this. The last time was at the prom."

Stephen hummed and you felt his body slowly relaxing. There wasn't much of a secret in slow dancing, as long as you didn't step on each other's toes, you'd be fine.

"May I know who you danced with?"

"Besides Tony? Mike."

He raised an eyebrow. "Has he liked you since then?"

You smirked "I'm sure he liked me way before that."

"I can't blame him for that." He replied.

You smiled looking around still not believing where you were, who you were with and what you were doing.

"What is it?" Stephen asked, but you shook your head responding with another question.

"Can I ask you a question?"

He nodded.

"When did you find out you liked me? Romantically speaking."

He seemed to think for a second before answering and the song ended in the meantime and another one started and you continued dancing so slowly that you barely moved.

"Since I got back from the Blip" He confessed. "You just seemed different."

"Five years does that to you."

He smirked, "But you've always been beautiful. I just didn't see you like that before."

You laid your face on his shoulder so you didn't have to look into his eyes before confessing. "I fell in love with you from the moment I first saw you in the tower."

He ran his hand through your hair, delicately stroking the strands of your ponytail and then stopped abruptly which made you look at him and something in his eyes made your stomach weird in a way you had never felt before.

He grabbed your chin and pulled you to his lips kissing you hard and the next thing you knew you were back on the couch, his body on top of yours and his hands were everywhere, roaming your body, touching and groping your breasts, your thighs and moving up, but before you could even think straight you felt your body getting tense and Stephen moved his hands away, pulling away from you and clearing his throat.

Something in his gaze made you feel distant from him and that thought seemed too unbearable, so you crawled over to him, pulling him back to your lips, hoping that it would distract him from whatever thoughts were on his mind, but he pulled away gently and looked at you.

"What's wrong, sweetheart?”

You stared at him not understanding. "What? Nothing, nothing is wrong."

He didn't seem convinced. "That's the second time you've flinched like that when I touch you."

"Is nothing." You shook your head, cupping his face and pulling him back to your lips and this time he surrendered, humming sweetly in your lips and kissing you hard and desperately, but then he broke the kiss and there was something else in his eyes and you could almost hear the penny dropping in his head.

He sighed heavily, running his tongue around the corner of his mouth and without mincing words he asked. "How far did you go?"

You felt your heart racing. Your cheeks were an angry red and you felt the fire running through them.

"What do you mean?" You asked, pretending not to understand, cupping his face and kissing him hard as if somehow that could make him forget the subject, but he pulled you away gently and asked again.

"Besides kissing like that, how far did you go with a man?"

You stared at him trying to understand if he was mad at you, but you couldn't understand the expression on his face. He was serious, there was a bit of disbelief in his eyes, concern perhaps.

"I did a handjob once." You admitted, pulling away and sitting crisscrossed playing with your hands to try and calm down. You were so embarrassed.

"A handjob?" His voice sounded incredulous. "No one ever touched you?"

You shook your head and he ran his hand over his face.

"Are you mad at me?" You found the courage to ask. "I was going to tell you, I just didn't know how."

He chuckled nervously, taking your hands in his.

"Why would I be mad at you, sweetheart?"

You shrugged. "I wanted to do it, but I never met anyone who made me feel safe."

"Come here." He said pulling you into his arms and you laid your head on his chest letting yourself be enveloped by his strong arms.

"What about the handjob guy?"

"He was an idiot. Guys my age are all the same. He didn't even want to touch me when he was done. And it was disgusting."

Stephen found himself stroking your hair as he listened to you speak, his thoughts were all messed up and he didn't know exactly how to proceed. He never had a virgin. Inexperienced, yes, some, but definitely not virgins. He was terrified, the idea of ​​being your first was scary, he didn't want to hurt you, but at the same time he couldn't deny that there was a part of him that liked knowing that no one had touched you before him. But it also made him feel even more perverted than before for getting involved with someone who was young enough to be his daughter.

"Please don't give up on me. I can solve this. Some of my friends told me that they lost their virginity with toys, alone, I can..."

Stephen could hardly believe what he was hearing and had to interrupt you to explain himself. "Y/n, I'm not mad and I'm not going to give up on you. I'm surprised, that's all. I never imagined you could be a virgin, but that's not a bad thing. Not at all."

You stared at him, but just nodded. However, he lifted your chin and made you look at him.

"Now I need to ask: Have you ever..."

"What?"

He smirked stroking your cheeks with the back of his hand.

"Touched yourself?"

He watched in delight as the blood rushed to your cheeks, but your answer was firm and you sounded almost offended.

"Of course. I'm a virgin, Stephen, not a nun."

He smirked, "If you ask me, I'll tell you that I doubt nuns don't play with themselves."

You opened your mouth to respond, but slapped his shoulder instead.

"Don't be gross, Stephen."

He giggled letting himself relax now that the impact of the surprise had worn off and decided to push you a little harder.

"Do you think of me when you do it?" He asked, genuinely curious. Although he hated to admit it, he jerked off several times thinking of you, long before he imagined that the two of you could actually have something. Knowing that you had also done that in some way could ease the weight on his conscience.

"Stephen!" You scolded him, hiding your face in his chest.

"What? We need to talk about these things, sweetheart."

You sighed, building up the courage to look at him. "I do." You admitted pulling away and sitting up straight. "I bet you're having second thoughts about us right now."

He shook his head. "No, I'm not. I was surprised, Y/n, that's all. I'm sorry if I gave the wrong impression, but I'm a little lost here, I don't know exactly how to proceed now, but I was serious when I said that I'm in love with you. Nothing is going to make me lose interest, definitely not the fact that you're a virgin. It's cute, if you ask me." He smirked.

You smiled sweetly at him. "Most girls my age lost their virginity years ago. I just want to get it over with. I don't want it to be a hindrance..."

He shushed you. "No, sweetheart. We're going to do this the right way. At the right time. I don't want to rush things."

He caressed your face and kissed you softly. "When it happens, and believe me, it will happen, I want you to feel safe with me and most importantly, I want you to feel pleasure."

"Will you show me how?"

Stephen felt his stomach fluttering upon hearing those words, but he just smiled reassuringly. "I will."

Reblog please! Leave a comment if you liked it. Interact! I will love to read all of your comments and opinions. It inspires me to keep writing ;)

DOCTOR STRANGE MASTERLIST

MAIN MASTERLIST

Tag list: @doctorstrangelovemusic-blog @rachelessfreedom-world @a-tong @ppatricia34me @strangesgirls @dreamxonxx @benaddictcumberpatch @iamsherlocked1479 @veryladyqueen @notglucose @wickedscribbles @agathassscribbles @rmoonstoner @fanartka @katehawke @nicoletk @azu21 @captaincarmel416 @harlekin6 @coffedraven @withalittlehoney

@dontmindme262 @dementeddoll @yourmajesty13 @strangeions @bloodyflowerrr @insanelyobsessedwithdilfs @dragonqueen89 @newtsniffles @whiskeyho @sherlux @xourownsidee @kakashibabe02 @hobimysolecito @geeky-politics-46 @lykaonimagines @d0ct0rstrangewife @classickook @iobsessoverfictionalmen @bobateadaydreams @aphroditesdilemma @sassenach-on-the-rocks

@thealleydog @anadlockfan @pinkthick @loverofallbroken @butchers-girl @ironstrangeheart @asgards-princess-of-mischief

[fangirlingfromdownunder]

A Sweet Mishap - Chapter 13

Pairing - Jensen Ackles x Reader 

A/N: I just want to start by thanking everyone for all the love on this story so far. Here's the next chapter, I hope you enjoy. Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist.

A Sweet Mishap Masterlist | Main Masterlist

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

I wake up – still on the couch – to the blaring of my alarm at 6:30am, feeling a sense of deja vu. I curse myself for even beginning a fitness routine, even though it’s only been one day. But then I remember I have the opening shift today, and I’m actually thankful for the distraction. I quickly shove the half read and now slightly crumpled papers back in the envelope and into my backpack along with a pen. Now short on time, I slip into the first pair of clean clothes I can find and leave without breakfast. After impatiently waiting for the elevator for approximately 10 seconds I sprint down the stairs and all the way down the street to the cafe. 

When I get to the door, the sign’s already flipped and there’s a lineup at the counter. I dump my bag and don my apron as quickly as possible while apologising profusely to Stewie who’s taking orders.

“Just get to work, the order’s are stacking up already.”

I do as I’m told and start rapidly making coffees, fancy hot cocoas and plating and heating treats from the display. I hand off the finalised orders to my coworker who had been rapidly cleaning the kitchen after Stewie’s busy morning. Through fractured conversations between orders I find out that the line up started earlier than usual after word had gotten out that a celebrity had dined here before Christmas. So far though, everyone seems oblivious that I’m the woman in the photo, or if they know they are just shrugging it off as me doing my job and serving him. I’m just thankful for the lack of probing and focus on turning out order after order.

Despite bringing the paperwork with the intention of reading and signing it during my break, with the influx of fans around me think better of it. Instead, I keep my head down and focus on just getting some food into my stomach during my break. After lunch I prepare to go home, when my coworker reminds me, I promised to work a double to swap my New Year’s Eve shift. I sigh, but nod, remembering the deal I made weeks prior. I retie my apron and set about delivering orders to tables. A few keen-eyed fans recognise me from the photo but to my pleasant surprise they just ask about what he was like and what drink he had. I claim to not remember as I serve so many people, but of course I remember every detail of that day, how could I forget? 

After successfully evading questions all day and serving at least twice the normal number of customers, I’m utterly exhausted as I flip the sign. Yet, I push it aside to clean the whole cafe till it shines, still feeling guilty for being late and not helping with the early influx.

Needless to say, the paperwork is still burning a hole in my back and mind when I finally get home well after dark. Even so, I know I don’t have time tonight now. I need to spend the little remaining energy to completely finalise the plans for the Bachelorette party tomorrow night. I pull all the sashes, the dressup bridal tiara and plans out of the cupboard and lay them out on the coffee table. I organise everything in individual party bags; one for each bridesmaid and a special one for the bride herself. Each bag is complete with a sash, personalised hangover kit, and monogrammed cup in each lady’s favourite colour, along with the prepaid entry wristbands to a Moulin Rouge themed bar across town. The bride’s bag has all of that plus the tiara and a necklace with her birth stone and Future Mrs. Everhart on it. The whole event with all the gifts have me set back at least a few months in afterpay expenses – not to mention the drinks I’ll undoubtably end up buying on the night – but I know it will all be worth it when I see Stella’s face. She’s done so much for me, it’s finally my turn to attempt to return the favour. It’s after midnight by the time everything is completely ready to go. 

Knowing I’ll be out well after it crosses into the new year, I force myself to push aside everything else and get as much sleep as I can, but not before deleting that exercise alarm. I figure that until I can afford to factor in a gym membership, I can be content with taking the stairs – which I already do most days – and being on my feet all day at the cafe. I shake my head at myself; already throwing away resolutions and it’s not even the new year yet.

It's well after nine when I wake up, which is the latest I’ve slept in, in a long time, but I know I needed it. I spend what’s left of the morning going through the NDA and finally sign it. I’m about to send a text to Jensen telling him as much along with an apology, when Stella calls. I know she took a half day today and tomorrow off completely to enjoy tonight, so I just know her excitement levels are through the roof. I answer.

“Hey bride-to-be! Ready to party tonight?”

“So ready! You coming over beforehand? Since you’ve kept it all a secret I need help with what to wear!”

“Always planned to. Uber is booked from your place after all. We’re all meeting there for predrinks and then heading out, sorry I didn’t ask, but I knew you’d be fine with it. I’ll head over soon. Nick’s Buck’s is tonight too right?”

“For sure! Sounds perfect! And yep! Though, knowing him I think it’ll be a pretty chill night. Mine better not be though, it is New Year’s Eve after all!”

“We’re going all out, don’t you worry! You’re gonna love it!”

“The other girls on board?”

“100 per cent! They love it as much as I do, and I much as I know you’re going to. Now stop fishing for hints! I’ll see you soon!” I hang up before she can try to push any further. I look around for something big enough to fit the party bags in as well as my outfit for tonight. After looking everywhere I settle on the box from Jensen. I rip off the postage label to avoid questions if the other girls see it and then take out the dress. I lay it on my bed and then pack everything into the box. 

I manage on the subway with surprising ease, having managed to fit everything in a single box. I mentally thank Jensen for sending it because I really would have struggled otherwise. I sigh, he’s helping me in ways he doesn’t even know and yet I pushed him away. I quickly push away the thought, I can’t afford to think about any of that tonight; my complete focus needs to be on the bride-to-be and ensuring the best Bachelorette party she could ever dream of. 

When I finally get to her place, I can tell she’s over excited because she opens the door before I even get on the porch. She tries to take the box but I hold tight. “Not yet! You have to wait until the others get here! Patience!”

She pouts and I giggle. She lets me in and I place the box down so I can pull her in for a much needed hug. Sticking to – at least some of – my resolutions and determined to make this day completely about her, I don’t say anything, but I relish in her warm comfort. When I pull away I take the box up to the guest room to take away the temptation for her before she drags me into the master suit so I can help pick out her outfit. I’ve been in close contact with the bestman to make special plans, so I know that Nick will be leaving before us, but I still want something that will surely overwhelm him at the end of the night. I’m also looking for something that will match the Moulin Rouge theme without ruining the surprise.

I explore her closet, rifling through her dresses, most of them are business casual, but I know that she’s a partier, so I just have to find those pieces. In hindsight, I probably could have picked her up something from the thriftstore where I got my outfit – which was surprisingly brand-new with the tags still attached – but I knew she’d have something appropriate. After shifting through and discounting her simple little black dresses, maxi dresses and short clubbing dresses I find one that I’ve never seen her wear. I give her a questioning look as I pull out the stunning, red sequined dress with a mesh midrift and slit in the thigh; it’s almost identical to mine except, mine is a deeper shade of maroon and is velvet instead of sequins. I can’t believe the chances. 

“Did someone spill?” I ask as I hold the dress out to her.

“What? No? Is this a hint‽”

“When’d you get this dress then? I don’t remember it?”

“Nick and I planned to go to a fancy dress party a while ago, it was like a gala for a client I was trying to pitch, but that was when I had that terrible chest infection; lost the deal and missed the party…”

“That sucks! Well, tonight’s your chance. This is for sure the one!” I hang it on the back of the ensuite door before she leads me into the ensuite so we can both start doing our hair and make up. I turn on a party playlist to pump up the energy as I help brush and curl her shoulder-length auburn hair. She then returns the favour, curling and putting my hair into a half-up, half-down style with a bun, secured in place with silver and faux-diamonte pins. When I turn around and see her handiwork, I praise myself for buying the tiara, because she truly needs and deserves to stand out. We both then work on the base layers of our own makeup before helping eachother apply the finishing touches. 

Just as we’re almost done, Nick appears in the doorway. “Alright, ladies…Trav’s here, I’m headed out.” He comes closer to Stella and goes to kiss her but she keeps him at an arms reach.

“Don’t mess with the makeup, it’s still setting. I love you, babe. Have fun! Let loose for once!”

He shakes his head at her with a fond smile. “I love you too. I’ll try. All I ask is that you be a little responsible, but have fun.” He leans down and pecks her neck instead, respecting her wishes to not mess the makeup. Then he looks at me, “Look after her.” I nod. Satisfied, he leaves.

I check the time on my phone; half an hour till the bridesmaids arrive. “T-minus 30 minutes! Time to get dressed and accessorise!” I help her slip into her dress carefully so she doesn’t mess up her hair and makeup. She swaps out her stud earrings for a dangly set that pair with a silver diamonte necklace. When she reaches for a sparkly headband I stop her, “I’ve got that covered.”

She sits on the bed to strap on a pair of silver, glittery stilettos and then puts the essentials – lipgloss, ID, money and her phone – in a matching purse before leading me back to the guest room to help me get ready. Her jaw drops when she see me in my dress, the resemblance really is uncanny.

She wolf whistles as she makes me do a spin. “Sexy! Let me take a photo! You have to send this to Jensen!”

“No, come on, tonight’s all about you!”

Despite my protests she takes both my phone and hers and takes photos of us both while I finish getting ready, putting my maroon block heels on, swapping out my jewellery for a fancy silver set my parents got me for my birthday, and then grab the quite pleasantly matching maroon purse I found at the same thrift store as my dress. The final step is to give Stella her tiara, I place it on her head, careful not to catch or mess up her hair. We both take a few more photos in the living room, at the bride-to-be’s insistence until the doorbell rings.

Stella drops everything and runs to the door to welcome in the two other bridesmaids: Felicity and Gabby. They’re both dressed to the nines in slightly revealing short sparkly dresses that resemble flapper dresses, Felicity in Gold and Gabby in a deep blue. I’d associate them a little more with The Great Gatsby but I know they’ll fit right in anyway; I saw that style dress come up when researching and in the movie that Stella and I have watched together numerous times. We all take more photos before I hand out the fancy gift bag. After gushing over everything, Stella pops out the wine and we each enjoy a drink out of the fancy, reusable, personalised cups. We also all put on our sashes and wristbands and take evenmore photos. 

Before long the Uber is beeping out the front. We all pile in, just slightly buzzed, and joke around and converse noisily all the way to the bar. Stella’s jaw drops and she squeals the second she sees Moulin Rouge in flashing lights. “No way!”

“Yes way! I know it’s your favourite,” I tell her. She tackles me in a massive hug the second we step out of the Uber. We then flash your wristbands and ID for the security guard to skip the already growing line. Her excitement is palpable as she takes in actresses and barmaids and men dressed up in themed attires. A few men and a few ladies compliment our outfits as we push through the crowd to get closer to the dancefloor. Felicity disappears to get the first official round of themed cocktails while the rest of us dance and attempt to sing along to a DJ remix of the music from the movie.

After a few drinks I make sure Stella gets a dance with one of the professional performers and take video for her to relive it once the hangover wears off and she can’t remember a thing. The whole night, despite also getting lost in the fun, drinks and atmosphere, I manage to keep an eye on the time. It’s almost 11:30 when I start to try and move the party. I get the confirmation from the bestman that they’re also on the move, and start speeding things up.

“Another round?” Felicity asks loudly but I shake my head firmly and shoot her a warning look, trying to get her attention and remind her of the plan. Eventually she nods in understanding and stands up from the stools where we were resting after hours of dancing.

“Come on girls, let’s go get some air,” I say. Felicity joins me and Gabby finally catches on. Stella whines but obediently stands up.

“You promised me the night wouldn’t end before midnight!” she slurs, “It’s only half past 11.”

“Who said anything about the night ending? I just suggested a change of scenery.”

She huffs as we squeeze through the crowd and out onto the street. I ignore her pouting as I hail a waiting cab and show him the address on my phone, so as not to ruin the surprise for my best friend. My leg bounces to relieve my nerves as the driver swerves through the traffic. I know they’ll love seeing each other, but I also know Nick’ll be concerned about how much she’s drank. I can only hope Travis held up his side of the bargain and helped Nick let loose a little too. After what feels like an eternity of the girls trying to distract Stella, the driver finally pulls a park around the block from our destination at my request. I hope the little walk in the cold night air will help build the suspense and sober Stella up, if only a touch. I pay the driver as everyone gets out. 

We take in all the flashing billboards, advertising all sorts of music, movies and appliances. Despite living in New York for years now, I rarely come into Times Square, except for when I do auditons. Coming from a small rural townin Texas, the packed streets make me feel extra claustrophobic, but I’m willing to push past that tonight for the sake of your best friend. So, I do. The four of us walk among the crowd of people all headed towards the same destination to watch the highly anticipated yearly ball drop. 

Sure, to many it’s just a giant ball sliding slowly down a metal pole, but for many New Yorkers this is a rite of passage. Plus, what better location to secure my best friend her New Years kiss with the love of her life. I couldn’t think of anything she would love more. Thus, were shouldering our way through throngs of sweaty, drunk people – much like ourselves if I’m honest – to find the groom party at the agreed meeting place outside the Disney store.

As soon as we spot the boys, we start pushing into the middle of the closed-off street to get a better view. I watch Stella and Nick run into each other’s arms – or more like drunkenly stumble in Stella’s case – just in time for the countdown to begin. I watch in awe as the crowd calls out, counting down in time with the MC over the loudspeakers. My eyes flick between the ball, the crowd and my best friends. But as the countdown gets to one, there’s only one person on my mind.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Taglist: @stoneyggirl2 @hobby27, @n-o-p-e-never, @deansimpalababy, @winchesterwild78 @kr804573

[gaymurdersalad]

[ Hello everypony! Don’t mind the ritual robes. Dress for the job you want, ya know? And all I want to do is serve our lord and savior Godred!

I thought as a fun little thing to do in between sacrifices, I would give out some headcanons— well. These are my guys, are they headcanons? Not really. Uhm, facts, I guess— on how they do their holidays! Take ‘em or leave em, you’ll soon find I love rambling about the guys. You might regret this.

———

Peter and Caroline used to do the whole Catholicism thing, so they definitely did celebrate a good Christmas! However after the whole “disappearing for several years and coming back with a phone for a head” thing that Peter did, all faith in God was lost, but they still like to give eachother presents. The star on top of the tree is a grim reminder of a lordless plane. Except for the almighty Godred, mind you!

Steven sits alone in his restaurant with vague feelings of something or other. The establishment doesn’t even close— because why would it, it’s a Fazbender’s— so he has plenty of time to sit in an empty restaurant and think about nothing. Peter has invited him to Christmas but quoteth Steven, “That sounds great and all, but I’ve actually got my own plans.” Of which are trying to remember what the fuck a “Christmas” is and why it has any value to people other than market value. If it piques your interest at all, him and his boyfriend semi-celebrated but not really, as Steven was raised Christian {LONG since abandoned} and his boyfriend was Muslim. That’s all gone now, though, unbeknownst to the phone-man in question.

Dee spends time with the souls in the Flipside. She enjoys it very much, despite the grimness of it all. Even though she would much rather being alive and spending time with her family, she knows she has responsibilities.

Henry works. On stuff. He’s just sitting in his office right now, I could totally waltz in there and sacrifice him to Godred. Just pick that bastard up and get goin’. Oh, he’d be kicking and screaming, but he’s a midget with small hands and can’t do nothin’ against an ethereal phone creature with a complete and utter devotion to almighty Godred... Maybe after this.

Oscar doesn’t celebrate Christmas, and actually hates it. Finds every bit of Christmas decor annoying to his astigmatism and just grating anyways. Oh, fucking shit, the jingle bells never stop. Everything is annoying. He cannot enter his beloved coffee shop— Fazbucks; it’s like Starbucks but they don’t donate to stupid bullshit! The CEOs just spend the money on bribing health inspectors throughout Fazbender chains! What? No, no, they still pay their workers in faztokens— without being utterly assaulted by MIRIAH. Even if Christmas wasn’t annoying, he wouldn’t celebrate it anyways, because he’s Jewish. So is his family! Where the hell is his family? Where does— Where the hell does Oscar live, does he have a house? I- I’m realizing I didn’t get to know him that much, I think he just… Showed up here. You- Uhh, you get the point.

Dave has a ritual and has been performing this ritual for three years straight. First, he wakes up in the dumpster of the week, gets dressed, and climbs out of that disgusting sucker. Normal morning routine ensues, Y’know, he takes a couple random pills for the hangover and pops a thing of LSD if he’s feelin’ chipper, shaves with a switchblade he usually finds in the Fazbender Ballpits, and sets out onto the world. Since it is a special day— not in accordance to any religion, but to his own fucked up morals and values— he breaks into a liquor store and takes what he pleases! All assortments of liquors and cigarettes, and he stuffs them all into a duffel he usually manages to scavenge for beforehand. Once he’s a proper Santa Claus with a bag of stolen substances slung over his shoulder, he jacks a piece of shit car— he figures he’s doin’ them a favor, ‘cause who would want to own this shit box anyway?— and drives 90 to the Old Sport residence. Once he arrives, parking his car in the yard and fucking up the grass with those giant fucking tire tracks, Jesus Christ, Sportsy’s gonna have to fix that, he stomps up to the door with the duffel and knocks fifteen times with the palm of his giant fucking hand. If Sportsy don’t answer, more knocking ensues, probably followed by several obscenities and slurs. Eventually, Old Sport opens the door, and before the stout fucker can beat him with the baseball bat he stole from a bar in Las Vegas, Dave slips in and throws the bag down on the floor. Sportsy, after experiencing this for the past couple years, holds his head in his hands and groans. Loudly. Dave wraps Old Sport in this big hug, pickin’ him up off the ground all while Sportsy frowns in discontent. They spend the rest of the evening sitting on the couch boozing and watching shitty Christmas specials, and Dave crashes on Sportsy’s couch at 8 PM.

Until the arrival of Dave, Jack sits in bed. Don’t even bother to put on makeup. In the back of his head he kind of knows that the wretched purple beast will show up at his house, but he maintains a little hope that he won’t. He always does. He supposes it’s nice to have a day where Dave isn’t spending a day with him solely to recruit him into the whole kid-killing business again, but… Man, when the liquor hits, he realizes just how sad it is that his only consistent friend is a child murderer. Fuck. Once Dave crashes, Jack is usually stuck underneath him as some sort of pillow, and at this point, he’s so burnt out and sad and happy and bitter that he just lays there. Watching those shitty Christmas movies. He’s going to wake up with the worst headache tomorrow.

Legacy does not do anything special and David stopped trying to a while ago. Business carries on as usual. Maybe David would like to go out and do something or have Legacy sit still for one measly second so he could give him some kind of gift, but knowing the Orange Bastard, he’d likely reject it or throw it out. Maybe spending time with Legacy is a gift in of itself, David thinks, incorrectly.

———

Was that everyone? There are so many of the guys! Good lord, half of them are maniacs too. I couldn’t be prouder!

Well, I’ve got some sacrificin’ to do! Goodbye! Remember: Godred Loves You! ]

~ Mod Chribs

[bullet-prooflove]

The First Month: Beau 'Cyclone' Simpson x Reader

Tagging: @chickensrule @iwannabeinthesequalmrghostface @justameresimp @lxaah11 @librarian1002 @littlebadariell @imaginecrushes @luckyladycreator2 @emersxn99 @flrboyd @nani-kenobi @areamir @b-bradshaw @adaydreamaway08 @beausimpson @crimeshowjunkie @crazy4chickennuggets @kmc1989 @oureternalbond  @shepgurl @ashcosmo @inkandarsenic

Deployment!Series:

Propriety (NSFW) - All thoughts of propriety goes out of the window when Beau finds you in his office.

Rumours - Beau doesn't realise there's a rumour about him.

Disengage - Beau discovers your secret.

Stalemate - The stalemate between you and Beau breaks when he recieves some news.

Absence - Beau misses you.

The first month is always the hardest. The scent of your shampoo still clings to your pillow, flooding his senses when he tries to sleep. He decides to wash the sheets, get a fresh start and instead finds himself mourning the loss. The house feels empty without you in it, your presence slowly fading from his existence. 

It’s like this in the beginning, a constant stream of sadness and agitation. Communication is always spotty during this time, your messages sporadic, coming through at odd times of the day. The distance stretches and Beau feels restless and out of sync.

He plans to spend the weekend burying his head in work, but his plans are interrupted at 8pm in the evening when Warlock turns up at his door followed by Maverick and several other members of the Dagger Squad.

Poker night, Warlock informs him as chaos rains down on his kitchen. It’s a flurry of noise and activity. Bob, Rooster, Phoenix and Hangman are all shit talking each other as Maverick sets up the poker chips with a smile on his face. Beau knows their Captain is going to wipe the floor with them. He’s seen him in the field, that man doesn’t blink. Already they’re in his cupboards, removing glasses, seeking out plates and dealing hands. Beau likens it to when your nephews come over and invade the place, they’re in and out of everything, running around being boisterous.

“Ally set this up?” He asks Warlock, his palm rubbing across his jaw.

The other man inclines his head and Beau sighs because you know him far too well. He struggles the most during that first weekend, there’s always an abundance of free time and he never knows what to do with himself. He gets stuck in his own head, trapped in that destructive emotional cycle.

When he steps into the kitchen, he picks up the bottle of whisky Rooster brought and scowls at the label.

“I’ll get the good stuff.”

The night devolves after that, into a haze of cigar smoke and bourbon.

***

Beau wakes up the next morning with a pounding head and a scratchy throat from the cigars. He’s barely taken a sip of his coffee before his doorbell rings, and he’s greeted by Jake clad in athletic wear with an enthusiastic Belgian Malinois called Cujo. My partner’s K9, he reminds Beau, because they apparently, they spoke about that last night when he agreed to go running first thing in the morning. He has no memory of the conversation.

It's a slog, Beau feels fucking terrible for the first couple of miles. It’s only when he gets past the third one that he starts to feel anywhere normal. He manages to keep pace with Jake and Cujo the rest of the way around the track before he makes it back to the house with an invite to a cookout later that afternoon.

“I’ll see if I can make it.” He tells Jake.

He realises he has no choice when Warlock turns up on his doorstep with a cooler full of steaks. Beau snatches up another bottle from the drink’s cabinet, before heading out because his mama raised him right and it isn’t polite to turn up to a gathering without a gift.

He spends the evening sipping Diet Coke and playing tug with Cujo, because he can’t face another hangover and once that dog takes a liking to you, there’s no chance of being left alone. The same can be said for the Daggers, he’s barely had a second to himself and he’s grateful for it. He finds himself sitting on the porch at the end of the night, the sun setting in the distance and the air cooling.

Jake drops down beside him, his palm running over Cujo’s head as the dog rags at the toy in Beau’s hand.

“Thanks.” Beau says distractedly, tightening his grip on the rope. “For this morning, and for tonight.”

Acknowledging his feelings doesn’t come naturally to him, neither does admitting he needs a little help. The people around him though they see it, they give a shit about him and about you. He thinks it was show and tell that did it, he gave them insight into his life outside of his position and he became a person instead of just another officer. They adopted him after that, he became part of their pack.

Noone talks about how isolating his job can be, you’re trained not to show weakness, to hide your vulnerabilities. You manifest that prerogative, make it a part of yourself. That’s who he is when you’re not around, it’s his survival technique. This weekend has shown him he doesn’t need to be like that, that he has a support network, that he can lean on other people if he needs to.

“Anytime.” Jake says, his elbows resting on his knees as he gazes out across the garden. “Can I ask you something?”

“That depends on what it is.” Beau says, inclining his head towards the other man to show that he’s listening.

“How did you know?” Jake asks him, his eyes coming to rest upon his partner Jenna as she stands in the midst of a conversation with Rooster, waving her hands animatedly as she laughs.

Beau doesn’t need any context, he knows what’s being asked. It’s the first time he’s thought about you over the past couple of hours and he feels a pang in his chest because it’s only been a few days, but he misses you so fiercely he aches. The silence stretches on as he considers his answer.

“We took a trip once, up to her sisters. She used to have this beaten-up old car, a real junker. It drove me crazy; I was terrified it would break down somewhere in the middle of the night and she’d end up stranded.” He tells Jake, shaking his head at the memory because he really fucking hated that car. “Anyway, we’re on the way back and it is pouring down with rain, I can barely see three feet ahead of me and the tire blows. It sent the car into a spin. I swear I thought the both of us were going to die…”

He remembers that moment, the panic that rushed through his nervous system as he gripped the wheel so hard, he had the indentations imprinted on his skin in the aftermath. He knew what to do in a situation like that, slide the gears into neutral, steer into the skid but he saw that tree coming up on your side and the thought of what could happen…

It had scared the living shit out of him.

“I managed to get it under control before we hit the tree, but I have never felt fear like that. I didn’t give a shit if something happened to me but to her…” he trails off because even now the thought feels too terrible to consider. “I proposed to her there and then because I couldn’t stand the idea of not having her in my life, she means too much to me. I’d been thinking about it for a while, but that really solidified it.”

“It happened to me.” Jake says quietly as he sips from his beet bottle. “When my plane almost went down a few days ago, before I passed out, I just had this regret sitting in my chest. I should have asked her; I should have taken that step.”

“And yet you haven’t.” Beau points out.

“You’ve read my file.” The young Lieutenant says, and Beau knows what he’s talking about. In care from the age of seven because his parents were a couple of meth heads, straight into the Navy in the aftermath. He has fought and clawed his way up the ladder to get where he is. He can’t imagine the emotional toll that must take on a person, to live your formative years being unloved, unwanted.

Don’t come to me looking for a father figure, he wants to say. I don’t know any better.

His own was a gambler, who threw away everything including his marriage and his family. Beau hasn’t spoken to his dad in years, he has no idea where the other man is and that’s the way he likes it.  

However now there’s this kid sitting next to him, one that’s looking for guidance and Beau realises at some point Jake has become one of his people. Someone he actually gives a shit about.

Fuck… he thinks. When did that happen?

“You’re past is not your present.” Beau tells him. “And it is certainly not your future.”

He thinks of you, how far you’ve come from that girl who thought she was going to live and die in a mining town in Idaho. The one whose parents were convinced she was going to marry the boy next door and spit out a couple of kids. You’d had no future and no opportunities until that Navy Recruiter had come through. He can’t imagine the life he would have lived if he’d never met you.

“You deserve to be happy Jake, and Jenna makes you happy.” Beau says frankly. “It doesn’t have to be more complicated than that.”

Jake nods his head, his thumb chasing over the label of the beer bottle in his hand.

“Thank you.” Jake utters, before taking a sip form his beer bottle. “I mean it. Shit like this, it’s hard for me to talk about.”

“Yea, I know a thing or two about that.” Beau says, rubbing the space behind Cujo’s ears that makes the dog’s tail wag. “Things weren’t great before Ally left, I wasn’t around…” He trails off.

“The mission.” Jake says knowingly.

“Yea.” Beau says frankly before pausing. “I feel like I wasted the time she was here by being mad at her over the deployment. By the time I got my head on straight I was already shipping out. We haven’t spoken much since then, the signal’s spotty out there. I wish I could tell her that I’m sorry, that I love her, that I’m proud of her for taking this step for the two of us. For doing what I couldn’t.”

“Do you think she doesn’t know what already?” Jake asks him, setting his beer down on the decking alongside of him. “The two of you have been through what four of these since you’ve been together?”

“This is her fifth.” Beau tells the other man, leaning back as he watches the sun start to disappear beyond the horizon.

“Fuck.” Jake says, his elbows come to rest on his knees as Cujo wrenches the toy from Beau’s hand and lopes towards Jenna to show off his prize. “My point is you’ve got through it before; you’ll get through it again.”

“Yea.” Beau says as he watches the dog drop the toy at Jenna’s feet. “Let’s hope so.”

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Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[wishbonetea]

as a birthday present to myself and in celebration of getting new content for the first time in YEARS (nora i owe u my life), i'm posting the first sneak peak of Of Smoke & Bone Part II: Of Fear & Fury!

Full sneak peak under the cut.

Read the fic on AO3 here!

Of Smoke & Bone In general, Neil Josten managed to keep his two lives in balance. On the one hand, he was a nineteen year old art student in Prague with a part-time job in a mostly-normal coffee shop. On the other, he, Allison, and Renee worked for an inhuman creature, running errands in exchange for wishes. For the most part, these two lives rarely intersect. But it’s fair to say that the Foxes bring their own brand of trouble, and Neil’s two lives soon start to collide.

The first thing Dan registered when she woke up—the first thing she always registered when she woke up—was Matt’s arm wrapped around her waist and the warmth of his breath against her chest. She blinked fuzzily at the ceiling, trying to rid the awful taste in her mouth with her tongue. Despite the warmth of Matt’s arm and breath, it didn’t quite cancel out the throbbing headache that kept her just out of comfort’s reach.

She missed the days of waking up after a night of drinking without a hangover. She was only twenty-three years old but she already missed the days of her youth. Back then, she could wake up and get back to work no matter what happened the day before. Now, she had to deal with the consequences of her actions, and it sucked. She let her eyes fall closed again and it didn’t take her long to drift back into dreams.

When she woke again, it was to the vibration of her phone on her bedside table. She blinked until her eyes finally focused and tried to reach for it without waking Matt. It didn’t work, and her stomach turned at the movement. When Matt grumbled something incoherent as he rolled onto his side, she made a gentle shushing sound. Dan waited until her nausea subsided before trying to sit up. After grabbing for the phone, she wound her arm back around him to read over his shoulder. Matt’s only response was to tug at her arm until she wound it tighter around him, and he snuggled back against her chest and under the duvet. She pressed a kiss into his hair, and it still smelled like the branded gel he insisted was better than the cheaper alternatives. Matt was born into money, and there were some habits he couldn’t shake even when budgeting as a student.

She struggled to read the notification through her eyelashes since the screen was far too bright for a Sunday morning, yet even when she could read it clearly, it took several moments of fumbling through memories until she processed what the words meant.

@TheKathyFerdinand: Painter Kevin Day talks to us at @RAYLEIGHMAGAZINE about his departure from @EdgarAllanUniversity, finding his feet at @PSUoftheArts, and his first solo exhibition. Read the full interview here.

Of course. The interview.

The interview that was supposed to be Kevin’s re-debut and—what Dan had hoped—PSUA’s big introduction to the world outside of Prague. She knew better than to hope for no slip-ups, but she hadn’t anticipated Neil turning on Riko like that. Riko was the kind of man who’d let his popularity go straight to his head, and the worst part was that until she found out what he had done to Kevin, she had thought he deserved his popularity. Riko’s art was exceptional, so he had the right to be a little arrogant, she’d thought. Until Kevin came to PSUA, she’d even been glad that a man like Riko existed. She’d been thrilled that two men of colour were dominating the art scene in London like Riko and Kevin were. A part of her was still glad. Riko’s behaviour and attitude were unforgivable, but he still served as a good role model to kids that looked like him.

Right up until Dan remembered Wymack telling them about Riko’s connections with the fucking mafia.

She didn’t know what to think of that yet, and her current state of mind wasn’t the best state of mind to think about it for too long. She pushed it from her thoughts and pretended she didn’t know what she knew. It wasn’t going to solve anything in the long run, but it would have to do until she had a chance to talk to Wymack about it in more depth.

Reading Kathy’s article did wonders to refresh her memories of the interview. Dan had known that Kathy would draw attention to Neil’s cutting criticism of Riko and Edgar Allan, but her report made Riko’s icy entitlement look like he spent weekends at soup kitchens and environmentalist protests. Kathy had called Neil a spitfire in person, but the Neil she had written was more like a bomb going off, obliterating anything in its focus.

So all in all, Kathy’s interview hadn’t exactly been kind to Neil, but she had certainly paid attention to what Neil had said.

“Matt,” Dan hissed. “Matt. Wake up.”

“What?” he mumbled.

“Kathy Ferdinand posted her interview with Neil and Kevin.”

“What?”

“Here. Listen. ‘When I asked Riko Moriyama to join me in Prague for Kevin’s first solo show—not only since leaving Edgar Allan, but ever—I thought Kevin would appreciate the surprise. Yet when Riko entered from behind the scenes, so to speak, it seemed that I was the one in for a surprise. You’ll be surprised to know that last night’s exhibition was the first time Riko and Kevin had spoken since Kevin broke his hand in a skiing accident last month (you can find more details in January’s edition, Peonies Fall For Kings, available here). Yet it wasn’t the heartwarming reunion I was expecting. Instigated by Kevin’s new friend and potential collaborative partner, Neil Josten, Kevin soon revealed that he wasn’t intending on returning to Edgar Allan when his hand heals like we all presumed. Even Riko believed that Kevin was only to stay in Prague temporarily. The works on display were all paintings Kevin had made during his time here in London, but he certainly hinted at plans to start afresh. And it doesn’t seem that Riko is holding onto the past either. When questioned about his plans for the Ravens to continue recruiting in Europe, Riko told me that the Ravens hadn’t altered their schedule for Kevin’s injury and had no intention to do so in the future. Riko believes that Kevin has been left behind, but that he’s ready to welcome his brother home when Kevin is recovered once more. It seems that Kevin, however, had discussed his plans for his future with his new friends in Prague. Neil didn’t sound surprised that Riko expected Kevin to return to London, but was confident that Kevin had nothing to return to. Neil’s quick defence of Kevin reminds me of the earlier days of Riko and Kevin’s partnership, back when the media speculated that such a pairing would hold the two young artists back. It makes me wonder whether Kevin has founded a replacement art collective to rival Edgar Allan’s Ravens, and I personally cannot wait to see what comes of it.’”

“Shit,” was all Matt said.

Dan huffed a laugh. “Yeah. Shit.”

Matt rolled over to face her again and buried his face into her neck. “You need to send that to Neil,” he said between planting kisses that tickled her skin. “He’d freak.”

Dan was momentarily distracted by the roughened timber of his voice to process his words. She paused. “Oh my god that’s so funny, freak? Or, Oh my god we’re all gonna die and I’m gonna flee the country, freak?”

“Neil wouldn’t flee the country.”

“Neil would definitely flee the country.”

Matt rolled onto his back and Dan watched as he blinked up at the ceiling and waited for his vision to focus. He scrubbed the sleep from his eyes to speed it along and turned his head to look at her. He looked as awful as she felt. She’d been the one to suggest they go to The Foxhole Court for a few hours, but there was no way the Foxes wouldn’t turn ordering in into a small party. They’d put away most of two bottles of vodka even without Neil and Renee helping them. Dan hadn’t been counting but it looked like Kevin almost had one all to himself. She didn’t blame him, considering what had happened, but it reminded her too much of Matt and Seth’s own addictions for her to feel entirely at ease with it.

“Okay, yeah, he would. But only for a week,” Matt eventually said. “He’d come back.”

“Plus,” she added, tangling her socked feet with his, “we know too much.”

Matt laughed at that. “Yeah. All that blackmail material like how he takes his coffee and what his favourite colour is.”

She prodded his chest. “Hey. That took me six weeks to get out of him.”

Matt pulled her into his side. “I know. It took me seven to get him to admit he liked cats.”

Dan huffed a laugh and raised her phone to her face once again, copying the link from the article and sending it to the Foxes’ group chat. Even though Matt was right next to her, and had already made his opinion known, he still tapped out a reply.

Dan sent a link Mattata: i’m gonna print and frame that Mattata: that belongs on the wall DamnWilds: i think we need a social media channel for us DamnWilds: look at the comments DamnWilds: ever since @im fine roasted riko to shit people wanna know who we r DamnWilds: weve got everyones attention but if we play this right we can keep it DamnWilds: if we film us working and do interviews with the student mag people might root for the underdog Catty Bitch: how can you encourage @im fine to open his mouth in public? he does bad enough 1-1 im fine: I’m not that bad. Catty Bitch: sweetie do you even remember yesterday The Gay Cousin: neil might not remember it but riko sure does Mattata: neil made riko look like a stupid asshole who sells out friends on a daily basis

Matt continued tapping something on his phone even though Dan could see the three typing indicators on the group chat weren’t showing. After a second or two he sat up and shuffled to the end of the bed, reaching over to the bluetooth printer perched on the edge of the desk. After turning it on, and waiting for it to make its usual grumbles of life, Dan heard the typical squeaks of something being printed out. She watched in curiosity until Matt lifted two sheets of A4 paper with a PDF of the article.

“I’m serious,” Matt said. “This is going on the wall.”

He was referring to a stretch of wall in The Foxhole Court’s staff lounge that had been covered in photographs of the team. Some of them were official: photographs of Wymack and Abby with famous people who had somehow stumbled in since the café opened in the nineties, and photographs and snippets of articles clipped from newspapers and local magazines. The majority of the pictures, however, were taken by Dan and Seth. These were scattered everywhere and anywhere they could fit and were held up with blutack and tape. One entire corner was a clump of photos of the Foxes turned into memes.

Dan grinned. She opened her mouth to reply when her own phone started ringing. She expected it to be Allison or Renee but was surprised when Wymack’s contact was displayed. She hit the green answer button and put him on speaker.

“What’s up?” she asked.When Wymack spoke he sounded weary and she felt heavy stones lay to rest in the pit of her stomach. “Get everyone down to Court, would you? We need to talk.”