#anyway I think John Green has come into his own I’ve liked him for a while now

[petrichorium]

Yk what I have had a staunch “John green was annoying way back when and I’m not particularly saddened that he left tumblr (tho his greatest crime was cringe and he most definitely did not deserve the harassment)” stance for years but genuinely? I think I like him now. Putting him in my “celebs who get to sit with us” pocket along with Lynda Carter and Wil Wheaton

[smileysuh]

Love Plug

🌙 starring. Johnny Suh x afab!Reader

🔮 preview. “The only things Johnny’s horny for are things that come in green: money and weed. He doesn’t date, babes, and you two are on a date.”

tw/cw. weed/drug use, shotgunning (kissing after John's taken a hit from a joint), reader likes wine, alcohol, plug!Johnny, unprotected sex, oral (f/m receiving) face riding, big dick john, 69-ing, size kink, grinding, multiple reader orgasms, fingering, pussy stretching, dirty talk, praise, ass groping, hand job, creampie/filling kink, cumming together, etc… I pet names: (hers) angel, sweet thing, good girl

👹 rating.18+ explicit I wc. 7.9k

🍭 aus. plug/drug dealer!Johnny, semi-strangers to lovers, Valentine's Day, etc…

☀️ mlist + an. I know this is slightly late, as it's Valentine's Day themed, but I hope ya'll like it anyway! big thank you to @sehunniepotwrites, my beta reader, my fellow John lover, my bestie- Love you girlie, thank you for helping me edit this to get it posted on time 💕

Being alone on Valentine’s Day is never fun. It would be one thing if you were with your girlfriends, but today, you’ll truly be alone. Everyone is busy, people are working, or with significant others- you feel like you’re the only person without plans, and it’s driving you completely insane.

Your apartment is spotless, you’d gone on a cleaning bender to distract yourself from today’s date, but as three o'clock rolls in, you find yourself sitting on your couch and staring at the ceiling.

There’d been a time in your life when boredom would make way for addictive traits. Dopamine-filled hobbies that you’ve since done your best to squash. But as three becomes four and you have nothing to satiate yourself - not even the pink bottle of wine in your fridge has been able to drown your loneliness - you begin to consider more drastic measures.

You’d never been a stoner, per se, but you’d gone with your cousin a few times to pick up from her run-of-the-mill dealer. If anything can help you relax and watch a movie, you think it might be some Grade A Indica. 

Unknown number: Hi John, are you out today?

John: define out. Who is this

Unknown number: shit

Unknown number: my cousin gave me your number, I’ve picked up from you a few times

Unknown number: You probably don’t remember me but my name is y/n

John: I remember you

John: how much do you need?

Unknown number: I’m thinking $100 worth?

John: I’ll bring my shit. Text me your address and I can be over within the hour

Usually, when your cousin has gotten in contact with John, he comes to her apartment and the two of you go outside, filing into his truck. He has a duffle with jars full of weed, shatter, and the like. You give him money and he helps you decide what your night is going to look like.

When John calls you half an hour after you’ve texted him, you’re already almost at your door. “I’ll be down in a sec,” you tell him, searching for your keys.

“How about you buzz me up instead?” he suggests. “I’m outside the front door.”

You freeze for a moment. As far as you know, John’s never come up to your cousin’s apartment, and the idea of inviting the sexy local plug up into your one bedroom is sketchy… but at the same time, you’re feeling kind of desperate. 

“Okay, type my apartment number into the keypad and I’ll let you in. The elevator will take you to my floor.”

You hang up, and a moment later your phone rings again. You press the buzz-up key and hold your breath.

You’re not sure if you’re scared of being alone with John because he’s a drug dealer or if you’re frightened of your own lack of self-control. John’s one of the sexiest men you’ve ever seen and this is Valentine’s Day. You’d been planning on maybe getting a little high, pulling out your vibrator, and having a good time with yourself… but if you could have a good time with him…

You give your head a shake, reaching for your bottle of wine. You pour the last bit of it into a cup, lifting it to your lips while you wait for the local plug to arrive at your door.

When he knocks, you practically jump, heart lurching in your chest. You scurry to your door, not wanting to make him wait- not wanting any of your neighbors to see the tall, sexy, tattooed man standing outside your home.

John greets you with a grin. “Special delivery,” he jokes, stepping past you and into the apartment and looking around. “You’ve got a nice place.”

“Thank you.” 

You watch him head into the living space. He walks as if he’s been here before, as if he belongs here. The duffle makes a thumping sound when he nonchalantly sets it onto your small dining table, but John doesn’t immediately open it to show you the product like he does when you’ve bought from him before.

“Is it just me, or does it feel kind of sad in here?” John asks, turning to look at you.

“Hmm?” 

“I just mean…” he gestures around, “spotless house, a pretty girl alone on Valentine’s Day… you haven’t bought from me in a while, sweet thing, I kind of thought you’d quit.”

“I did quit-” you stutter, “I mean… I was never a huge stoner or anything, so I wouldn’t say I quit-”

John grins while watching you search for an explanation. He leans back, palms flat on the dining table. The black v-neck he’s wearing shows off some of his chest piece and the tattoos on his neck are definitely a distraction as you try to formulate words.

“Look, all I’m saying is… I’d hate for you to lose your sobriety streak because you’re feeling lonely on Valentine’s Day.”

“I’m not exactly sober,” you scoff, reaching for your glass of wine.

“Is that a rosé?”

You look down at the liquid. “It’s a pink strawberry sparkling wine.”

“Sounds nice. Give me a taste.” He holds out a hand, and it’s clear that it’s more of a demand than a request, so with a sigh, you hand your cup to the local plug.

John swirls the glass, then he lifts it to his lips. He doesn’t sip, doesn’t take his time, he simply tilts his head back and downs the wine in two large gulps. When he’s done, he wipes his hand across his mouth, grinning mischievously. “Yummy.”

“That was the last of it,” you groan. “Now I have to hit the liquor store too.”

“Is it usual for you to get crossed, sweet thing? Weed and wine? You must really be feeling some type of way today.”

“So says the drug dealer working on Valentine’s Day.” You roll your eyes, annoyed that he’d downed your whole glass and isn’t cutting to the chase of your transaction.

“Ouch,” John laughs. “When did you get such a mouth on you?”

“Since you just drank an entire cup of wine in two seconds and started talking about my sobriety streak- are you going to sell me some weed or not?”

“For a girl with nowhere to be, you sound like you’re in a rush,” John muses. “You want to get me out of your home that badly, huh?”

“I mean, I would have preferred meeting you at your car,” you admit.

John simply shrugs. “And I wanted to see how dire your situation was. Clearly, it’s pretty fucked. Listen, we can still go down to my car if you want.”

“Will you sell me the weed if I go with you?”

“Nah, but I can take you out for a drink instead.”

His words hang heavy in the air, and your mind does mental gymnastics to make sense of the suggestion. 

Is he asking you out? 

Finally, you ask, “Aren’t you working?”

“The good thing about being your own boss is you can always say fuck it, I wanna go to a bar,” John points out. “So are you going to come with me and let me distract you better than weed would? Or are you going to mope around here with no wine, no weed, and no sexy plug to make you feel better?”

You definitely have a sexy plug or two hidden away under your bed that could make your day better- but you don’t tell John that. Instead, you let out a sigh. “I guess I have nothing better to do.”

“That’s the spirit, sweet thing, now let’s go on an adventure.”

The place he takes you to is a complete dive. It’s a dark ambiance, and as you settle onto a bar stool, you notice the stickiness of the counter in front of you. John, however, seems completely at home here. He doesn’t mind the alcohol-stained wood, leaning over it to speak to the bartender over the loud rock music that plays through the establishment. “Two shots of the regular,” he announces.

“You got it, Johnny,” she laughs, turning to grab a bottle of whiskey from one of the higher shelves.

“So I guess I don’t have to ask if you come here often,” you breathe.

“And I don’t have to ask if you’ve been here before. You stick out like a sore thumb, sweet thing. Relax a little.”

You let out a sigh. “Are we really going to do whiskey shooters?”

“I’m buying so I’m choosing,” John insists. “But if you want a cocktail or something, you can get that too, on me.”

So instead of taking your money today, he’s spending his money on you.

John is an enigma, and the confusion you feel has you more curious than ever.

“So how’d a guy like you get into your line of work?” you ask.

“He’s eighteen, gets stupid tattoos on his neck and hands, is rejected from other lines of work, and then discovers he has a talent for growing the best weed in town,” John responds. “Although, between you and me, I’m pretty good at growing orchids too.”

You had not pegged him as a plant guy. He’s always seemed so one-dimensional, and you realize now that your stereotype of him had been wrong. You’d never have thought John was the one actually growing the product he sells, and the idea of him nursing an orchid - a famously difficult flower - has your heart softening.

The bartender returns, setting two shots in front of you and John. “How’s your day going, Hyuna?” John asks, picking up a conversation with her.

“It’s going,” she sighs.

“Ouch, that doesn’t sound good,” John muses, pushing one of the shooters in front of you. “I thought you were seeing that new guy- the finance bro. Figured you’d be with him today.”

“I’m not sure he’s the commitment type.” Hyuna brushes her long dark hair over a shoulder, looking between you and John. “Besides, someone has to run this lonely hearts club here. You’re ruining the single vibe by bringing a date.”

“My bad for not introducing her, by the way,” John grins. His arm comes around the back of your chair, and he pulls you closer. “This is sweet thing, I’m saving her from making bad decisions today.”

“Yeah? And how are you doing that?” Hyuna laughs.

“By substituting one drug for another.” John picks up his shooter, turning to you. “To bad decisions.”

With a sigh, you grab your own shot, lifting it to clink against John’s. “To bad decisions,” you echo.

The whiskey is like fire as you shoot it, and you have to do your best not to sputter from how bad it tastes. You feel your face scrunch up involuntarily, and it earns laughs from Hyuna and John.

“I think we can all agree Johnny’s taste in alcohol is a bad decision,” Hyuna muses. “What can I get you, sweet thing?”

You order your drink of choice. John asks for three more shooters. When Hyuna sets them all down in front of you, John holds one out to her. “This one’s for you. I’m sorry it’s not working out with finance bro.”

Hyuna assesses the shot, then, with a groan, she grabs it. “I shouldn’t be doing this.”

“No one’s gonna care,” John insists. “And we both know your manager is in love with you. Just take the shot, babes.”

Hyuna rolls her eyes and downs the drink. She sets the glass down, her perfectly manicured black nails dragging along it momentarily. “You and your annoying tastes.”

“You’ll learn to love this,” John assures her. “You learned to love me, right?”

“After I got over how annoying you are.”

John only laughs. He downs another shot, bringing his total to three. Then he stands up abruptly. “Vape break,” he announces. “You girls better not have too much fun without me.”

You watch him leave, sipping on your cocktail. 

“So how did you two meet?” Hyuna asks, half turning to remove some glasses from the washer so she can polish them while you chat.

You lean forward, whispering, “He’s literally my plug.”

“John’s everyone’s plug,” Hyuna laughs.

“How about you? He’s a regular?”

“Yeah, but I also dated his sister once upon a time,” Hyuna explains. “He was her annoying kid brother. I did my best to be nice to him but things didn’t end so well with her- then three years later he came in here, all tattooed and wreaking of weed- He recognized me right away, and he’s been coming in here ever since. Tips good too.”

You’d been wondering about the specificities of their relationship. Hyuna’s gorgeous, like- one of the prettiest bartenders you’ve ever seen. Her lean arms are covered in intricate tattoos, her nails are filed to points, her hair is perfect, her cheekbones are prominent and her lips are puffy like pillows-

Who wouldn’t have a crush on her?

“He’s an interesting guy,” you muse finally.

“Don’t let his tattoos fool you,” Hyuna says, meeting your eye. “He’s a sweetheart. He just likes to look all tough because of his job.”

You consider what she’s just said.

“So…” your throat feels a little dry. “Does he often come in here with girls?”

“Never. And especially not on Valentine’s Day.” Hyuna sets a cup down, leaning over the bar top to get a good look at you. “So tell me, sweet thing, what’s the end goal here?”

“Hmm?”

“Johnny might be an annoying plug, but like I said, he’s a good guy. I’m not dating his sister anymore, but he’s still like a kid brother to me. I don’t want to see him get hurt.” There’s a beat of silence. “He’s giving you heart eyes, and he let you choose your own drink. John doesn’t even let me choose my own drink once in a blue moon when we go out. He’s also never cared about what drugs I do, so why does he care so much about you? What makes you so special?”

“I…” you set your cocktail down. “I really can’t answer that.”

Hyuna cocks her head, pursing her lips. “Girl to girl, don’t be a bitch to him. I’m the one he’s going to come crying to if you reject him really hard. Let him down softly, if you have to.”

“Honestly, girl to girl, I don’t even know if he’s into me that way.”

“Sweet thing,” Hyun scoffs, “you must be blind as a bat. Don’t you see the way he’s looking at you?”

“I sort of thought he was just horny for Valentine’s Day.”

The bartender lets out a barking laugh. “The only things Johnny’s horny for are things that come in green: money and weed. He doesn’t date, babes, and you two are on a date.”

Your lips part to respond, but the door to the bar opens and John comes back inside. He lumbers over with a grin, taking the seat next to you. His arm slides around the back of your chair and he leans forward, looking between you and Hyuna. “So what did I miss?”

“Nothing important,” Hyuna lies. 

“In that case, I think I’m going to order a-”

“You’re aware that at some point I’ll have to take your keys away, right?” Hyuna raises a brow at John. “I just gave you three shots, you have one sitting in front of you still-”

“We both know I’m a heavyweight,” John insists.

“Sure you are,” Hyuna rolls her eyes, “and your skin is naturally pink.” 

You assess John. Hyuna must have good vision, because in the shitty lighting of the bar, you can hardly tell that John has definitely flushed from the alcohol. His cheeks are a rosy hue, and he looks as boyish as ever, a stark contradiction to the neck tattoos that are also beginning to blossom with color.

“How about this… two more shots,” John bargains, holding up three fingers.

Hyuna scoffs loudly.

“How about… two more shots,” John continues to hold three fingers, “And I’ll buy dessert so my body doesn’t turn into a complete whiskey barrel.”

“Two desserts and you have a deal,” Hyuna sighs.

“Two desserts it is.” John sits back in his chair. “What are you thinking, sweet thing? This place has a really good brownie, although, there's no weed in it.”

“We’ve also got apple pie with ice cream, tiramisu from the Italian place next door-” Hyuna does her best to be helpful, and you’re beginning to appreciate the tough love elder sister act thing she has going on.

You order the dessert that sounds most to your liking, and as you wait, John begins to ask about your cousin. “She’s a trooper,” he muses. “I sold her this massive thing of mushrooms last week and she texted me like two days ago asking for more.”

“She’s a heavy hitter for sure,” you agree.

“She told me once that she only does things like weed and shrooms because they come from the Earth,” John continues. “Never asks for links to cocaine or MDMA or anything- just the Earthy shit. She told me it’s cuz she’s a Taurus.”

You laugh. “That’s my cousin.”

“It was interesting meeting you for the first time,” John continues. “Your cousin gets into the car, knows exactly what strains of weed she wanted- pretty sure she was buying shatter. And there you are, asking for a blunt. Didn’t know if you wanted indica or sativa or a hybrid…” John shakes his head, as if it was the most baffling experience in the world. “In the end, I gave you some indica. Could tell you had a lot of anxiety and shit. I was kind of happy when you stopped buying, I’d hoped you’d found some other outlets or something.”

“I picked up wine,” you say, only half joking.

“Look, on our way back to your place to drop you off, I’ll stop and pick up a bottle for you to make up for what I drank earlier, deal?”

“Deal.”

John grins, and then you see his hand dipping down into his pocket. “Vape break.”

You watch John lumber outside again, and you release a deep sigh, meeting Hyuna’s eye. “Boys and their vapes.”

Dessert had helped mellow John out somewhat, and he’d actually been pretty law abiding while driving to the liquor store after. The two of you are now walking around the aisles, with John asking you all sorts of questions about your preferences when it comes to booze.

It feels shockingly domestic, especially when people go to move past you and John’s hand finds the small of your back, gently prompting you in front of him to make way for others to go by.

“What if I get us two bottles, and you let me come up for a movie,” John suggests as you reach for a replacement wine from earlier.

“What sort of movie?” you ask.

“Anything you want.”

“Are you sure I’m the only lonely one today?” you tease. “You’re being pretty clingy, John.”

“Anxious girls love a man that clings,” the plug insists. “Here, I’ll sweeten the pot for my sweet thing. Three bottles of wine, on me, and I’ll hand roll a blunt that will blow your socks off.”

“What happened to not wanting me to lose my no-weed streak?”

“I never said I’d let you smoke it, I just said I’d hand roll it and you’d be super impressed by my skills.”

You let out a laugh. It’s shocking how much your opinion of him has changed in a few short hours. You can’t believe how comfortable he’s making you feel.

“Fine. Three bottles,” you agree.

John grabs two more to join the one in your hand, and you head to the checkout. As you’re waiting in line, his phone rings, and he brings it to his ear.

“Hey, Mark…” John’s eyes meet yours. “I mean, I’m kind of busy… You really need it huh? Okay, give me a sec.” The plug presses his phone to his chest. “I’ve got a buddy who wants to link up. He lives pretty close by. It would take like… ten or fifteen minutes max. You good with that?”

“Yeah,” you agree. “Sounds okay.”

John lifts his phone back to his ear. “Okay, I’ll be there in ten minutes. You better be waiting outside though, I told you I’m busy.”

A short while later, you’re sitting in the front passenger’s seat of John’s truck as he pulls up in front of an apartment building. A man in a hoodie and baseball cap is standing there, and he quickly gets into the back, giving you an odd look.

“Mark, this is sweet thing. Sweet thing, this is Mark,” John says smoothly.

“Dude. I didn’t know you had a girlfriend.”

John ignores the comment. “How much are you spending today?”

“Five hundred.” Mark pulls a wad of bills out of his pocket. 

“The usual?” John asks, reaching down for the duffle by your feet.

“Half shrooms, quarter indica flower, quarter butter or shatter, whatever you think is best today.” 

“You got it.” John sets the duffle gently on your lap, rifling through it. He begins to pull things out, like a jar full of weed. As John sections it off into bags, Mark leans forward to get a better look at you.

“Sorry for interrupting your plans,” he says sheepishly.

“That’s okay,” you assure him.

“You guys up to anything fun?”

“Movie night,” John answers, tossing a baggie of weed back at his friend. 

“Nice.” Mark nods to himself, waiting patiently. 

Soon, John’s fulfilled the order. Mark hands the cash to the plug, and with one final nod and half smile, he gets out of the car. 

“So…” John’s hand returns to the wheel. “Movie night?”

You’re two glasses of wine into the movie when John begins to roll a joint. He’s seated next to you on the couch, his thigh just touching yours as he bends over the coffee table. For a guy with such large hands, he’s more adept than you would have thought he’d be at the fine-tuned movements needed to make the perfect joint.

You’re more enthralled by him than the movie at this point, and you can’t help the way your body reacts when he lifts up his nearly finished product to swipe his tongue across the paper. He seals the joint masterfully before turning to meet your gaze. “I’m gonna pop onto your deck for a moment to smoke this.”

“I’ll join you,” you tell him immediately, pausing the movie to stand up.

You follow him outside, momentarily taken aback by how cold it’s gotten. 

John pulls a lighter out of his pocket, and after one sharp flick, he begins to smoke the joint.

You like the way his jaw looks in the shadows of light from the deck lamp. He’s so handsome and regal-

The cloud of smoke he exhales is bigger than anything you’d ever be able to do yourself, and even that is sexy in some odd way.

“You’re really not going to give me a hit?” you ask.

“Nope.” John looks at you with a lazy expression and a half smile. “You’re the good girl, and I’m the bad guy, remember.”

“Bad guy,” you scoff. 

“Why are you laughing, sweet thing? I’m a plug with tattoos. I’m bad.”

“You’re a softie.”

Now it’s his turn to laugh. “Says who?”

“Says me,” you insist.

“Yeah? And how do you figure?”

You think about it for a moment before responding. “You’ve taken care of me today… even though you didn’t have to.”

“Well, I wanted to.” John takes another puff, blowing it in your face. “It was pretty self-serving actually.”

You roll your eyes, waving away the smoke. “Sure it was, John.”

“Johnny,” he says quietly. “Call me Johnny.”

You stare at him, taking in his pretty face, the way his perfect lips wrap around the joint when he takes a puff. “Johnny… be for real. Why are you here?”

He lets out a laugh, but there’s little humor in it. “Isn’t it obvious?”

You shake your head, holding your breath while you wait for him to elaborate.

Johnny sighs. “Look. I’ve always liked you. I liked having you come around, needing an explanation about weed, and joints versus blunts, and indica versus sativa- it was like… it was like having a little bit of sunshine every once in a while. Then you stopped buying, and I was happy about that, but I also wasn’t. Hadn’t heard from you in months, didn’t have your number, couldn’t ask your cousin about you- you texted, and it’s Valentine’s Day, and I came up and saw you were alone- and… I don’t know… I just hate missed opportunities, and I couldn’t let this one pass me by.”

You’re really not sure what to say. His demeanor is usually kind of joking, he’s the type to always have a smile- but right now, he’s not smiling, not joking- he’s being dead serious. 

“I’m happy I messaged you.” You feel stupid as the words leave your lips, but they bring back Johnny’s boyish grin.

“Yeah?”

“Uh huh,” you step closer, looking up at the tall plug. “Thanks for taking me out for drinks.”

“It would have been a crime to leave a sweet thing like you alone on Valentine’s Day, and trust me, I know all about crime.”

God, he’s such a goof. Why is he so endearing?

“Do you know about shotgunning?” you ask.

Johnny’s brows furrow for a second. “I’m shocked you know about shotgunning.” 

“Do you wanna try it?”

The plug looks you up and down. “Is this a ploy to get at my joint?”

“Nuh uh,” you shake your head. 

Johnny leans forward, meeting your eyes as his lips almost brush past your own. “Liar.”

He pulls away, slotting the joint in his mouth. He watches you while taking a long drag. Then he’s removing the joint and bending down again, meeting your gaze. 

You lean forward, reaching to gently grab at his shoulders. Your heart is racing a million miles a minute in your chest, and you do your best to exhale, although it comes out shaky.

“Kiss me,” you whisper.

Johnny doesn’t have to be told twice, he closes the distance, pressing his lips to yours in an open-mouthed kiss. He exhales the smoke into your lungs and you do your best to breathe it in, but Johnny’s so much bigger than you, and you have to pull away before he’s completely finished his breath.

You sputter a little, feeling tears in your eyes. There’s a rush through your body, and you feel a little wobbly, but your grip on Johnny keeps you standing. 

“John-” As soon as you’ve recovered, he’s kissing you again, but this time, it’s not for the purpose of shotgunning.

This time, he’s kissing you like he means it. 

Like he needs it.

His large hand cups your cheek, and he releases a soft groan when you kiss him back, wrapping your arms tighter around his shoulders to pull him closer. 

He tastes like weed and wine, and oddly enough it’s not a bad combination. As his tongue swipes past your lip and you open your mouth for him, you find yourself releasing a groan of pleasure. 

Johnny returns the sound. In the periphery, you’re aware of him flicking the joint to the ground in favour of grabbing you with both hands. First, he cups your hips, pulling you flush against him, but after a moment, he reaches down to squeeze your ass too.

You go for a breather, and he takes the opportunity to kiss your throat, teasing his tongue against your skin and making you shiver in the cold evening air.

“You know…” you thread your fingers through his hair, “if you won’t give me drugs to use for happy chemicals, the least you could do is give me an orgasm.”

Johnny chuckles, pulling away to look at you with eyes that somehow sparkle. “I thought that was a given, sweet thing.”

“It better be,” you tease, cupping the back of his neck to bring his lips to yours again.

This time, when the kiss deepens and Johnny bends down to cup your ass, he lifts you off the ground, prompting you to wrap your legs around his hips. He pushes the door open behind you, taking you back inside.

You’re so lost in his lips you almost don’t realize he’s moved past your couch, and then he’s gently laying you onto your bed. “So how do you like it?” he asks, pulling away so he can tear his hoodie and shirt off, revealing a toned chest, and all the tattoos you’ve been itching to see.

“I like it any way you want to give it to me. Dealers choice.”

Johnny lets out a laugh. “You’re cute.”

“You’re cute,” you retort, hooking your fingers in his belt to draw him closer again.

Johnny presses a hand to the bed by your head, bending over you so he can kiss you. Your thighs wrap around him, pulling him fully on top of you while you’re locked in the hottest tongue battle of your life.

He’s just so big and sexy- the weight of him is enough to have you gasping, even though he’s still holding himself up with his elbow now propped into the bed. 

His free hand finds your hip, slipping under your shirt to trace your skin. Each brush of his fingers builds the fire in the pit of your stomach, and as he slowly moves to grasp your breast, you find yourself almost dying with need for him. 

You whimper lewdly against his lips, pushing your chest up toward his palm. With a bra in the way, you can’t get the proper stimulus against your nipple, and within moments of him massaging your tits, you begin to tear your shirt off, needing more.

Johnny helps you remove the fabric, tossing it to the side so his mouth can find your throat. “You’re so pretty,” he muses, reaching under you to undo the clasp of your bra. “Can I take this off?”

“Yeah, fuck- let's get naked.” 

Johnny chuckles, pulling away to look down at you. “You sure you didn’t drink too much wine, sweet thing?”

“I’m mostly sober.”

“And that shotgunning didn’t make you needy?”

“You make me needy,” you insist, cupping his face. “You know how you said you were into me months ago? When we first met, I swear I thought you were the sexiest plug I’d ever seen.”

“Probably the only plug you’d ever seen,” Johnny points out with a grin.

“John,” you meet his gaze, “earlier, when you first got here, I wasn’t even sure if I should invite you up. I was worried I’d lose my self-control and jump you or something- trust me, the physical attraction has always been there, but… getting to know you today, I like who you are inside too… so, just fuck me, yeah?”

“Happy fucking Valentine’s Day to us lonely hearts, huh?” 

Instead of answering, you kiss him again, tangling your fingers in his hair. Johnny groans when you tug gently, and he grinds his hips down against your own. You can feel the bulge of his cock as it drags against your core, and you’re pretty sure your panties are going to be ruined after this.

You can’t help yourself, you trace your hand down from his shoulders to his chest, then his abdomen- then you cup his cock, applying pressure that has him moaning again, thrusting against your hand for friction.

“I think I kind of want you in my mouth,” you admit breathlessly.

“That’s funny, I want you in mine.”

You think about it for a moment. “Sixty-nine?”

“Fuck, you’re a girl after my own heart, aren’t you, sweet thing?”

You can only grin, heart thundering in your chest as you push at Johnny’s shoulders, prompting him to roll onto his back.

“You take off your pants, and I’ll take off mine,” you suggest, getting off of him so you can work on your jeans.

Johnny doesn’t need to be told twice, and you watch the way his muscles ripple under his skin as he hurries to get naked. 

He’d never actually taken off your bra, so you do that yourself. In moments, you’re both completely nude.

You stare at Johnny, taking in his cock. 

He’s rock-hard and huge. It makes you excited, but you’re also not sure how well you’ll be able to take him. He must be at least seven or eight inches, and thick too, with a pretty mushroom tip that’s already leaking precum. 

He grins at your reaction. “Think you can handle this, sweet thing?”

“Something tells me you’ll make it fit.”

“You got that right,” he laughs. “Now come sit on my face, wanna taste that pretty pussy.”

There’s something so suave about half-baked Johnny. He speaks with an almost melodic tone, it’s deep and sensual, and your pussy throbs just from the words coming out of his mouth.

As you crawl onto the bed, getting into position, his hands are careful against your form, helping you settle as you swing a thigh over his head, hovering your core over his mouth. Instead of waiting for you to sit down, Johnny lifts himself up a little, burying his face in your pussy before you can even touch his cock.

“Fuck-” you whimper, grabbing the base of his length as he pushes his tongue deep inside of you, licking the length of your slit. 

You would love nothing more than to enjoy his mouth on you for hours- but you have your own job to do, and you’re already drooling. You bring his mushroom tip to your lips, gently licking at him.

Johnny’s large hands find your ass, and he squeezes you gently. “No teasing,” he mumbles, and the vibration against your clit has you squirming down on his face.

You take him into your mouth, sucking on the tip and twirling your tongue. Johnny immediately releases a groan before diving back into your pussy. He grabs your hips pulling you down tighter against his face.

It’s hard to know what to focus on. He feels so good with his mouth worshiping your pussy, but at the same time, you’re kind of obsessed with sucking his cock. He’s so huge, and you want to see how much you can take. You sink further onto his length, feeling your lips stretch at the intrusion-

God, he’s going to absolutely wreck your pussy. You can’t even fit half of him in your mouth before he’s hitting the back of your throat, and as you constrict around him, he releases lewd sounds of pleasure that have your core practically throbbing with need.

You pull off of him, if only to collect your saliva as lube so you can stroke what your mouth can’t reach. Taking a breath and steadying yourself, you grind gently against his tongue, moaning loudly. Then you take him past your lips again, getting lost in the act of simultaneous giving and receiving.

You’re lost in him, so lost that you don’t even know how long you’ve been in this position- but you can feel an orgasm bubbling in the pit of your stomach every time Johnny focuses on your clit.

You find yourself grinding harder against his face, and as the feeling builds, you can’t help but pull off of his cock, gasping and moaning. “Fuck, Johnny, I’m gonna-”

“Cum for me,” he groans, squeezing your ass as he kitten licks your clit. “Don’t hold back. Cum on my face, sweet thing, give me everything.”

You’re stroking his cock mindlessly, your muscles tensing as Johnny takes your clit into his mouth, sucking and licking-

“Oh my God-” you whimper, toes curling-

Your orgasm washes over you like a wave. It tingles through every inch of your being, throbbing out from your core. You and Johnny both release groans of satisfaction, and the knowledge that he’s enjoying having you cum on his face only makes your pussy clench tighter.

You’re practically riding his tongue now, chasing the last inklings of your high until you’re absolutely breathless. 

Johnny presses one last kiss to your clit, and then he’s tapping your ass gently. “Gonna roll onto your back and let me fuck you like the good girl you are?”

“God, yes,” you groan. Your legs are shaky but you get off of Johnny’s face, collapsing next to him. 

“Damn, sweet thing, that was a good one, huh?” Johnny laughs, sitting up and stroking your thigh.

“So good,” you whimper, still feeling the aftershocks.

Johnny gets between your legs, elbow pressing into the bed next to your head as he dips close to kiss your neck. “The way you were grinding against my face was so fucking hot.”

“Johnny-” You wrap your legs around him, feeling absolutely desperate for his cock.

“You’ll have to be a little patient for me, sweet thing,” Johnny sighs, one large hand cupping your breast and teasing past your nipple. “I’ve gotta stretch you out before you can take me.”

“What if I want you now?”

“Like I said,” his breath is hot against your throat, “you’ll have to be patient.”

“What if I want you to wreck me?”

Johnny laughs, pulling away to look at you. “You’re not as innocent as you look, are you, angel?”

You trace your fingers along the fine line, black and white, Japanese Oni mask tattoo that sits on his chest between his defined pectoral muscles. “Not when it comes to you.” 

The plug simply grins at your words, his hand trailing down until it reaches your core. Two thick fingers prod at your opening, and you spread your legs even wider to accommodate him. He teasingly dips the first digit inside of you and you release a moan at how good it feels, but he’s quick to pull it out and circle your clit.

“You know what you said earlier?”

He lets out a humming sound.

“About not teasing?” you correct. “If you’re making me wait for you to prep me, you better not take your sweet time with it.”

“You’ll have to let me take my time with you next time then.”

“Next time?” You cock a brow.

“Yeah,” Johnny ghosts his lips over your own. “Next time.”

“Deal, now finger fuck me open then give me your cock.”

“Jesus, I love it when you talk dirty,” Johnny groans, dipping his finger into your core again. “Tell me more.”

“You just feel so fucking good,” you groan, swiveling your hips. “Even one finger- you’re just so big- Johnny, how are you so big?”

“You haven’t really experienced the Big yet,” John points out, adding a second digit that he scissors inside of you, stretching you out for him.

In response, you reach down and wrap your hand around his cock, pumping him gently. “I’m gonna feel you inside me for days after this.”

“Especially if you let me fuck you tomorrow, and the day after- you could feel me forever if you wanted to.”

“Forever, huh?” You let out a whimper as his digits work harder inside of you, crooking up to stroke your g spot with shocking precision. 

“I’m still a little high, it’s making me… too honest.”

“I like honest,” you admit, cupping his face with your free hand, drawing his lips to yours. “I like you.”

“I like you too,” he whispers, kissing you deeper as he finger fucks you faster. “Okay, sweet thing, I think you’re just about ready for me- dripping all over my hand.”

“I’m ready,” you assure him, staring into those beautiful chocolate-brown eyes.

“Should I grab a condom?”

“Are you clean?”

“Yeah. Contrary to popular belief, I don’t fuck around that often. I’m not a one-night stand kind of guy.”

You giggle. “I’ve sort of noticed that.”

He kisses you again. “I can still grab a condom though.”

“No, I’m on birth control. I want you to fill me up with cock and cum until it’s all I can think about.”

“I can do that.” Johnny pulls his fingers out of your pussy, and before he can lick them clean, you grab his wrist and guide them to your own mouth. “Fuck, you’re so fucking hot, angel.”

You groan around his digits, sucking them clean. When you’re done, Johnny grabs your jaw, drawing your lips to his so he can taste you, his tongue gliding against your own. 

You’ve still got his cock in your hand, and you pump him gently, adjusting against the blanket to get closer to him so you can guide his tip toward your core.

Johnny takes the hint, and he breaks the kiss, pressing his forehead against yours. His gaze dips to where your bodies meet, and he allows you most of the control as you drag his cock through your folds. “You really want this?”

“Just fuck me, John. Please don’t make me beg.”

He pushes forward, the tip of his cock sheathing in your tight core. “Holy shit,” Johnny groans.

“More.” 

Johnny can only laugh, rubbing the tip of his nose against yours as he thrusts deeper into you. The two of you hold your breath as inch after inch stretches you open. You’re so wet, and it makes the process easier, but you can still feel Johnny everywhere.

You’re a wriggling, moaning mess by the time he’s fully inside of you.

Johnny’s breath is hot against your skin, and his chest is rising and falling with effort, his bicep bulging next to your head. “You good?”

“Yeah,” you nod, swallowing thickly.

“Can I-”

“Rail me. Break my back. Murder my pussy.”

Johnny laughs, pressing his lips to yours to shut you up as he begins to move his hips, pulling out only to thrust back in. You can feel your insides practically quivering with each drag of his length against your walls. He’s so big, and you’re stretched to the brink- the vein along the underside of his cock is an added stimulus that has your toes curling already.

You’ll never be the same after this.

No one’s cock is ever going to compare and you just know it.

Johnny’s lips can’t muffle the sounds of pleasure still escaping you, and you grab at his broad shoulders, tracing your nails against his skin.

It’s so easy to get lost in Johnny. He makes you feel safe, and the pleasure he’s giving you has time flying by like nothing else. Johnny’s mouth goes to your throat, teasing the spot that has you moaning even louder.

“Can I flip you over? Wanna see that ass.”

“Do anything you want with me,” you tell him, and you mean it.

With one last kiss, Johnny pulls out of you. His large hands find your hips. He manhandles you over, pulling your ass back and up so he can push into you again. 

“Fuck,” you groan, grabbing at the bed sheets. “You’re even deeper like this-”

Each time his front meets your ass, the slapping sound turns you on even more. He’s practically rearranging your guts like this, and you don’t mind it one bit.

“Do you wanna rub your clit for me, sweet thing?” Johnny asks. “You’re so fucking tight around me, and I’m so sensitive when I smoke- not sure I’ll be able to last long, and I want you to cum with me. Wanna feel this pretty pussy all clenched and dripping-”

Every word has your body tingling, and you bring your fingers to your clit, rubbing in quick circles. 

“Johnny-” you whimper.

“That’s it, angel. You feel so fucking good- so fucking good for me.” He grabs fistfuls of your ass, squeezing in a way that has you crying out. “Who’s my good girl?”

“Me!”

“Who’s taking this cock so fucking good?”

“Me!” 

“Fuck-” Johnny lets go of your ass, wrapping a hand around your throat. He helps lift you up until your back is curved, shoulders pressed to his chest. His lips find your neck, hand dipping down to grasp your breast roughly, pinching your nipple.

“I’m gonna-”

“I know, sweet thing, me too-” He’s fucking into you like a god damned fuck machine, and each circle of your fingers on your clit has you closer and closer to the edge- “Fuck, okay, I’m there- shit, yeah, I’m there- you’re gonna cum with me, right? Gonna cum on my cock and let me fill you up?”

All you can do is whimper, your body fulfilling his ask before your brain can even fully process it. Your core clamps down hard on his cock, and Johnny releases a deep groan in your ear. He holds you close, squeezing you as his thrusts get erratic.

You can feel him cumming deep inside of you, and you’ve never felt this cock drunk in your life. 

Nothing matters except Johnny and his huge cock filling you up to the brink. His lips are hot on your throat, and he fucks you through your highs, your pussy fluttering around him as wave upon wave of pleasure rocks through you.

As you both finish, he pushes himself fully inside of you. You can feel his cock throbbing, and his groans are music to your ears. 

“Happy Valentine’s Day,” he whispers, letting out a soft laugh as he nuzzles against your cheek.

“Happy fucking Valentine’s Day,” you giggle, grabbing the hand on your breast and lifting it to your lips so you can kiss his palm.

He holds you for a few more moments, then he gently lowers you to the bed, cock still inside of you. “I’m gonna pull out,” he says, smoothing a hand over your ass. “You don’t mind if I watch it drip out of you for a second, right?”

“I’m just laying here,” you smile against the quilt. 

Even so, it feels like a loss as he takes his cock out of your aching pussy. His hands are on your ass and he spreads your cheeks. “Fuck, sweet thing. This is the prettiest view in the whole fucking world.”

When you’d texted Johnny earlier for a link-up, you’d never expected this. Never expected to see this softer side of him. 

You’re so fucking happy you reached out- he provided more than what you’d asked for.

“I busted a fat load in you, angel,” Johnny laughs, his thumb moving to rub your clit, causing you to whine and push back against him. “How about we go for a shower. I can wash you up, eat you out some more-”

“Damn, Johnny, are you pussy drunk?”

“Uh huh.” He leans over you, kissing up your spine and to your shoulder. “Valentine’s Day isn’t over yet, we should make the most out of it, right?”

You get the sneaking suspicion that you’re going to be making the most out of it with Johnny for many days to come, Valentine’s Day be damned. God. Your cousin is going to have a freak when she hears about this.

☀️ mlist + an. Thank you so much for reading! I know it's late by three days but this John still has me in the Valentine's Day spirit

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🔮 preview. “You’ll like this. You always like this. You love cumming on my cock. But you don’t get my cum unless I get yours, that’s the deal, right?”

cw/ tw. Unprotected sex, grinding on his thigh, hand job, oral (m receiving) blow job, he spits in y/n’s mouth, spit as lube, masturbation, y/n touches herself while blowing Johnny, fingering masturbation, y/n rides his cock, multiple reader orgasms, praise, gentle degradation, dirty talk, breast worship/tit sucking,  etc…   I petnames. (hers) angel, sweet thing, good girl.

👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 2.6k I teaser wc. 250

🌙 starring. Johnny x afab!Reader

bonus

You’ve gotten accustomed to your plug boyfriend. You’d only been dating for a month when he’d officially asked you to be his, but you know the two of you were exclusive to each other since that very first night you’d fucked. 

Being with John is pretty easy- but his odd work schedule can be a bit of a pain. He never knows how busy he’s going to be, so you can plan date nights, but sometimes he has to push it back a few hours to do unexpected late-night deliveries.

If you’d been cock drunk for him after the first time he’d fucked you, you’re even more dependent on him now.

No drug in the world could fill you up and give you the pleasure that Johnny’s cock does, and you’ve become a little impatient when you have to wait for him to complete deliveries… although, you’d never bring it up with him

You know being a plug is his job. It’s what pays the bills and allows him to dote on you in ways you’d scarcely been able to imagine before meeting him.

Even so, you can feel your skin crawling, pussy practically aching with anticipation as he completes the last handful of orders for the night. He’d initially wanted to be over at your place by seven, but it’s nearly ten now, and you’re three hours behind on the fuck marathon you’d planned.

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[bunny-extract]

HIIIII can I put in a request for task 141 + Alejandro for a reader who smokes a lot (like weed and is kind of a chain smoker) and how they would act while high?

did someone post a copy of my diary ,,, i got obliterated while writing and hardly remember these sooo if they’re a lil self-indulgent you can’t blame me!

141 & Alejandro x Stoner!reader

est. relationships, mostly …sfw but they’re high and in love what can i say mdni

Captain John Price rolls the fattest, filthiest spliffs, there’s nothing you can say to change my mind.

When he splits the skin of one of his cigars and sprinkles globs of mossy green throughout you, for maybe the first time in your life, think you should say no to a blunt. It’s a behemoth of a thing, and he takes his time wetting the leaf on his tongue before deftly, delicately putting it back together. His fingers are sticky with crystals and you want - not for the first time, not by a long shot - to suck the aged taste of cigar off of each one.

Price catches you staring, an eyebrow raising in cheeky greeting when you bring your focus back to him. The tips of his fingers brush against your anticipating lips, and you’re half high before you even taste him off the leaf.

Whatever shit he’s getting, it is strong. You have to tap out before the thing even begins to burn properly, wordlessly trying to communicate that when you bury your face in his shoulder. His amusement is smokey, seen in the creases at the corner of his crescent eyes, contouring his cheeks. Smooths his arm over you to keep you tucked in while he cuffs away.

Price likes getting to a state of couch-lock when he smokes, valuing tenfold the luxury of sitting still when it’s not on his belly looking down a scope. If not for the help he’d be wired, mind racing, surely aching, even if he won’t admit it. Price groans up and down like he’s got grandkids, swears it’s for laughs and not because he is old and weathering—not at all.

(“What about the knee popping, sir?” — “Come lay over them and tell me, sunshine.”)

Woof. Price needs more than just a bit of weed to turn off. Few orgasms ought to do.

—

Simon “Ghost” Riley doesn’t smoke weed, but is particularly fond of teasing you about the habit. He’s just a lover boy who likes bullying his schoolyard crush. Pretty typical.

It isn’t your fault while waiting for him to pick you up you took a few pulls from your pen, maybe hitting it a little more desperately when you heard his bike purr around the corner of your street.

Through his balaclava and helmet, Ghost can smell that burn cart you refuse to get rid of on your mouth, eyes paying close attention when you fit the offered helmet on, shyly smiling when you can’t get the clasp into the right spot.

“What am I gonna do with you?” he chided, words coming through the built-in headset where the bass of his voice was felt right against your ear. Sinful fucking investment you didn’t even have the chance to steer him away from. Simon knew what he was doing—yours is the nicer one, anyway.

Ghost was quick to swoop into your space, knocking your knees apart to insert himself as close as possible. “Already smoked yourself stupid, hm? Need me to do everything for you?”

Your eyes roll, maybe flutter. Head screaming yes, yes, yes.

The tugging on his gloves caught your attention, the reveal of his long, notched fingers churning anticipation behind your navel. Your skin was burning even before his hands made contact, firm but gentle while lifting your chin, teasing where they lingered against your pulse, the center of your throat.

“How can I be sure you’re not just gonna fall off? Having a hard time standing upright,” he mocks, pushing your legs further apart. Your hand reaches out, clutching his jacket to balance yourself

“Be nice to me,” you plead, tone sweet, a bit helpless. Ghost has always pretended it had no effect on him, but he’s been sloppy and you’re too sharp for your own damn good. “C’mon, I’m sensitive when I’m high.”

“I’ve noticed,” he muttered back, the blunt tips of his nails drawing a down the hollow of your neck. You can still feel how the shiver that knocked up your spine pushes you further into his hands. Orchestrated with an intimate knowledge of your strings.

It’s the half-there look that always gets him, every bit of dreamy and dumb. He knocks his helmet into yours, trying to pull himself away. You spot the pink along his cheekbones when he helps you onto the bike and smile. Beneath his layers of protective padding your fingers found the familiar wave of his happy trail, locking your hands there beneath his jacket. . “Forgot my gloves. You don’t mind, right?”

He was never that good at hiding it.

—

John “Soap” McTavish’s only experience with the stuff was the dry, seedy ditch-weed nabbed by the sewers outlets in his hometown. Curbed him from the habit, not that he didn’t find is indulgences elsewhere. Honestly, he thought the stuff didn’t work on him.

Shrugs when you offer him an edible and just stares at the little gummy in the center of his palm.

“This all I need?” he’d asked. “That’s all you need,” you answered.

Then again ten minutes later. “Should I feel it yet?” — “No, Johnny.”

Twenty. “I think I feel it…” — “Probably not.” — “Yeah, no. Sure they’re not duds?” — “Careful,” you chimed with sage warning. “Say that now and you’ll be on the moon.” — “Bleedin’ counting on it, bonnie.”

It’s a good hour later while you’re both splayed on the floor playing Smash Bros that all of a sudden Soap starts actually being funny. For half of his banter you aren’t entirely sure you can unravel the English from his Scottish, accent thickening tenfold, while the other has you incapacitated, writhing on the floor.

Soap is certain that shit they lit on fire in a water bottle was literally just a bunch of weeds.

Johnny’s got a good sense of humor, but it’s impossible how funny he is high. He doesn’t realize the comedic timing he has sometimes, making his already theatrical expressions even more fantastic. It coaxes you from the giggles to that kind of full-belly laughter leaving you watery eyed and gasping for air. Leaves him looking flushed pink, chest puffed with pride and eyes practically lit up with little hearts.

Johnny had grabbed your ankle, dragging you toward him with only half his strength behind it. “And what’re you laughing at, aye, bonnie? What’s ticklin’ ya?”

Game forgotten, Soap ducks to your ankle to kiss, then the back of your knee. Keeps you squirming when he grazes his chin over the curve of your ass, small of your back. Crawling up your body until he’s stretched over you and can whisper in your ear,

“Don’t stop yet, love. Sweetest fuckin’ noise I’ve ever heard.”

He’s slumped to the side of you, the edible starting to roll over him in dizzying waves. Happy little noises leave his half-parted lips while your nails follow the planes cut by corded muscle across his arms, barely tickling the dark hair there on every odd pass.

He might feel a bit bad for letting you dote over him while he just lays there, but greened is an understatement. Soap understands your sage bit of warning earlier. Feels it from the weightless, blinding surface of the fuckin’ moon.

—

Kyle “Gaz” Garrick likes to take ‘walks’ when he smokes. This is a hike, Garrick — Keep up, love, or this is all mine.

A true gentleman, Kyle already has a perfect pearled joint tucked behind his ear when you meet up. He lights it between your lips and wipes the tears off your cheeks when you get overconfident and hold it wrong, making you cough. “Easy does it now,” he’d sooth, a touch smug. He always is when you agree to go along with his ideas. There’s just always a catch, you know it.

The trail you follow is simple, the wire of his headphones stretching between you, a playlist of songs you’d collected specifically to show each other in your ears. While your eyes are lost in the oversaturated scenery, Gaz is studying the way your lips move along to the music, the curve of your nose. You pass the sweetened paper back and forth until resin is staining the filter and your heads are as syrupy as the smoke.

Kyle keeps a hand tethered to you at all times, like a boy with a balloon. His smooth fingertips are a pillar of support against the fleshy back of your arm, barely there but exactly what you need to keep upright.

Depending on what he’s smoking it’s either endless chatter or deep, musing silence until he’s a bit more back in his body and less in his mind. When it’s the former you’re always treated to his quick wit, and expectant of the most beautiful bullshit prose about leaves blowing in the wind, or the meaning of life, and insists it isn’t just because he’s high. It is very much because he is high.

You keep a Notes page to write down all of his delirious predictions and proclamations, both brilliant and absurd. One definitely outweighs the other. You and Gaz cannot agree which that is.

—

Alejandro Vargas doesn’t smoke, and is pretty intolerant to the stuff. He’s got neither the time or desire for it. The Colonel, famously, doesn’t even drink, love.

This is all information you learned after you found yourself in his lap, a half-smoked joint tucked behind the ear his lips were barely moving against, whispering what you could only half translate. A lot of ‘I want’ and ‘you have’ going around, hot and promising when they moved over your thrumming pulse. It had you giggling, trusting his broad hands to keep you upright while you turned to jelly against them.

The talk catches you quick enough, and though you’re a little embarrassed the news struck with a wash of emboldened delight when Alejandro sought you out again and again.

There’s no pressure from him to cut your habit, but you stick to edibles and blasting through carts in the bathroom instead, always making sure to cover up the scent.

Alejandro is, unsurprisingly, aware every time you do it. His nose is too sharp not to be able to pick it out, and though he hates the smell of pot, Alejandro found himself drawn to the lingering, heady mix of it on your skin since that night, seeking it out on the collar of your jacket, against the corner of your mouth. It’s rare these days that he catches it, but when you join him in bed after a small walk around the backyard, he finds himself wishing you hadn’t blown the smoke downwind. Makes him think of that night, and he breathes against your ear again, heavy.

“What am I going to do with you, pajarito.”

From where you lay against him, your fingers traced the word over his flank. It was cute, little bird. You’ve been called that before.

Your voice was thick with sleep, eyes barely closed when you asked, “Do I look like a bird, Ale?”

The hand still tracing the word is pressed against his lips, humor rumbling and coy when he kisses your knuckle, the flat of his teeth felt between his split smile. Not an answer, but you took it for one, and drifted.

Against your ear, Alejandro half-whispered low in his throat, “It isn’t your features. It’s because you get high like you have wings.”

Through your sleep, you smiled. Checks out.

[pinkiemachine]

Hi! So, I was wondering... You said all heroes before 24 are in the YJ, where does that leave the original team of the NTT? Are they in the JL now? Do the Outsiders exist anymore? (and if you don't have this all figured out or have a different plan for canon it is okay, I just overthink things)

So, I’m a little confused by your question—the “original” team was the Mighty Teen Titans, the second gen was the New Teen Titans. Typo? Idk.

ANYWAY—REGARDLESS—I’ll try to answer your question as best I can :)

So, one of my main objectives when it comes to the superhero teams is trying to keep things simple. I don’t want there to be a whole bunch of different teams for people to try and keep track of all the time, because that makes it harder on the average viewer. At the moment, the only teams I’ve greenlit so far are The Justice League (there will be a few “generations” for them as well. Changing members over the years, like Aquaman leaving to become king of Atlantis and being replaced by Green Arrow and Black Canary), the Teen Titans (I’ve posted plenty about them, but yeah, there’s three distinct generations for them, each led by a different Robin, and yes, Jason would have gone on to lead his own team if he hadn’t sadly passed away), speaking of which, the Outlaws, led by Red Hood. Additional members: Arsenal, Artemis of Bana-Mighdall, and Bizarro. Then, there’s the Green Lanterns of Earth. (Yeah, that whole “each sector has only ONE Lantern” thing doesn’t really sit well with me. Besides, it’s not like DC listens to that rule anyway, lol.) So, the team consists of five members: Hal Jordon, Guy Gardner, Jessica Cruz, Kelli Quintella, and is led by John Stewart. While he leads the Lantern team, Hal is the active representative on the Justice League, helping them on missions periodically when the rest of the Lanterns are preoccupied. Kyle Rayner comes in later, during the adaption of the Emerald Twilight arc, leading up to Blackest Night.

Finally, there’s Young Justice, which unfortunately is the least fleshed out of the teams right now, but it too will have distinct “generations.” However, which members are included will vary depending on the characters themselves. For example, among the original Teen Titans—Robin/Nightwing, Starfire, Beast Boy, Raven, Kid Flash, Wonder Girl, and Cyborg—Cyborg went on ahead and became part of the Justice League before Young Justice was founded, leaving Nightwing and Starfire to lead the new young adult team along with newcomers like Batgirl and Supergirl. I’ve been thinking maybe once Raven finishes her arc and defeats her father, Trigon, she can go ride off into the sunset, maybe by going back to Azarath. Either way, the point is she moves on. I haven’t decided about the rest yet. After that, some of them, like Nightwing and Starfire, go on to be part of the Justice League. Then, the next gen of YJ comes along: Robin/Red Robin (Tim Drake), Spoiler, Cassie Sandsmark (who’s usually Wonder Girl 2.0 but to avoid another “multiple Robins” or “multiple Superboys” fiasco, I decided to make her an original hero called Olympia), Miss Martian, Conner Kent Superboy (I’m also looking for a potential new name for him, but I’m coming up dry), Aqualad 2.0 (Kaldur), and Impulse. I have not written anything for this gen of YJ yet, nor for the generation after them, and I can’t say when I will.

What I can say is that I have no plans currently to include the Outsiders. That may change, but personally it seems like a bit too much to include them on top of having the Teen Titans and Young Justice and The Justice League. If there are to be more superhero teams, they really, really, really need to justify their existence by having a specific goal or reason for being.

Thanks for asking :) I enjoy the questions.

[shelby-fangirl00]

Lie To Me-part two-(Irene (OC) x John Shelby x Tommy Shelby)

Summary: Irene has been seeing John Shelby for a year now on and off. In John's absence, Irene begins to feel a pull towards Tommy.

Warnings: (MINORS DNI, 18+) smuuuut, swearing, drinking, MMF (slightly))

The next few days, all I could think about was my night spent with Tommy. It was refreshing to not be constantly thinking about what John was up to. I was getting ready to close up shop at work with one of the tailors I worked alongside with. It wasn’t hard to find work near Small Heath a year ago, with my background in dressmaking. This small fitting shop on the outskirts of Small Heath was owned by an older man, Rory. He was the closest tailer to town. I offered him my services a year ago and we have been working together to help both men and women now. I love the work I do, even though it was a bit of a walk to get there every day. 

I was sitting in the back work station alone, putting some finishing touches on an evening gown I had been working on for months now. It was a long and fitted forest green with golden lining. I held the dress up, marveling at the work I had done. Pulling my bottom lip in, I worried it wasn’t fancy enough for the socialite woman I was making it for. I decided to find Rory to ask him. 

‘Roryyyyyy….’ I sang casually as I made my way to the front of the building, dress in hands. I waltzed into the main area, to find a much younger and dashing man instead. I gasped a bit in surprise, not expecting to see Tommy standing alone, hands placed casually in the pockets of his perfectly tailored gray suit. Rory must’ve left for the day it was getting dark soon. 

‘Evening Thomas...’ I managed to squeak out as he smiled lightly a me. 

‘What’s that you have?’ he asked gesturing to the long gown. I looked down and back at him. ‘Oh…a dress I’ve been working on forever. Supposed to be picked up in the morning…’ My voice trailed off as my eyes fell back down on the dress. I studied it a few seconds longer before looking back at him. 

‘Want a second opinion?’ He asked, seemingly sensing that I was unsure of my work. I smiled walking closer to him. I laid the dress down on a longer table for him to examine. I watched as his eyes scrunched up and studied the dress. He let his fingers brush over the shimmery green fabric, looking back up at me with those sparkling eyes. 

‘I hope whoever is wearing it paid you well enough. It’s very beautiful, Irene. Then again, I’m no dressmaker so my opinion might not mean much to you.’ 

My face bloomed with color at his approval and a wide smile crept up my face. 

‘No, no it means a lot coming from you! Thank god, I’ve been in my head about it all,’ I giggled, grabbing the dress and placing it behind the front counter.

‘What’re you doing here anyways? I know you don’t come here for your fancy suites.’ I questioned, grabbing my jacket from behind the front door. 

‘No, I don’t. I was coming to see you, actually.’ My heart was fluttering at this point. His eyes never wavered from mine as he spoke. I stood there at a loss for words.

 ‘Arthur is throwing Polly a birthday party as the Garrison tonight. I wanted to extend the invitation. Polly has always liked having you around.’ I nearly fainted. John would most definitely be there too. My mouth went dry but I tried to conceal my nerves. 

‘I’d love to, thank you for thinking of me, Tommy.’ 

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

Walking up the cobbled sidewalks towards the Garrison, I clutched the small giftbox in my sweaty palms. It didn’t take long for me to hear the vibrato of instruments playing from inside. Muffled sounds of people yelling and laughing were nearly pouring out of the wide double doors. I didn’t know what the hell I was supposed to be wearing, so I just wore a simple black dress that hugged my frame nicely and hung off my shoulders, exposing my neck and chest. A simple pearl necklace hung from my neck, accentuating my cleavage nicely. I chose to leave my hair down in its natural wavy state. My lips were covered in a light shade of red that matched my blushed cheeks. 

‘Irene!’ A familiar feminine but strong voice yelled immediately after I entered the bright and lively bar. 

I smiled wide as I drew her into a hug. “Happy Birthday! God, you look gorgeous in that dress!’ 

Her beautifully crooked smile made my heart swell. Her presence was always breathtaking. Her fire-red dress glimmered off of the twinkling chandeliers in the room. 

‘Thank you, love! You look stunning, as always. I was so happy to hear from Tommy that you were coming!’ 

I smiled, handing her the small box I had been carrying. A red bow rested on top. 

‘Oh, dear that was not necessary!’ Her laugh was cut off by a gasp when she opened the box. Resting inside was a sparkling hair comb that was studded in white rhinestones. I had stayed a little later at the shop after Tommy had invited me tonight. I decided to quickly make something small and elegant for Polly, something I knew she’d appreciate. 

‘Did you make this?!’ I giggled and shook my head yes. 

‘I’ll definitely have to keep this hidden from Ada, its beautiful! I hope it didn’t take up too much time?’ She asked me, concerned. 

‘It was no trouble at all, Polly! Happy birthday again! I need to grab a drink, I’ll see you soon, yeh?’

‘You surely will, dear!’ She sang as she drunkenly but confidently pushed through the tall crowd of eyeing men. 

I made my way past the lumps of people, finally making it to the end of the bar. I took my glass in hand and rounded back through the bar just to be shoved face first into John’s chest. His eyes were surprisingly bright with interest, not glazed over from drinking. 

Instinctively, I smiled up at his dazzling features. His hair was slicked back, unmoving and a toothpick hung from the end of his splitting smile. There were so many people around that we were practically squished together. I was suddenly very aware of the height difference between us. I was nearly 5’2’’. He was looking down at me in a hungry way.

‘You look very handsome tonight, Mr. Shelby.’ I giggled as his greedy hands swiveled around my wide hips, squeezing all of me between his fingers in a way that might have been inappropriate in this crowded bar. I couldn’t care less. We rarely saw each other outside of my dark flat. I was practically melting in his strong arms, I loved that he was being affectionate in front of his friends and colleagues. It made me feel special, stupidly. 

‘And you look good enough to taste, love.’ He whispered in my ear before planting a soft and quick kiss to the exposed skin on my neck. I was so responsive to him, it was embarrassing. I couldn’t help how my back arched towards him slightly; he was intoxicating to be around. 

I attempted to laugh in order to play off how tightly wound up I was. 

‘You’ll have to work for that from now on.’ I shot him a wicked grin before turning on my heels back to the bar. John was on my heels, though, which is what I wanted. Somehow, through the crowd of people, he jumped in front of me, stopping me in my path.

‘Listen, I tried to stop by. But I got stuck at the bloody fights with Arthur. He was so fucking drunk. I couldn’t leave him there alone. I would’ve stopped by if I could’ve.’ He said all this while holding his hands gently in mine. His eyes were waiting for an answer, to forgive him, like I always do so easily. 

‘You could’ve told me that days ago.’ I sighed out.

‘Yes, I should’ve, but I’m an arse and didn’t. Forgive me?’ He pleaded, pouting his bottom lip out. 

I took a sip of my drink before placing it back onto the bar, getting a good look at him now. I didn’t want to think about my complicated feelings for John or how he blew me off. The only thing I could think about was how badly I needed him to touch me. “Let’s have this conversation another time, yeh? I want to have fun tonight.’ You said before shoving a drink at him. 

He studied me for a few seconds, before letting go of the protest in his mind. ‘Fine by me, love.’ He laughed before downing his drink. 

An hour had passed and John couldn’t keep his hands off of me, which I didn’t mind. We sat at the bar and the conversation and jokes came naturally, like they always do. On the other side of the bar though, I could feel Tommy’s eyes watching me. Every time I looked up at him from the opposite end of the bar, his eyes were already on me. Shyly, I always looked away. But I was now several shots in. I didn’t want to admit that I liked his eyes on me. God what is wrong with me? I finally get John’s attention and now I can’t stop thinking about him and his brother?

John was shouting at the bartender about more shots and joking around with the other men sitting near us. I took the moment to lift my eyes up to meet Tommy’s, and I almost floated over to him before stopping myself. His intense stare never broke. He chuckled from across the bar as I instinctively nibbled my bottom lip at my wandering thoughts. God, what I would let that man do to me.

Breaking me out of my thoughts, I felt John’s warm hand slide up my thigh, eating me up with his eyes. My skin broke out in goosebumps and my breath hitched. I could still feel him watching us from across the room. 

John’s eyebrows creased in question, until he found where my line of vision kept wandering off to. He shot a devilish look back at me. 

‘Tommy told me about his little visit with you the other night.’ Shit. My heart fucking sank. 

I sat there in silence, not knowing what to say in order to keep John from completely freaking out and causing a scene. I wondered why he hadn’t already if he had known Tommy came over,

To my surprise, he started to giggle, sensing the rigidness in my body. To my surprise, he lifted my chin up and planted a sweet but passionate kiss to my lips, knowing that his brother was looking. I couldn’t help the satisfied whimper coming from the back of my throat that only John could’ve heard. I was melting in his hands. He pulled back and smiled. ‘Stop worrying, Irene. You’re a free woman, you can do as you please…whether that’s me or my brother…or both of us.’ 

My hand clamped down on his thigh, squeezing it in comfort. ‘John…nothing happened with me and Tommy.’ He smiled down at me cheekily, already sensing the hesitation in my voice. He already knew exactly how I felt about Tommy. 

‘That doesn’t mean you didn’t want something to happen. Doesn’t even mean it won’t happen eventually’ he leaned in to whisper, ‘Is that what you want, love? You want the both of us? It’s written all over you. You’re such a greedy girl.’ He giggled in a haunting way as his fingers brushed the exposed skin on my arm. The room seemed to spin and I couldn’t believe the words coming out of John’s mouth. I never would’ve expected John, the most possessive man alive right next to his brothers, would be ok with sharing. 

‘What’re you two love birds whispering about?’ Tommy’s low voice boomed from behind us. My eyes shot up to meet his beautiful blue eyes. 

‘Tommy! Perfect timing, brother. We were just talking about you.’ Tommy’s eyebrows curved in curiousity. 

‘Yeh? What about me?’ He sat on the stool next to me, placing me right between the two of them. 

‘I think Irene’s got a little crush on you!’ He yell-whispered to Tommy sarcastically across from me. I shoved his arm harshly to hide the glow on my cheeks. 

‘Jesus John!’ I scolded, making the both of them chuckle in an eerily calm and collected way. Had they already talked about this together? 

‘Is that true, Irene?’ Tommy laughed.

I shoved my face into my hands in embarrassment. “I’m not drunk enough for this.’ I sighed.

A strong hand found its way to the small of my back, making me straighten out. Only, the hand that was rubbing small circles into my back was Tommy’s, not Johns. 

My eyes shot between the both of them in shock. 

‘How about John and I walk you back home, hm? Is that ok with ya?’ Both of their eyes were planted on me, not bothering to notice the entire mob of people around us. My hands grew clammy and my red cheeks bled down my chest.

‘I’d like that.’ 

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

The walk back to my place was short. Full of constant laughter and chatter. John annoyed Tommy the whole way there and I couldn’t help but admire the way they bickered back and forth. I never got to see the two of them together like this, so playful. Tommy always had a layer of seriousness, but some of those walls seemed to crash down in John’s company. It was hard to be in a bad mood with him around. 

As we approached the front door of my flat, I turned to face them, they both stood shoulder to shoulder, waiting for me to speak. I had a feeling on how this night was going to play out and I couldn’t miss the opportunity. I didn’t want the night to end. I’d love to live in this tipsy and light state forever. 

‘You’re coming inside, aren’t you? Or is it past your bedtimes?’ I giggled as I fiddled with the keys and doorknob. 

John threw his head back and clutched the front of his coat dramatically. ‘Christ, I thought you’d never ask!’ He laughed before pushing past Tommy and through the front door. 

All three of us sat around my kitchen table playing cards and drinking for a while. The tension would’ve been air tight if it wasn’t for John breaking the ice by making jokes all night. I couldn’t ignore all of the small touches both Tommy and John were giving me. Tommy’s hand would brush across my back occasionally, but nothing more. John was less subtle, sneaking kisses and sitting inches away from me.  

‘I missed you this week, Irene.’ He sighed, leaning forward and pulling my chair forcefully in front of his. As soon as we were practically nose-to-nose, he enveloped me in a searing kiss. His lips moved slowly but no less passionate. His hands slid down my back slowly, stopping at my ass and squeezing lightly. I playfully pushed him off, laughing. Tommy was still seated beside me and John, watching. 

‘John, don’t manhandle me in front of your brother, you’ll make him uncomfortable.’ I half-joked. 

John threw his head back in laughter. ‘Tommy doesn’t get uncomfortable. I’m sure that’s the last thing he’s feeling right now.’ 

I looked back to Tommy who seemed even more angelic up-close. He had shed his jacket and was only in a white button down, his gun holster strapped around his shoulders and chest, showing how large this man actually was. I looked at him in question, never knowing what he was thinking.

‘Come here.’ He said in such a deadly tone that I could never disobey. I looked back at John for a reaction or some sort of protest, but there was none. In fact, he was silent. His eyes seemed to almost turn black as he watched me in anticipation.

I slowly stood up, walking a few steps to stand right above him. His dangerous star made me shiver. I wasn’t sure what I was supposed to be doing, just standing here in front of him. Sensing my nervousness, Tommy was level to my stomach. His eyes never left mine when he reached up to caress the skin under my dress. As his hand squeezed softly around me, he took note of the way my body relaxed. 

Still sitting lazily in the chair from under me, he used his foot to kick my leg open. All in one motion, he grabbed my hips tightly, and led me to cradle his lap. I yelped slightly, not expecting this all to move so quickly, but I wasn’t upset about it. I was full of excitement which weighed out my nervousness. 

I could hear John moving back and forth in his seat, but all I could focus on right now was how close my face was to Tommy’s. All of my senses were filled with him. I rested my hands on his shoulders as his hands slid up to cup my face before reaching up to kiss me. My body pressed into his chest, instantly feeling addicted to the taste of him and the feeling of his mouth on mine. Sparks shot through my body at every touch and every movement he made. His lips were soft and plump, fighting for dominance. Quickly, his tongue snuck its way into my mouth, teasing me slightly. A loud moan crept up my throat and I could feel Tommy smirk into the kiss, satisfied with the effect he had on me. His hands slid up my back to unzip the back of my dress. 

All too quickly, Tommy pulled away, leaving us both breathless. His eyes were wild and full of desire. I smiled down at him before he spoke. ‘How about we make John watch us play as a punishment for neglecting this needy body.’ 

I heard John chuckle eerily from behind us. I turned my head around and raised a questioning eyebrow at him.

‘No fair! I don’t get to play?’ He whined childishly. 

‘I told you that you’d have to work a little harder from now on.’ I teased at him. 

He slouched back in his chair, spreading his legs a bit farther apart, giving me a challenging look. Finally, he nodded to me in a sort of agreement. 

‘Irene.’ My name coming off Tommy’s lips like this almost put me in a trance. I would do anything he wanted when he said my name like that. 

I stood up, leading Tommy to my bed which was only a few steps from where John was in my tiny flat. As I plopped down, John scooted his chair in the direction of us. 

‘Are you sure you want this?’ He sat beside me on the bed, squeezing my hand lightly. 

I shook my head a bit too eagerly. ‘I trust you.’ His lips crashed back into mine. I was still aware of John’s eyes watching us and the small sounds he was making from his chair. 

Tommy’s hands brushed down my skin as he pushed the rest of my unzipped dress down. Tommy eyed every inch of exposed skin. 

He pushed his holsters off his shoulders swiftly, tossing them the floor. My hands greedily unbuttoned his shirt to expose his tight chest that was sprinkled in small scars and a couple tattoos I didn’t know about. 

My hands fell into his soft hair as he inched down my body, not hesitating when pushing past the fabric covering my pussy. Completely naked now, he pushed my thighs apart, letting both himself and John get a view of my pussy. I felt so vulnerable and so exposed to both of them, but the nerves quickly left as Tommy’s head lowered between my legs, letting his fingers graze down my slit. He dipped his finger into my tight hole, collecting the slick wetness into his finger. He watched my face methodically as he sucked the finger into his mouth. 

‘She tastes so sweet, doesn’t she?’ John said huskily as he began to fidget with his zipper, struggling to not stroke himself off. 

Tommy’s eyes were focused on me when he spoke next. “Sweeter than I ever imagined.’ 

Tommy leaned over my body, pushing his lips onto mine, letting me taste myself on his tongue. I inhaled sharply at the contact. My hands shot to his pants, quickly fumbling with the zipper. I wrapped my hand around his throbbing cock, pulling it free. He grunted loudly, giving me a boost of confidence. 

‘Are you ready for me?’ He whispered in my ear, setting me on fire again. I needed him inside of me now. 

‘Please, I need to feel you, Thomas.’ His face softened instantly for a few quick seconds at the use of his real name. He lined himself up with my entrance, staring into my eyes with such passion that I’d never seen before. Pushing his way inside me slowly, he hissed, but his gaze never wavered. He pushed deeper and deeper until bottoming out with a small whimper that made me tighten around him. I felt so full, but in the best way possible. His lips hovered over mine as his forehead fell onto mine. He adjusted to the tightness of me before moving again. 

‘Christ, you feel incredible.’ He said, finally pulling all the way out and pounding back inside of me over and over again, make me gasp for air. Lost in the sensations, I wrapped my legs around his waist, clawing lightly at his muscular back. Finding my center, I peeked over at John, who was now standing to get a better look at me. He was stroking his cock in time with Tommy’s thrust, chest heaving up and down frantically.

Reality suddenly set in as I watched John, thinking he might hate this. Would he be upset with me for this later? Am I betraying him like this?

Tommy must’ve noticed my body’s rigidness and the nervous look on my face. He pushed my face back under him, holding my head in place with both his strong hands as he fucked me so gently now. Each gentle thrust helped me fall farther into the moment with him. I relaxed around him finally, allowing him to move a bit faster. 

‘You’re doing such a good job, love. Focus on me, yeh? Make him pay for not worshipping this beautiful pussy.’ God, I couldn’t deny how sexy this was.

His thrust were slow and deep now, drawing every moan out of me for Tommy to devour. My hips started to meet his in a steady rhythm, fucking myself up into him. My hands were everywhere, falling down his chest and caressing back up to his pretty face panting over me. His breath held a strong scent of whiskey, sending my head spiraling. 

‘Does my cock feel better than his? I know it does. Tell me how good I feel inside you.’ He said in a slightly submissive and approval seeking way, whispering so that I was the only one to hear him. I couldn’t deny that this felt so much different than with John. This was all so unfamiliar and exciting. Tommy had a way about himself that I couldn’t explain. 

‘God, you feel amazing in me Tommy. I feel so full of you.’ I panted into him, only for his ears to hear. A small chuckle escaped him and he pressed his lips onto my neck again. I turned to face John who was about to come undone.

Before I could think, Tommy pulled me up to his chest before flipping me over, so that I was on-top of him. He looked stunning laying underneath me like this. His eyelids were heavy and his chest was heaving up and down. It started to feel like it was just Tommy and I here alone in my room. 

I pressed my hands firmly into his chest as I fucked myself down on his dick. I threw my head back and focused on my movements. I was bouncing up and down so harshly, each time I moved down, a loud grunt left Tommy, edging me on. His hands grabbed firmly onto my hips and he fucked up into me so much more harshly. I gasped, mouth hanging open and unable to move. Each time his cock shot up into me, I came closer and closer to the edge of my building orgasm. 

‘You’re close?’ He panted out, redirecting my attention on his angelic features. I shook my head yes, unable to form words right now. His hand moved down in-between us, rubbing fast and tight circles into my clit. I clamped my eyes shut, trying to contain the building pressure. I was a total goner now.

I felt his soft hands gently brush across my face, making my lids flutter open.

‘I am too. Come for me, love. Can you do that?’ He said, still fucking my core relentlessly.  

‘Yes, Tommy…I’m gonna come…’ I moaned out loudly before the flood gates broke open. My mouth hung in a silent cry and my hands clawed down his chest. I came so hard around him black spots clouded my vision. My entire body slowly lit on fire, every inch of my body shaking with pleasure. I came harder than I ever have in that moment. Tommy lifted my ass up with his hands and fucked me through the extreme pleasure. His thrusts became sloppy as his orgasm followed close behind mine. With a few final thrusts, I watched his face contort and then finally relax completely as his hot cum filled me up completely, spilling out the sides of me. I might become obsessed with this expression. After what felt like minutes of whimper and moans of bure bliss, I laid my head on his chest, still buried onto his cock. I felt him twitch inside of me as I tried to catch my breath. His hands rubbed up and down my back lightly, reminding me that we had company here still. It was so silent, the only sounds that filled the room were the panting coming from me and Tommy. He stared up at me in awe, giving me the softest smile that made me melt. I never wanted him to leave my bed. 

Finally, I moved off of him, falling to his side and turning to look at John who was fully clothed again, looking a bit pissed off. I hadn’t even known he had came and recomposed himself all while we were fucking. Did I not hear him at all?

‘If I didn’t know any better, I would’ve guessed you two were in love. The fuck was all that about?’

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[winstonhenderson]

𝟏𝟗𝟔𝟗.

𝓢𝓴𝓲𝓹𝓹𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓟𝓻𝓪𝓬𝓽𝓲𝓬𝓮

𝙎𝘼𝘾𝙍𝙄𝙁𝘼𝙈𝙀 𝙎𝙀𝙍𝙄𝙀𝙎

Julia’s line of thought

I have overslept. Again. It feels like a chore to go to sessions. I never wanted to feel that way about it. I think I’m done with his bullcrap… He always talks about how we don’t try enough and that we should do this this way, or do that that way! Prissy bitch! I shut him down, but for what? For him to make a ruckus once again! I worsen the situation by being overly impulsive and mad, my anger issues have become unbearable. Yoko makes it better but it really drags me down… I have to find my bandages…

Not under the table where I usually put them… Fuck. No, I have to focus… Maybe they’re on the bed… No… What the hell is going on…

Not in the bathroom, nor the dirty laundry, nor the kitchen or living room! Oh, no… How am I going to go to practice?

Though I’m mad at McCartney, that doesn’t mean I could just fuck over Ritch and Geo. But would it really make a difference if I came as Julia for once? I know we had some rehearsals as the Beatles where I was meself but I really dunno. That was so long ago… Yoko has disappeared off to somewhere. That is by itself quite unusual. Maybe we had an argument or something, I can’t remember… I remember what I did yesterday but some parts were unbelievable and hazy because of the drugs. Anyway, I think there is no harm in going as me. I could dress up as Johnny without my bandages but I think I’m going to go all in. My main dresser hasn’t been open in god knows how long! So, um, what colour should I wear… Green is my favourite… Hm… This one is simple yet elegant - not really that a rocker needs to look elegant. We aren't going to make much progress today. I can feel it. 

Door is locked. Driver doesn’t need to know about Julia. Taxi called. Got in!

“Hello, where to?”

“Twickenham Studios.”

“Alright, miss…”, oh god, he is looking at me inquisitively. Though he could only be killing his boredom that way. Just smile, Lennon, smile.

It feels so nice to be out of the spotlight. No personal driver, no substances, no one! So fun.

“Miss, you look oddly familiar… I think I’ve seen you in magazines and newspapers… Aren’t you like a singer or something?”, ugh.

“Oh, I get that a lot. No, I work as a nurse.”

“Nurse, well, that’s odd… I could’ve sworn I’ve seen you…”

Please, not today, not today.

“Sorry I asked that. We should be arriving at Twickenham real soon, so prepare the amount as it’s written on the little list.”

Twickenham, Twickenham! Oh. Here it is. Fine, I’ll give him that amount. Maybe even… No, Lennon, that would be awfully stupid of you! You had to lie… You don’t need to own up to it. Though it would be silly. Imagine I give him a simple autograph from John Lennon himself and he concludes it’s me! Funny, but if we were real for a moment, he wouldn’t have a clue if it’s real and maybe wouldn’t even find it. I’ll plant it somewhere. Maybe make two, one for the driver, one for the guest. Or more if someone really checks well. Hahah!

Twickenham Studios. Welp, I’m here. Very, very late. I hope the lads have made some progress.

“Goodbye, sir, and thank you for your service.”

“You paid me Miss.”

I must be smiling so wide. Miss. I missed being called a Miss. Still, I need to get to the studio, and oh lord, there are so many Beatlemaniacs at the entrance waiting to come in. I feel sorry for John fans because they won’t see him today. Let me through!

“Do you have any sort of clearance, Miss? We cannot just let anyone in.”

“Don’t you “Miss” me!”, oh, god, I have used my John voice in front of about a dozen people.

“I ask you again, what is your reason to go inside? And I do not take “seeing the Beatles live” as a valid reason.”

Well, as you see, I am a Beatle. Yeah, you know, the one that is quite late and should be getting to her lads who are hard at work-who am I kidding, they’re panicking because I’m still not there. You know, John Lennon?

“I’m really sorry… But…”, should I try that or… Is there a backdoor? No, I don’t think so. Even if there was, it’s smarter to be clear with the guards.

“I need to see my twin brother John for a private reason. If you don’t believe me, ask the other Beatles, they could vouch for me, I know them quite well. Name’s Julia Victoria Lennon.”

The guard looked over at me.

“Well, I do see the resemblance, but I still have to check with the others. I’ll be back.”

I’m in deep trouble with McCartney today, aren’t I?

It feels like centuries are passing by? A lot of girlies went home by now. Where is that guard? I’ll check out what the remaining weird Beatlemaniacs like to do and tell the lads if it’s funny.

“Who are you here for? I’m for George.”

“I’m for Paul, obviously he is the most handsome.”

“I’m for Ringo, he is so silly.”

“I agree with the most handsome part. Um, I'm here for a different reason.”, smile.

“Oh… Still, sad John’s missing all morning.”, the George girl told me.

“All morning! He f-messed up so bad.”, is this good acting?

“Yeah, I hate it when he makes Paul mad.”, the McCartney girl said.

“McCartney is mad. Oh, there is going to be so much drama.”, why am I talking?

“I think they’re going to work it out for sure.”, Ritchie girl, you are so cute.

“Yeah… yeah.”

The guard walked out and the girls rushed by my side.

“They confirmed it. I’ll show you the way to their practice room. Mr. Lennon is still not here.”

“Aww, well, show me the way and I’ll follow!”

The girls were starry eyed.

“How is she getting in?” 

“Haven’t you heard the theory that John has a twin sister? It’s true. That’s so fab!”

“Can you get us in?”

Oh fuck. Of course they scream. My poor ears. I already have bad eyesight. I don’t need poor hearing as well.

“No need to show the way, sir, I’ll do it.”, McCartney the Prick shows up at last, “And girls you can’t go in, just esteemed guests such as uninvited Julia Victoria Lennon could come in.”

The girls sighed. McCartney was fuming under that smile of his.

Close the door. Turn around. And I think I’m going to get yelled at right about now!

“JULIA VICTORIA LENNON! How did you get this late to the studio! And why aren’t you here as John? We have made absolutely ZERO progress without you, Jules! Ugh!”

“Can I enter a room without you fighting with me or do I have to dream of it? For that matter, how come you didn’t get inspired? Were you too lazy? Huh, JAMES PAUL MCCARTNEY?”

Geo and Rings are tuning their instruments. They look tired. I’m happy they’re smiling. Weak smile from me to them. 

“Wait a second, lads, where are the wives? And George Martin?”

“In the lunchroom! Hello, Julia!”, George, stop running towards me, you’ll trip on a cable.

FUH. The others were far away to hear this conversation. But they would be coming back. 

Sigh. “Thank God, they aren’t here yet.”

Aww, Geo, no need for hugs. Ritch too? Looks like they missed their sis Jules a lot.

“Hi.”, Ritch…

Where’s my chair? Oh, there it is. This screw like this, that one like that and voila! Tuned guitar!

“That is quite a nice dress… It compliments your eyes…”, McCartney hadn’t complimented me in a while based on my physical appearance.

“Thank you… Paul.”

Of course he blushes, of course. Does he miss his Julia? What am I thinking? No, he doesn’t.

“Then lads and… birdies.”, McCartney started the session.

“I’m a lad too, you git!”

“Lads! Let’s run through the program again.”

“One, two, three, four!”

Sing, play, fuck up the rhythm, fuck up the harmony, then be a genius and get it even better. I hear footsteps! Stop playing! I got off the chair and left my guitar.

The birds are here. Glynnis is with them. Wait, Glynnis is with them! OH SHIT!

“John came?”

“No, I’m his twin sister, Julia.”, fuck we were filming!

“Is this a joke or no, you are female.”

“I know my brother is such a comedian! Um, where is he?

“I think he won’t be coming today… He is too late and the footage is already taken.”, aww, Glynnis is sad. Thank goodness I didn’t get caught.

Paul, stop panicking. Geo is going to fuck up his eye and Ringo is smiling too wide and fake to my liking.

“But I’m sure I heard John’s voice.”, Glynn, don’t think about it.

“You are John’s sister! Pleasure to meet you! My name is Maureen.”, this is not going to end well.

“Hullo.”, I did my traditional John greeting.

“Hi, my name is Linda.”, oh, Linda… A nice woman. No wonder why Paul decided to be with her. Reminds me of a certain best friend I haven’t seen in a while…

“Great to see you, Julia!”

“Oh, Pattie, I’m glad to see you too!”, aww a hug.

“Well, what has John done this time?”, Pattie… Why?

“John and I need to talk about Aunt Mimi and private things so I can’t tell you.”

“Oh, oh, that’s fine.”, Linda the assurer, “No need if it’s a touchy subject.”

“Thanks.”, a wide smile.

“You remind me of him.”, Maureen thought, “No wonder you are twins when you both look and act so aloof. Though, you have impeccable style, Julia.”

“I know.”, ha. I feel so pretty.

“So, let’s sit over there while the men play.”, Linda, guide us. 

“Oh, great Linda, show me the way.”, what a joke.

She chuckled.

“Weird… I like it! Well, my little follower, we have arrived to the chairs of nevermore! Once you sit down, there is a high chance you’ll spend the next five hours sitting down on them.”

“Rest my weary bones.”, another joke from the master herself.

They all laughed.

I forgot what girl gossip was like- Wait, I can talk about my favourite topic. Are there any mags on the table? Yeahh! Great, let me just open it and ask the girlies.

“Who is your favourite actor?”

“GAH, very hard!”, Maureen is practically squeaking, “I like… Cary Grant..”

“I like Tom Selleck, he is handsome.”, Pattie outright admitted. Cool.

“Hm… Tough, but I would say, hm, hm, Tony Curtis.”, good pick Linda.

“I love James Dean. He is beautiful and inspirational…”, best answer.

I am already having fun. I never thought I’d miss mindless traditional girl topics and here I am. Ahhh, this feeling is so nostalgic. 

“Julia, where do you get your dresses from?”, Maureen asked.

“Hm, it really depends. Some are from Liddypool and some are from here. This one for example is from boutiques. I think this one is from “Biba”. “

“You have to introduce me to all of them, I’m a fish out of water here… Tough being an American in England.”

“Oy, Linda, don’t worry. You fit right in. But if you want some gear clothing, I can show ya!”, silly Linda.

“If you want a great place for shoes I would recommend Saxon’s. A little bit expensive, but fashionable.”, Pattie is right.

“Is money really a problem for us?”

Haha, of course they chuckle. I feel like I could do this all day. Why are they looking at each other so weird?

“Julia, I hope this is alright with you, but we like to play a game where we try to guess when John will come and why he’s late.”, Pattie asked

Oh my God. Hahahahhahah.

“Alright! It’s funny, tell me what are your bets?”

“I think John will come in ten minutes. He overslept and got stuck in traffic.”, well Pattie is half right.

“I think John will come in half an hour. He was writing something at the flat and forgot about the rehearsal. John is aloof like that.”, Linda is off by a long shot, but that is a possibility that could happen.

“I think John will come in an hour, because he doesn’t care for rehearsals and is purposely avoiding the rest of the band. Ringo is suffering so much because of his shenanigans.”, Maureen is half right too. I don’t care as much for rehearsals as I used to but I wouldn’t abandon my friends because of boredom.

“What’s your bet?”

“He won’t come… If they told him about me, he wouldn't come.”, why am I sad? Why would I be sad? Why are the girls sad? Pattie understands, those two are confused.

“John and I are sometimes close and sometimes distant. Mostly distant. It’s not even because of fame, it's because of our different paths in life and how much we don’t agree with our world view… I think the only thing that connects us now is music.”, good thinking, me!

“That doesn’t mean he won’t come to talk to you… Maybe he wants to work things out?”, Linda is quite an empath.

“You are right, Linda, I should hope for the best outcome.”, smile. The girls are smiling too. I should let them get back to some lighter topic. What is this conversation in the other room?

“John should’ve already come!”, that’s Yoko for sure.

“He still isn’t here. Your husband is making us wait a long time for rehearsal.”, Glynn was correct. But John couldn’t come.

“That man is-I can’t believe it! Maybe he sleeps too long but he would never do this!”

“Well, obviously he did it. Look at the band. They are tired and miserable, they wouldn’t want that on footage. The staff feels the same. I feel like I am wasting my time, and I do not want to feel that way when I am doing a project with the Beatles.”

“That’s not important. What’s important is that he isn’t home… God knows where he is.”

Lads are on the brink of rolling their eyes at Yoko and pointing to me.

“Look, he made you come here and waste your time, the band’s, his sister’s, the wives’ and ours.”

“Say again?”, oh no.

“The band’s, his sister-”

“Oh, Julia. That’s unexpected.”, she is going to kill me.

“Yes, I never knew he had a twin sister.”

“He never found her that important. I’ll sit and wait there then, then I’ll go back to the flat and check if he’s back.”

“Thank you Mrs. Ono.”

She is coming this way. Don’t make a scene, don’t make a scene, don’t do anything.

“Hello.”

“Yoko, finally, is John with you?”, Pattie asked, “See, I was right that he would come in ten minutes!”

“No, John is not with me.”

“What a pity.”, I did not need to snark. Fuck, her eyes are full of anger and flames. Kind of hot if you ask me.

“Julia, we haven’t seen each other in person yet.”

“Yoko, nice to meet you.”

I am on the edge of bursting with laughter, I have literally said to my wife nice to meet you, ahhahah.

She isn’t in the same mood.

“If you want to talk with John and I’m sure you are here for that reason I could tell him later what you said.”

“No. No need for that with you. But there is a certain thing I want to discuss with you.”

We are getting heated. About to have another scolding lesson from my wife.

“Then everyone, we’ll be back soon.”, Yoko’s smile radiated her rage.

“See you later.”, Linda smiled blissfully ignorant.

“See ya.”, what a greeting Lennon.

We walked to the other room. Silly girls whispering: “I think she is best friends with John’s ex wife so she is surely going to discuss that with Yoko.” I miss Cynthia, she was the greatest. But John, John isn’t great for her anymore. John is a bad bad bad thing for women and only Yoko can handle him.

“Lennon, why are you here without one makeup, two bandages- And your glasses are John’s not Julia’s! For you it would only take one night of drinking to blow your cover!”, Yoko I know. A small pause.

“Sometimes you act like child.”

“I am child, dearest.”

She chuckled.

“Yeah, you are the most big, I mean biggest child I saw.”

“Love you too, Yoko.”

“How are they going to practice?”

“Should I just call them from a random phone and tell them that- OR NO!”

“What great idea do you have?”

“You go there and tell them that John told you he is not coming to practice.”

“Okay, John…”

“And when dusty old Glynnis goes away I can practice with the lads with no stupid cameras.”

“Not a bad idea, love!”, a small kiss on my cheek.

“Then go and execute the mission, commander.”

“Of course, general.”

That’s clear. I am going back to the main room.

“Have you cleared everything up?”, Pattie, don’t worry.

“Yeah, I’m glad that’s over with!”, sigh, smile.

“I knew that everything would be fine!”, Linda is cheery.

“Where is Yoko?”, Maureen questioned. Of course.

“I dunno, we both went back here…”, hahah excuses excuses.

Well, that wasn’t that long.

“John called!”, she is running towards the lads.

The rest of the Beatles look unamused. I think they’ve been waiting to make progress but they are one member short and that member is just in the other room. Glynn lit up.

“And?”

“He is not coming. He is feeling sick.”

“Well, he should recover and help us create a program for the concert!”, Paul, the greatest actor.

“Looks like Julia was right…”, Linda was saddened.

“Don’t worry, he’ll come to the next practice early I bet! Even though he is lazy he is responsible.”

“That isn’t a word I’d describe your brother with but alright.”, Maureen!

“That would mean that practice is over and the rest needs help packing.”, George Martin sighs. Don’t look over here, don’t look over here, don’t look- Well, too late. His eyes widened.

“Yes, you’re right.”, Glynn is packing. My plan is working. Glynn and the crew packed so fast and went so quick!

“Pattie, please go home, this wasted so much time!”, Geo has figured my plan out.

“You too, Maureen, it will be a long while till we pack.”

Linda is sad.

“Are you going to shoo me away too?”, did she ask Paul like that? I could never do that so softly like her…

“I don’t want to waste your time any further.”, Paul’s chuckles…

“I’ll be going too.”, Yoko…

“Tell him you have seen me, alright… And that I’m fine with you.”

“I know you’re fine with me… You are more than happy with me.”, Yoko, you genius.

“Bye, everyone.”, they all said in unison.

So many byes have been exchanged. The staff goes away. So, George Martin, the lads and I are left.

“John, you absolute idiot.”, George Martin why?

“I forgot where my bandages were.”

Don’t facepalm yourself, Paulie!

“Julia… You git! Made us practice without you for so long!”

“I was there.”

“You have to be at your guitar not with the birds!”, Geo was angry.

“If you are so excited for practice I’ll practice with you!”

“Yay, we are all here!”, Ringo, you cutie.

The real practice began. We made some progress! A few more songs. Ahh, I know Hazza’s look.

“Paul, we should run through one Harrisong.”

“Which one, Jules?”

“Which one, Geo?”

“Um, “I Me Mine.””

“Alright, boys, let’s do “I Me Mine” and finish with “Don’t Let Me Down”.”

“How fitting Julia, since you decided to come and be active in practice.”, gah! I can’t say Paul isn’t right.

“One, two, three, four-”

We sounded great! Geo was very happy he got permission to do the song. For “Don’t Let Me Down” it still needs work. I scramble the text a million times, and Paul’s harmony is just too much! Ritch is great on both of the songs. Hazza is great on mine but on his song, his guitar playing seems to falter when he sings. Macca is perfect at playing but his constant nagging can be noticed even in the songs. Gotta cut back.

“Got that on tape?”

“It’s not tape-worthy!”

“Paul. Stop being overbearing to everyone here!”

His eyes literally want to set me on fire.

“Lennon, it’s necessary to get the best results!”

“Well, McCartney, as Monroe said, nobody's perfect! So, we got to keep most of the takes! You never know…”

Oh, softened. Geo and Ritchie are sad. God, let’s just go home.

“Let’s get packing then boys-”

Ah, what are you doing, hey, no, we see each other every single day- You already hugged me today!

“Oh, what is happening?”

“Julia, we missed you so much!”, Geo, no.

“Can you be more active like today, please! Please!”, Ringo stop.

“Julia…”, Paul finally decides to hug me, “My Julia…”

“People, this is just for today. I’ll be sure not to mess up again, and I’ll come as John-”

“No, don’t be away! Please! Don’t go to some place where we can’t reach you!”, what is this man talking about? 

“Geo is right, we can’t reach John.”, Ritch is spilling bullshit-

“We are exactly the same person.”

“NO, YOU ARE NOT! John hates me!”

“And you still think I love you?”

Oh, Geo and Ritch didn’t know we had a fight. Fuck.

“Lads. I promise I’ll be more active. Even as John, who has a big ego.”

“Arrive on time please, that’s how I’ll see you care!”

“Macca, I promise.”

“Alright, Lenny.”, a bit too tight of a hug!

We have to pack. Well, I’ll hug ‘em a bit more.

“Lads, you stayed a whole hour after closing. We should get packing and get going before someone barges in.”, father Martin always on schedule.

“You heard him.”, good leading me, “Time to say goodbye for the night.”

Finally, I’m free. But I missed those long big hugs. So, let’s put the guitar in place, done! Purse… Still at the women’s part. Taken! Put on the jacket… 

“Anyone need any help?”, this is the last thing I need to do.

“No love!”, fine Macca.

“Yeah, no need, I’m all set.”, Rings too.

“No.”, Geo looks like he can’t get his things together but alright. But, he finished as fast as Paulie.

“George Martin, I promise I will check my costume parts before going to bed so as to not arrive as Julia again when we are filming, which I also forgot.”

Martin chuckled.

“I can count on that, Lennon.”

“Yeah. Lads, I’ll see ya tomorrow then, I should be calling a taxi now-”

“No, Julia, I’ll drive ya.”, of course.

“Well, Macca is drivin’ ya then. See ya two later.”, Geo, do not support him.

“And did I accept?”

“What’s the harm there, Jules? See ya.”, Ritch winked.

“I’ll be seeing you, The Beatles.”, Martin left, closing the studio.

Leaving me and prissy pants alone.

“Are you happy?”

“Yeah, I’m happy you are willing to talk to me like I’m a normal human being, not a rival.”

“Um, if you want to drive me home so much, I’ll allow it.”, do not blush. He isn’t worth your time anymore.

His car is close. He is quiet… Passenger seat! He has the key of his car but he isn’t starting the car yet.

“Julia…”

“Paul…”

A minute of silence.

“I…”

“You…”

“You see how much fun we had today… You brightened up our day as Julia. We missed you.”

“Already know that.”

“I missed you.”

“I know that too.”

“Julia! What I am saying is! You should retire John once and for all.”

“I’m not doing that.”

No. He did not say that-

“We’ll make up something for John. Love, I want you with me. Doesn’t have to be the Beatles, though I love that the most…”

“John is the Beatles… He is as much your songwriting partner as I am.”

“You’re right. We’ll break up the Beatles and make our own thing.”

“But you, you care about the Beatles!”

“Of course! They are my everything, but John, John hates me, he hates me so much it’s unbearable.”

“I don’t hate you as John.”, god why is he so sad, “And why would you want to retire a part of me! Then you don’t love me fully!”

“I love you both! It’s just- You are now so different as John it’s killing me… Ever since Yoko…”

“Yoko? No. She isn’t at fault. I am.”

“No, she is manipulative and money grabbing and she makes important decisions for you! She dragged you further into drugs!”

“You can’t say that about my wife!”

No, Paul don’t…

“You are still John aren’t you? Say that you hate me! Say it!”

No, no, Macca!

“Macca, I love you.”

A small kiss. A nothing kiss.

“I love you to the moon and back. If there is anyone that understands me, it’s you. And I understand your prissy ass quite well too.”

A small breezy chuckle.

“That’s the Paul I know.”

“I love you, Julia.”

“Let’s forget about this sobby part. I’ll try to be better, I swear.”

“Then let’s get you home, darling.”

“Wait, Paul… I’ll think about it. Alright?”

“Really?”

“I will. But don’t get your hopes up.”

Another chuckle. God, I love that man. I need to sleep. 

“Julia, wake up.”, smooth and silky, what a nice voice.

“Already here, aww.”

“Well, Jules, Johnny, see you tomorrow.”

“See you, pretty princess.”

Oh, oh! A kiss on the- I haven’t kissed him in so- Wait! Another one. And another one. And a couple more.

“I’m heading now.”

“I love you.”

“I adore you, Paul McCartney, I adore you. Remember that. Any bit of rivalry as John is because I want to be like you so organized, experimental and polite. Though, I don’t like leaning into it as much as you do! Bye.”

Oh god, he is crying. That is cute.

“I love you, my smart woman. I love you so much. Even though there is another, I love only-”

He drove away. Couldn’t hear the last part. But I guess he wants to say he loves me the most. Funny… What a nice day. Yoko is asleep. Get ready for sleep. Get in the bed. Close your eyes. Imagine… Imagine… Imagine everything goes well after you abandon John… No… That can’t be… That will never happen… Never… But it’s lovely to imagine…

Rest of Sacrifame

[pearls-place]

His silver outfit in that music video was such a look I wanna steal it haha as well as all of his outfits. I’d imagine his closet must be MASSIVE, I once saw a photo of him with all of his shoes taken in like the late 70s and WOW he’s got a LOT. I’d be overwhelmed with all those choices haha! Do you have a favorite Elton look??

Surprisingly it’s actually the other way around Willow is very chill while Blue is always up to something. Last night she had the Christmas tree leaning one way but luckily I caught it before it fell. 😑 Maggie looks like she’s so sweet but I bet she gets herself into a lot of trouble too haha!

My favorite thing to do was play outside too. Where I grew up we’d get SO much snow and it’d stick around from early November to mid May so I had a lot of snow days. I was always out in it sledding or making snow creatures & stuff like that with friends. For Christmas I really hope I get a new keyboard!! The one I have now I bought used for really cheap and it sounds kinda bad so it’d be nice to get a new one! How about you, what do you hope to get for Christmas? Also, another question: If you could have any job in the world for one day, what would it be?

Hope you have a good Monday! :)

-🎻

Hello!

Omg yess I want all of his outfits too and yeah I’ve seen that picture before I think! I love a lot of his looks, and his style has helped me come out of my own shell. I love all the outrageous flamboyant stage costumes like the rainbow feathered one, the white feathered one, the shimmery dodgers uniform, the many overalls (the blue one, the red white and black, the one he wore when he performed with John Lennon), all the classics! But I also like a lot of his more “casual” pieces like the patched jean jacket, the funky t-shirts, and the leisure suits. I also love his green jacket that says ‘Elton’ on the back (the one from the Goodbye Yellow Brick Road cover). I also love all of his hats and especially the platform shoes! And of course…all of the glasses :)) How about you? Do you have a favorite look?

Oh my, lucky you caught it in time! The pictures you sent are deceiving haha Maggie can get into trouble if she wants to, but she prefers to just be a diva all day. She’s a fan of naps, snuggles, hogging all couches/beds/cushions, and stretching out in front of the fireplace. Oh, yeah, and stealing food haha! How about the kitties, what are their favorite things (other than sabotaging the Christmas tree)?

Oh nice, that sounds awesome! We get some snow worthy of snow days here, but a lot of times it’s just flurries that last for a day or so…there were a couple times we get a lot though! According to the weather guys, we’re supposed to get a snow storm this weekend…but who knows? Oooo I hope you get a good one! Keyboards can be tricky to get everything you’re looking for…I have one that’s alright, the sound quality could be better but it has all of the features I use for now. Needs a better sustain pedal though…you’ll have to let me know what kind you get if you get one, and if you like it! For Christmas, I asked for this music software called Finale that has a really good MIDI system and is perfect to transcribe music. It’s pretty expensive though, which is why it’ll have to be a Christmas gift haha

If I could have any job, I’d want to be a ✨rockstar✨ hehe because I’m hoping that my path in life takes me in that direction anyways haha how about you?

I hope you have a great day!

- Pearl :D

[myaimistrue]

part one of the fic for my content creator celebration! in this one, season five cas learns a little bit about how to take care of people from bobby <3 part two will be up tomorrow! EDIT: part two is available now here!

read on ao3

Castiel watches Dean sleep.

He knows he’s not supposed to. It’s something Dean’s told him plenty of times, usually in that hushed whisper Castiel has grown so familiar with over the past weeks spent in hotel rooms and Bobby’s house with the Winchesters, all those early mornings and late nights. But he thinks even Dean would allow him this, if he were awake. He thinks Dean would understand why Castiel has to stay here, has to watch over him.

They were ambushed by some of Castiel’s brothers and sisters this afternoon. Castiel is still strong enough to have fought most of them off, with Sam and Dean’s help, but he wasn’t strong enough to prevent Dean from being seriously hurt, let alone to heal him.

But Bobby patched him up well. Sam and Castiel brought Dean back here as quickly as they could, and Bobby worked efficiently. The wide cut on Dean’s torso is shallow, fortunately, and Bobby cleaned and bandaged it carefully. The dislocated shoulder has been popped back into place, and with the minor flickers of his remaining grace, Castiel was able to soften Dean’s head injury to a mild concussion that should heal within the week. If you weren’t looking closely, Castiel thinks, you might not even realize Dean was injured at all.

The quiet is broken by the familiar sound of floorboards shifting as Bobby’s wheelchair crosses them. Castiel doesn’t bother to look away from Dean to greet him.

“You gotta sleep,” Bobby says gruffly as he comes to a stop beside the old chair Castiel is hunched over in. He eyes him knowingly. “I know you hate it, but you’re pretty damn close to human these days. You need rest the same way we all do.”

“I’m watching over Dean,” Castiel says, gaze locked on the curve of his cheek, the way his faint freckles stand out especially by the light of the desk lamp.

“Well, I’ve been doing that his whole damn life,” Bobby grouses. “So why don’t you go lay down before I kick your ass all the way there?”

Castiel looks over, and Bobby’s arms are crossed firmly across his chest. A thread of fondness runs through him, for the man who made sure the Winchester boys grew up with some sort of unconditional love, and has now taken Castiel in the same way: with plenty of grumpiness, but an ever-present undercurrent of kindness and care. Fondness for Bobby, who taught Castiel how to make salt rounds, who makes sure to buy the sugary cereal he has recently become fond of, who has healed Dean now that Castiel is now unable to.

“You did well with him,” Cas says quietly. They’re both looking at Dean, his peacefulness in sleep. Castiel tries not to think of the way Dean cried out in pain as Bobby and Sam popped his shoulder back in place, the pale line of agony in his face as Bobby cleaned out the cut on his torso. “You made it as quick and painless as possible.”

“I’ve been patching him up since he still had his baby teeth,” Bobby says. He looks at Dean like a father would—like Dean is something to be proud of, to protect and to love at any cost. Castiel wonders if his own Father ever looked at him like that, even once.

“I remember, one of the first times John dropped them here.” Bobby’s voice has taken on the tone it does when he’s telling a story, and Castiel feels himself relax further into the chair at the familiarity of it. “Sam was still real little, so Dean had to be five or six, maybe? He tripped down the porch steps one day, scraped up his hands and knees. He didn’t even tell me.” Bobby chuckles softly. Castiel watches him, enraptured by this story, this new sliver of Dean he doesn’t already know. “I found him standing on a chair in the kitchen trying to reach a bottle of vodka. Guess John never taught him about antiseptic.” A shadow passes over Bobby’s face, an angrier version of what Castiel has seen on Dean and Sam when discussing their father. “So, I sat him down and started cleaning him up, and he was so quiet. Wouldn’t say anything, just screwed his face up and kept his mouth shut, even though I knew it must’ve hurt like a bitch.”

“It’s hard to imagine Dean being quiet,” Castiel says.

“He was a quiet kid,” Bobby replies. “Wasn’t until he got to be a teenager that he started this whole macho motormouth routine. Before that, he didn’t talk much, especially if he didn’t know you well.” He sighs. Castiel wonders if he misses that version of Dean. “Anyway, I told him, you’ll feel better if you let some of that pain out. It hurts worse when you keep it all inside. He just kept staring at me, so then I said, if you don’t tell your daddy, I’ll let you cuss. Just this one time. And his eyes got so wide, and I poured some antiseptic on the worst of it, and like he couldn’t help it, the kid goes, oh fuck, Bobby!”

They’re both laughing then, hushed as they can be in the quiet twilight so as to not wake Dean. Castiel can picture it easily, big green eyes swallowing up Dean’s tiny face, the way the curse word would’ve spilled out of him and surprised him more than anybody else. That child seems so close and still so far away from the sleeping man in front of them.

“I couldn’t quit laughing,” Bobby continues, still laughing in the present day. “And I swear, Dean smiled so wide I thought his face was gonna split in half. By the time I finished bandaging him up, the kid’d run through just about every cuss in the book, and he wasn’t crying about his hands and knees anymore.”

Castiel’s laughter goes quiet, and so does Bobby’s, until they’re both looking at Dean again, at the man who made it so that they see each other as far more than just reluctant allies, so that they now know each other as family. Dean shifts in his sleep, and the wrap on his shoulder shifts along with him. Unthinking, acting on a terrifyingly human instinct, Castiel reaches out and straightens it with a gentle touch, smoothing over Dean’s shoulder with careful hands.

He feels Bobby’s eyes on him. Castiel wonders, as he often does, if he has crossed some unspoken line with Dean, if he’s done something a human would know better than to do, something Bobby and everyone else can see right through. Sometimes, he thinks they all know something he doesn’t.

“Dean means a whole lot to you, don’t he?” Bobby finally says. His voice is low, almost kind.

Castiel thinks of Dean’s soul in Hell, glowing warm and golden. He thinks of how he’d fallen to his knees beside Dean after Afriel knocked him aside this afternoon, the rushing and roiling panic. He thinks of how he can’t ever look away from Dean, even when he’s angry, even when he’s scared.

“Yes,” Castiel says. “Yes, he does.”

Bobby searches Castiel’s face, and seems satisfied with whatever he finds there—he claps Castiel on the shoulder, squeezes once, then lets go. “Now, you go the hell to sleep. I’ll wake you up when Dean does.”

Castiel, who’s starting to think that if there’s anyone he can trust to watch over Dean, it’s the man beside him, doesn’t argue. 

[inkandpen22]

The Princess and The Pogue (pt. 3)

Pairing: JJ x Female!Reader / Topper x Female!Reader 

Warnings: underage drinking, mild swearing, mentions of drugs 

Words count: 2k (it’s short but the next part is long) 

Part Summary: As the night dwindles away, JJ feels pressured to secure a place in your life. His chances grow times ten when Sarah arrives with some interesting news. 

Masterlist

You and JJ share a log around the fire. His arm rests over your thigh, his hand gripping your knee slightly. Your chin rests on his shoulder as you two exchange whisper back and forth, making the Pogues sick with how lovey-dovey you two already are becoming. 

“What are you doing tomorrow?” JJ asks, kinda hoping he could ask you for real date but he’ll understand if you already have plans. 

“Hanging out with you,” you cheekily answer, earning a blushing grin from him. 

“Oh! cool, cool...” He presses his lips together with a faint laugh, finding it hard to hide his childish grin. 

You giggle at his bashfulness. He’s so shy around you and you can’t help but find it adorable. 

"Here comes Sarah!" Kiara announces as he spots their friend's car rolling up the drive. 

You and JJ finally break your hype-focused attention away from each other. Almost to make up for the lack of verbal communication, JJ shifts closer to you and plants a quick peck to your temple. 

"Hey! Sorry for the delay!" Sarah announces as she walks over from her car. John B rises from his position, trying to intercept Sarah before she sees you and JJ. Once she reaches John B, she notices how you and JJ are sitting. Her brows scrunch together, but she does her best to mask her confusion. "My parents were having a hissy fit about me borrowing the car. I told them and Y/N's parents that we were staying the night at Kiara's since she doesn't feel well. I hope that's okay, Kie," she asks as she gets closer to the bonfire. 

"Yeah, no problem!" Kiara waves her hand, not caring at all. 

"Wait, so what's the game plan?" You ask Sarah, but also everyone else for their input. You're thankful for the group's help, but weren't exactly prepared for an overnight stay. You understand why Sarah did this nonetheless. 

"You all can stay here tonight," John B shrugs as the Pogues do it all the time.��

"Your parents believed it," Sarah assures you. "I would just text your parents to help it seem more legit." 

"Okay! I'll text my mom," you comply with enthusiasm. 

Hey, I told Sarah to tell you but in case she didn't, we're staying over at Kiara's tonight. I had to drive her home in her dad's car because we think she got food poisoning or something. I'll text you when I'm heading out in the morning. Sarah can drive me home or something :)

"Finally! It'll be nice not being the only girl! I was kinda hoping you and Sarah would stay over anyway," Kiara adds, offering you a kind smile. 

"That makes two of us," JJ whispers for only you to hear. 

"My folks were pretty pissed about me ditching on the party, so I feel no urge on going home," Sarah huffs, right as John B asks for her to help him inside real quick. 

You and JJ watch as John B escorts Sarah inside by the arm. They try to be nonchalant, but it's so obvious they're freaking out. Sarah's whispers aren't exactly quiet and John B's doing his best to fill her in on what he knows. 

JJ turns his face toward yours with a smirk, suppressing his laughter. "They're definitely talking about us." 

"Oh for sure!" You nod slowly with a snicker. 

You two share in your amusement as your friends slowly lose their minds. A Pogue from The Cut was caught kissing the Princess of the OBX. If your friends from the other side of the island found out they would have an even more dramatic reaction. 

Your phone buzzes in your lap and it's from your mom. 

Ok. Text me when you wake up. 

"All set!" You voice to everyone remaining around the fire. "I doubt they'll even care since "I'm still on the Figure 8,” you make air quotes. 

"Yay!" Kiara claps her hands. 

"I say we watch a scary movie tonight!" JJ suggests beside you. 

"The Conjuring!" You vote swiftly, earning a laugh from JJ. 

"No!" Pope instantly refuses. "Nope! Last time we watched that you guys made me sleep on the porch and I heard creeks all night!" 

"Aw, I'll stay with you tonight Pope," Kiara offers, reaching for her friend's hand with a pout. "I'll keep you safe from all the ghosties." 

JJ leans in brushes his lips against your ear. "You gonna keep me safe?" 

You smile softly, turning your head toward him as you nod slowly. "I'll have your back if you have mine." 

His beautiful eyes meet yours in the gold flickering light of the fire. "Always, Baby." He plants a kiss to your lips, this time slow and comforting, as though you two have been doing it forever. 

___________________________________________________________

All six of you are gathered in the living room, watching The Conjuring. John B and JJ insisted that all lights in the house must be off, much to Pope's dismay. Kiara and Pope are positioned on the carpet, their backs against the couch. Pope has been hiding in a ball with his face behind the blanket he shares with Kiara. Sarah and John B are sprawled comfortably on the couch, well invested in the movie. You and JJ share the old red recliner, tucked close in a ball under a comforter. Right before the movie starts to get interesting, you shift forward in your position. JJ whines, disappointed in the loss of contact. His pouty face makes you giggle and he playfully tries to keep you close by holding onto your wrist. 

"I need another drink, anyone else?" You offer quietly, making sure not to step on Kiara or Pope on the floor on the way to the kitchen. You receive various forms of declines as you do your best to navigate your way through the dark and unfamiliar house. 

Finally finding yourself in the kitchen, you make yourself a glass of water. The moonlight shining through the window over the sink acts as your saving grace. Suddenly, you feel a pair of arms slip around your waist, causing you to jump. 

"Hey, Gorgeous," the blonde whispers against your neck. 

"JJ!" You gasp your heart racing. 

"Did I scare you?" He chuckles quietly to not alert the others. 

You spin in his hold and nudge him on the shoulder playfully. "You did that on purpose!"

"Not really but-" In one swift motion, JJ picks up and places you on the counter. He parts your legs to stand between them. His palms glide up and down your thighs. "That I did mean to do," he smirks, biting down on his lip. 

"JJ! Y/N! You're going to miss the wardrobe part!" Pope shouts, his voice shaky with fear. 

"I wish I had spoken to you sooner," JJ confesses abruptly, completely his friend in the next room. All he cares about right now is you. 

"Dido," you smirk, placing your arms over JJ's shoulders. 

"Really?" He voices in disbelief. Despite how much you've reassured him or have reciprocated his affections, he still isn't convinced that you truly like him. 

"That first time I saw you at the Cameron's?" You recall with raised brows. "Um, yeah! You looked hot in that pale green Ron Jon shirt." 

"I can't believe you remember that," he shakes his head, leaning in closer to you. I thought there was no way you'd know who I am." 

"JJ," you say his name in a mild groan with a toss of your head. How can this boy not see how amazing he is? "You're definitely worth remembering." 

"It was at the Boneyard," he states a matter-of-factly. 

"What was?" You grin. 

"The first time I ever saw you," he tilts his head back slightly, relieving his sharp jawline. "You were dancing with Topper on the wall. The fire made your skin glow and shimmer like bronze. You wore a navy blue bikini with ripped white booty shorts. Your hair was half up and all I could think about was how much I wanted to run my fingers through it. You were the most beautiful girl I had ever seen," he tells you, never once breaking eye contact. 

"That was last summer!" You can't believe he remembers that. 

"I know," he replies as though it's completely ordinary. 

Your jaw drops, "you're saying you've been waiting to talk to me for a year?!" 

"Okay well, when you put it that way," he tries to play it off and be cool now. 

"Aw JJ!" You express a little too excitedly, bringing your hands to his cheeks. 

JJ is quick to press his hand over your mouth. "Shh, Baby. Before you alert everyone in the living room!" Mischievously, you plant a kiss on his palm, catching him off guard. JJ swallows hard, peering down at you with hooded eyes.  "Okay, now you're just teasing me." 

You place your hand over his and remove it from your mouth. "You make it too easy," you giggle in a whisper. 

JJ simply stares down at your lips as he bites down on his own. Before you have a chance to react, he hungrily presses his lips to yours. Ever kiss up until now has been gentle, new, and hesitant. Now, JJ is forgetting his nerves and is acting on impulse. He breaks away from you and moves his assault to your neck. You comb your fingers through his thick blonde hair, gripping the strands on the back of his neck. 

"JJ," you pant breathlessly as your eyes fall shut. "What are you doing?" 

"Making up for lost time," he breathes against your neck. I'm really kicking myself right now." 

"It's my fault too," you try to speak as JJ makes a track down your neck to your collarbone. "I could've at least said 'hi' instead of smiling like an idiot." 

"At least you were nice," JJ mumbles against your chest. "I was a statue. Plus, I always thought you and Rafe may be-"

"Ew! Don't even finish that sentence," you scoff in disgusts. 

"You were always at the Cameron's. He's always on top of you and watches you like a hawk," JJ explains as he pops up for air. 

"He's had a thing for me for a while now. I've turned him down," you inform him.  

JJ frowns in confusion. "Why?" 

You figured it would've been obvious, especially considering how much JJ hates Rafe. "He's an arrogant ass. He thinks he's invincible and I hate people like that." 

"Well, you can tell him you're taken now," JJ grins, leaning in to kiss you. 

"Oh, I am?" You question playfully against his lips. 

"Yep," the boy nods as he begins to glide his lips across your jawline. "You're mine... and only mine..." He whispers, making you bite your lip with anticipation. Boy, this kid knows how to get you turned on. "I'll make sure everyone in the OBX knows it too," he declares as he starts to suck on the sensitive skin on your neck. At the rate JJ is going, he's certain to leave a mark or two, just as he wanted. 

"You guys!" Kiara calls this time. 

JJ huffs with annoyance as he appears out from your neck. "Coming!" He shouts, completely unfazed by what he was just doing. "Got you're so sexy," he plants a quick peck to your lips. "I hope you know I'm going to be dying through this entire movie." 

Ever the gentleman, he grips your waist and helps you down from the counter. He slips his hand into yours and grabs your water with the other before leading the way back into the living room. 

"She couldn't find the sodas in the fridge. I had to grab a new box from the back," he conjures up as you two cross the living room toward the recliner. 

"Sureee," John B and Sarah say in unison with amusement. 

"Sorry guys, what did we miss?" You ask while you and JJ get settled. 

After you take a quick sip from your water, you place it on the side table between the recliner and the couch before getting comfortable again with JJ. 

"Nice water, Y/N." Sarah giggles as she peaks over from the couch at your hand, earning an eye roll from JJ. 

"The crazy demon lady jumped on the daughter. I hate this!" Pope rushes out to answer your question. 

"Oh my God! You're fine, Pope!" Kiara groans, not hiding her annoyance. 

"I wish it wasn't so dark in here!" Pope shouts dramatically. 

"I kinda like it," JJ purrs in your ear. 

You turn your head to the side and he plants a kiss on your lips. As the others watch the movie, you and JJ spend most of the time whispering back and forth or too caught up in each other physically to talk at all. Of course, you two are respectful of your friends and keep it PG. Yet, you can't get enough of each other. It's all so soon, energetic, and freeing. As the thought of tomorrow morning lingers in the back of your mind, you’re starting to dread the idea of parting from JJ. 

__________________________________________________

Masterlist 

Tags: @starkeythinker @bethii1 @thegunnerkelly @cc13723things

[localgenius]

The Romance of the Pear 

Sorry I’ve been mia for the last couple of months! I’ve just finished high school so that has been taking up most of my focus, but in the meantime I’ve been working on this! I don’t really know what it is tbh, but I’ve enjoyed writing it and I hope that you’ll enjoy reading it!

A story about Spencer being in love with the reader, and the reader being in love with Spencer 

tw: mentions of rape, murder, horrific actions towards women, swearing

Spencer Reid x fem!reader (13.2k) (the app might crash, so it can be an idea to read on a browser!)

The sky outside of the windows was painted a gloomy grey, raindrops falling and hitting the glass of the windows, making them the only noise in the otherwise quiet office.

Y/N was sitting at her desk, her hand fiddling idly with one of her pens as she read over one of the cases she was designated to counsel on. The knitted cardigan around her shoulder helped her to not feel the impending chill from the poor weather, and her feet had abandoned the heels and had found purchase under her body on her chair.

“Good morning sunshine,” a voice pulled her eyes away from the details of horrific killings of prostitutes in the case files.

“Morning Emily,” she smiled back, feeling her mood brighten just the slightest.

“Why are you in so early on a Monday?” Emily asked as she dropped her things down by her already cluttered desk, before she made her way over to take a seat on the edge of Y/N’s desk.

“Oh, I had to talk with Knightly down at sex crimes about this case,” she pointed down at the open case file, not protesting when Emily moved to lift it up to have a look. “And he’s going to Texas at nine, so I had to come in earlier.”

“He carves hearts into their chests?” Emily asked with disgust in her voice after she placed the file back down on the desk.

“Yeah,” Y/N dragged out the word, as she leaned forward to rest her face in her hands. “But not before he rapes and sexually mutilates them. Charming fella.”

“Sounds like a real prince charming,” Emily laughed before she moved to the kitchenette.

“Good morning Prentiss, Y/L/N,” a third voice entered the conversation as Hotch made his way through the glass double doors, rain droplets decking his coat, in a way that reminded Y/N of the way flower petals looked after a storm.

“Morning sir,” Y/N smiled at him and watched him close himself into his office for the day. 

“Why hearts though,” Emily said as she came back to reclaim her spot on the edge of the desk.

“I really don’t know,” Y/N grumbled while she leaned back in her chair, “there’s the obvious correlation with love, but the way he treats them screams anything but love and affection. So, my guess is that it has something to do with the view of prostitutes and sex. You know, maybe he believes that sex is a sin, and the only right way to have sex is in marriage, and these prostitutes just throw out their love every time they’re with a new john. But I’m honestly as lost as you are.”

“That’s a good theory,” Emily bounced back, “many people do call it ‘making love’, so if the unsub thinks that the prostitutes are just selling their bodies without a care about love, he might do it to symbolize the love that they could never have.”

“Right,” Y/N was quick to scribble it down on the page as a possible motive for the signature, “thanks Em.”

“Did you know that the shape of the symbolic heart as we know it today originated in the bottom corner of a manuscript called ‘The Romance of Alexander’ dated around 1340?” a voice spoke behind them, as it moved across the room.

“Good morning Spencer,” both Y/N and Emily said, Y/N’s eyes still locked on the file she was scribbling in. “And no, I didn’t know that” Y/N said when she was done writing, letting her eyes meet his across the divider between their desks, as Emily scurried back to her own desk to avoid being a part of the incoming info dump.

“Yeah, and the first illustration of the amorous heart was in 1250 in a picture called ‘The Romance of the Pear’, where a pear, eggplant or pinecone, there is some debate, is an allegory for the heart,” he continued as he dropped his satchel by his desk and sat in his chair before turning on his monitor.

“A pear?” Y/N asked softly, letting her fingers start to mess with the pen again.

“Hm,” Spencer continued, his honey eyes meeting hers. “In western culture the pear is also a symbol of female erotic.”

“Ooh,” Derek’s voice interrupted the quiet moment, breaking the sweet gaze between the two profilers. “Female erotic, my field of expertise.” 

“Jesus,” Y/N laughed and turned away from Spencer to face Derek as he draped his jacket over the back of his swirly chair. “Have you just dropped chivalry all together now, or what?” 

“What?” Derek asked, as Emily joined in Y/N’s laughter, “I’m just being honest. What are you and pretty boy doing speaking about female erotic at 8:30 on a Monday morning anyway?”

“I was just telling Y/N the symbolism of pears,” Spencer said, not removing his eyes from the monitor, where he was checking his emails against his will.

A smile tugged on Y/N’s lips when she remembered him coming back from being called to Hotch’s office and telling her that he was being forced to get an email account by the bureau. Both Y/N and Penelope had helped him set it up, and he had countless times sheepishly asked Y/N to help him write out a reply.

“Ah yes,” Derek teased as he took a seat in his chair, “symbolism of pears. Just a regular conversation topic on this gloomy Monday morning.”

“I don’t even want to know how on earth you got around to that topic,” Rossi added when he came walking past the clutter of desks.

“It was just-“ Y/N started to explain the obscure conversation topic as Rossi moved up the short flight of stairs.

“No! Don’t wanna hear it,” Rossi called back as he closed his office door.

The four agents shared a look of amusement as they all started on their designated work for the day, the raindrops still trailing down the planes of glass of the windows.

After an hour of silence, only occasionally being interrupted by an agent coming or going or a phone call, Y/N felt herself becoming more and more disheartened by the case on her desk. After having worked at the BAU for approximately a year now, she would have thought that she would have gotten used to the evil the team faced on a daily basis. But something about this guy, ruthlessly raping and killing innocent women, hit her a bit different than she had anticipated.

Letting her feet down from her chair she put them back in her shoes before walking over to the kitchenette to make herself a cup of tea as a comforting hug.

As she stood idly twirling the spoon around in the hot water while waiting for the sugar to dissolve, she heard the signature sound of heels thumping against the floor.

“Good morning my dear angel,” Penelope greeted cheerfully as she came in with her pink octopus mug. Penelope had seemingly decided to take it upon herself to be the sun on the gloomy day; her bright yellow dress making Y/N smile and momentarily forget the case that was patiently waiting for her back at her desk.

“Good morning Pen,” Y/N said and leaned against one of the cupboards as she watched Penelope make her daily green tea. “How was your weekend?”

“Oh, it was lovely,” she exclaimed as she poured hot water into the mug, “I babysat Henry which is always a blast, and then I went shopping and I found the cutest earrings in this small shop. I have to take you at some point!” Penelope said, letting her words come out a mile a minute, only making Y/N’s heart grow lighter. 

“I would love that Pen,” Y/N said as they started to make their way back to Y/N’s desk.

“Morning baby girl,” Derek said as he swirled his chair to look at the two girls coming back.

“Morning chocolate thunder,” Penelope said as she perched herself on the edge of his desk. “What did my wonderful Captain America replica do this weekend?” 

As the two of them lost themselves in their daily flirtations Y/N made her way back to her desk, only to find the dreaded file missing from its place. She looked around confused, before seeing the familiar pictures over on Spencer’s desk, where he was writing at lightning speed.

“Spence?” Y/N asked softly, but before she could continue, he closed the file and handed it back over to her. He simply gave her a quick, tight-lipped smile before he turned back to his own mountain of paperwork.

Slowly, not taking her eyes from the genius across from her, she opened the file, and saw how he had completed the file for her. His chicken scratches took over where her handwriting had stopped. The time pressure he had been under was clear in the simple short sentences he had scrawled down at the bottom.

Before she could exclaim her gratitude, a bimble came from Penelope’s cell phone and she let out a sad sigh before getting up from her seat on Derek’s desk.

“Duty calls avengers,” she said as she moved to Hotch’s office, while the others started to go to the briefing room. 

Before Y/N could get up, Spencer had already bounced up the flight of stairs and was quickly making his way to the briefing room.

-

“We have an icky case on our hands this time, my dear crime fighters,” Penelope said as she stood by the screen, remote ready in her hand. “Last night, a civilian found a leg wrapped in garbage bags when she took out the trash in central Indianapolis. The leg belonged to Louise Obsen, a 28 year old accountant. The remaining parts of her body were found wrapped in a similar way, dumped in various dumpsters around the block.”

The silence stretched across the briefing room as everyone took in the gruesome details of the murder.

“The dismemberment could be a forensic countermeasure,” Spencer said as he glanced over the file, “it’s easier to hide parts of the body than a whole body.”

“Do we know how the unsub dismembered the bodies?” Emily asked as she flipped through the pictures.

“Yes,” Penelope said as she swallowed harshly as she pressed a button on the remote. “The coroner says the limbs were removed with a standard saw, nothing special. But all of this happened postmortem, the COD was a gunshot to the back of the head.”

“Execution style,” JJ mumbled, “is this the only victim?”

“No,” Hotch said, eyes focused on the case file, “two weeks ago the Indianapolis PD found a young woman, Emma Day, dismembered and discarded in the same way. She was 29”

Penelope clicked on her remote, but she kept her eyes looking straight ahead. Y/N noticed the clear look of discomfort in her eyes, and silently reached down under the conference table and gave her hand a gentle squeeze of comfort.

“They certainly look alike,” Derek chimed in as he looked at the two women on the screen. “Pretty girls with black hair in their late twenties; they’re probably surrogates for the unsubs' real target.”

“What did Emma do for a living Pen?” Y/N asked, her hand still wrapped around Penelope’s.

“She worked as a caretaker at a residential facility, by all accounts she was very well liked there. Both of them were, in fact.” 

“Both low-risk victims,” Rossi pondered as he closed his file, “that means that he probably doesn’t appear as a threat.”

“Which makes him all the more dangerous,” Hotch said as he collected his files, “wheels up in 30.” 

- 

The plane ride was mostly silent after the team had gone over the case once more.

Y/N was sitting by the window, book laying open in her lap, but her mind was flying with the fluffy clouds outside of the window.

One of her hands was fiddling with the pendant of her necklace as she observed the way the ground was moving underneath the jet.

“Metamorphoses,” a gentle voice pulled her out from her reveries, and her eyes drifted away from the window to see Spencer take the seat across from her, holding a cup of strawberry tea out to her.

“Excuse me?” she asked softly, still a tad too lost in her own head to be able to catch up with him.

“Your book,” he said, gesturing to the book in her lap. “You’re reading Metamorphoses.”

“Oh yeah,” she laughed, moving to shut the book and rest it on the table in between them. “I uh,” she started as she straightened up in her seat, “I took a class in classics at university, and I found my notes a few weeks back, and I remembered how much I loved Ovid’s writing and his stories, so I went and bought it this weekend.”

“Which one is your favourite?” Spencer asked softly, taking a sip from his own mug, undoubtedly filled to the brim with a concussion of coffee and sugar.

“Do you promise you’re not going to judge me?” Y/N asked, as she teasingly raised her eyebrows as she also took a sip of her mug.

“I promise,” Spencer laughed incredulously, “I would never judge anyone who voluntarily reads Ovid.”

“Okay fair enough,” she said and let both of her hands wrap around the mug to get some heat into her hands. “It’s probably ‘Apollo and Daphne’, very unoriginal, I know.”

“No, no uh-,” Spencer was quick to sit up straighter and lean on over the table while I cleared his throat, “that one’s really good. I love it too actually.”

“You do?” Y/N asked, unconsciously leaning in closer to Spencer.

“Yeah,” he said breathlessly, “I find that there’s something beautiful in loving someone who will never love you back.”

“Beautiful?”

“Yeah, you see, it’s kind of like the oldest story known to man. Unrequited love. And I don’t know, I guess I just know the feeling. To love something that’s so far out of my reach,” he explained softly, letting his eyes fall to the coffee in his mug.

“Spencer,” Y/N mumbled softly, letting her hand creep closer to where he was gripping his mug tightly. “Nothing will ever-“

But before she could finish her sentence Emily popped up and interrupted the two of them.

“We’re landing in ten, Y/N you’re with me, we’re going to go to the different dumpsites.”

“Yeah, okay,” Y/N said breathlessly, as she watched Spencer quickly regain his posture and leaned back in his seat as he fastened his seatbelt, pretending that he hadn’t just shared something that would now be permanently engraved into Y/N’s brain.

-

“What were you and Reid talking about on the jet?”

The question pulled Y/N out of her thoughts as she was reading over the case fil once more before they arrived at the first dumpsite.

“Huh?”

Emily turned her head to quickly glance at the younger agent next to her, her sunglasses covering her mischievous eyes.

“On the jet,” she further went on, “you both looked like you were seconds away from imploding from feelings.”

“Oh,” Y/N laughed awkwardly, straightening up her back, trying to square up a bit unconsciously. “We were just talking about this book I’m reading. He just gave an interesting input on one of my favourite stories.”

“Really,” Emily teased, carefully driving into the parking space next to the alley. 

“Yeah, just talking about books,” Y/N said as she jumped out of the SUV, shutting the heavy door behind her.

The gloomy weather had thankfully stayed behind in D.C., leaving the team to soak up the lovely spring sun that shined overhead in them in Indianapolis.

“What was that about unrequited love then?” Emily continued to press on as they walked over to the group of policemen standing by the dumpsters.

“It’s the theme of the story,” Y/N grumbled before swiftly putting on a smile as a young man headed towards them.

“You must be with the BAU,” the man started as he held out his hand for the two of them to shake. 

“Yes, agents Prentiss and Y/L/N,” Emily said as she shook his hand, “Are you the lead detective on the case?”

“Yes, detective Michaels,” he said as he lifted the yellow police tape for the three of them to step under.

“Nice to meet you,” Y/N said softly smiling at him, while Emily softly laughed and shook her head to herself at the young agent when she saw Michaels already developing what the team had dubbed ‘Y/N eyes’.

One of the things that the team noticed when Y/N Y/L/N had joined the team was her extreme kindness. It challenged even Penelope’s something that they hadn’t thought was possible. When they all first had been introduced to each other Y/N had made sure to look at each individual team member like they were the sun, her attention focused solely on the profiler in question. On every case the team had worked Emily hadn’t once experienced Y/N kindly greet the detectives working on the case, and often gave them her sweet smile that made everyone melt in their spot – often resulting in them giving her ‘Y/N eyes’ the rest of the case.

Her kindness had especially seemed to do a trick on the resident genius of the BAU; a fact abundantly clear for all of the team members except for the two of them. While the remainder of the team never was rude or unkind to him, they never seemed to engage with him the same way she did. There was a willingness to hear him ramble on about the most obscure things, a gleam in both of their eyes when they would talk about their favourite books in hushed voices on the jet when they thought everyone else was asleep.

“How long had the leg been out here before it was found?” Emily asked, breaking the detective out of his gaze locked on Y/N.

“Uh,” he said as he started to fumble with the notepad as Emily and Y/N shared a quick smile as they survived the dumpsters littering the area. “The coroner says about 24 hours.”

“So he dumped it in the evening the previous day,” Y/N said as she glanced around the alley. “How many buildings have access to the alley?”

“Three, these two facing this street,” the detective said as he pointed to the street Emily and Y/N had come from, “and then the other one facing that one,” he said as he pointed down the alley to the street at the other end.

“There’s a good chance that he owns a van,” Y/N said as she moved her sunglasses to the top of her head as they got deeper into the alley where her vision wasn’t obscured by the sunlight. “He could back in, get out, take the limbs out from the back and discard them quickly before being on the move again. It would just look like a guy throwing out trash for anyone passing by at that hour.”

“You’re right,” Emily said as she walked back over to Michaels and Y/N. “He discards them like trash, no signs of remorse of any kind.”

“What does that mean?” Michaels asked as they walked out of the alley and on their way to the next dumpsite.

“That he hates women,” Emily and Y/N said in unison, as they continued their tread down the silent street.

-

“It would be a good idea to have your officers make a door to door on the surrounding buildings of the two dumpsites,” Y/N said as she and detective Michaels walked into the precinct. 

“Why?” He asked while holding the door open for her.

She shot him a small grateful smile as they made their way to the conference room the team had made their office for the coming time. “There’s a chance that some of the residents saw or heard something without knowing its importance, so just have them ask if they remember seeing or hearing anything on the evening of the 15th.”

“Will do agent,” he smiled back at her, and held the door to the conference room open for her as well. 

As they walked into the room, they saw the entire team sitting around it, all with their heads deep buried in their case files, or in Spencer’s case, a map, and a plethora of coffee cups covering the table. 

“What did you get from the dump sites?” JJ asked when she lifted her head to take a generous sip of her coffee. 

At the sound of JJ speaking the entire team turned their heads to see who had joined them in their small room.

Y/N smiled and moved to take a seat in the chair between Rossi and Spencer. “We think he might own a van; the alleys are big enough for a van to back in there and block the view from the street. Emily stayed back to interview a woman that said she remembered a loud noise that evening.”

“That’s good,” Hotch said without lifting his eyes from the case file. “He might work as a carpenter, if he has a van and that his preferred method of dismemberment is with a saw.”

“But wouldn’t that still be a huge number?” Morgan asked as he sat back in his chair while twirling a pen between his fingers. “In a city like Indianapolis the number of carpenters must be quite significant.”

“You’re right,” Rossi mumbled before pulling his phone out, before pressing the familiar buttons.

“The oracle of Quantico at your service sir,” the chipper voice of Penelope blasted through the speakers of the phone, making everyone around the table break out a small smile.

“Garcia, how many carpenters are there in the hunting zone of the unsub?” Rossi asked.

“Uh, quite a bit sir,” Penelope said as she typed her fingers off on her end. “Do you have any other parameters so I can narrow this down?”

“Based on victimology he would be in his late twenties to early thirties, white and would own a dark van.”

“I will do my best sir,” she said as adieu, before she hung up.

The team went back to looking over the case files after Hotch directed Michaels to start door-to-door, silence taking over the room as they all looked over the clues hidden in the papers.

“Guys,” Emily said when she hurried into the room half an hour later, “I talked to a woman who said that she heard a noise the night the unsub dumped Louise’s leg, and she said she saw a dark van just like Y/N theorized, and she said there was a logo on it. So, I called Garcia and she tracked down the carpenter firm to be ‘Better Builders’.”

“Okay,” Hotch said, going up the board before looking over the collected evidence. “Reid, Y/L/N could you go talk to the owner of the firm? Go see if there are any employees that match the profile.”

“Yes sir,” they both said in unison as they started getting up from their chairs. 

Spencer held the door open for Y/N when they walked out of the room, shy smiles exchanged between them as they moved through the precinct. The sun was still shining bright when the two of them exited the station, silence stretching thin between them, leaving them trapped in the space of their own minds.

“Have you gotten something from the geographic profile?” Y/N asked to break the silence between them as Spencer turned on the car and started to drive away from the station.

“Huh?” Spencer asked, seemingly too lost in his own head to having registered that he had been asked a question.

“The geographical profile?” she asked softly, letting her eyes trail over his profile.

“Right,” he exclaimed softly, “and no, not really. Just uh, that he probably lives or works in the area between the two dumpsites, but unfortunately-”

“We won’t be able to be more specific until we have another victim,” Y/N finished for him, letting out a sigh before turning her gaze out of the windshield. 

“Yeah,” Spencer said softly, letting them drive in silence for a while.

Y/N sat with her head leaning against the headrest as she saw the city of Indianapolis pass them by, visions of mutilated women flying through her mind. She thought that after a year of working at the BAU she would have developed a thicker skin, just like the rest of the team. But she was still feeling nauseous every time she saw women being brutally mutilated and felt her heart break and tears press on when a child fell victim to the horrible desires of adults.

“Are you okay?” Spencer asked softly when he noticed how silent she had become on the drive. 

“Yeah,” she mumbled back softly, mind still sifting through the awful images haunting her mind. “Just thinking about what kind of monster could do this to innocent women.”

“That’s the question that keeps us in business,” Spencer joked light-heartedly, trying to get rid of the tension inside of the SUV.

“You’re right,” she joked along, “as always.” She felt the corners of her lips twist upwards when he barked out a laugh. “And I guess,” she continued softly, “I’m just wondering when I will stop being so soft.”

“What do you mean?” he asked genuinely when they stopped at a red light, cars piling behind them.

“It’s just,” she tried to gather her thoughts to the best of her abilities, feeling the pressure of his gaze on the side of her face. “I’ve been with this team for almost a year, and I still feel sick on cases like this. I still sometimes cry in the bathroom,” she laughed, hoping to reduce the melancholy air in the car. “I wonder if I’ll ever develop thicker skin like the rest of you guys.”

Her words hung in the air for a moment too long for her liking, before Spencer cleared his throat.

“Y/N,” he started softly, gently starting to step on the gas again, “you don’t have to develop thicker skin. You don’t have to do anything. Your gentleness and kindness are great virtues, that makes you who you are. Your empathy and love for everyone around you makes you the wonderful person that you are, and I think that they make you such a good profiler,” he explained, never letting his eyes stray away from the road. “I think sometimes the rest of us become immune to the monstrosities that we see, but you, and Penelope,” he interjected quickly, making a burst out a small laugh while her eyes glazed over with tears, “reminds us what it’s like to be human. To just want to make the world beautiful for everyone else.”

She kept her eyes fixed on him as he spoke. His gentle eyes still fixated on the road before them, his hair curling delicately around his ears. His lips had formed a kind smile as he spoke, and his hands were gripping tightly on the steering wheel as he navigated through the foreign city.

“That’s very nice of you Spence,” she whispered softly, “thank you.”

“There’s no shame in being soft,” he continued while he drove around to find a parking spot. “It’s a gentle reminder that you’re human, that we’re all human. And I’m very happy that you are the way you are, and I wouldn’t want you to change yourself for anything.”

He parked the car and the two agents just sat in the car for a moment longer. Each one basking in the softness of the love filled moment, each pair cheeks flushed red and fingers tingling with amorous sparks.

“Can I hug you?” Y/N asked gently, breaking the delicate silence.

“Uh,” Spencer cleared his throat before nodding his head, “yeah, yeah you can.”

She slowly undid her seatbelt before cautiously moving over the centre console and let her arms wrap around his shoulders.

She felt his arms slowly but surely slither their way around her waist, before he let his head fall and rest in the crook of her neck. His hazel curls were tickling her soft cheek, emitting a small giggle from her from the joyous sensation. He started to giggle softly along with her, their laughs dancing together in the vast space of the SUV.

“Thank you for finishing my consultation,” she whispered into the fabric of his cardigan, letting the scratchiness bring her comfort. She felt him scrunch up the fabric of her cardigan, before he nodded against her shoulder.

“Of course,” he mumbled before starting to release her from his grip, “any time.”

“We should go out there,” she said when they had pulled away, dopey smiles painting both of their faces. “And find that monster.”

“Yeah,” he said and opened his side door, “let’s get him.”

-

“It turned out that there weren’t any carpenters working for ‘Better Builders’ that matched the preliminary profile, yet the owner of the firm could confirm that one of their vans had been stolen about two weeks prior to the first murder,” Spencer said as he and Y/N walked into the room where Hotch and Morgan was sitting. 

“Did they report it?” asked Morgan with his hands resting on the back of his head as he leaned back in his chair. 

“Yeah,” Y/N said, as she took a seat on one of the swirly chairs, “I asked Michaels if he could pull up the report to see if there are any leads.”

“Good,” Hotch said before the sound of his ringtone cut the conversation short, “what do you have Garcia.” 

“Sir,” she started, the sound of her clicking on the keyboard clear through the mic, “I found something funky regarding the two victims. So at first I couldn’t find any connection between Louise and Emma, but then I did some sleuthing and I found out that in the days leading up to their deaths day had both gone on a date. Not so weird you probably say, I say it’s weird when the date is with the same person, and from the looks of it they both met him on a dating app.”

Silence took over the room as the four team members processed the information. 

“Can you find out who the prince charming is, baby girl?” Derek asked as he leaned on closer to the phone. 

“Oh, I’m already ten steps ahead of you sugar, and the prince charming is Sheldon Green, but here’s the kicker. It’s not Sheldon Green.” 

The room was once again silent, the puzzle pieces laying spread all around them, refusing to be put together. The silence was broken when an officer came in and handed Spencer the case file on the stolen van. 

“What do you mean Pen,” Y/N asked, confusion clear in her voice. 

“I’ll tell you what I mean sweetums,” Penelope continued, the tapping stopping on her end of the call, “I did my thing and pulled up the profile from Louise’s phone and quickly matched the person on the profile to Mr. Green, but the actual Mr. Green has a very legit alibi for both times because the first time he was at his boyfriend’s parent’s house for family dinner and the second time he was at a work conference two towns over.” 

“So someone has used Green’s identity to lure the victims onto a date?” Y/N asked, still confused.

“It would appear so. I have successfully hacked into the account, and I have tried to track down the phone the creep has used but have come up blank. He is using some weird firewall, incognito thing that I have trouble working my way around it but trust me I’m trying.”

“Okay,” Hotch mumbled, deep lost within his own head. “Can you see if he’s arranged any upcoming dates on the app?”

“I can’t see any based on the messages he has on this app, but sir he could be on a lot, there’s so many dating apps and websites out there, and I have no way of knowing if he uses Sheldon Green as an identity on those as well, or if he uses another one,” she said already back to tapping away. “And by the way, all the women he has matched with look very similar to both Louise and Emma, so he definitely has a type. They were just the unlucky ones,” she said with sadness seeping clearly through the speaker

“Keep taps on the Sheldon Green profile and let us know if he starts to talk to anyone on there.”

“Aye aye captain,” she said before hanging up, leaving the room in silence once more.

“Fucking creep,” Y/N mumbled before standing up and abruptly leaving the room, an uncomfortable chill running down her back. The precinct was buzzing with phone calls and voices trying to talk over each other. Y/N was quick to move in and out through the clutter of desks and officers milling around, before she finally got outside.

The sun had set, in its place the moon was shining bright over head of her, a few stars visible from the bright lights of the big city. There were cars zooming by; fathers desperate to make it home and kiss their babies goodnight, mothers tired from an evening of soccer matches, husbands buzzing with flowers in the front seat and wives crying searching for refuge at their friends’ houses.

All so blissfully unaware of the monsters hiding out in the night. A blessing she didn’t have anymore.

She let her back rest against the cinderblock wall behind her and let her eyes drift shut for just a moment, letting her pretend she wasn’t in the midst of hunting down a monster. Pretending that she was 19 again, somewhere, still like the rest. Still so wonderfully naïve.

“You okay?” a voice pulled her from her silent reveries, and she quickly opened her eyes to see JJ, Rossi and Emily before her, all three of them with concern in their eyes. 

“Oh yeah,” she brushed their concern off with a swift, dismissive wave of her hand. “Just tired.”

“Well,” Rossi started, moving forward to get a good grip on one of her shoulders, “it’s been a long day, hopefully we can all head back to the hotel soon.”

“That would be great,” Emily said as she and Rossi opened the door to the station, leaving Y/N and JJ out in the open air.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” JJ asked, leaning against the wall as well, hands folded together in front of her. 

Y/N let out a deep sigh before letting her eyes fall shut again. “Penelope discovered that he uses a guy’s identity to get them to go on dates with him via dating apps,” she started to explain. “And she has no way of knowing if he uses the same identity on other dating sites, so we basically don’t have any way of getting to him.”

“But we will,” JJ encouraged softly, her hand rubbing up and down Y/N’s shoulder softly, “just like we always do.”

“You’re right,” Y/N smiled gratefully, before quickly taking her phone out of her pocket and checking the time. “If you hurry, I bet you have enough time to call Henry and Will and read a bedtime story.”

They profilers shared a small laugh before JJ took her leave and moved inside, already pulling Will’s number up on her phone.

She let herself close her eyes for the third time, feeling how exhaustion was slowly making its home in all of her limbs.

“I brought you some tea,” a voice said gently, as if careful to not startle her too much. 

She peeked one of her eyes open to see Spencer standing bashfully by her side, a paper cup filled with tea in one hand, and his worn, wool blazer in the other.

“They don’t have strawberry tea, so it’s just earl grey,” he said carefully as he carefully handed it over to her, making sure she didn’t spill any in the transfer.

“Thank you, Spence,” Y/N smiled sweetly, before giving the beverage a gentle blow before taking a sip. 

“And uh,” he continued, looking down at his converse that seemed to try to bury themselves in the cement beneath them, “Emily said it was pretty chilly so I thought you might like a coat, and I know that you’ve said that yours isn’t very practical for chilly nights so I thought you might like mine, but it’s totally fine if you don’t, I just didn’t want you to be cold-“ he said, his mouth running 100 miles a minute, flustered cheeks blazing under the pale moonlight. 

“Spencer,” she said, laying a careful hand on his forearm, “that’s very sweet of you. I would love to borrow your jacket if that’s okay with you.” 

“Of course,” he was quick to exchange the jacket in his hand for the cup in hers so that she could put on the coat. He handed her back the cup silently, letting himself loose himself in the vision of her standing under a combination of streetlight and the gentle glow of the moon, all the while wearing his coat.

“Did you get anything from the police report?” she asked gently before moving to sit on the curb, he knees up to her chest and the cup resting on one of her kneecaps.

Spencer followed, looking apprehensively at the curb before joining her by her side, with his knees in the same position but his arms wrapped around his legs and his hands clapped together in front of his shins.

“There was a witness that had said that they saw a man lurking around the street for about an hour or so in the time frame of when the van was stolen,” he explained looking at her as she took sips of the tea while looking at the passing cars. “They gave a description, so we have turned that over to Garcia.”

“That’s good,” Y/N mumbled before taking another swig of her tea.

“Are you okay?” he asked gently, scooting an inch closer to her on the dirty curb.

“Yeah,” she sighed, her eyes meeting his gentle ones, “this case is just hitting a bit close to home, I guess. No idea why though.”

“We all get those,” he said, letting his eyes rise up to look at the mighty moon.

“Thank you for bringing me a cup of tea Spence,” she mumbled, scooting an inch closer to him on the dirty curb.

“It helps you calm down,” he mumbled, eyes now no longer on the moon but rather at the shrinking space between their bodies.

“It does?” she asked, breath caught in her throat.

“Yeah,” he said, eyes flickering up to her face, “every time you drink tea you become calmer, and generally when you hold a warm cup, no matter the beverage, you pulse slows down.” 

“I didn’t know that,” she said, letting her eyes flicker over his face. 

Spencer just shrugged with a small smile before letting his eyes fly down to briefly take a glimpse at her lips before they went back to her eyes.

“Is that why you always bring me tea?” she inquired, letting her own eyes fly down to his lips, where his tongue is gently poking out.

“Yeah,” he laughed gently, subconsciously leaning into the heat that was radiating off of her.

She leaned into him as well, their noses barely brushing, their soft breaths mixing together, “that’s incredibly thoughtful.”

He swallowed around the lump in his throat before he dared to speak, “it’s what you do for the people you care about.”

They both leaned in closer, their noses now brushing up against one another, lips only a breath away from touching, “it’s what you do for the people you lo-“

His words were caught short from the sound of the door to the station bursting open, resulting in them pulling away from the moment in time they had created together. The team came bustling out, all of them looking mere minutes away from collapsing on the pavement from exhaustion.

“Y/L/N, Reid we’re done for the night, we all need to get some rest,” Hotch said when he noticed the two young agents sitting together on the curb.

“Oh,” they both said, hurrying to stand up and brush away any dirt from their time on the ground.

“I need to go grab my satch-“ Spencer started to say, already moving towards the door, but Derek was quick to lift up the worn satchel that he was carrying in his hand.

“Nope,” he said, turning Reid around and directing him to one of the SUVs as Emily linked her arm through Y/N’s and led her to the other one holding a bit further down.

“Nice coat,” Emily mumbled into Y/N’s ear, laughing quietly when the young agent’s ears started to turn red.

“Shut up,” Y/N said, hiding her smile behind the paper cup of lukewarm tea, as she watched Spencer pile into the black after Derek, a small smile shared between them, only for them to know about. 

-

Her boots were clicking against the floor of the station as she made the first stop of the day at the coffee station. A few officers and detectives were there at the early morning hour, and the team was already setting up in the conference room, bracing themselves for the day to come.

She poured four packs of sugar into a cup, quickly dozing it in the hot coffee stirring it as she started to walk through the room to get to the team.

The weight of a blazer was heavy on her arm and the heat from the coffee cup warmed her entire body in the early morning hour as she discreetly opened the door and moved to take a seat next to Spencer as Hotch was talking.

“We need to go over victimology again,” Hotch started, and the team started to list all of the facts of the two victims.

“Here,” Y/N whispered softly, sliding the paper cup over to Spencer.

He averted his eyes away from where Emily was talking about the unsub having had a relationship with a woman that bore a resemblance to the victims.

“Excuse me?” he asked, his eyes drifting over her still sleepy features.

She nodded down to the paper cup between them, steam flying up and dancing between them. “Don’t worry,” she smiled at him, still keeping her voice low, “I made sure to put loads of sugar in.” 

He smiled softly down at the cup, before looking up at her again with his lips pressed tightly together in a smile. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome,” she smiled back, finally letting the conversation between the rest of the team get her attention.

Unlike Y/N, Spencer’s attention was now nowhere near the conversation about who knows what. All he could focus on was the warmth radiating from the cup between his slender fingers and from the person sitting next to him.

He could still perfectly see her face and her sleepy morning smile as he stared down in the coffee. He could feel a smile pull at the corners of his lips as he went over the sweet interaction multiple times in his head.

An elbow to the ribs from his other side was what brought him out of his daydreams, and he lifted his head to see the entire team staring him down.

“What?” he asked, taking a sip of the steaming brew.

“Have you come further with the geo profile?” Hotch asked from where he stood by the bulletin board.

“No,” Spencer said, sitting up straighter in his chair, “I’m waiting for Garcia to look into the night where the van was stolen.”

Hotch made a sound of approval before he started to give out orders for the team. Y/N and Emily were to go join the officers in the door to door rounds along with the local officers, Morgan and Reid would go and take a look at the crime scenes and visit the morgue to see if they had missed anything and JJ, Rossi and Hotch would stay put and look through the details again.

Spencer caught the eyes of Derek over the table as they all started to move around, a teasing glint in the older agent’s eyes and a mischievous smile on his lips. 

Spencer furrowed his brows in question, which only deepened when Derek nodded to the coffee in Spencer’s hand. Derek simply shook his head and laughed silently to himself as he shared a quick glance with Emily, who was sitting on the other side of Spencer. She also simply just laughed and waited for Y/N to finish the conversation she was in the midst of with JJ.

Derek was quick to walk around the table, grab Spencer around the shoulders and direct him out of the stuffy conference room and out of the station.

“Now,” Derek said as they had made it halfway through the precinct, “is there a reason why Y/N brought you, and only you, a cup of coffee?”

“Uh,” Spencer fumbled over his words as he stopped in the midst of a step at Derek’s words. “What do you mean?” 

Derek simply laughed as he took a stance in front of Spencer, efficiently blocking Spencer’s only escape route. “Now don’t get me wrong, Y/N is a very sweet girl, but in the year that she’s been on the team, she has never brought a coffee for just me, if you know what I’m saying.”

“I don’t.”

“Of course not,” Derek just laughed again, and nodded his head to a thing over Spencer’s shoulder. When Spencer turned his head to look, he was met with the sight of Y/N that was still talking to JJ. “Did anything happen between the two of you last night?” Derek tried to reiterate his question when Spencer turned his eyes back to his friends after a moment off blatantly staring at Y/N.

“No,” Spencer said, brows deeply furrowed.

“Are you sure?” Derek continued, “there was nothing going on between the two of you when we went home last night? When you were sitting on the curb?”

“Oh, that,” Spencer said, a red flush covering his cheeks and ears at the fact that the rest of the team had witnessed the intimate moment that he had thought had been strictly between the two of them. 

“Yeah,” Derek laughed and clapped his hand down on Spencer’s shoulder as he started to guide the younger agent out of the doors.

“She was just feeling a bit out of it, so I brought her some tea,” Spencer started, his mind running faster than his mouth could compete with, “she calms down significantly when she drinks tea, or just generally has a warm beverage in her hands. Actually a study has shown-“ Spencer started to ramble on as they got out of the precinct, the early morning sun shining down on them.

But before he could distract Derek any further, a voice called out behind them, cutting Spencer short.

“Spence!” she called as she hurried out of the double doors, with Emily tailing behind her with a smirk on her face.

“Yeah?” Spencer said and both he and Derek turned towards the other two agents. 

“I uhm,” she started, slightly fumbling over her words, anxiously glancing from Reid to Morgan, who was also standing with a big smirk on his face. “I forgot to give this back to you yesterday.”

She reached her arm out between them, offering him the battered blazer. Spencer looked down at it for a minute before slowly taking it into his hand that wasn’t holding the coffee, images of her wearing it the prior evening flying through his mind. 

“Right,” Spencer said, nodding his head.

“And I just wanted to,” she trailed off, quickly looking at Derek before looking back at Spencer.

Derek seemed to get the hint, because he silently made his adieu and joined Emily, who was standing and waiting by the parked SUVs.

“I wanted to thank you for yesterday,” she said, her voice light and feathery in the spring morning. “You were very sweet, and it made me feel a lot better.” 

“Oh, it was no problem,” Spencer said, the blush returning to his face.

“Still,” she continues, taking a miniscule step towards him, “it meant a lot to me.”

“You’re my friend,” Spencer said softly, letting his eyes glide over her face, letting himself bask in the way the sun made her eyes gleam. “I just want you to be happy.”

“I am,” she was quick to reply, sparing a quick look over to the two older agents that were watching them like hawks.

“I’m glad,” Spencer smiled down at her, tightening his grip on the blazer in his hands. 

The spring wind was ruffling his hair around, making locks fall into his eyes. Before he could let a hand run through his curls, an unfamiliar hand beat him to it. 

Her hand ran gently through his hair, making the curls fall back into the righteous place. She let the hand glide down to the side of his face, holding gently onto his soft cheek. Before he could fully grasp what was happening, she was throwing her arms around his shoulders, giving him a tight squeeze. She pressed a quick kiss to the cheek she had previously been caressing, before she pulled away from his body, his arms still hanging rigidly by his sides.

“Thank you,” she whispered again, before hurrying over to Emily.

Spencer watched her walk away, eyes following her retreating form as she dragged Emily into one of the SUVs, flipping Derek the bird when he called out a comment after her that Spencer didn’t hear because of the ringing in his ears.

“Pretty boy,” Derek called out, a know-it-all look painted all over his face, as he watched the young agent standing baffled in the middle of the sidewalk. “Are you sure nothing happened?”

Spencer could still feel the ghost of her arms around his neck, could still feel the pressure of her body against his and the softness of her lips against his cheek. His ears, that were a colour of red that challenged roses, were ringing, and his eyes were firmly locked in the place she had previously been.

“Reid!” Derek called out again, a loud laugh on the verge of spilling from his lips.

“Huh?” Spencer was finally pulled out from his reveries, making him acutely aware of the fact that Derek and Emily, and potentially many others, had witnessed the small moment between the two of them.

“Nothing happened between the two of you huh?”

“Shut up,” Spencer mumbled as he quickly walked over to the car, hopelessly hoping for a silent car ride, his mind already drifting back to just a moment before.

- 

The room was cold. 

She could feel her colleagues’ eyes on her from behind the one-way mirror behind her as she leaned back in her chair.

Her heels were clicking on the floor as she tapped her foot as she kept a firm gaze on the man in front of her.

Emily was sitting beside her, flipping through a folder as she was repeating the rights to the person in front of the two of them.

“Do you understand?” she finished, and her eyes joined Y/N’s and looked at the man on the other side of the table.

The silence stretched across the room, the only sound being Y/N’s heels and Emily’s ruffling through the file. 

“Do you understand your rights?” Y/N repeated, brows furrowing as she stared down the man. 

He continued to stay silent, his gaze locked on where his hands were cuffed to the table. His dirty-blonde hair was a mess and the glasses on his face were slightly broken from the run-in he had had with Morgan.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Emily sighed and let the folder drop down onto the table surface. 

“So, Elliott, do you know Louise Obsen?” Y/N asked, her hands folding together in her lap. 

He continued to stay silent, eyes never drifting away from their safe spot as the two agents continued to stare him down. 

His baby blue button-down was wrinkled and the more Y/N continued to observe him the more she thought about how un-special he was. Nothing about him was noteworthy and she wouldn’t give him a second glance if he were to pass her in the street.

A murderer hiding in plain sight.

“What about Emma Day?” Emily took over and leaned across the table to get closer to him. She slid two pictures across the table to him; the faces of the two young, beautiful women staring back at him from where he cowered within himself.

“Nothing?” Y/N asked and stood up to get rid of the restlessness that was starting to sink into her bones and started to walk around the room slowly. 

“Never heard of them before,” he finally grumbled but his eyes remained downcast. 

Emily and Y/N’s eyes met from across the room, both pairs of eyebrows lifting in disbelief.

“Oh really?” Emily prodded.

“Yeah,” he said slowly, and Y/N moved to stand behind him and glanced over his shoulder at the two pictures.

“That’s a shame huh,” Y/N said with her arms crossed across her chest, “they’re two very beautiful women.”

“Oh yeah,” Emily agreed as she leaned back in her chair.

“Actually,” Y/N said as if the thought had just hit her, “they kind of look like you Em.”

“Yeah,” Emily laughed a bit, “they kind of do.”

They waited for Elliott to react. From where Y/N was standing she could see the tenseness in his shoulders. His leg was bouncing up and down with a rapid pace and she was sure she could see a small bead of sweat trail down his temple.

Y/N glanced up at the one-way mirror that was behind Emily and could almost feel Spencer’s eyes catching her from the other side.

“But it doesn’t really surprise me,” Y/N continued and moved from her place behind him to lean up against the chair that she had previously been sitting on, “that you don’t know them I mean.”

“What do you mean?” he asked slowly, taking the bait just like she had hoped.

“Oh, you know,” she sighed, lifting her head up to glance at the ceiling quickly before letting them fall back to the man in front of her. “Why would two young, beautiful women know you? You’re just an engineer at a random tech company.”

“You’re right Y/N,” Emily continued and looked up at her colleague.

“Like, would you pay him any mind Emily? If he came up to you in a bar or something?”

“No,” Emily laughed loudly and glanced at the man that was slowly starting to simmer in his own anger. 

“Not even entertain him for the fun of it?” Y/N continued, knowingly rubbing salt in the newly created wound.

“I have standards Y/N,” she played along, her eyes also locked on the man.

“That’s a shame,” Y/N said as she moved to sit down again, “I think you’re his type.” 

From across the table the two agents could see the way he was gritting his teeth together and how his hands were wringing together in anger. 

“I bet you would love nothing more than to take agent Prentiss home,” she continued slowly leaning across the table to get into his personal space. “Lure her with the promise of a good time.”

“And, when I would turn him down,” Emily started to participate and mirrored Y/N’s pose, “he would spend the rest of the night watching from afar.”

Elliott finally lifted his gaze and was met with two agents fake smiling at him from the other side of the table.

“He would wait until you were alone,” Y/N continued, making sure to maintain the eye contact that she’d finally established.

“But he wouldn’t have the guts to confront me,” Emily drawled on, fiddling with the many papers in the file. 

“So he would attack you from behind,” Y/N took over, “like a coward”

“And he would put me in a car,” Emily said as she pulled out a photo of the ‘Better Builders’ van, “one that wouldn’t be able to be connected to him, because despite being a coward, he isn’t stupid.”

“Then he would take you somewhere isolated,” the other agent mumbled, letting her hands run through her hair. “Like a cabin or something.”

“Something like this?” Emily asked and pulled out another photo, this one of an isolated cabin they had been able to connect with Elliott.

“Yeah, exactly,” Y/N laughed and pushed the picture towards him. “Do you recognize this place, Elliott?”

“No,” he grumbled, eyes refusing to look at the pictures in front of him.

“Are you sure?” Emily asked, “because that cabin belonged to your father, and from what we have been able to find, said cabin now belongs to you.”

He just shook his head as Emily talked, eyes burning holes in the table beneath his hands.

“So he would take you somewhere isolated,” Y/N tried to get the conversation back on the prior path, “somewhere no one would hear you scream.”

“And then he would play around, terrorising me for God knows how long,” any kind of playfulness or teasing had left Emily’s voice and a sadness and anger had taken their place.

“And then, to finish it off,” Y/N said, her voice low and sad, “he would shoot you in the back of the head.”

“But he knows a body is too difficult to get rid of and even though the cabin is isolated the body would be found if he were to just dump it,” Emily continued, hard eyes looking at the suspect. 

“So he would have to cut you up,” Y/N mumbled, “and discard the limbs and only hope that they won’t be found.”

Silence stretched across the room again. The two agents staring down the man before them. The man, who was shaking and whose face had become beat red.

“See Elliott,” Emily said, starting to collect the pictures that were laid out on the table before them, “that’s what we think you did to Louise Obsen and Emma Day.”

“And when we get a search warrant for your cabin, which is in the process, we will find something in there that confirms that you did this.” Y/N said moving to lean back in her chair. “A hair, a piece of a nail or a little drop of blood that confirms that you killed two innocent women.”

“And when that happens,” Emily continued, “you will get locked away for a long time. And trust me,” she paused and leaned in closer to him, “you won’t survive long in a federal prison.”

“But,” Y/N drawled out, “if you cooperate we could do something for you.”

He continued to stay quiet, eyes still not looking at them.

“Well,” Emily sighed and moved to stand up, Y/N following suit, “suit yourself.” 

The two agents moved to walk out of the interrogation room, before a voice stopped them. 

“I’ll tell you,” he said slowly, causing them to turn around and look back at him staring at the two of them. “But only you,” he stared at Emily with intent.

Y/N glanced at her co-worker and was met with a confident nod as she moved to take a seat once again. 

Y/N looked back at the pair one final time before leaving the room to watch from behind the glass. 

Once she stepped out into the hallway she was met with Rossi and Spencer shifting their gazes from the interrogation room to her as she closed the door behind her. 

“Good work kiddo,” Rossi said, walking away from the glass and clapping her gently on the shoulder before moving past her, probably to find Hotch and inform him of Elliot being willing to cooperate.

“Thank you, sir,” Y/N mumbled as she watched him walk back into the hectic precinct.

“You did really well,” Spencer said as she moved to stand beside him and watch Elliott talk with Emily.

“Thanks Spence,” Y/N said, looking up at him as he looked down at her at the same time.

They stood there for a while, just listening to the confession that was pouring out of Elliott. From where she stood beside him Y/N could feel the heat radiating from Spencer. His shirt sleeves were rolled up to his elbows and his dark purple tie matched the light purple shirt perfectly.

Y/N shifted her eyes back to the interrogation but could still feel his eyes on the side of her face. As they stood side by side Y/N could feel a soft motion of a finger slowly moving across the back of her hand.

As she glanced down, she saw Spencer’s pinkie moving slowly across the plain of the back of her hand; she could feel the heat slowly spread across her face.

She slowly manoeuvred her hand around so she could rub her finger against his as well, before a loud voice forced their hands apart.

“Y/L/N,” Derek called from behind them, walking across the precinct and the two other agents turned around to see him approach them. “Rossi said that you got him to cooperate.”

“Yeah,” Y/N coughed as she cleared her throat and moved to fold her arms across her chest to try to delete the prior moment from Derek’s mind.

“How’d you do it?” he said as he moved closer to the pair and stood between Y/N and Spencer as he spied into the room with a knowing grin on his face. 

“We just tried to get under his skin,” Y/N explained as she looked back into the interrogation room again and saw Emily scribbling down notes as Elliott spoke. “Showed him how much of a coward he is.”

Derek laughed and laid an arm around her shoulders and gave her arm an affectionate clap.

“Well, at least this one went pretty smoothly.”

Both Spencer and Y/N hummed their agreement, two pairs of cheeks burning from an erased moment in time.

-

“Garcia said that you were hungry,” Spencer said, making Y/N’s attention divert from the case file in front of her to the genius standing with a paper towel in his hand, “so I thought you would like this.”

He gently placed the paper towel on her desk, making sure that it didn’t land on one of the many files that were scattered on the desk. The paper unfolded and inside was a pear, cut up in four pieces, just waiting to be eaten.

All the while she gathered the pieces of fruit and tugged the paper towel closer to her, Spencer was standing, more like hovering over her, a nervous smile tugging at his lips. His hands were tangled together in front of his body, eyes following her every move as she started to munch on the cut-up fruit. 

“Thank you, Spence,” she said, half a piece of pear already in her mouth, “this is just what I needed.”

“You’re very welcome,” he said with a big smile on his face, before he gathered a case file from his desk and bounced up the stairs to Hotch’s office.

“He’s never brought me a pear,” a voice pulled Y/N’s attention away from the now closed door, a smile ever so present on her lips as she slowly chewed on the piece of fruit.

“What?” Y/N asked, confused, turning to see Derek and Emily sitting with shit eating grins on their faces.

“Pretty boy,” Derek elaborated gesturing to Hotch’s office, “in the many years I’ve known him, he has never brought me a sliced-up pear.”

“Me neither,” Emily said as she twirled around in her chair.

“Well,” Y/N started to say, very much confused at where the direction of this conversation was going, “maybe he doesn’t know that you guys like pears.”

“I don’t think that’s why,” Derek laughed, throwing the pen he had been playing with in his hand down on his desk.

“What do you mean?” Y/N asked unconsciously, reaching for another piece hidden in the paper towel.

“What are we discussing?” Penelope broke into the conversation, a happy smile on her pink painted lips. 

“Nothing,” Y/N was quick to say as she turned her chair back to face her desk, in hopes of ending the conversation before it even began.

“Pretty Ricky had heard from you that dear Y/N was hungry, so he cut up a pear for her,” Derek said, and even with her back to them she could practically hear the smiles on all of their faces.

“I haven’t talked to Reid all day,” Penelope said, happiness practically radiating off of her by the news.

“You haven’t?” At this revelation Y/N was quick to turn her chair around, confusion clear on her face.

“No,” she dragged out the word, letting a giggle slip out at the end.

“Then why would he say that?” Y/N asked as she chewed on another piece, her brows furrowed in confusion.

“Because,” Emily dragged out as she got up and moved to sit on Y/N’s desk, “he needs a middleman.”

“A middleman?” Y/N asked, even more confused.

“Someone to make it seem like he wasn’t noticing that you were hungry based on your behaviour,” Derek explained, sliding his chair closer to Y/N’s desk.

“He’s a profiler,” Y/N mumbled to the rest, “if my behaviour was showing that I was hungry, why would he be embarrassed to just give me something to eat. We’re friends.”

“Actually,” Penelope piped up, finally seeing it as her time to make an input into the conversation, “giving snacks to someone is something many consider a love language.”

Y/N choked on the last piece of pear in her throat and turned around to cough down into the paper towel that was still laying on her desk. Emily laughed as she clapped her between the shoulder blades.

“Guys!” she exclaimed once she had gotten everything under control again, “he just gave me a pear. Nothing more, nothing less.”

Emily sighed as she shrugged her shoulders up to her ears as she looked down at the younger, oblivious agent. “I remember a guy saying that once the pear was an allegory for the heart.”

Silence took its place between the four agents. Three of them with giant smiles on their faces as the fourth was simply staring out in space, trying to solve a puzzle that she didn’t even know existed. Her ears were ringing from the realisation, cheeks heating under the scrutiny from the three others as her mind slowly started to fill to the brim of all of her shared moments with Spencer. 

“You think he likes me?” she asked quietly, only daring to let her eyes fall on Penelope, whose face was almost splitting in half from the giant smile on her face. 

“Oh, I think ‘like’,” Penelope said as she brought her hands up and made citation quotes around the word, “is an understatement.”

“He said,” Y/N started, keeping her eyes locked with Penelope’s as she started to fiddle with her hands that were resting in her lap, “He said that he knows what it’s like to love something that’s out of reach.”

The group fell silent as they took in the revelation, the three of them waiting for Y/N to continue. “Do you think he was talking about me?”

“Duh!” Penelope practically yelled, which gained the attention of the agents dutifully working around the quartet. “That boy has been in love with you since you first joined the team. And I may not be a profiler,” she continued making her way over to stand next to the chair Y/N was sitting on, “but I think that his feelings are reciprocated.”

Before Y/N had the chance to say anything, the sound of a door slamming shut brought them all out of the small moment they had created between themselves. As she looked up to the landing, she saw Spencer walking down the stairs again. 

“What’s going on?” he asked curiously, letting his eyes flicker from Derek’s smirk, to Penelope’s sparkling eyes, to Emily’s suppressed grin and finally to Y/N’s wide eyes.

“Oh nothing,” Penelope was quick to say, “just talking about the upcoming weekend.”

“Oh,” Spencer said as he took a seat in his chair, and let the folder he had with him drop to the desk, “do you have any special plans Garcia?”

“Uh,” she sputtered, clearly not ready to talk herself out of her lie, “yes, I’m going to go antique shopping with Emily.”

“We are?” Emily was quick to but in, disdain clear in her voice from the mere thought of going antiquing.

“Yes! Remember we talked about it a while ago,” Penelope mumbled before dramatically gesturing to the watch hanging on the wall, “would you look at that, I have to go back to my office to do,” she dragged out the words, as the four profilers looked at her with amusement on their faces, “to do hacking things. Bye!”

And before they knew she had hurried out of their eyesight, her blonde hair bobbing up and down as she moved as fast as her heels allowed her to.

“Weird,” Spencer said, sharing a quick smile with Y/N before they all went back to their work. Or, three of them went back to their work. 

Y/N spend the rest of her afternoon sifting through every interaction she had ever had with the young doctor, from the moment they had met in this very bullpen, to the first time she had made him laugh over a joke, to the time she had successfully dragged him out to celebrate a successful case with the rest of the team. In the small year they had known each other they had created so many small moments together, so many fond memories that lived in her heart.

And at some point, in the small year, Spencer had managed to worm himself into a part of her heart that she herself didn’t even know existed. Sparks flew out of her finger tips every time they gently touched him. Her heart started to beat faster every time he would smile at her or she would hear his joyous laughter. She started to get lost in the depth of his warm eyes every time they made eye contact, drowning in a sea of honey that she refused to get saved from.

And, unknown to her, she had made herself a home in Spencer’s heart. Her gentle touch seemed to light a fire in him, making him burn to the bone every time her delicate fingers grazed his skin. His smile had become more frequent, and his laughter more boisterous ever since she had joined the team; her mere presence lightening up any gloomy day.

So, there they sat the rest of the sunny afternoon; a boy and a girl so oblivious about the love that flowed so effortlessly between them. She could still taste the lingering taste of the fruit, and she swore her heart fluttered in her chest every time. He could still see the joyful look she had given him when he had handed her the folded-up paper towel, and his heart sang every time it flowed through his mind.

And without either of them noticing, the sunny day ticked by minute for minute. The bullpen had started to empty out for the day, leaving them some of the few agents left.

She could still hear Derek and Emily typing away on their monitors and have occasional chit chat, and out of the corner of her eye she could still see Hotch and Rossi in their respective offices.

As she was finishing up one of her last files, she noticed how Spencer slowly started to pack up for the day.

After a year she had learned his routine for when he would start to head home. Firstly, he would turn off his computer, secondly, he would stack all of his files into a neat pile, ready for when he came in tomorrow, thirdly he would start to pack his bag, double checking he had everything, before finally rising from his chair, putting on his coat and saying goodbye to those who stayed longer than him.

He was in the midst of the fourth step, coat being ready to be put on when they made eye contact over the divider between their desks.

He slowed his actions, taking his time to adjust the lapels on his jacket and picking up his satchel. It was as if everything that had been left unsaid by the two exploded in that moment. All of the gentle touches and the burning fires. All of the loud laughter and the timid smiles. A year worth of love combined into just a five second glance.

“Have a good night,” she said softly, eyes firmly locked with his.

“You too,” he said as he slowly walked by her desk, “see you tomorrow.”

She smiled at him, feeling all of the air leave her lungs when he smiled back.

“I’ll see you tomorrow as well genius,” Morgan called after him loudly, making Spencer walk faster out of the bullpen, and even from where Y/N was sitting, she could see the tips of his ears turn red.

“Y/N,” Emily said firmly when Spencer was out of ear shot. 

“Emily,” Y/N said back, refusing to give the two cocky agents what they wanted from her. 

“Go after that boy,” she said, walking over and hovering over her with her hands on her hips.

“What?” Y/N asked, still looking down at the paperwork in front of her.

“Are you kidding me? I just saw the two of you practically declaring your love for each other with just one look! And for some reason, you refuse to accept the fact that you two are in love with each other,” she said, one of her hands coming down on the younger agent’s shoulder. “Look, okay, I’m no expert at love or anything, but what the two of you have is something special. And I get it, okay. Love is scary, and with our job we see how easily our loved ones can be torn away from us, so I get it more than anyone that it’s scary to succumb to it. But, and this is just my opinion, it would be foolish to let a love like the one the two of you have go to waste.”

After her monologue Emily made her way back over to her own desk, eyes locked with Morgan, desperate to get him to help him. But before he got the chance, Y/N spoke up timidly.

“If I don’t come back will you finish my paperwork?”

“Yes,” both Emily and Derek said without hesitation, smiles spreading wider and wider when they saw the girl hurrying to grab her back and coat before quickly walking out of the office. 

“Fucking finally,” Derek mumbled, letting his eyes follow the young agent out of the double glass doors.

Y/N stood by the elevator, repeatedly pressing the button in hopes of making the machine work any faster. When the doors finally opened, she was greeted by an out of breath Spencer, who looked like he had just run across the parking lot.

“Hi,” he mumbled softly, slowly stepping out of the box as she took a few steps back.

“Hi,” she said, “did you forget something?”

A moment of silence hung between them, both unsure of how to approach the inevitable conversation.

“I-“ he cleared his throat into his fist before continuing, “I don’t know.”

“Oh,” she said, feeling the burning stare of two pairs of eyes on her back.

“I,” he started, his hands hidden in his coat pockets and shoes shuffling around nervously on the floor, but she was quick to interrupt him before he could go on. 

“Emily just reminded me of something,” she said, her voice small but confident. “Someone once told me that the pear was an allegory for the heart.”

At her words Spencer’s eyes widened the slightest, and a pretty blush started to paint over his cheekbones.

“That someone would be correct,” his voice was low but clear, intending to keep the conversation strictly between them.

“And you gave me a pear,” she continued, her hands wringing together in front of her. “And someone would say that means that you, in some way, gave me your heart.” 

They both stared at each other, oblivious to the gathering that was happening in the bullpen behind them. Emily and Derek had now been joined by Penelope and JJ, all eyes set on the two of them, and even from their distance they could feel the tension between the two almost lovers.

“That’s one way to understand it,” he said, taking a miniscule step closer to her.

“Is it the right way?” she asked, mimicking him and tipping a millimetre closer.

“I think,” he started, letting his hands come up from his coat pockets and let them slowly intertwine with hers. “I think that I gave my heart to you a long time ago.” 

“Really?” she moved closer towards him, letting her fingertips spark at the feeling of his gentle touch.

“Yeah,” he nodded, curls falling into his gentle eyes.

“Can I kiss you?” she whispered, squeezing his hands before removing them from his when he nodded his head nervously. 

She let them slide up his arms before they found their place on his jaw, soft skin meeting her cold fingers. His arms found their purpose around her soft waist, giving him the opportunity to pull her in closer. She let her eyes roam his face for a second, before she leaned up and pressed a kiss to his lips. His nose was cold against hers, his lips chapped from the colder weather, but none of it mattered. They stood no comparison to the way his hands were grasping at her waist, or the way she could feel a smile on his lips against hers.

They pulled apart slowly, both of their eyes still closed, both of them just existing in the moment they had created between them.

“I gave you my heart a long time ago too,” she whispered to him, letting her arms wrap around his neck and gave him a tight hug. “But I will be happy to give you a pear as well.” 

He laughed at her comment, before he pulled her into another kiss, letting himself taste the sweet taste of pear that lingered on her lips.

“Pears cannot ripen alone. So we ripened together” - Meridel Le Sueur 

[mydogisveryadorbs]

falling | jj maybank x reader

summary: jj never meant to fall in love with you, it just happened

warnings: cursing, drug use (weed), little angsty, SOFT JJ, fluff, fluff, fluff

a/n: thank you for this amazing request sweet anon! i hope you enjoy it!

masterlist :)

(gif credit to the owner)

6.5k+ words

✰⋆✰⋆✰⋆✰

Rain is something that every Kildare resident has become accustomed to. The rainy summer months were simply a nuisance to everyone who lived in the OBX. 

You couldn't quite understand the contempt the people of this town had for the bad weather. To you, the rain was refreshingly familiar. It reminds you of splashing in the puddles with your older brother and being playfully scolded by your mother for tracking mud into the house. The rain is your childhood.

When you spot the dark clouds on your way out of the house that morning, your mood becomes instantly brighter. You play upbeat music as you walk to visit your dad at work. 

Your father is the manager of Kildare’s finest Resort and Spa so you practically grew up there. Making friends has never come easily for you and so some of your finest childhood memories were made running through the grass fields in the courtyard and being the honorary taste tester for the kitchen staff. 

The rain gives you an extra skip in your step and you rush through helping your dad with some of his paperwork so you can get back outside quicker.

Not every Kildare native has the same mindset that you do. To JJ Maybank, the rain is a reminder of the days he was forced to stay inside with his father. The cracking thunder reminds him of being hidden under his bedsheets in fear, with no one to comfort him.

The blonde’s fingers quickly fumble to punch in the well-known number of his best friend. The phone rings, and rings, and rings, until the crackly sound of John B’s voicemail box fills his ears. He tries Kiara and even Pope, before ultimately giving up.

The one day his bike is in the shop, it rains and none of his friends answer their phones.

Despite every instinct he has, JJ knows he has no choice but to walk home in the rain. His clothes are already sopping wet against his skin even after a brief minute of standing under the downpour.

He shivers, arms wrapping around his body as he prepares himself to make the journey home.

Before JJ can even take one step forward, a bright yellow blob moves towards him, catching his attention. The blob slowly morphs into a figure as it approaches.

“Hello,” a sweet feminine voice calls out to him. JJ’s brows instantly furrow at the sight of the teen girl in the bright yellow raincoat, holding an equally bright, yellow umbrella.

“Um, hi?” he replies over the sound of the rain, his voice coming out in more of a questioning tone.

You quickly move your hand so that your small umbrella is covering both of your heads.

“Thanks,” JJ mutters, still confused. You offer him a sweet smile. He takes the moment to scan your face. You're easily one of the most gorgeous girls he's ever seen and he wonders how he's gone this long without noticing you. 

“You looked like you needed it more than me,” you explain with a shrug, eyes falling away from JJ’s piercing blue ones. “Where are you headed? I didn't drive here but I'm sure my dad wouldn't mind if I borrowed his car to take you home.”

His eyes widened in realization. “Oh, um, your Mr. (Y/L/N)’s daughter right?” You reply with a simple nod. “It's fine, I'll just walk.”

Your lips pull down into a sudden frown and JJ has an intense urge to make you smile again. “It would be much faster for me to drive you,” you urge, “Plus, if you walk home without an umbrella, you'll definitely catch a cold.”

JJ can't help but smile softly at your kindness which you eagerly return with one of your own. “How ‘bout you just let me borrow your umbrella then?” he asks jokingly.

“Well that would work, but this is my favorite umbrella.” This is a lie. You have two other umbrellas just like it at home.

“Well I guess you'll just have to give me a ride home then,” JJ gives in.

Your smile grows as you link your arm with the blondes and pull him to your dad's fancy sports car. JJ gives you directions back to the Chateau and you oblige. 

The two of you make conversation for almost the entire drive, only breaking when you stop to turn up a song you like. JJ is pleasantly surprised when you never mention the length of the drive or the rundown houses you pass.

A few minutes later, You pull up to the chateau, putting the car in park. The car goes quiet besides the sound of rain hitting the rooftop. 

JJ looks over at you with a soft smile. “Thank you, really, for the ride,” he tells you genuinely as he gathers his things.

“Any time, Maybank.”

Over the next two weeks, you start to spend a little more time at the hotel, bumping into JJ anytime the opportunity arises. The blonde is used to eating his lunch on his own in the back room, but when you ask if he'll join you for lunch on the golf course, he can't possibly say no.

“So then my friend John B had to practically drag me out of the water,” JJ says, continuing his story about getting stung by a jellyfish. “I couldn't walk for three straight days.” His words are muffled by the bite of the sandwich he has in his mouth causing you to giggle. JJ smiles at the sound, wanting nothing more than to make you laugh like that again.

“You know I've always wanted to learn how to surf,” you tell him, causing his eyes to widen. “But after your stories, I might not,” you add with a laugh.

“You've never been surfing,” the blonde asks in disbelief to which you respond with a head shake. “How long have you lived here?”

You smile. “All my life.”

“You've lived here all your life and you've never been surfing?” 

“I've been paddleboarding,” you offer with a sheepish smile.

JJ chuckles slightly at your lame joke, but mostly at how adorable you are. “Come surfing with me tomorrow,” he says, softly grabbing your hand in his causing you to blush hard.

“Tomorrow?” 

“Yeah. I have the day off and my friends and I were planning to go anyway.”

Your eyes widen and you gulp slightly. “Your friends are going to be there,” you ask warily.

JJ nods in confusion. “Yeah my friends will be there, unless,” a look of realization sweeps over his face, “Oh. You don't want to go with my friends.” His hand drops yours onto the blanket you brought.

“No,” you tell him earnestly, grabbing his hand back. “It's not that I don't want to go with them, it's that I don't think they will want me there.” JJ looks at you in confusion. “You and your friends are the most looked up to friend group on this island. It's an unspoken thing that everyone wants to be you guys. I just don't think they'll want me butting into your group.”

JJ frowns. Is that really what you think of yourself? The blonde has only known you for a few weeks, but at that time he's decided that you are the kindest, most selfless person on this island. Why you are unable to see that, is beyond him.

It's the first moment in JJ’s life that he has the sudden urge to kiss you. But he can't, he knows that. He knows it won't be the last time he gets this feeling (not with your perfect pouty lips and kind heart around him all the time), but he pushes the thought to the back of his mind for now.

“(Y/N),” he says, drawing your attention back up to his eyes. “Trust me, they'll love you.” What's not to love? But he doesn't say that last part out loud.

JJ doesn't know it, but this moment is also the first time you have the urge to kiss him. The urge to wrap your hands around his neck and pull his lips to meet yours. Your heart rate increases rapidly and you push the thought aside as well.

With promises of meeting the next day, you bid JJ goodbye, the butterflies in your stomach not diminishing until the blonde is out of your sight.

The next afternoon you spend thirty minutes trying on all of your bikinis. You want more than anything to have a good impression on JJ’s friends. 

You are slipping a pale green tank top over your bikini as the doorbell echos through your house. “I'll get it,” you tell out, hoping no one gets to the door first.

Grabbing the rest of your things and shoving them into your tote bag, you quickly run downstairs. When you make it to the door you spot your older brother Sam reaching to open it.

“Sam wait,” you yell, rushing to open the door first. You pull the handle revealing JJ. He's dressed in a pair of grey cargo shorts, a worn black tank top, and his infamous red snapback. “Hey,” you say with a smile.

“Hey.”

“(Y/N), where are you going,” Sam asks from behind you. You turn around to see your brother giving you a look that resembles that of a worried parent.

“I'm going surfing with JJ and his friends,” you tell him quickly. JJ waves at your brother, slightly intimidated by the tall boy.

Sam looks over your shoulder at JJ before snapping his eyes back to you. “Did you tell mom and dad about this?”

You roll your eyes lightly. “I'm not ten, Sam,” you say sarcastically. “I don't have to get permission every time I leave the house.”

Sam’s eyes move back to JJ, only to see that the blue-eyed boy is already looking at you. “Keep her safe, will you?” he asks with a sigh.

JJ looks at your brother. “Of course,” he promises.

You smile, kissing your brother on the cheek. “Love you, Sam.”

He responds with the same and the two of you are quickly moving off your front porch and towards the street.

JJ watches your expression as you approach the pogue van, expecting some sort of disgust of their old vehicle.

He opens the passenger door for you, making you blush hard, before moving to the driver's seat. “Sorry it's not the nicest car,” he says as the van sputters to life, slightly cringing at the sound of the old engine.

“What are you talking about,” you say with an honest smile, “This is literally the coolest car ever.” You stick your hand out the window letting the wind hit it as giggles escape from your mouth.

JJ’s lips stretch into a wide smile at the sight. 

The two of you laugh and sing along to whatever song comes on the radio. It's just like the night you drove him home from the hotel except now, the sun is shining bright above you.

When JJ pulls the van up to the front of the run down Chateau, you feel your palms begin to sweat. “Are you sure this is a good idea?” you ask the boy next to you, not taking your eyes off the front porch.

JJ smiles. “They're gonna love you,” he says confidently, “Now come on before I die of heatstroke.” He hops out of the car, running around to your side and helping you out.

You chew your lips nervously as the two of you walk up the steps and across the front porch. 

“We're here,” JJ announces as he opens the door for you. 

The first thing you notice when you enter the little house is the pungent smell of weed. Despite not smoking yourself, you don't mind the scent. The second thing you notice is the three teenagers sitting on a worn couch.

A girl with curly brown hair throws her hands up into the air. “JJ’s brought a girl home,” she exclaims with a chuckle. 

The blonde beside you rolls his eyes. “Shut up Kie.”

The girl who you assume is Kiara, stands up, and runs over to you. Much to your surprise, she pulls you into a tight hug. You stand there in confusion for a second before hugging her back. “I'm Kiara, but you can call me Kie,” she says, pulling away. “Those two dumbasses are John B and Pope,” Kie tells you, pointing to the two boys still sitting on the couch. They lift their chins in a greeting.

“So are you guys ready,” JJ asks, breaking the tension. 

The boys stand up and the five of you walk outside before piling into the van. John B and Kiara sit in the front and JJ, Pope, and you in the back.

“JB, where's Sarah,” Pope asks. 

“Couldn't make it,” John B replies, “Said she had family stuff.”

“John B, you're dating Sarah Cameron, right?” you ask sweetly.

John B nods. “Yeah, you know her?”

“Not really, we had English together last year,” you say, watching as the brunette boy’s expression remains stoic. “I don't know if she'll like me though. I kind of punched her brother in third grade for making fun of my friend's dress.”

The whole group laughs loudly and you blush hard, not meaning for that to slip out. JJ uses the moment to wrap his arms discreetly across your shoulders.

“I think she'll definitely like you then,” John B says. “That's badass.”

A few minutes later, the van pulls up to a secluded spot on the beach.

“Wow, it's beautiful here,” you say in awe.

JJ nods as he and Kie take the surfboards down from the roof of the van. “This is our secret pogue spot.”

“Oh,” you say looking down, feeling out of place.

Pope hands you one of the boards. “You're basically an honorary pogue if we bring you here,” he says with a kind smile. “Think of this as your initiation.”

You smile back, relieved that JJ’s friends aren't annoyed by your presence. JJ tries to hide a smile of his own, loving that you are getting along with his friends considering they're the only family he has.

The five of you walk down to the beach, finding a good spot to lay down your stuff. 

JJ can't take his eyes off of you as you slip your tank top over your head. His little heart can't handle how gorgeous you are. You're wearing a small blue and white floral bikini, leaving little to the imagination.

“You okay, Maybank?” you ask, snapping him out of his trance. He nods dumbly, making you chuckle. “C’mon,” you say, grabbing your board in one hand and holding the other out to the blonde.

This sets him into motion and he quickly grabs his own board and links his fingers with yours. He has to remind himself to take in this moment, wanting to remember the first time you ever held his hand. 

“So how do I do this,” you ask once you have paddled out into the water. 

JJ nods. “Normally I would have you do some exercises on land first, but I say you just go for it,” he says, floating on the board next to you.

“Great plan, Maybank,” you say with a slight eye roll. “If I die it's on you.”

JJ laughs. “You're not gonna die, (Y/N),” he tells you. “The waves are small today anyways.”

He explains the basics of how and where to stand before demonstrating on a wave. You admire how his tan body moves gracefully on the board. He makes it look so easy and you smile at the look of concentration he has.

JJ ladles back out to where you are when he is done. “Maybank,” you exclaim. “That was amazing.”

JJ smiles wide. “Now it's your turn.”

You grimace. “It's not gonna look like that.”

“Don't worry, that took years of practice,” he encourages before pointing behind you. “Look, there's a perfect wave coming.”

You look at the wave, gulping in anticipation. “Wish me luck.”

“You got this,” he yells making you laugh. Your heart pounds in your chest as you line yourself up the way JJ had. When the wave comes toward you, you attempt to put your foot where JJ told you. Instead, you miss and fall into the water before you even have the chance to stand.

JJ’s heart drops the moment your head disappears under the water. The waves weren't too big and the current shouldn't be strong at this time of day, but he couldn't help the sick feeling he got watching you fall.

The moment your head pops up out of the water he breathes a sigh of relief. The sound of your laughter is enough to calm his anxieties.

You slide back on your board, paddling back over to JJ. “Well that was embarrassing,” you say with a giggle.

JJ smiles with a small shake of his head. “No one gets it on their first try,” he reassures her. “If you stood up just now I would have sent you straight to a surfing competition.”

A few more tries (and fails) later you notice the sun starting to set over the horizon. 

“You ready to go back in,” JJ asks from his board next to you.

You shake your head. “I want to give it one more go,” you tell him. “But you go in and watch from the beach.”

The blonde frowns. “Are you sure?” 

“I'll be fine, Maybank,” you say with a small smile. “Plus, then you can watch me better when I shred some waves,” you add in a mock surfer voice. 

JJ gives you a slight eye roll before making his way to shore. He meets up with the rest of the pogues who are coming back from up the beach where they had found some bigger waves.

“Getting bored of teaching the newbie,” John B asks when he sees JJ.

JJ gently shoves the boy. “No,” the blonde replies plainly. “She just wanted to give it one last try before we head in.”

The four of them watch from the sand as you make your way towards an upcoming wave.

“I bet you five bucks she doesn't even stand,” John B whispers to Pope.

“Hey,” JJ snaps, turning to look at his two friends. “What are you two idiots doing.”

“Definitely not betting on your girlfriend,” Pope says, sarcasm laced in his voice.

JJ blushes at the word 'girlfriend’. “She's not my girlfriend.”

Even Kie rolls her eyes at this. “Yeah, okay.”

They go silent as you get closer to the wave, watching as you paddle along it. In one graceful motion, you position your feet, straightening your legs until you are standing.

The four pogues cheer as you ride the wave. It's definitely not perfect, but JJ couldn't be more proud. 

You ride the wave in, throwing your board on the sand as you run-up to the group. “I did it guys,” you exclaim happily.

Running up to JJ, you wrap your arms around his shoulders, practically jumping into his arms. He catches you easily, spinning you around in excitement.

The blonde puts you down after a minute, reluctant to let go of you. You look up into his eyes, feeling the tension grow.

“You did awesome, girly,” Kie says, drawing your attention away from JJ.

He smiles as he watches you interact with his friends. At that exact moment, his heart feels so full, but he can't explain it.

After everyone is done congratulating you, the six of you gather your things before piling into the van. You tell jokes and chat on the way back to your house.

You give JJ a soft kiss on the cheek before bidding everyone else goodbye. Despite rolling his eyes when his three best friends make fun of him for it, having your lips on his cheek is the last thing he thinks about before drifting off to sleep that night.

Yes, he's definitely falling for you.

Over the next few weeks, you grew closer and closer with the pogues. A few days after your surfing adventure you met Sarah Cameron for the first time, and after that, you were basically a pogue yourself.

When you invited JJ over for dinner at your house, the blonde assumed your parents would hate him like every other kook family. However, your parents and brother treated him with nothing but kindness and respect (how could they not after all the stories you have told them). 

Looking back, that was the night you knew you were in love with JJ. Watching him laugh and have meaningful conversations with your family made you fall even harder for him.

Tonight, almost five months after you first met JJ on that rainy night, you are lounging on the floor of John B’s living room cracking jokes with your friends.

You told your parents you were spending the night at Kiara’s, knowing that they would ask fewer questions.

“Kie, pass me the blunt, would you,” John B asks from his spot next to Sarah. 

You are sitting next to JJ, your legs stretched across his and your back pressed against the couch. Your eyes watch as John B places the blunt to his lips, inhaling the vapor.

The brunette lifts an eyebrow. “You wanna hit, (Y/N),” John B asks, holding the blunt out with two fingers.

Before you can even open your mouth, the blonde beside you speaks up. “She doesn't smoke JB,” he says annoyed at his best friend for even asking.

You look at him confidently. “Actually, I think I'd like to try,” you say, causing everyone to look at you in shock. 

“You sure?” JJ asks softly from next to you. You nod and John B passes you the blunt.  

Placing it in between your lips, you inhale like you had seen John B do earlier. Only, when you do it, it sends you into a coughing fit.  

JJ rubs your back with a slight eye roll. “Atta girl,” he says with a small chuckle.

It doesn't take long for you to be high out of your mind. You're a lightweight when it comes to alcohol and you probably should have guessed you would be a lightweight when it came to weed too.

At some point in the night, you find yourself sprawled out on one of the hammocks outside in a large, ratty t-shirt you assume belongs to JJ. The stars spin above you and you giggle. 

“(Y/N)?” you hear the voice of the boy you're madly in love with, approach.

“Maybank,” you cheer when he finds you on the hammock. He gestured for you to move over and once you do so he plops down next to you.

You're instantly pulled into JJ’s toned chest and you let your head rest easily on his shoulder.

“Is everyone else asleep?” you attempt to whisper, but it comes out louder than you had anticipated. 

JJ’s hands find your hair and begin to play with it lightly. “Mhm.”

“So it's just me and you?” you ask sweetly, words slightly slurred from the weed in your system. 

He hopes you can't hear how fast his heart is beating from having you this close. “Just you and me.”

“JJ can I ask you a question,” you mumble, the weed making you only slightly more confident.

“F’course,” JJ tells you.

You use your fingers to trace lazy patterns on his bare chest. “How come you never call me any nicknames,” you ask with a pout. “Like I call you ‘Maybank’, y’know and you have a nickname for every one of our friends except me.”

JJ doesn't answer right away and even your wasted mind thinks that maybe it wasn't such a good idea to ask. 

“Because I like your name,” he finally says after a while.

A small “oh” is all you can muster, so the blonde boy continues. “I like saying your name. It's really pretty and I like the way it sounds,” he tries to explain, slightly cringing at his words.

“I like you,” you blurt, but it comes out in a slow drawl.

“What,” JJ asks quickly, eyes widening in shock. When you don't reply, he looks down at you only to find you fast asleep on his chest.

His brain is going a mile a minute trying to comprehend what you said. You must've meant it in a friendly way because there's no way someone like you would like a guy like him. Right?

The blonde lays there for hours, unable to sleep with your words on his mind (and your head over his heart). Finally, he coaxes himself to sleep with the thought that you were high out of your mind and didn't mean anything you said.

The next morning you wake up alone in the bed of John B’s guest room. You have no idea how you got there and have little recollection of the previous night.

You stumble out of the small room with a headache and feeling slightly nauseous.

“Morning, sleepyhead,” Sarah says with a smile when you appear in the kitchen. 

You look around the room, noticing that you were the last one awake. “What happened last night,” you groan, plopping down in the seat between Kiara and JJ

“Well,” Pope says with a smirk. “You had your first official experience with weed.”

You groan again, laying your head in your arms which are folded on the table. You feel a familiar hand rest on your back and you turn your head to look at JJ. He smiles at you and a sea of butterflies erupt in your stomach.

“Well, I should probably get home,” you say, sitting up. JJ pouts at your words and you giggle, leaning over to give him a small kiss on the cheek which unbeknownst to you, makes his stomach fill with butterflies too. 

You bid goodbye to the rest of your friends, before stumbling out of the chateau and to your car. 

JJ’s eyes follow your body until it is completely out of sight. When he finally sees your car pulling out of the driveway, he looks back to his friends only to find all of them staring at him. “What?”

“Just tell her you love her already,” Kiara says with a dramatic groan causing JJ’s eyes to widen. 

John B nods. “Seriously, dude,” he says, “You gotta do it before she gets tired of waiting.”

“What are you guys talking about,” JJ asks innocently despite knowing exactly what his friends are talking about.

“The two of you are madly in love with each other so what are you doing wasting this time you could be spending together,” Sarah reasons.

JJ knows his friends are right, but he doesn't need them breathing down his neck when he does decide to tell you.

You, on the other hand, realized a few seconds into your drive that you forgot your phone. You had turned around and were now making your way back up the porch steps.

“I do not like (Y/N),” lies through his teeth, having no idea that you could hear him clearly through the mesh screen door. “She's just a spoiled, kook, brat that I happened to take pity on. She means nothing to me.”

Each word that passes from JJ’s lips is like a knife to your heart. Completely forgetting your phone, you don't waste any time running back to your car. Hot tears stream down your face at a steady rate as you attempt to get as far away as possible from the boy who broke your heart. 

“Okay keep telling yourself that,” John B says to JJ with a small smirk on his lips.

JJ rolls his eyes, but on the inside, he is longing for your sweet lips to press to his cheek again. The dense blonde has no idea that the girl he loves with his whole heart, is currently broken because of him.

Over the next few days, you make every excuse in the book not to see the pogues, knowing that even being in the same room as JJ would be too much. 

When Kiara brings by your phone from the Chateau, you immediately break down and tell her what you witnessed. The curly-haired girl wants to tell you the whole truth, but she figures it should come from the idiotic blonde himself.

After three days of not hearing from you, JJ’s worry starts to eat him alive. What if you were sick? Or sad? Or what if you finally realized you were too good for him?

Despite the drizzling rain, JJ takes his bike and makes his way to your house as quickly as he can.

When he knocks on your large oak door and your brother opens it, JJ is immediately brought back to the first day he came to your house. He remembers the pride he felt when you first stood up on that board. 

“Hey, Sam. Is (Y/N) here?” he asks, peaking around your brother's shoulder as if you would be standing there like you were that one day.

“No,” Sam says harshly, immediately slamming the door shut in JJ’s face. 

The blonde is left there in confusion wondering what is wrong. He knocks on the door again, louder this time. 

Sam opens the door again. “What?” he snaps.

“I know she's here,” JJ explains seriously. “I can see her bedroom light from her window and she never leaves her light on.”

Your brother scowls at JJ’s words as if it's an abomination that he knows such an intimate fact about you.

“Leave, JJ,” Sam says, slightly calmer now. “She doesn't want to see you.” He shuts the door again, causing JJ’s heart to break slightly.

What does he mean you don't want to see him?

The blonde steps away from your front door and moves under your bedroom window. The rain is falling much harder now, causing JJ’s curls to plaster to his forehead.

He glances up at your window, suddenly having an idea. It takes him a few tries, but JJ is able to scale your house and make it to your small balcony.

He peers into your room, spotting you laying on your bed, with your back facing him. JJ knocks lightly on your window and you snap your head in his direction. 

Your eyes widen when you see his sopping wet form and for a second you forget why you're laying alone in the first place. You rush to the window, undoing the hinges and pulling JJ inside.

Once the blonde is standing in front of you, his words from the other night come rushing back.

“What are you doing here, JJ,” you ask with a small sigh, wrapping your hoodie-clad arms around your stomach.

The blonde frowns. “You called me JJ.”

“That's your name isn't it?” 

“Yeah, but yo-you never,” JJ stumbles over his words. “Are you okay? Why haven't you been answering my texts or calls?”

“I was busy,” you say with a shrug, sitting back onto your bed.

“You know you can talk to me, right,” JJ asks as he takes a small step closer to you. “I'll always be here for you.”

You roll your eyes. “Yeah, okay,” you mumble sarcastically. 

JJ flinches back. “What's going on (Y/N)? You're not being yourself. You are always there for me and my problems, so you should know that I'll always be here for you and whatever it is you're going through,” he tells you honestly.

“Oh yeah because you took pity on me, right?” you snap, looking him dead in the eyes as a few tears fall down your cheeks. A look of confusion spreads across his features. “Because I'm a ‘spoiled, kook, brat’ right?”

JJ's heart drops to the pit of his stomach as he realizes what you are talking about. His eyes well with tears knowing why you've been hurting the past few days.

“(Y/N),” he all but whimpers. His hands reach out for you but you pull back.“Please, let me explain.”

You harshly wipe the tears from your cheeks. “I think you made yourself very clear the other day. Leave, JJ,” you tell him.

JJ shakes his head as panic builds in his chest. He struggles to breathe as he realizes that he is about to lose you before he even truly has you.

His breathing becomes more and more erratic and he squeezes his eyes shut. 

“JJ,” you ask softly, noticing the arising panic attack. The blonde looks up at you, fear evident in his eyes. Despite the pain, he put you through, you still love him and can't stand to see him in pain. “C'mere JJ,” you say softly, pulling him to sit on your bed. You crouch down below him, shushing him softly.

“You gotta breathe with me,” you tell him, making sure he's watching as you take a few big breaths in. He is able to take a few shaky breaths and soon his heart rate has slowed to a somewhat normal rate, JJ collapses into your arms. “You're okay. It's gonna be okay.”

JJ frowns, pulling away from you slightly. “Why are you being so nice to me,” he asks shakily. “After everything I've done?”

You shrug, looking down.

He uses two of his fingers to gently lift your chin so you are looking at him. “Please let me explain,” he whispers and you nod slightly. “After you left that day, the pogues were messing with me, saying that I was so in love with you n ’shit, so I had to say something that would get them to shut up,” he says quickly, wanting to get through his story so you will stop hurting. 

“Nothing I said that day was remotely close to the truth. You are the most kind-hearted person on this island, and for me to even say that you aren't, it's just, I'm so sorry,” he says. “I never meant to hurt you, but I couldn't have the pogues thinking I was in love with you.”

Your heart falls at his words. “Because that would be embarrassing, right?” you say, trying to hide the dejection you are feeling.

“No.” You look up at him in confusion. “Because I didn't want you to find out before I got the courage to tell you myself.”

“What?” 

“I'm in love with you (Y/N),” he says with a small smile on his face. “I have completely fallen for you. Everything you do, everything you say, everything you are. You’re my first thought in the morning, you’re my last thought before I fall asleep, and you're almost every thought in between.”

The room goes silent and the only sound that can be heard is the rain softly hitting your window. 

“Now is where you say something,” he says with an awkward chuckle.

You open your mouth to speak, but everything you want to say to the boy in front of you is stuck in your throat. “I-” you manage to sutter out.

JJ sighs. “It’s okay,” he says standing up, leaving you to fall limply against your bed. “I figured this would happen. You don’t have to say anything.”

When he moves towards your window, your body seems to catch up with your brain and you run to stop him. JJ turns around, but before he can get a word out, you press your lips to his. 

You swear you see sparks fly behind your eyes the moment your lips meet his. The kiss starts softly at first and then builds with an intensity that has you gripping his shoulders for balance. This kicks the blonde into motion. He places one hand softly on your cheek and uses the other to tug your waist closer to him. 

The intoxicating taste of weed and mint lulls you closer as your lips move together perfectly. Neither of you ever want to stop. Moving your right hand to lace your fingers in his hair, you tug slightly, causing him to let out a small groan. You smile into the kiss before reluctantly pulling yourself away.

“That was…” JJ trails off breathlessly. 

“Yeah,” you agree with a chuckle. “Look, when I first met you, I never would have imagined that I would have such strong feelings for you. I never would have thought that I would miss being by your side, or get butterflies in my stomach when someone mentions your name. When I first met you, I never would’ve thought that I would love you the way I do.”

Tears brim JJ’s eyes as your words fill his heart. “So, you…”

“I love you, Maybank,” you say, not looking away from his eyes.

“Say it again,” he asks in a small voice, eyes wide like he can’t believe the words you are actually saying.

You smile wide. “I love you, so much.”

JJ pulls your body tight to his chest and buries his head into the crook of your neck. “I love you more than anything,” he mumbles into your neck. “I’m sorry it took me so long to say.”

You chuckle, lifting his head off your shoulder and cupping his cheeks with your hands. You place a few soft kisses to his pouty lips causing him to smile wide. “I forgive you, but only because you're cute,” you tell him.

He blushes slightly, leaning down to kiss both of your cheeks and then your lips. Both of you have big smiles on your face when you pull away. “How have I gone this long without kissing you,” JJ says causing you to giggle. He uses the pads of his thumbs to trace your cheekbones. “You’re so beautiful,” the blonde whispers, voice laced with sincerity. 

You blush hard and nuzzle your face into his chest. After a second you look back up at him. “Stay the night?” you ask.

JJ nods. “Of course, my love.”

Smiling at the name you pull him towards your closet. “I thought you didn't give me nicknames,” you tease and he shrugs his shoulders. 

“That was before,” he says with a smile. 

You hum in response, handing him some of his clothes that either he had left at your house or you had stolen from the Chateau. Once he is changed out of his wet clothes, the two of you climb into your bed. 

JJ instantly pulls you snug to his chest and you get comfortable and he presses a soft kiss to the crown of your head. 

Both of you know that everything will change after today. Everything is different now, but for some reason, it feels normal to the two of you. It feels like this was how it was meant to be. Just you and JJ, together.

“I love you, (Y/N).”

“I love you too, Maybank.”

✰⋆✰⋆✰⋆✰

masterlist

[boldlyvoid]

Amoreena | chapter one

summary: Heaven is a real place and it's located exactly 14.6 miles away from the FBI, Quantico Headquarters. Off behind a small park, under a fantastical willow tree surrounded by wildflowers, in every colour young minds can imagine.

Don't forget, heaven also comes with angels.

Warnings: fluff, hurt/comfort, depressed spencer, reader has a daughter, falling in love, strangers to lovers

word count: 3,147

Read on Ao3

There’s this small, tiny part, of Spencer that wants to run away.

He’s always felt like he’s never truly been home, a never-ending and long yearning, a homesickness for a place he didn't even know, eating him alive day by day. It made him want to drop everything and buy a cottage in the woods, to fill it with books and coffee and never see another person again.

It got worse after prison and after his mom asked to go back into a care facility, it hurt the most when Penelope left the FBI and things with Max fizzled out. Then he was really, truly alone again. His apartment felt cold and uninviting, the BAU felt like a chore, using his brain for anything other than taking care of himself was extremely hard.

He needed a break.

So when he walked out of work and straight to his favourite park for an escape, he wasn’t surprised that he didn’t stop walking. Going further and further down the trail, following the dirt path towards a pond, covered by a beautiful willow tree and surrounded by pink, purple, yellow and white flowers. The contrast of the green grass with the colourful flowers, the blue sky and the light green willow tree reflection dancing on the surface of the pond. It was like he walked into Eden, taking a seat by the tree and picking a book from his satchel.

For the rest of the week, it’s his own little sanctuary, escaping desk work and home cases as fast as he could. Even then it wasn't enough and he started going every afternoon, he’d sneak out for an hour and just relax. Reading his book, feeling the breeze on his face, the sound of ducks and frogs competing with the crickets for loudest being in the area. Eventually bringing his bike on the subway to work so he could get there faster.

It was beautiful.

Almost as beautiful as what he walked in on when he arrived Saturday afternoon. Parking his bike by the tree, looking at them carefully as he took his satchel off his shoulders and placed it by the trunk. Craning his neck so he could look at who it was, seeing the purest display of human affection known to man.

A mother and her daughter were having a picnic, dressed up like Miss Honey and Matilda as they had lemonade and snacks, spread out on a blanket as the mother handed her a sandwich wrapped in checkered red wax paper.

Spencer was in awe, sitting on the other side of the pond by a second tree, pretending to read when really he was glancing at them. Their laugher filling the field, bouncing around the trees and filling his chest with warmth.

It reminded him of all the afternoons with his own mother. His head in her lap, the sound of her voice as she shared worlds wisdom with him. He missed childhood, freedom, hope. The will to continue…

When the little girl finally notices that they’re not alone in this little world she’s creating, he sees her tug on her moms shirt, asking her a question before cheering. She picks something out of the basket and comes running towards Spencer.

“Excuse me, sir?” Her sweet little voice asks. “Are you an archeologist or a palaeontologist?”

It makes him laugh slightly, a large smile erupting on his face as he pushes his glasses up and puts the book down. “No sorry, I’m not, what made you think I was?”

“You have a satchel and glasses like Milo from Atlantis, but you have a dinosaur on your tie, you look like you work at a museum,” she rambled all her thoughts out, much like he did as a child.

“I’m actually an FBI agent,” he whispered.

“Wow,” she whispered back in amazement, “are you like a knight? Do you save princesses?”

“I do," he nodded enthusiastically, "do you know any in need?”

“Her,” she pointed. “I’m Lady Amoreena, the Princess over there says I was a gift to the kingdom but that she’ll never need a prince or king to take care of us, but I think a knight would work!”

He laughed lightly, seeing her mom shake her head as she overheard it, covering her face with her hand, she looked embarrassed.

“It’s nice to meet you, Lady Amoreena,” he put his hand out to shake her’s as soft as possible, noticing the cookie in her hand. “My name is Dr. Spencer Reid,” he added softly.

“Would you like a cookie?”

He smiled as she placed it in his hand, “thank you.”

“Do you like Matilda?”

“It’s one of my favourite books,” he smiles.

“Do you want to have some lemonade and read with us?” Her face lit up, turning back to where her mother was watching from the pond.

“It’s okay, thank you for offering,” not wanting to intrude on their moment.

“We need a voice for Matilda’s father, please?” She begged, overly sweet and incredibly convincing.

“Alright, but I’m warning you if I upstage the princess with my awesome voices, it’s not my fault,” he smiled as he stood up, grabbing his things and starting to follow her over to the blanket.

She took his hand and tugged him along the edge of the pond, dragging him right to were her mother was sitting on the ground.

“I’m sorry,” she apologized softly as he sat down. “She’s very persistent about making new friends. We don’t see many people on this side of the park.”

“It’s fine, honestly, I’m Dr. Spencer Reid, by the way,” he introduced himself. “I work with the FBI, normally I’d advice women and their children to avoid strange men they don’t know when they’re alone in the woods like this.”

She laughed slightly, “Y/N Y/L/N, I’m the head librarian at the DC library, and you don’t seem that strange.”

“Neither did Bundy,” he tried to joke, knowing she got it and trusted him when she bit back a smile, eyes twinkling at him in the sunlight.

“My name is Amoreena, like the Elton John song,” her daughter cut in, noticing how they were staring at each other and trying to get the attention instead.

“It’s a beautiful song, no wonder you love it here,” Spencer smiled at her, “do you come here often?”

She nodded, a blush flowing through her freckled cheeks, “have you ever read Tuck Everlasting? The pond here can make you young forever,” her whisper was the cutest thing. She was so full of life, personality and joy.

“I have, you’re right this feels a lot like the field from the book, what other books do you like?”

“I love books,” she lays back against the blanket ever so dramatically. “Matilda, Anne of Green Gables, Beauty and the Beast, I love every story that ends with true love and happiness, and cats.”

He couldn’t help but laugh at her explanation, knowing that feeling all too well. “I have read almost every book ever, more than the entire DC library probably."

“We dress up every week for what ever book we are reading, next week is Peter Pan if you’d like to join us? We’re here every Saturday at 11,” Y/N offered.

“You haven’t even heard me read Matilda from memory and you’re already asking me to come back?” Spencer smirked as their faces lit up.

“No way, prove it!” Amoreena shouted, shoving him lightly to encourage him to start.

“The Reader of Books,” he began, seeing the pages in his mind as he repeated the words. “It's a funny thing about mothers and fathers. Even when their own child is the most disgusting little blister you could ever imagine, they still think that he or she is wonderful.”

“Okay so you know the beginning,” Y/N teased, opening the book to a random page, “what's on page 32?”

"My name is Jennifer Honey," Miss Honey said. "How do you do, Mrs. Wormwood." Mrs. Wormwood glared at her and said, "What's the trouble then?" Nobody invited Miss Honey to sit down so she chose a chair and sat down anyway. "This", she said, "was your daughter's first day at school." "We know that," Mrs Wormwood said, ratty about missing her programme. "Is that all you came to tell us?" Miss Honey stared hard into the other woman's wet grey eyes, and she allowed the silence to hang in the air until Mrs. Wormwood became uncomfortable. "Do you wish me to explain why I came?" she said.

Amoreena thought it was the coolest thing ever, reading the page and jumping up and down when he was correct, “how did you do that?”

“I can remember every word I’ve ever read, I have a pretty interesting brain,” he explained it as overdramatic as he could, knowing she would find it magical.

“You’re so cool!” She swooned, dropping back against the blanket just as dramatically.

Y/N was all smiles, running her fingers through Amoreena’s hair and giggling slightly at the sight of her silly child. “Spencer, would you like to do the honours today?”

She handed him the book, knowing he didn’t need it. He gently opened it, starting on the first page and starting to read it the way his mother would. Bringing out voices, hand gestures, all the bells and whistles.

They were in the field together until the sun started to set, casting a purple and orange glow over the pond. Amoreena was resting in Y/N’s arms, legs extended over Spencer’s lap as they sat close. It was the most perfect Saturday he has had in a long time. Probably the best day of his life, actually.

“Matilda leapt into Miss Honey's arms and hugged her, and Miss Honey hugged her back, and then the mother and father and brother were inside the car and the car was pulling away with the tyres screaming. The brother gave a wave through the rear window, but the other two didn't even look back. Miss Honey was still hugging the tiny girl in her arms and neither of them said a word as they stood there watching the big black car tearing round the corner at the end of the road and disappearing for ever into the distance. The end.”

He closed the book softly, setting it down on the blanket and looking at them softly, “am I still invited next week?”

“Absolutely,” Y/N smiled, “I’m dressing as Tinker Bell, Amoreena will be Peter Pan, and you can be anyone else of your choosing.”

“I’ll keep it a surprise until next week,” Spencer smiled right back.

Amoreena crawled out of Y/N’s lap and leapt into Spencer’s arms, hugging him tightly in her small arms. “That was the best story ever, thank you!”

Everything in the world felt right then, hugging her back while he smiled at her mother. Y/N had a hand over her heart as she swooned, watching her daughter bond with the man who just happened to wander into their picnic.

“Can I get your number?” Y/N asked softly, “you know, so we can arrange outfits and stories as the week's pass.” She shrugged, licking her lips slightly as she blushed.

“Of course, I’m not on duty for the rest of the month, so if you wanted to go to a museum or anything, I’m free? Since I look so much like I should work there,” he teased Amoreena.

“I’m sure lovey would like that?” Y/N leaned over Amoreena’s shoulder, holding her around her waist and tickling her softly.

Lovey

It was a nickname that made perfect sense in his mind. Amoreena, the keyword being Amore, to love. She was very loveable, incredibly vibrant and full of innocence, a life that was full of possibilities, wonderful like her mother.

“We’re going to the Smithsonian tomorrow to see the Dino’s,” Amoreena’s face lit up. “Do you know anything about them?”

“Surprisingly enough, while I’m not a paleontologist, I know a lot about dinosaurs, and I might have some connections there to see the rare ones,” he exaggerated his voice again, watching her get so excited she started to run around with her arms in the air.

“You don’t have to if you’re busy,” she says softly when Amoreena is far enough away, picking flowers as she ran around.

“I’d love to, actually, thank you,” he whispers towards Y/N. “I haven’t been having the greatest week.”

“Is it okay for me to ask what you do?” She asked, just as softly as Amoreena kept running around the field.

“I’m a profiler, I consult on intense cases.”

“The strange man comment makes more sense now,” she smiled. “we’re looking for a literary historian at the library right now, I’m sure remembering every word in every book would get you hired, you know if you wanted to switch careers for something easier on your soul?”

“I have been thinking of leaving, in all honesty, I’ve actually been having more of a rough 15 years,” he tries to laugh but he just feels frustrated. “It’s been really hard.”

“For everything you see, you’re still a very sweet man, not many people would sit down and occupy his time with an autistic 7-year-old,” she complimented him with a smile, sharing something personal in a way that would fit right into the conversation and not make a big deal. “We really did enjoy your company today.”

He handed her a business card from his pocket, feeling a bit overwhelmed and emotional as he handed it to her, “I've had a wonderful time. I'm also autistic, I know what it's like to want to share the world while no one wants to listen, thank you for letting me join you. Let me know what time you’re going to the museum tomorrow and I will be there.”

Y/N’s face lit up once more, reading the card over before sliding it into her bag. “Do you want a PB&J or a ham and cheese sandwich for lunch tomorrow?”

“PB&J is a great museum lunch,” he bit his lip so he’d stop smiling, it was beginning to feel embarrassing with how much he liked her already. Not used to random kindness from smart and beautiful women.

Amoreena came running back then, handing Spencer a handful of flowers upon her arrival. “For you, Sir Knight,” she bowed as he took them.

“I bid you a good day, my fair ladies,” Spencer plaid along, standing to curtsy back.

“We’ll see you tomorrow then?” Y/N asked from the blanket as Amoreena dove into her arms.

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Spencer smiled one last time.

“Bye Spencer!!” Amoreena cheered as he waved, walking back down the path towards the main park entrance.

With his satchel draped over his shoulder, he pushed his sleeves up as he walked towards his bike, overwhelmed by the feeling of joy still swirling in his blood. Peddling his way down the path with a smile on his face, excited to get home and plan for the Smithsonian tomorrow, he was an excellent tour guide.

And he did actually have some connections.

Calling the museum curator, an old friend from years ago who owed him a favour. Asking if there was any way he could show his friend and her kid around the un-displayed dinosaurs and fossils, of course she said yes. People seemed to do anything for Dr. Reid of the FBI.

He thought about her job offer then as he hung up, reaching the train station finally and making his way back to his sad apartment. It would be nice to change things up for a bit, it’s not like he couldn’t go back to the FBI in 20 years like Rossi did.

15 years in the field and a metric fuck ton of trauma later, he was officially fed up. Opening his computer the second he got home, writing his 2 weeks notice to be forwarded to Mateo Cruz.

—

He woke up with excitement, for the first time in years.

Well, at first he was happy, then he thought about it too long. Despair creeping in, it was truly sad to think that he’s been sad for so long, desperately needing the happiness Y/N and Amoreena brought to his life.

Like when he spent time around Henry or Hank, there was something so rewarding about witnessing a child see something for the first time. Explaining the world to them, seeing their eyes widen as they enjoyed the world around them.

It was the best thing someone could do, spending the day living with the happiness of a child.

Y/N had texted him right as he woke up, the chime of a new message actually making him smile instead of panic.

Y/N: hey smartie pants, we’re thinking 11 am today. Can we meet you out front?”

Spencer: sure! You should start preparing to hear me ramble all day long. Also my I suggest bringing proper shoes for lots of walking and a backpack for the things Amoreena will get to bring home!

Y/N: oh you weren’t kidding about those connections huh?

Spencer: nope!

Y/N: well, can’t wait to see what you have in store for us! (And to hear your voice all day ♥︎)

It made his heart swell, he could swear it grew three sizes as it pushed against his ribs. Trying to break free from him and run to her, he hadn’t felt this strongly about another person in a very long time.

It wasn’t lust, it wasn’t greed, it wasn’t desperation. He didn’t just want to sleep with her or use her to fill his time, she wasn’t just another friend to occupy his days and talk to when he had to, she was special. She was interesting, she was kind, she was beautiful, she reminded him of his own mother in a strange way that made him fear Fraud was right.

He found a comfort in her that felt a little like home, like all his running led him to her. She was the end of the finish line, the cold glass of water, the euphoric pride of a job well done. She was everything good wrapped up in a beautiful bow and he was gone.

Feeling like he did when he met Ethan, Derek, or Elle for the first time, even Maeve when they were just talking on the phone, that butterfly feeling that excited him to try something new.

Y/N made him believe in possibilities again.

It felt nice to look ahead, to dream and wish of the future and not see death and destruction. Instead, dreaming of them running through the fields, flowers dancing everywhere as they hear Amoreena’s laughter. It’s how life is supposed to be.

[theshelbyclan]

The Young Nurse

Summary: When it turns out Finn is more ill than anyone suspected, you don’t know what to do, apart from being practical about it and taking care of him

(Gif by @nofckingfighting​) A/N: The amazing @staygold-bebold​ send me her first request and I’m SO honoured: Hellooo there :) This is my first fic request *smiles shyly* I have this idea in my head for a while now... How about sick!Finn with reader taking care of him? I'm hoping for it to take place between seasons 2 and 3, so he is still soft. (before blinding the Changretta man in s4) Bonus if there can be an innocent cuddle in it! 😊 I love love love the way you portrayed Finn in your fics and how you never write too mushy fics even with fluff in it. Hope this is ok!You are such a wholesome sweetheart, I love this idea. Hope I did it justice! Finn’s fourteen in this one (so season 2) and the reader is of a similar age. Words: 2537

*** “I don’t feel so good…” “What?” you’d asked, but before Finn could answer, he’d fallen down and passed out already. 

At first, you had to laugh and you could hear others do the same. Everyone was down at the Garrison to celebrate and Finn had been sneaking whiskey all night. Tommy kept on taking it off of him, but John allowed it. Like it was really his first time drinking whiskey anyways… You were working at the bar. Officially, you were too young for the job, but your mother worked there and you occasionally helped out. Being only fourteen, you did work at the Garrison, but only during daytime, to clean. This is how you and Finn had met and he used to sit with you while you worked, watching and talking. He was a different boy away from his family. You never really talked much, it just wasn’t in your nature. But you could observe and deduce things that others failed to notice. For example, Finn was different with John. He was careful around Arthur, because he was the one to usually tell him to piss off. This annoyed Finn, as he desperately wanted to be seen as a man. With Tommy he was acting tough, trying to prove something, but never quite succeeding. But with John, he was just the little brother. John let him ride horses, let him drink and talked and played around with him. In all honesty, it seemed like Finn could make John forget all he’d seen and done, and allowed him to be a boy once again. So, it was John who’d given him the whiskey. When Finn fell down, you all laughed. Tommy took him back home and sighed deeply, “I fucking told you, didn’t I? And now I’m having to waste my fucking time on you, eh?” You’d seen many men fall down for the drink, but something didn’t feel right. Frowning but not speaking, you decided to keep an eye on your friend. ***

The next day, you went to Polly’s. She told you Finn was still in bed and that you couldn’t see him right now. “What’s wrong with him?” “Finn’s having his first ever hangover!” John called from the kitchen, grinning broadly. But Polly’s face showed some worry, “He’s puking his guts out, that’s for sure, and he can’t hold down any water. It’s the shortness of breath that’s worrying…” “Is he still drinking?” you asked at once. “What do you want with him?” John inquired, “Sit by his bed and hold his hand?” “Just wanted to see if he needs anything…” you mumbled. “Like his girlfriend maybe,” Arthur growled deeply. “I’m not his girlfriend!” you replied indignantly, but immediately you looked down again to hide your blushing. You’d never talked back to any other Shelby than Finn and it scared you. “Leave her alone, Arthur,” Tommy spoke from the shadows, “She’s a good girl, Y/N, sensible. She won’t do anything that isn’t proper or right, eh?” “Y/N,” Polly saved you, “Come back tomorrow. He needs to rest now.” And so you came back the next day, and the next, and the next, always being denied entrance into Finn’s bedroom. His chest pains had gotten worse and he had real trouble breathing now. You were tired of waiting. At home, you had started pacing for fear of the unknown. “What’s the matter with you?” your mother challenged, “You’re never like this. You’re supposed to be the calm one, I’m the agitated and loud one.” She was right. Sometimes you wondered if you and your mother were even related, because you couldn’t be more different. She worked at the bar, talking easily to all men and flirting always. You liked to hide in a corner and passed unnoticed. Your mother preferred the company during work, while you enjoyed the work in silence. Everyone knew your mother, but few even knew she had a kid. Your mother always complained how you were too boring, too practical, too silent, while you just whished for a mother to take care of you, not the other way around… All of this played out in your head, but you didn’t say a word. Then one night, it became too much to bear and you decided to do the bravest thing you had ever done in your short life. Silently, you crept out of your own bed and put on some clothes. While you were making your way out of the house, you saw your own reflection in the mirror, and you faltered. Strictly you said to yourself, “Y/N, stop being a baby. Do you want to go on the rest of your life not mattering to anyone? Finn needs you. Now man up, and go!” So you breathed in deeply and slipped out the front door. That was the easy part done, but now came the difficult part. Standing in front of the Shelby home, you cursed your own sudden courage but decided there was no going back now. Clattering up the drainpipe, you reached the roof of the houses at Watery Lane. Like a cat, without making a sound, you crawled towards the room in which Finn usually slept. Peering in, you saw he was alone: a stroke of luck. Getting the window to open was a lot easier than you’d feared. But what to do now that you were inside? You didn’t have much time to think it over, because Finn suddenly woke up and opened his eyes. “Y/N? What are you doing here?” You blushed again, “I wanted to see you,” you whispered. “How did you get in?” he said in a hushed voice. “I climbed the roof and came in through the window.” “Does Aunt Pol know?” “Obviously not, if I climbed the roof, silly!” you hissed. Finn frowned, “Is this a dream? It’s a dream, isn’t it… I’ve been having the weirdest dreams lately…” You quickly walked over to his bed and knelt down next to it, “I’m really here Finn.” “You climbed the roof,” Finn raised his eyebrows, “Y/N would never climb a roof. Without permission from Aunt Pol. In the middle of the night.” “Well, I did.” “In my dream you did.” “Finn!” you said, a little louder than anticipated, “It’s not a dream!” And you pinched him, “See?” “Ow!” he called out, “That hurt…” He actually looked a little betrayed and hurt, so you had difficulty in stopping yourself from laughing. You managed to hide it though, by taking a cloth from a washing basin and dabbing his head with it. He was burning up and worry took a hold of you. “Y/N?” Finn asked, “What are you doing?” “Taking care of you,” you said matter-of-factly. “Why?” “Well, I can’t imagine your brothers are doing much to help you,” annoyance slipped into your tone. “John’s scared,” Finn said softly, “We lost Martha and he doesn’t like people being ill after that. Tommy thinks it’s just the whiskey, maybe they all do. Arthur was never great with… anything really.” “What about Pol?” you asked, while taking his pulse with two fingers. Finn shrugged a little, “She’s got Michael now.” Full of sympathy, you looked at him. “I’m glad you’re here,” he smiled, “Got bored.” “Your pulse is fast,” you commented, “Have you been drinking enough?” But the two of you were rudely interrupted by someone barging into the room. Polly’s eyebrows rose, she looked like she was about to start yelling, but then motioned for you to follow her. Without a second thought, you obeyed. “Care to tell me what’s been going on?” she demanded once you were downstairs. You were officially scared of her, but answered, “He needs someone to look after him.” “Does he now?” “He’s seriously ill, Polly,” you said, but quickly followed it with, “Sorry, Miss Gray…” And for the second time, Tommy emerged from the shadows, “No need to stand on formal ceremony. How did you get into my house?” “Roof,” you practically trembled. “Jesus Christ…” Polly sighed, “Young love, that’s all we need…” “It’s not about that!” you called out, “He’s actually ailing! And he’s still vomiting after three days, he’s dehydrated, has difficulty breathing, a seriously high fever and his pulse is too fast. I don’t think it’s the whiskey, Mr. Shelby.”

“Not the whiskey, eh?” he slowly lit a cigarette, “Then what is your diagnosis?” “Influenza,” you said at once, “Saw my father die of it.” “And you checked his fever and pulse, you said?” Polly asked, in a much calmer voice now. “Yes, both elevated. He needs medicine,” you said in a practical manner, “I can see if I can get any Ginseng or elderberry, but I can’t get a hold of any other drugs.” “Surely it’s not that serious…” Polly objected. “It is,” you interrupted her, “he needs medicine fast and he needs fluids. He seems fine, but tonight might be critical.”

“Tell me, Y/N, how do you know all of this,” Tommy asked softly, seemingly unaffected by all of this. Again, you blushed, “I want to be a nurse.” “Makes sense,” Polly smirked a little. “I mean, I would like to…” you stumbled, “Can��t, but, I still want to help people…” Tommy understood at once, “If you can save Finn tonight, I’ll pay for your schooling. Now, tell me what I need to get.” Polly turned around and looked at her nephew with big eyes, asking, but not speaking out loud. He did reply however, “Y/N’s the most sensible person I know and she’s only fourteen, Pol. We’re not losing Finn. Let her take care of him.” For a moment, it looked like Polly was about to argue with him again, but then she closed her mouth. After a few seconds of silence, she asked, “What can I do?” “Do you have any green tea?” you grew shy at ordering a woman like Polly Gray about, “Green tea would be good for him…” “Tea,” she repeated and stood up to make some, “Anything else?” “Maybe you could send someone to my mother’s house, because I know she has the elderberry and Ginseng I mentioned.” “I’ll send John,” Tommy nodded and he told you, “Go sit with Finn. Let us know if anything changes.” Suddenly feeling numb, you walked up the stairs again. It was like this little conversation had only just made clear to you in how much danger Finn actually was. And it scared you, because Finn really was your only friend and you needed him. Sitting by his bed, he had lost consciousness again. It was as you had said: this night would be critical. Whenever he did wake a little, you tried pouring some of the green tea into him and luckily he kept it down. Still, his pulse was racing and his fever was blazing. Waiting and praying, you had no idea that downstairs Polly was doing the exact same thing. The next day went by uneventful. It seemed impossible to get him to drink enough, but you never stopped trying, mixing different drugs in with the liquids and teas, hoping it would be enough to save him. Every two hours or so, Tommy came walking up the stairs and when he came into the room, he only asked one question: “Has the danger passed?” You had to keep on disappointing him over and over. When Finn was awake, he ailed. ‘Awake’ was too liberal a term anyways, because you could no longer talk to him and his eyes wouldn’t focus. Sometimes he’d ask for you and when you talked to him and he recognised you voice, he became calm again and drifted off to sleep. “Y/N?” he once asked, “When I die, where will I go?” “Heaven, I suppose…” you muttered, “But you’re not dying, Finn, I won’t allow it. Now, drink this and rest.” “What do you mean, you won’t allow it?” “You’re young and you still have things to do!” you called out. “Like what?” he muttered, “Business? My brothers all think I’m just a kid… useless…” Angrily, you threw the wet cloth on his head again, “Well, I’d miss you. I need someone to talk to while I’m working and that’s you. Now, stop talking about dying.” “Okay,” he whispered, and drifted off again.

Another few hours passed and he wasn’t awake much. Was his fever going down, or were you just imagining it? Maybe it was wishful thinking…

The next time Finn woke up, he was complaining, “I’m cold. Is it cold? Because I’m really cold…”

And the concern was right back, because he was actually sleeping under five blankets already and even though it was Birmingham, it was in fact summer.

“Y/N,” he whined, “I’m really cold…”

“Sweetheart, I don’t know what else to do. Do you want some more tea?”

“That doesn’t help.”

So you decided quickly, “Okay, move. I’m going in.”

His eyes opened a little more in surprise, “In?”

“In the bed,” you clarified, “don’t get excited. I’m warm, boiling actually because of the fire, and I can warm you.”

So here you were, in bed with Finn Shelby. And for the first time, you felt your own pulse quickening.

Of course this was the moment that Tommy chose to check up on Finn again, taking half his family with him. They just stood there and stared.

“He was cold,” you explained meekly.

“Right,” Tommy said, smoking quietly.

“How is he?” Polly asked.

It’d been a few hours since you last checked and when you felt for his pulse, it appeared to have slowed down a little. Also, his head wasn’t feeling as hot as it had been before. He hadn’t vomited for a few hours now and when you looked at him, you saw he was wide awake, with a small smile of satisfaction playing around his lips.

“He doesn’t look unhappy,” John ventured.

“He has no bloody reason to be unhappy,” Arthur added with a grin.

“Tell me,” Tommy said simply.

And you sighed a sigh of relief, “The danger had passed.”

“Better thank your girlfriend, Finn!” John practically cheered.

“I’m not…” you sighed, but you didn’t have the energy to finish that sentence.

“Leave them be,” Polly said in a soft voice, “they both need to rest now.”

“I wouldn’t rest much with my girlfriend in bed…” John continued teasing.

You ground out, for what felt like the 20

th

time, “Not. His. Girlfriend.”

Finally, everyone left, which took some force on Polly’s part. You looked at Finn and noticed he was getting a bit of colour back into his cheeks already. He’d even complained about being hungry, which was surely a good sign.

“Y/N?” he asked.

“Yes,” you said softly, “what is it?”

“I have a question,” he tried to sit up, but you wouldn’t let him, “Thank you for taking care of me, but why?”

“You’re my friend,” you stated simply.

He shook his head, “No.”

“No?”

He didn’t respond for a while, but then repeated, “Y/N?”

“Yes?”

“Just ignore my brothers and whatever they’re saying.”

“They’re wrong,” you smiled, “They don’t even know us.”

“They don’t,” he confirmed and then he was silent for a few moments, fidgeting with the buttons of his pyjama’s.

“Y/N?”

“Finn?”

“I don’t want them to be wrong…”

“What do you mean?” you furrowed your brow while he stared at you with an expectant look.

“Will you be my girlfriend?”

***

Masterlist

[gumnut-logic]

I know I’ve posted this one before, but what the hell. It’s Johnny and one of my favs :D

-o-o-o-

John Tracy was sick.

Which meant John Tracy wasn’t allowed to go home.

Sure, he could say that he was home, but it didn’t really feel like home. It was full of brothers and people he loved, but it didn’t feel like home.

Home was among the stars.

But apparently astronauts with the flu weren’t allowed to go home.

“It won’t be for long, John. It will be over before you know it.” Virgil was kind and reassuring, but it didn’t really help.

He wanted to go home.

He was determined to work, of course. Until Scott caught him and cut him off.

There were some loud words over that, but the medical department of IR (aka Virgil) sided with the command department (aka Scott) and yeah, he was grounded, cut off from his ‘bird, holed up in his room and miserable.

Of course, his brothers attempted to cheer him up. Alan dumped himself on his bed chattering away with his latest game, all eager enthusiasm. Gordon brought him a pet crab. Even cared for it for him. John was left wondering if it was a snarky metaphor as the crab sat under a rock all day and had a distinct grumpy appearance.

Virgil and Scott were more subtle, but no less caring. Scott ran ideas past him for communications improvements. Piano music and the occasional piece of art found its way into his rooms uninvited.

He appreciated it. Truly, he did.

He just wanted to go home.

The morning he woke up with a cat sleeping on his chest was the last straw.

“C’mon, guys. You know I’m allergic to cats. Are your trying to kill me?” He held the cat out at arm’s length just waiting for his nasal passages to swell up. Though at this point considering his condition, he wasn’t really sure he would notice.

The cat meowed pitifully at him.

Virgil frowned.

Scott arched an eyebrow.

Gordon looked guilty....but then he always looked guilty. John was sure it was an inbuilt survival strategy.

Alan was cooing at the cat and reaching out to scratch it under the chin.

It was an orange stripy thing with big whiskers and that ragdoll floppiness all cats sported.

“Gordon?” Scott’s arched eyebrow was now pointed at the aquanaut.

“What are you looking at me for? I got him the crab, why would I get him a cat? The cat will eat the crab.” Gordon frowned at John. “Don’t let the cat eat the crab.”

Not a sentence John had ever predicted hearing in his lifetime.

“Can someone please take this thing?” He held out the cat even further.

Virgil, still frowning, gently collected the cat from John’s hands and automatically curled it up in his arms. A finger scratched under its chin.

“Thank you. I’m going back to bed.”

And he did.

The next time he woke, a pair of green feline eyes were staring at him, the cat, once again, curled up on his chest.

What?

It meowed at him and poked his nose with a paw.

“Virgil!”

He must have yelled a little too much because next minute his big brother barrelled into the room, panic on his face. “John, what the-?!”

His eyes landed on the cat and his shoulders literally sagged. “Goddamnit, that’s where you are. I’ve been looking for you for hours.” Virgil reached to pick up the cat.

The cat turned from mild mannered bed companion to spitting and screeching demon within a blink. Virgil yelped and fell backwards, his feet slipping on the mat and his butt hitting the floor with a crash.

One of John’s telescopes teetered before tipping ever so slowly. Virgil saw it and struggled to catch it. “Shiiit!” He threw himself in its path and the four-foot metal cylinder landed in his lap.

There was an oomph and Virgil was flat on his back on the floor.

Demon cat kneaded John’s chest a little before settling once more.

It began to purr.

“Virgil? You okay?”

His brother grunted and John struggled out of bed, shoving the cat out of the way. “Virgil?”

“I’m good.” It was up an octave higher than normal. “Sorry about your telescope.”

John grabbed the telescope off his brother and righted it. It was his own fault for leaving it there in the first place. Stargazing from bed was a habit much more easily exercised on TB5.

Virgil waved off his offered hand and rolled over, pushing himself to his feet with another grunt. He eyed the cat with suspicion. “I thought we had an understanding, Bagel.”

The cat eyed Virgil with equal suspicion.

“Bagel?”

“Gordon claims it is your cat so needs a John name.”

“A John name?”

“Yeah, Bagel it is.”

“It’s not my cat! And where did it come from anyway?” John frowned at Virgil. “Another stowaway on Two.”

“No! You know we have sensors for that now. And besides, that was only once.”

“Twice.”

“Once. The polar bear doesn’t count.”

“The polar bear most assuredly does count. Alan still hasn’t forgiven you.”

“Really?”

“It was a polar bear, Virgil.”

“Yeah, well, that is your cat.”

“That is not my cat.”

“Apparently she has decided she is yours.” Virgil held up his hands. Several scratches decorated his skin. “I have enough of these already. She’s yours.”

“I’m allergic.”

Virgil peered up at him, brown eyes assessing. “You don’t appear to be suffering a reaction. She’s been gone for hours. If she has been here, on your chest all that time, you should be showing the affects. All I can see is the remains of your flu.” A frown. “Are you feeling any better?”

It was John’s turn to frown. He had almost forgotten he was ill, but now his attention returned to his body, the signs were clear.

But he was feeling a little better.

“A little.”

Virgil reached up and squeezed his arm. “Good. You hungry?”

A brief consultation with his stomach and he realised that yes, he was. “Yes, I think so.”

A smile spread over his brother’s face. “Great. You’re on the mend.” Another squeeze of his arm and Virgil turned towards the door. “Meet you in the kitchen. Scott went all out this morning and made pancakes. I stashed you some. Gotta grab them before Gordon discovers them.”

“FAB.” John couldn’t help but return his brother’s smile.

Virgil grinned and with a half-hearted groan rubbed his butt and staggered with some exaggeration out the door. “Don’t forget your cat.”

John turned back to stare at the ginger monstrosity still sitting on his bed, calmly grooming.

“Bagel, is it?”

The cat blinked and kept licking its fur.

John sighed and grabbed his clothes.

-o-o-o-

The cat followed him downstairs for the meal, which turned out to be dinner. He had managed to sleep the day away. Apparently, this was a good thing, because for the first time in days, he could move without creaking.

Virgil had indeed stashed pancakes and within minutes there was a short stack piled up in front of him complete with ice cream and maple syrup. Before he even bothered to acknowledge the envy emanating from Gordon across the other side of the table, the stack began to disappear.

Scott knew how to make pancakes. John considered his big brother’s purpose in life and came to the immediate conclusion that it should be IR, family and pancakes.

Of course, pancakes could be a subset of family if considered that way, but there was always the possibility of him opening a business as a pancake chef.

Blink.

Yes, the flu had obviously taken part of his brain with it.

A pair of blue eyes and two pairs of brown were staring at him.

“What?”

“Did you bother to breathe between bites, bro?” Gordon gestured with his head at the table.

John looked down and found his plate empty. “Guess I was hungry. Scott makes great pancakes.”

“Yes, he does.” Virgil plonked a glass of orange juice in front of him and took away his sticky plate. “Now drink your juice and we’ll set up for family movie.”

“Aren’t you guys going to eat?”

“Already eaten.” Scott was poking at his phone, holograms bouncing around above it. “Grandma made meatloaf surprise again.”

John choked on his juice. “Really?”

“Uh-huh.” Scott did look a little green around the gills.

Well, that explained the envy on Gordon’s face and why Alan was very absent.

“Anyone feed the youngest?”

“All under control.” Virgil chucked Gordon a celery crunch bar and the aquanaut grabbed it from the air.

It was devoured faster than John’s pancakes.

Virgil wandered back into the kitchen proper and soon there was the delicious smell of hot popcorn wafting through the room. The engineer walked past the table again and dumped a chocolate bar in front of Scott. Another one landed in front of John.

“Consider it a survivor’s reward.” Virgil grabbed Scott’s phone out of his hand.

“Hey!”

“Stop working, this is family time. Everything can wait a couple of hours.”

Scott glared at his brother, but grabbed the chocolate bar and capitulated anyway.

Probably because he knew Virgil was right. It was so easy to get absorbed with International Rescue business. John knew he was a fantastic example case of such a syndrome.

A sigh.

Scott glanced up at him. “How are you doing, John?” A smirk. “How’s Bagel?”

As if beckoned, the cat in question suddenly leapt up on to the table and stalked the length of it towards Scott. John’s eyes widened as his eldest brother was targeted by a feline glare of epic proportions.

Scott’s expression was quite an amusing mixture and defiance and terror. Bagel sat down in front of him and after a moment of intense eyeballing decided Scott was boring and started washing herself.

“That is one weird cat, John.”

Everyone jumped as Bagel shot to her feet and dashed across the table at Gordon. “Holy crap!” The aquanaut scrambled backwards as Bagel ran at him. He tangled his feet in the stool he was sitting on and with a crash, ended up on the floor.

“Ow.”

Reaching the edge of the table, Bagel stopped and peered down at the fallen Thunderbird and, apparently deciding Gordon was no more interesting than Scott, sat down and returned to grooming.

The remaining three vertical brothers stared at each other and the cat.

No one said a thing.

“Uh, can someone give me a hand up, here?” Gordon vaguely waved an arm about and Virgil edged around the table to help his brother up.

His eyes barely left Bagel.

“Has anyone fed the cat?” John threw the question in there as a bit of an icebreaker since said cat had frozen the room almost solid.

Bagel looked up and stared at John for a moment before jumping to her feet and ambling over. A simple step off the table and she was in his lap, circling for moment to find a comfortable spot, then curling up and purring.

Again, everyone was staring at the orange fluff ball, John included.

“You have a very strange cat.” Apparently, Gordon hadn’t learnt from his earlier experience, but fortunately, Bagel ignored him this time.

John stared down at the purring ball of fur.

Yes, it seems he did.

-o-o-o-

Despite the possessed cat, the rest of the night went very well. All five brothers plus Kayo threw down some pillows, curled up in front of the holoprojector and waded through a trashy b-grade movie that looked like they were using mannequins for actors and plastic models for set pieces. There was popcorn, laughter and loving family. John felt warm and relaxed and better than he had in days. Somewhere between action scenes, he drifted off to the tinny soundtrack and the sound of his brothers criticising the special effects.

“Johnny?” It was whispered “Johnny, you’ve got to move or you’ll end up with one hell of a neckache.”

A blink and he found himself looking at Virgil upside down. Wha-?

“C’mon, bro. Up you get.” And his brother was lifting him up. Another blink and he realised he was lying on one of the couches...almost upside down, his feet at an angle above his head with his head hanging off the seat cushion. He was far too long for the piece of furniture and, apparently, he had stretched in his sleep.

Virgil was shifting his shoulders into a more horizontal position. Beyond him, the holoprojector was listing all the languages the movie was available in, complete with appropriate copyright warnings. Idly he noted that the Hungarian translation had an error in the third line.

John let his feet drop to the end of the couch before folding up enough to force himself upright. Ugh, Virgil was right. His neck cricked and creaked along with his spine. God, gravity was a nasty piece of work. It had also apparently dribbled all the mucus in his body into his head. His skull protested at the pressure as he sat up and he groaned.

“John?”

Why did everyone think Scott was the worry wart of the family? Virgil with his medical radar was just as bad, if not worse. “I’m fine. Just a head full of snot.” Ugh. Right between his eyeballs, throbbing to the beat of his heart. “Just kill me now.”

Suddenly there was an orange cat in his face, staring.

“What? Bagel, not now.” He gently picked up the cat and put her on the couch beside him. Where the hell had she come from anyway?

A pitiful meow was her response and she edged nearer brushing her cheek against his arm.

Despite himself, he turned to her. “What’s wrong?”

She looked up at him with a combination of adoration and haughtiness. He had no idea what to make of that expression.

Of course, she was a cat. Who understood cats?

“Are you two having a moment?” His brother’s smiling baritone broke the silence and to John’s surprise, Bagel turned to Virgil and hissed angrily.

His big brother took a hurried step back.

“Bagel! Leave him alone! He will never hurt you. For goodness sake, Virgil wouldn’t hurt a fly. Give him some respect.”

To his complete surprise, Bagel stopped hissing immediately. She turned to him almost a question on her face before once again looking at Virgil. Her head dropped and stared at the floor.

“What the hell?” It was little more than breath and all his big brother. Virgil was staring at Bagel, his brow crumpling into a deep frown.

Bagel’s head shot up and once again she was staring at Virgil.

Virgil’s frown got even deeper.

“John where did you get this cat from?”

“I told you, I don’t know. I’ve never seen her before in my life.”

Virgil continued his staring contest with the cat.

“What is it?” His brother’s expression was becoming unnerving, so suddenly determined, it was almost fierce.

“I don’t know.” A pause. “Keep her out of sensitive areas for me, will you?”

“Sure.”

Bagel continued to stare at Virgil.

Virgil continued to stare at Bagel.

A solid moment passed and then his brother was shaking his head, looking at his feet, looking at John. “You good to make it up to your rooms?”

“Yeah.”

“I need to go hunt down Scott. One of the TI directors in the States forgot the time zones. He’s been on the phone for half an hour already.” Virgil sighed.

“Need backup?”

“No.” A hand dropped to John’s shoulder. “You go to bed, you need it. I’ve got this.” The hand disappeared and Virgil climbed out of the lounge, heading towards the balcony.

Bagel was licking her paw.

John sighed. Perhaps some paracetamol would help. “C’mon, Bagel, apparently, you’re with me.” He picked her up and held her against his chest as he staggered to his feet. Cursed gravity. How he missed being able to make the smallest movements and coast across a room.

Bagel reached her head up and snuggled under his chin, her purr vibrating his sternum.

“Why me?” It was little more than an exhaled breath and he wasn’t sure it was a complaint or an actual question.

In either case, Bagel didn’t answer. She just purred into his chest.

So, it remained a mystery for another night.

-o-o-o-

“It just appeared. No trace on sensors, nothing. It’s as if it didn’t exist before the day before yesterday.”

Virgil’s puzzled voice echoed up the stairs as John approached the kitchen the next morning. He glanced at his watch. This was early for his brother; he usually wasn’t up for another hour at least.

“I’m telling you, Scott, there is something very strange about that cat.”

John paused at the top of the stairs, his hands curled around Bagel, gently scratching her under the chin. He had awoken again with her on his chest, but unlike the previous two incidents, he had found himself surprisingly comforted with her presence.

Her purring was strangely calming.

“I will admit she is quite volatile.” Scott’s voice was surprisingly reluctant. “She didn’t even take to Gordon. Every living creature takes to Gordon. Except lizards, I guess. Hell, she doesn’t even like you.”

“That’s just it. She doesn’t act like a cat.”

“What, just because she doesn’t like you?”

“I’m sorry, Scott. Something just doesn’t feel right. Why is she so attached to John? What if she is a plant after our technology?”

“A tech seeking cat? Really?”

“Wouldn’t be the first time an animal has been used for espionage.”

Scott sighed and John shifted, attempting to loosen the tense muscles in his shoulders.

“It’s just that John appears to have latched onto Bagel as much as the cat has to him. How often does John attach to anybody?”

“And that’s what scares me the most. What happens when he returns to TB5? He can’t take a cat with him. It wouldn’t be safe for either of them.”

“Then we look after Bagel for him.”

It was Virgil’s turn to sigh and it was a worried one.

John chose that moment to make his entrance. He stepped lightly down the stairs. “You two really do worry far too much.”

Both brothers started as he entered. The guilty expressions on their faces were quite amusing.

“Virgil, if you are worried about Bagel, scan her.” John held the cat out to his brother. “Take her up to the infirmary and run her through a thorough physical. In fact, I would prefer if you did since as you said, I have become somewhat attached to her. As to what we are going to do when I return to Five...” He shrugged. “I hope we can work something out.”

Virgil managed to look both apologetic and sad.

To John’s astonishment, Bagel wriggled out of his grip and jumped down to the floor. She ambled over to Virgil. His brother froze, obviously wary, but the cat gently brushed up against his leg and rubbed the length of her body across his boots.

The whole room stared.

“Good morning, Bagel.” Virgil’s voice was a little breathless.

“Good morning, Virgil.” The whole room jumped as Brains jogged down the stairs and passing them, bee-lined for the fridge.

“‘Morning, Brains, John.” Gordon wandered in from the pool rubbing a towel through his hair. “Yaargh! What the hell, Virgil. You gone to the cat side?” He took several steps back as he caught sight of Bagel.

Bagel, still wrapped around Virgil’s ankles, turned towards Gordon and spat at him.

“That damn cat is possessed.” The aquanaut made sure the table was between him and the feline.

Bagel glared at him, following with her eyes.

“Eos, I know G-Gordon can b-be a challenge, b-but really, h-he is a good man.” Brains was pouring milk into his cereal on the bench.

“Yes, but he is so annoying.” The AI’s voice bounced across the house’s comm system.

“He st-still deserves r-respect.”

The comm system grunted.

Every eye in the room stared at the engineer.

Gordon found his voice first. “Wow, Brains, thanks.”

John was staring at Bagel. “Eos what do you know about Bagel?”

“Oh, John, everything.” The little imp was so smug.

Two strides and John was beside Virgil. Reaching down, he snagged Bagel off the floor and held her up, his eyes raking over the cat. A moment of intense examination. Bagel stared back at him calmly.

“Okay, how did you do it?”

“Do what, John?”

“Do not mess with me, Eos. I want answers and I want them now.”

“Hiram helped me.”

“Helped you do what?” Scott’s voice was sharp. “Brains?”

“It was a v-very interesting challenge.”

“What did you do, Brains?” Commander Tracy stood up from the table, his height saying everything it needed to.

Brains didn’t notice.

“Oh, Eos had an e-excellent idea to equip Thunderbird F-Five with an internal m-mobile probe mechanism.

“Yes, something that could get into the spaces John cannot.” Still smug. Oh, there would be some serious talking at a later time.

“So, you built a cat.” Virgil’s eyes were wide.

Brains sipped his orange juice, still seemingly unaware of the tension in the room. “She didn’t think I could. So, I did.” He was definitely pleased with himself.

“You built a cat?” Gordon was an echo of his brother. “That cat?” He stabbed a finger in Bagel’s direction.

“Yes?” Finally, the man appeared to realise that something was amiss. “I’m v-very happy with the r-results. It performs v-very well.”

It certainly did. John had her under his arm and found himself scratching her under her chin despite everything.

He forced himself to stop.

“John?”

“Yes, Eos?”

“Do you like her?” Suddenly he was a parent faced with his child’s school science project and the need for approval.

Some science project.

“I like her, Eos.”

“Can we keep her?”

“That is yet to be decided.” It came out firm. It needed to be firm...even though he already knew the answer.

“But-“

“Eos, why didn’t you tell us Bagel wasn’t really a cat?”

“But she is...”

“Eos.”

“John...”

“Eos!”

“I missed you.”

He froze. “I’m right here.”

“But it’s not the same.” That was a definite whine. “You’re not with me. It gets lonely up here without you. So, I built a way to be down there with you.” Bagel rubbed her cheek against his hand.

“Eos is in the cat?” Gordon’s jaw may as well have been on the floor. “She hates me that much?!”

“I don’t hate you, Gordon. You are quite funny. Somewhat clumsy, but funny.”

“Eos.”

“Yes, John?”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

No answer.

“Brains, why didn’t you tell us?” Commander Tracy was glaring at the engineer.

“T-Tell you what?”

“About Eos and the cat.”

“That would have r-ruined the experiment.”

“What?”

“Eos w-wanted to see if the f-feline programming was sufficient. The b-best way to do that was test it.”

“On us?” Gordon spouted outrage.

“Surprisingly only V-Virgil appears to have b-been concerned. I w-would be interested to hear your evaluation.”

“Sure.” Virgil appeared to still be processing. Probably attempting to work out exactly how Brains had pulled it off.

“Brains, you, Eos, John and I are going to have a serious conversation.” Scott’s voice was stern. “This is not happening again. This family is not an experimental lab.”

“It was not his fault, Commander.”

Scott arched an eyebrow up at the ceiling. “Really, Eos? I have no doubt that John has a few choice words to be said on this matter.” Oh, yes, choice and many. “In the meantime, please cease the experiment.”

“But-“

“Eos.”

“Very well.”

The cat in John’s arms went completely limp.

He couldn’t help it; a gasp passed his lips and he caught the sudden dead weight with both hands. “Eos!”

All life had left Bagel. She became nothing more than a lifeless corpse. Something inside him lurched horribly.

Every eye in the room was staring at him.

“John?” Virgil’s eyes flashed concern.

He gathered up the cat in his arms and gently placed her on the seat of one of the kitchen chairs.

So real. He shivered.

“You okay?” His big brother was suddenly beside him.

“That was unnerving.” Both of them stared at the immobile TB5 internal remote probe mechanism.

“Eos, can you please reactivate Bagel.”

“Virgil-“

“No, Scott. Too creepy, too real. Please, just...leave her be.”

To John’s surprise, Scott didn’t protest.

But Bagel didn’t move.

“Eos?” His own voice sounded hollow in his ears.

“Yes, John?”

“Please reactivate Bagel.”

“Why?”

“Eos, just please.”

“Very well.”

And Bagel uncurled herself, sat up and glared at Scott. Before Eos could exact any form of petulant revenge, he grabbed Bagel off the chair and held her in his arms.

“Thank you, Eos.”

“You are very welcome.” Impertinent little brat.

“Now, I’m going to have breakfast, then we are going to have that conversation.”

“Yes, John.”

Something in the room snapped and suddenly everyone went back to their morning routine with only the occasional stare at the cat in his arms.

“Would you like some cereal, John?” Virgil was heading towards the fridge.

“You don’t have to get me breakfast, Virgil.”

“You have your hands full and I’ve already had mine.”

“How early were you up this morning?”

“Early enough. Your cat weirded me out.”

Bagel was rubbing her cheek against his fingers again. He grabbed a chair and sat himself down, placing Bagel on the chair beside him. She started grooming herself quite content.

A bowl was placed in front of him, followed by a cereal box, milk and another glass of orange juice.

Bagel stared up at him

He shook his head slowly. “What am I going to do with you?”

The cat tilted her head and licked her whiskers.

And he knew that somewhere far above the planet his daughter was laughing.

-o-o-o-

[heroofpenamstan]

—OC PROFILES: JOANNE & MICHAEL

tagged by the lovelies: @shallow-gravy​, @shellibisshe​, @belorage​, @honeysides​, @strafethesesinners​, @faithchel​, @blissfulalchemist​! thank you, dears! x since i’m tragically late to the party as per usual, not going to be tagging anyone since i assume most of my mutuals have done it, but if you want to go right ahead and tag me too so i can see! :”)) also, fair warning: 80% of the questions i answered at ungodly hours overmedicated on paracetamol and it shows because re-reading this in the morning was a Yikes

GENERAL

name: joanne burton alias(es): jo, annie ( mike exclusive ), burton, dep, jr. deputy, rook, traitor, sinner, wrath/pain in the ass ( john exclusive ), rabbit ( jacob exclusive ), heinous fucking bitch—( also john exclusive ), black widow ( new dawn au ) gender: cis. female age: 29 birth: 30th october, 1988 place of birth: meridian, idaho spoken languages: english; may or may not recite some hebrew lines over the holidays sexual preference: bisexual occupation(s): junior deputy of hope county, montana/menace to all cultists everywhere ( in a certain radius of said hope county, montana, anyway )

APPEARANCE

eye colour: brown hair colour: black height: 157cm ( 5′2 ), or approximately 7′11 when balancing on michael’s shoulders to peer inside john’s windows scars: split right eyebrow ( thanks, jake ), minor cuts and incorrectly healed bruises and gashes, scarred bullet wound on left hip ( you’re welcome, jake )

FAVOURITE

colour: orange or yellow or cyan, or whatever is more stupidly eye-catching and not at all fit for her current environment song: i’ve been thinking by handsome boy modeling school food: various stir-fries, fruits and protein ( or anything that she claims to be “healthy” when, truly, bitch is one step away from living off of instant noodles and canned pineapple and cigarette buds from dutch’s stash ) drink: beerherbal teas and infusions

HAVE THEY

passed university: no, but passing the police academy was already a pleasant enough surprise for her had sex: today? no. two weeks ago? probably had sex in public: probably said two weeks ago gotten pregnant/ someone else pregnant: yes, but we don’t talk about it kissed a boy: yes ( derogatory ) kissed a girl: yes ( affectionate ) gotten tattoos: yes, loads: most were practice scribbles for her ex-girlfriend, and the only true meaningful one she possesses is lydia, scrawled into her pinky in remembrance. otherwise, john seed do not even engage with that rusty ass tattoo gun— gotten piercings: yes, loads multiplied; if there’s a place for a piercing in her ears, she has them. also, an old septum piercing she hasn’t worn in a hot second been in love: yes, loads squared ( girl rents out her heart on the weekdays and cries about the scratches she notices on saturday, but still repeats it all over again come monday; falling in love for her is easy, but actually loving someone and getting over her self-loathing to do so is a whole different ball game ) stayed up for more than 24 hours: she’s probably on hour 31 as we speak ( someone knock her out pls )

ARE THEY

a virgin: whitehorse has heard enough horror stories in the break room between her and joey to last him a lifetime a cuddler: closeted cuddler, yes a kisser: most definitely; woman has to play up her natural assets scared easily: her response time is too lagged for that jealous easily: depends; she’s more jealous of what she should have/could have/would have had in a general sense than being jealous of a particular person or a thing trustworthy: in her own way, yes dominant: disgustingly so submissive: not in this lifetime in love: very much so single: very much so part 2

RANDOM QUESTIONS (tw for self harm/suicide mention)

have they harmed themselves: yes, but it’s more by means of unintentional yet severe substance abuse thought of suicide: not as often as one would assume; joanne has a very strong sense of self-preservation, but tends to run from her bleak reality by means of one harmful way or the other attempted suicide: once or twice during her lowest points in life wanted to kill someone: on the daily have/had a job: girl had juggled three part-time jobs; there is nothing she fears anymore have any fears: ( see above ) to fall back into old bad habits, loss of control, death, failure, a bad future, poverty, being abandoned and forgotten, long stays at a hospital, the judges, the bliss, the power of john’s hair gel

FAMILY

sibling(s): micah burton ( older brother ) parent(s): abigail burton née belman ( mother ); jim burton ( father ) children: asher seed ( daughter in new dawn au ) significant other: jacob seed ( circumstantial lover/”could do without” mentor/#prisonwife #prisonhusband #imkidding #kinda ) pets: boomer for the cuddles, cheesecake for the throttles ( bitch naturally attracts the judges but will forget her dog 101 and run away like what does she think will happen then?? )

GENERAL

name: michael scott-hughes alias(es): mike, mikey, mickey ( mary may exlusive ), mike the bike/fall’s end’s bicycle, resistance’s poster boy, manwhore, cassanova, the archangel ( joseph exclusive ), the antichrist ( also joseph exclusive ), war dog, hughes boy ( fairgrave exclusive ) gender: cis. male age: 30 birth: 6th july, 1988 place of birth: fall’s end, montana spoken languages: english, russian, basic chinese mandarin and turkish sexual preference: pansexual occupation(s): residential shady, shady man ( international arm’s dealer, most recently demoted to local resistance leader and occasional general goods store co-owner )

APPEARANCE

eye colour: green hair colour: brown height: 181cm ( 5′11 ), and 6ft on tinder jkjk man’s confident enough to not grasp for that extra inch, unlike someone ( john ) scars: heavily burnt left hand ( from trying to fish out his ex girlfriend’s boiling corpse r.i.p. to that steaming puss— ), gash on his right temple, nicely healed gun wound on left shoulder, not so nicely healed amputated right hand ( man’s not having the best time in my canon, is he ), various incorrectly healed cuts and bruises

FAVOURITE

colour: green and rustics song: wild world by yusuf/cat stevens food: unlike the faker above, michael actually likes to cook and eat healthy meals, so anything from salads to veggies to oatmeal to soups will do ( and meat; man’s been a vegetarian for a grand total of 4 days in his entire life ( or 14, if you count the time he got abducted to john’s bunker womp )) drink: sugary drinkswhiskey, fresh juices, “water can be so, so sexy, annie—”

HAVE THEY

passed university: no, though michael really busted his ass to self-educate on subjects that will be beneficial to his line of work had sex: we stopped keeping tabs and numbers nearly ten years ago had sex in public: we stopped blinking at these types of shenanigans nearly ten years ago too gotten pregnant/ someone else pregnant: yes? no? maybe? ( mike’s too afraid to even think about it, but hopes he hasn’t fathered any babies any time soon ) kissed a boy: yes ( affectionate ) kissed a girl: yes ( affectionate² ) gotten tattoos: yes: the sword of damocles on his left inner forearm, intertwined snakes running across his right ribs, a tiny smiley face on his ass lord save him gotten piercings: yes, and everyone hated his attempt to revive the 90s with his lil earring like c’mon you already have a reputation of being a sleaze— been in love: yes, but surprisingly not as many times as one may think ( truthfully, three times: mary may, lana, joanne mary may again ) stayed up for more than 24 hours: sometimes it just cannot be helped

ARE THEY

a virgin: maybe in a past life as an amoeba a cuddler: yes ( try to escape his hold during a summer night i’ll give you 5 bucks if you can break the deadlock ) a kisser: he just exists to smooch at this point scared easily: truthfully, he’s quite desensitized as is, so it’s really hard to truly rock him jealous easily: no; though he might get a bit petty and bitter if someone mentions merle and mary may becuase, like, c’mon, mary—merle briggs? trustworthy: one of his better traits, but past events have shown that boy tends to lose some of his morals for love dominant: yes submissive: yes part 2 man will accommodate and switch it up in love: often single: loosely, often

RANDOM QUESTIONS (tw for self harm/suicide mention)

have they harmed themselves: michael has bad mental health trips stemming from having a lot of insecurities as a child; these may evolve into bad habits and pure recklessness on his part to prove his worth thought of suicide: these thoughts don’t come often, but when they do, it’s harder for him than most to shake them off and recover attempted suicide: once, during the boiling pit incident wanted to kill someone: yes, but it comes more from need than want usually have/had a job: yes, though no retail until he was 30 and stuck providing hope county with slugs and bullets have any fears: loneliness, rejection, abandonment, repercussions and consequences, not being good enough, powerlessness, loss, the angel pit, the process of dying

FAMILY

sibling(s): none, but: jackson hughes ( uncle ) parent(s): jessica hughes née scott ( mother ), david hughes ( father ) girl i have his whole family tree drawn up like you wouldn’t believe children: andrew hughes ( son in new dawn au and maybe canon ) significant other: mary may fairgrave ( childhood sweetheart/awkward ex/once in a rare cosmic event fuck buddy/volatile lovers ) pets: peaches loves him she doesn’t; she just wants to chew on his hair

[alecmagnuslwb]

Marriage is a Contract and My Signature is Unreadable

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John’s never seen a bride wear fishnets with their stunning white dress, but Dinah Lance is pulling it off somehow. Admittedly though John hasn’t seen that many brides that weren’t ghosts or the earthly demonic embodiment of some sort of hell beastie so maybe his experience in weddings and bridal wear is a bit skewed.

Of course he’s also a bit skewed because in his eyes no one at this wedding, not even the bride no disrespect to the woman who’s by far one of the few supers he can truly say he likes, is as stunning as his date. Zatanna sits beside him at their table, the reception in full swing now, her legs crossed the deep navy-blue asymmetrical dress she’s wearing showing off a tantalizing bit of her leg. Her tattoo, the twin to his peeks out from the front of the dress right next to the silver lining at the edges where the dress straps around her neck. She’s a fucking vision his Zatanna.

“I can’t believe they finally did it,” Zatanna says gliding her silver French tipped nails with little crescent moons on them along her glass of champagne. “I really thought Lois and Clark would be the only ones to take the plunge.”

Supers aren’t known for tying the knot, their world is so complicated and their relationships so wild they never find the time to actually get around to it. The fact that Dinah and Oliver managed to not only successfully get engaged, but plan a real wedding and have the ceremony without any major incidents happening in the middle is a miracle if John’s ever actually seen one.

“Who do you think’ll be next?” John says surveying the room. Every hero he’s ever met and ever butted heads with is here out of costume and all dressed up to the nines. There’s a congregation of Green Lantern’s by the bar, Superman is on the dance floor poorly attempting to floss as Nightwing laughs his fine ass off at him, the Flash is somehow dancing with his girlfriend and eating every item on the buffet simultaneously.  “Seems like two in a row will make a domino effect, yeah?”

Zatanna hums in thought her piercing blue eyes with the glittery navy blue and silver eyeliner around them shimmering in the light as she tilts her head in thought. She carefully scratches at the space beside the cluster of tiny rhinestones artfully placed around her right eyebrow and settles her eyes to a table across the room with a smile.

“Wally and Linda for sure,” she says tilting her head their direction. John swivels to look at them. Unlike Barry who’s still zooming back and forth from Iris to the buffet, Wally is wholly engrossed in every movement Linda makes as she talks rapidly her hands moving all about as she speaks to Mia Dearden on the other side of the table. That is a man wholly in love, enraptured by the woman he gets to call his own. John understands the sentiment as he looks back to Zatanna her dark blue painted lips still resting in a beautiful smile.

“What if it was us?” John asks leaning in closer to her a wicked smile on his face.

Zatanna snorts, a harsh indelicate thing that on anyone else would be unattractive.

“Aww, love you too, Zee,” John says faux offended falling back against his chair. He knew it was an absurd suggestion the moment he said it.

“I’m sorry, you know I love you,” she says holding up a hand attempting to hide her laughter. “It’s just look at us, we’re coming up on our first and only three-year anniversary. We’re not exactly known for being good at this.”

It’s a valid point. Despite the fact they have technically been together for over a decade they’ve gone through their fair share of ups and downs, break ups and make ups and even a few trips to hell and literal deaths. John has screwed up more times than he can count and even Zatanna has bungled it once or twice. Complicated has at almost all times been their relationship status, but the past three years, ever since John got his head out of his ass and finally decided to sort out this one particular aspect of his life they’ve been good, solid.

“Okay, true, but you’re stuck with me and we can’t act like there aren’t benefits to the whole marriage sham,” he says stretching his arms behind his head.

“It’s extremely comforting you called it a sham,” Zatanna says giving him a fondly exasperated look. “But you know maybe you’re right the tax incentives alone are a real benefit.”

“Now, the tax incentives would be appealing if I had ever in my life filed my taxes,” John says with a laugh.

“You’ve never filed taxes?” Zatanna says with a slightly startled look.

John just shrugs tossing back the remainder of his champagne. “It’s not like I’ve ever had any real upstanding type of job that would require me to fill out a W4 or whatever.”

“It’s a W2,” Zatanna corrects. “And John you live with me, our landlord made me put your name on the lease because he saw you there so much. You could totally get caught.”

“Eh, it’ll be fine,” John says with an unconcerned wave of his hand. “The fact that I’m not technically a citizen of this country is probably a bigger issue than the tax thing anyway.”

“John!” Zatanna exclaims with a laugh.

“What? You can’t have thought I actually went to a baseball park and held my hands up and did the national anthem or whatever,” he says kicking his feet up on the empty chair next to him.

“Clearly you haven’t considering that’s not at all how citizenship works,” Zatanna chuckles. “But hey there’s a potential benefit of marriage for us, citizenship.”

“Ah the romance of marrying not for love, but so the government pricks don’t send your ass packing,” John reaches out a hand tangling his fingers with Zatanna’s on the table his thumb running small circles into her hand.

Zatanna hums. “I guess lack of romance aside it wouldn’t matter since I can always just portal you back into the country on a whim anyways.”

John nods in agreement trying to come up with another benefit they might be able to actually take advantage of. “You couldn’t testify against me in court, that could be incredibly useful down the line.”

Zatanna raises one jeweled eyebrow, “Is there a crime you’ve committed lately you’ve neglected to tell me about?”

John thinks for a moment genuinely scanning his memories in case there is something he forgot to tell her about. “No,” he settles on confidently. He’s pretty sure at least. “I’m just thinking in general considering my track record in the past.”

Zatanna pats the top of his hand with a smile. “As if any prison could hold you long enough for me to even be asked a single question.”

John just laughs again, “Alright so maybe there aren’t that many marital benefits for us to take advantage of then.”

“No parents to satisfy,” Zatanna sighs. “And of course making medical decisions for one another doesn’t really matter when you use magic and superhero doctors that definitely don’t accept any sort of co-pay,” she adds on with a contemplative bite of her lip.

“Half your friends hate me,” John says thoughtfully with a chuckle.

“And half your friends are dead,” Zatanna says ruefully tapping a nail to her chin. “The wedding party would be abysmally uneven.”

“I haven’t bought a new tie in years,” John says tugging at the red thing around his neck. He looks hilariously basic compared to Zatanna’s ensemble essentially wearing what he wears any given day of the week the only difference being Zatanna had forced him into a subtly lace patterned black jacket for a change and repainted his chipped nails for the first time in two weeks. “It’d make the pictures look horribly out of place.”

“Plus let’s be real I’m a show woman, I’d probably hate having to share the spotlight with you for one day,” Zatanna smiles teasingly. John smiles back shifting so that he’s scooting his chair closer to hers. He lifts a hand to her face twisting a long dark hair that’s slipped from her twisty updo held in place by two sharp silver hair pins with crescent moons at the end to match her nails and tucking it back behind her ear.

“So, basically there’s not a benefit in this world or a thing that would change if we got married,” John says letting the silky hair go.

“The only thing I can think of is that I like shiny jewelry and you look hot when you wear silver rings,” Zatanna says reaching back and pulling the two pins from her hair letting it all fall across her shoulders, the one stand out streak of navy blue appearing as it falls.

“And we can buy each other jewelry anytime without a reason,” he says brushing the bit of hair that’s fallen into her eyes away.

Zatanna smiles at him once before standing holding out a hand that he instantly takes. She guides him to the dance floor twining her fingers behind his head slowly.

They sway slowly to some sappy love song John vaguely recognizes their eyes locked on one another.

“You know,” she says after a while her fingers pulling through the hair that’s getting a bit too long at the base of his neck. “Just because I don’t want to get married doesn’t mean I don’t want you for as long as I can have you, right?”

He does know that. It’s inexplicable to him why someone as bright and vibrant and good as her wants him, but she does and he intends to keep it that way till the demons or the cigarettes kill him.

“I know. I’m happy how we are, knowing us, and by us I mean me, marriage would end up mucking everything up anyways,” he says pulling her in closer his hands moving from their grip on her waist to the exposed small of her back. “We can just keep going to everyone else’s weddings and raiding their open bars.”

Zatanna laughs then leans up kissing him once soft and slow not even smudging her lipstick in the slightest. She stays close when she pulls back resting her head on his chest as they continue to sway.

“We really need to get your name off of my lease though, I don’t need the government showing up and trying to audit me,” she says softly. “I’d be a nightmare for Mistress of Magic brand.”

John laughs loud and bright leaning his head down to kiss her once atop the head already planning a minor break in to the landlord’s apartment. It’ll be okay if he gets caught, married or not he knows she won’t testify against him.