#anyways i had far too much trouble deciding whether or not to put glasses and how to make them look semi-okay

[darth-does-stuff]

oh how i missed he

[imagineaworld]

mr & mrs smith | b.b

in which bucky and y/n go undercover

pairing: bucky barnes x reader, platonic/romantic undertones

word count: 2k

warnings: none

undercover missions were usually fun. coming up with a character and a backstory was something y/n enjoyed doing the night before the mission. this time, however, her character and story were already decided.

“you two,” tony stuck his head around the corner of the door into the common room and beckoned with his finger. “come with me.”

y/n shared a confused glance with bucky from across the room. they had both been sat on opposite sides of the common room, bucky reclined on an armchair, head in a book, and y/n sat in the windowsill, her head also buried in a book. 

shrugging, y/n headed after tony, bucky following suit, wondering whether they were in trouble or not. when they got to tony’s office, bucky took a seat next to y/n, bouncing his leg up and down unconsciously.

y/n put a hand on his leg. “it’s alright,” she said, flashing a reassuring smile.

bucky smiled back, awkwardly patting y/n’s hand as it rested on his leg. he never knew how to respond to physical affection.

“alright you two,” tony chucked a file across the desk to them. y/n took her hand off bucky’s leg to read through it. “got an undercover mission for you. this time, i decided your aliases.”

“what?” y/n complained. “that’s no fun.”

“quite the opposite,” tony said. “you two are in the honeymoon suite.

bucky choked in surprise. y/n’s jaw dropped.

the two weren’t the best of friends, but they weren’t enemies either. y/n was always kind to bucky, and very physical in her affection. on multiple occasions, when going to bed, she would hug everyone good night, including bucky if he was in the room. bucky tried not to think of it personally, she did it with everyone of course. but sometimes it was the only physical affection he got for days. 

“you couldn’t have picked someone more compatible? like bruce and nat?” y/n suggested.

“vision and wanda?” bucky chimed in. the thought of going on a mission with y/n made him nervous, because she made him nervous.

tony shook his head. “has to be you two. this mission requires a particular skill set. you spend the night in the honeymoon suite, plant some bugs, secret cameras, y’know?”

“why?” y/n asked.

“after you two check out, a prominent member of a terrorist organisation will check in with his equally prominent new wife. see what information you can get, hm?”

-

y/n chucked her suitcase into the trunk of the loan car. “i’m driving,” she announced.

“why you?” bucky asked, leaning against the car, dressed in dark jeans, a plain t-shirt and a zip-up hoodie to cover the majority of his metal arm.

“you’re an old man. plus you don’t have an actual licence.”

bucky protested as y/n climbed into the driver’s seat, starting the engine. grumbling to himself, he got into the passenger seat. “here you go,” he said, handing her a gold ring. “goes on your left hand.”

“yeah, i know,” y/n muttered, slipping the ring on her finger. she held her hand out, admiring the wedding band. bucky put his hand next to hers, wearing a matching band. “i always thought if i was marrying a hundred-year-old man, he’d be my sugar daddy.”

“i can buy you a coffee at starbucks,” bucky offered.

y/n chuckled. “you know what? i’ll take it.”

bucky watched y/n from the passenger side as she drove. the pair drove for an hour until they passed the nearest starbucks, where bucky bought them both a latte and a pastry for the rest of the journey. another half an hour and they arrived at the grand hotel tony had booked for them. 

they each grabbed their suitcase from the trunk. “okay, metal man,” y/n murmured. “keep your left arm hidden behind my back.”

“no shit, captain obvious.” y/n elbowed him in the side. “yeah, that’s exactly how a newlywed couple would act,” he said sarcastically. 

“okay, newlyweds starting now.”

the two walked into the hotel, suitcases in tow. bucky’s metal hand was on the small of y/n’s back, hidden from the view of the receptionist as the two of them checked in. for him, it felt strange to be touching her like that, but y/n showed no signs of even acknowledging it.

“hi,” y/n greeted sweetly, in a voice bucky had never heard before. “we’ve booked the honeymoon suite.”

the receptionist typed something into the computer. “mr and mrs smith?” she asked. bucky and y/n nodded, fake smiles plastered on their faces. “third floor, let me just get your room key,” she headed into the backroom.

“mr and mrs smith?” bucky whispered.

y/n rolled her eyes. “must have been tony’s idea of a joke,” she whispered back.

“i don’t get it.”

“never mind.”

the receptionist had returned, handing y/n a room key. “enjoy your stay,” she smiled.

“thank you,” bucky and y/n said at the same time, heading up to their room.

-

inside the honeymoon suite was beautiful. there was an expensive-looking chandelier in the middle of the ceiling, gorgeous floral wallpaper adorning the walls. on the walls also hung beautiful paintings and embellished mirrors. at the back of the room, there was a huge, decorated bed. just one.

“there’s only one bed,” bucky pointed out.

of course, there was only one bed, it’s the honeymoon suite. bucky hadn’t thought of this. 

y/n abandoned her suitcase and flopped down on the massive bed. “it’s a movie.”

“what’s a movie?” bucky asked as he sat awkwardly on the edge of the bed beside y/n.

“mr and mrs smith,” she explained. “angelina jolie and brad pitt play a husband and wife who are both assassins, but neither knows about the other because they work for different agencies. until they get assigned to kill each other.”

bucky chuckled. “sounds good, actually.”

in the golden light reflecting off the ornately carved, brushed-gold headboard, y/n looked ethereal. bucky took in her exquisite facial structure, the way her hair splayed across the pillow where she had laid, how her eyelashes fluttered against her cheeks as she closed her eyes.

“about the bed situation,” y/n said, snapping bucky back to reality as she opened her eyes to look at him. “you mind sharing? it’s pretty big and i don’t take up much space.”

bucky just shrugged, not really sure what to say.

“it’s okay if you don’t want to, you can tell me,” y/n reassured.

“no, it’s fine, honestly,” bucky replied, not entirely convincingly.

y/n got up from the bed, picked up her suitcase and opened it on the bed. she rummaged around underneath a bunch of microphones and cameras to pull out a bikini. looks like we’re filming a porno, bucky heard her mumble under her breath.

“i’m heading to the pool, wanna come?” y/n asked, disappearing into the bathroom, leaving the door slightly ajar.

bucky tapped his metal arm. “can’t.” 

when y/n came out of the bathroom, she had on a simple black bikini. she threw on an oversized shirt, grabbed her towel and her book. “alright, i won’t be too long,” she said, heading out the door.

-

happy to have some time to himself, bucky made his way out onto the balcony, taking a seat in a sun-lounger and started reading his book. it took him a while to get the image of y/n in her bikini out of his head, but eventually, he managed to focus on his book. in the midday heat, he slipped his t-shirt off over his head, shirtless in the sun.

he had been so lost in his book that he hadn’t heard y/n come back, or realised how much time had passed.

“whatcha reading?” y/n asked, surprising bucky. she was sat on the sun-lounger on the other side of the balcony, her shirt also discarded on the floor like buckys.

“i didn’t hear you come in,” bucky murmured.

“that’s the point,” y/n shrugged, opening up her book.

“to kill a mockingbird,” bucky answered her question. “saw it on a list of ‘ten books everyone should read’. have you read it?”

“yeah,” y/n used her hand to shield her eyes from the sun as she looked at bucky. “i really liked it. you enjoying it?”

“so far,” he said.

y/n diverted her attention back to her book, but bucky found it difficult to do the same. y/n’s body was exposed, leaving little to the imagination. bucky wasn’t yet used to the new way women dressed nowadays. he most certainly wasn’t complaining though. her hair was damp, slicked back and trickling droplets across her bronzed skin. her face was makeup-free, glowing in the sunlight. her long legs...

“what?” y/n asked, noticing bucky staring at her.

his cheeks flushed as he mumbled, “nothing.”

“i can cover up if it makes you more comfortable?” she offered, not unkindly.

“no, it’s fine,” he spoke louder now. “i think it’s great that women can wear whatever they want now.”

“you sure?” she checked.

bucky cleared his throat, closing his book. “yeah. i’m gonna take a cool shower now anyway, too hot.”

he headed inside, leaving y/n in her bikini on the balcony. 

-

by late evening, y/n and bucky had ordered room service for dinner and were now sat opposite each other on the humungous ornate couches. between them was a glass coffee table, holding two glasses of red wine. bucky was already on his second glass.

"so," y/n said, making conversation. "you think nat and bruce will ever make it official?"

bucky looked confused. "is it not already official?"

y/n shook her head. "nat talks my ear off about it, how she's not sure if she should make the first move or wait for him to." 

y/n wore a pink silk pyjama shirt and matching shorts, exposing her long legs, which she crossed in front of her as she sat. she took a large gulp of wine and carefully topped up her glass. bucky wore dark sweatpants and a dark t-shirt.

“why don’t you have a boyfriend?” he asked, the wine giving him an edge.

y/n looked slightly amused. “what?” 

“why don’t you have a boyfriend? or girlfriend?” he added.

“i guess i haven’t found the right person,” y/n shrugged.

he contemplated this for a moment. “so, are you...” bucky cut himself off. “never mind. none of my business.”

y/n knew exactly what he was going to ask. “a virgin? no, i’m not. you?”

“no.”

“i didn’t think so,” y/n said with a smile.

bucky frowned. “what’s that supposed to mean?”

“well, have you looked in the mirror? you’re not exactly ugly,” she said with a laugh.

bucky wasn't sure how to interpret that. he wasn't used to compliments, nor was he used to speaking so openly about sex. did that mean y/n thought he was good-looking? perhaps he hadn't been mistaken all those times he thought y/n hugged him just a bit longer than everyone else.

he didn't say anything, just poured himself some more wine. 

"why don't you have a girlfriend? or boyfriend?" y/n threw bucky's question back to him.

bucky thought for a while. he hadn't really thought about having a relationship. he didn't think anyone would want to be with someone with as much baggage as he has. but he didn't want to share that with y/n. "haven't exactly figured out this modern dating," he said, taking a sip of wine. "don't like the idea of going on a date with someone i haven't even met." 

"i tried it once," y/n confided. "nat dared me, a few weeks ago. didn't go very well." 

bucky raised his eyebrows. "why not?"

"men are pigs," y/n shrugged, not wanting to go into much more detail.

perhaps she wasn't interested in bucky then like he had thought for a second there. ask now, he thought, while its the topic of conversation.

"there's got to be someone you like though?" he asked.

he watched her shoulders rise and fall as she sighed, contemplating. "it's not a priority for me, i guess. if i find someone, cool. but i'm not looking. i think love just happens sometimes, you can't always look for it."

"i'm sorry your date didn't go well," bucky spoke lowly. "anyone would be lucky to have you."

y/n chuckled. "you think?"

"i do."

"you're real sweet, you know that?" y/n smiled softly at bucky. "anyone would be lucky to have you, too.”

[harrywritingsbyme]

A Show

Based Off Of This Ask

And This One

This One Too

A/N: I can’t get enough of these Subby wife!Y/n concepts!! I also love love love a good camgirl!Y/n and camboy!Harry read...so I combined the two! This one is hot as fuck...enjoy🙃

3.9k words

When it came to you and Harry, the two of you were always putting on a show. From the outside looking in, the two of you looked like a young and happily married couple. And without a doubt you two were just that. Neither of you could stand being away from one another for long periods of time and the both of you could just burst at the seams with how much love you two had. It’s just that you guys’ relationship had a couple more layers that weren’t exactly obvious to the people around you two and would definitely raise eyebrows if they were. 

For starters, you and Harry were in a bit of a dom/sub relationship aside from your “foundation relationship” so to speak. As your relationship together blossomed, you and Harry ventured out into trying things that you’d never even considered doing in the past. After expressing your desire to give being a submissive a try, you and Harry tried it and never looked back. Of course you two weren’t in this space 24/7 and you liked to switch it up from time to time. But for the most part, you were perfectly fine with being subby with Harry as your Dominant. Sure when you two were out and about, you both exhibited some of those dom/sub tendencies, but it was nothing like how you both were at home. If you were feeling small, you were always in his lap or on your knees beside his legs, constantly begging for touches, cuddles, kisses, and his cock. And depending on how good of a little girl you’d been, Harry never minded to give you all of those things whenever you wanted. But if you weren’t a good little girl, he’d either take you over his knee and spank you, making you count out each one, or he’d decide against giving you his cock, no cockwarming and no sex. Also when at home, you’d always be in either a pretty little set of lingerie, or a cute little outfit that you’d picked out. Either way, Harry had complete and easy access to your body at all times. From the onset of you guys’ relationship as a whole, you gave Harry permission to take you anywhere and anytime he wanted. So if you were standing at the kitchen counter, Harry could simply come up behind you, pull your panties to the side(if you were even wearing any) and push his cock into you. And of course, if you weren’t feeling it, you’d simply use the safe word and he’d stop immediately. For you and Harry, this was heaven. And neither of you could get enough of it.

Another thing that wasn’t in the forefront when it came to you and Harry was you guys’ mutual exhibitionism. It was something about the risk that captivated you two and made you want to keep going and up the ante a bit. Now you and Harry are very good at not getting caught. The two of you are pros at keeping your little sexscapades under the radar, proceed to go about your business afterwards as if nothing happened, and have everyone around you think that as well. But whenever there was an opportunity to feed into that exhibitionism, you two always did. For example, last summer Harry planned an amazing trip to Italy for the two of you. He managed to secure a suite on one of the higher floors that was absolutely amazing on the inside, with an even more amazing view. The room had a balcony facing the water and you both took advantage of it all week long. Not only did you two cuddle up in your bathrobes in the morning when you guys ate breakfast or after a night out of taking in the city, you and Harry also had some very loud and intense rounds in that balcony. He’d be giving it to you so good out there. And as he slammed himself into you, he’d constantly whisper into your ear to scream and let the people down below know how good he was making you feel. When you two were at home, he’d make sure to make you moan and scream as loud as possible while telling you that he wanted the whole neighborhood to know what he does to you and how good me makes you feel. When doing movie nights with friends, you’d always cockwarm under the blankets. And if it couldn’t get any worse, Harry had one very large window in his office at work. This meant that whenever you popped in to pay him a visit, the number one, go to spot was right against the glass. Even though no one could really see what you two were doing, there was still a thrill that came from going at it against the window. There was also a thrill when it came to the possibility of someone knocking on the door. Even though getting caught would be horrifying and humiliating, whether it was from down below, or from beyond the office door, it was still a turn on for you both.

Now the third and final layer was a combination the dom/sub side of the relationship and your mutual exhibitionism. The two of you had a pretty sizable following on only fans. At first it was just you. But after things between you two got really serious and you told Harry what you were doing, you wanted him to join in on the fun. It was definitely a bit of a shock to him at first, but after mulling it over and listening to how much more jealous he’d be if he wasn’t included, Harry caved. And seeing how diligent you were about having a measure of privacy when it came to your identity was the icing on the cake. In the beginning of you guys’ “partnership”, Harry’d make an appearance every once in a while, the majority of the time popping in whenever you were live and watching you play with yourself or go on and on about how good daddy aka Harry, made you feel. This sort of pattern lasted all the way up until you guys moved in together. Once you two lived in the same space, Harry was a regular on there with you and he even had some times to himself. This platform that you once had to yourself grew and was even better than before. All of your numbers increased across the board and you both were very happy about that. Harry tended to be more happy about it out of the two of you though; he’d constantly tell you that they come to so see him and to see him rail you with a smug smile plastered across his face as he says it. And to be honest, he was kind of right. Your numbers were good before but they skyrocketed once he came into the picture and the most popular content was the content with the both of you in it. Now even though you two were enjoying yourselves, there was still a balance between public and private times. The both of you loved showcasing your amazing sex life and continuously feeding off of your mutual exhibitionism, but you and Harry also loved ditching the camera and the fans and just being alone together in that space as well. The sex was always mind-blowing, but it was taken to another level when it was intimate. The volume of intimate moments always outweighs the public ones and you two liked to keep it that way. The two of you went as far as to make a little schedule for what content you guys wanted to put out and when. And for the most part, you and Harry stuck to it.

Except for today though. 

You were being a brat for the majority of the day. From the moment Harry sat down in his chair at work, your little messages game began. The first one was a simple one telling him that you were missing him already, which he thought was absolutely adorable and made him want to go back home and spend the day with you. After replying with a sweet message, he was able to go 3 hours without receiving any messages from you. In that 3 hour time period, you got some extra sleep and you got some things done around the house that needed to get done. And once you got all of that taken care of, you were on fire and you were riling Harry up. As you were doing a bit of self care you were sending Harry photo after photo, and explicit message after explicit message.  He couldn’t get you to stop and he couldn’t stop himself from hardening in his pants. Every picture, message, or even the occasional short little video was more explicit than the last if that was even possible. You were going on and on about how couldn’t wait until he got home and that you needed daddy inside of you. It was so much that Harry couldn’t even leave out to get lunch. He was so hard that he locked himself inside of his office for lunch and took his cock out of his pants to let go of some of that mounting pressure. And even with that, it still wasn’t enough. As if things couldn’t get any worse for Harry, he was so close to finally getting off and coming right home to take care of the situation with you. Where was the problem? The time was moving incredibly slow as the day wound down and the workday came to an end. 

Meanwhile, your little teasing session went on all the way up until a little after five o’clock. You sent your final tease to him when the time hit 5 before going into the room that you two had set up specifically for filming. You got the computer all ready, and your new toy from the box. The schedule said that today was your day to do a live performance of you playing with yourself. So you picked out a cute set of lingerie from your collection and put it on before making  your way over and onto the bed in front of the camera. You then do a little test in the camera beforehand to see if everything looks good before starting your live stream. And in an instant you were flooded with viewers. Before just jumping right in, you have a little banter with your audience. You tell them in detail about how you’d been a bad girl for daddy today and that you were waiting for him to come home and deal with you.  As you do this, you’re toying with your panties and playing with your breasts that were confined to the lacy bra you had on. You then go on to tell them that you were going to play with yourself anyway and just hope that you weren’t going to get into too much trouble, even though you knew for a fact that Harry was going to punish you for what you did to him today. In no time, your panties and bra are off and your legs are spread to expose the sticky area between your legs. 

“Do you guys like this new dildo my daddy got me? It’s not as big as him but it’ll have to do.” You say happily, bringing the toy down to rub it against your plushy and very sticky cunt. You begin to tease yourself, pushing it up and down your folds and right against your entrance. Before pushing it into your entrance, your bring the toy up to your mouth to slobber all over it and make sure it was nice and ready. You then start to slowly push it inside, and as you do, your moans get louder from the way you were being filled up with the toy. It was nowhere near Harry, but it definitely felt good.

Now while you were on camera fucking yourself with the dildo, Harry was trying to get home. All of your teasing caused him to slip into his dominant space and he planned on really giving it to you and making sure that you knew how brats were dealt with. He was filled with anticipation and excitement to get home and right into you. Harry tried his best to avoid any traffic so that he could get home as fast as possible. Luckily for him, he managed to avoid a good amount of traffic and get home in less than an hour. He practically throws himself out of the car and into the house where he shrugs his coat off and charges upstairs to you. When he makes it up the stairs, he can already hear your moans echoing from down the hall. He pretty much sprints down the hallway towards the noise, his movement coming to a halt when he finds you spread out on the bed while pushing your toy in and out of your pretty little hole and moaning your little heart out. His mind just goes to giving it to you hard and without any type of mercy. You had the audacity to tease him all day long then play with yourself while you waited for him to come back home. He could see that you were filming but he could honestly care less, if you were going to be a brat, you were going to pay for it. Harry makes his way through the doorway and goes straight to the box that held some of you guys’ toys. Your actions immediately come to a halt when is steps enter the room.

“Daddy’s home!” You announce excitedly, keeping the toy inside of you and lifting yourself up into your claves. While you sit there anxiously waiting for him to come over, Harry picks out the shiny handcuffs that were inside the box. Without saying a single word, Harry completely undresses himself from behind the camera. Even though they couldn’t see him taking his clothes off, they could hear it and they were able to get a good idea of how good he looked from the way you were rocking back and forth on the toy below you. “Missed you so much t-“ You begin, being cut off mid sentence  with a hand around your throat. 

“How about you shut up?!” He snarls back to you, dropping the handcuffs onto the bed and turning your around into a new position before pushing you back against the bed. He then moves onto the bed, immediately straddling your body to keep you down. Since you were in a new position, Harry adjusts the camera a bit so that the audience could get a better view of you both. “It’s funny how you think that you can just do whatever you want and not get punished.” He chuckles down to you, pushing down on your throat one final time before releasing you. “Think that you putting on your little show is gonna stop me from teaching you a lesson and taking you however I want?” He asks rhetorically, as he picks up the handcuffs and brings his free hand to your wrists. He gathers them in one hand, bringing them above your head and securing them with the handcuffs. “If you wanna be a fucking slut and send me all types of obscene things while I’m at work and then get online and fuck yourself with a dildo, then I’m gonna treat you like a little whore. Understood?” Harry growls above you.

“Yes sir.” You whisper shakily. Your heart was racing and your body was tingly. Even though it was expect that he’d establish dominance over you and do whatever he wanted, everything was live. That meant that everyone was watching as you got punished. 

“Now as your first punishment, m’gonna make you gag on my cock.” Harry says, bringing himself further up your body so that his cock was even closer to your face. He then wraps his hand around his girthy shaft and lifts his cock a bit to tap at your lips. Once they open, your mouth is immediately filled with his cock. Harry pushes in and lifts himself a bit so that you’re taking all of him all at once. He wanted to be in your mouth and in your throat. “Look so cute with a mouth full of cock little girl.” He admires through a moan, finally feeling the pleasure he was in need of all day long. After calming down a bit, Harry begins to move himself in and out of your mouth, each time pushing down on your face a little harder and keeping a hand pressed down onto your wrists. The sounds of your little whimpers and gags were euphoric for Harry. He liked knowing that you were stuggling a bit and he wanted the audience to know that you could take anything he gave you. As he continued to thrust into your face, your messages were being flooded with people telling him how he was lucky to have such a pretty set of holes and how good of a girl you are for taking his big cock down your little throat. “Fuck! Such a good little hole f’me.” He sighs, pushing back down into your mouth and grinding his hips down into your face. After a couple more thrusts into your mouth, making them a bit harder than the ones before, Harry decides to pull out of your mouth so that he can push into the hole he was most excited about. Since you were lying on the bed, Harry made sure that the camera was positioned in a way that only showed the lower half of your face. This meant that the viewers could see him pull his slobbery cock from your wet mouth and him on top of you. “Look so pretty babydoll.” He admires, taking in your tearstained cheeks and glistening mouth. “Gonna make you nice and filthy once I’m done with you.” Harry promises, gripping onto his shaft to give your cheek a little tap. He then lifts his body off of you and makes his way down between your legs. 

“Need you daddy.” You whine, squirming against the bed as he kneels between your legs and stares at your filled pussy. 

“Aww, does my pretty little slut of a wife want her pussy fucked?” He patronizes, swiftly pulling the toy out of your cunt. 

“Yes daddy! S’achey down there.” You cry out to him, feeling yourself slipping into your subspace.

“Should stick it in your ass and fuck you like a real whore?” Harry suggests with a cynical chuckle, ignoring your cry out to him and bringing the dildo down to tap it back and forth against your puffy cheeks.

“Please daddy!” You beg, turning your head to the side to take the toy into your mouth.

“And suddenly, my desire to push this into your ass is gone.” He promptly states, dropping the dildo next to you and pushing you body back a bit, moving your face completely out of view. He then pushes your legs back a bit more so that you’re spread even wider for him. “Now are you going to take your pounding like the good little slut I know you can be?” Harry asks, bringing his hand down to deliver a quick swat to your sensitive cunt. 

“Yes sir!” You promptly whined, needing to feel him inside already. And with that, Harry lines his cock up with your entrance and slams right into you. When he does this, your eyes roll to the back of your head and the biggest moan leaves your mouth. It felt so good to have his big cock inside of you. He was so big that you felt him in the pit of your tummy. You loved that. Now instead of giving you any time to adjust, Harry doesn’t stop; he goes straight into pounding into you. He couldn’t stop himself, your cunt just felt too good around his cock for him to stop ramming his cock in and out of you. Plus you were being punished which meant that you took whatever he gave. While Harry continued to fuck his cock into you, the audience was going wild. You two were getting an insane amount of tips and messages encouraging Harry to keep on fucking you and to go even harder, and messages for you saying how cute your pitiful moans sounded as you took his cock into your stomach. Harry was making you feel so good right now, his cock was going so deep inside and he was just slamming into you over and over again. You were on cloud nine.

“Y’look like a proper slut now.” Harry hums through a string of pants, taking in your appearance below him and bringing his hand back up to your throat that in turn silences your once loud moans. “Tearstained cheeks, drool coming out of that mouth, a hand around your throat, and m’cock in this delicious cunt of yours.” He points out, beginning to change the pace of his thrusts to more of a one at a time type of pace. He was still delivering those deep and hard blows, they were just a bit slower. As he continues on, Harry shifts his weight onto the hand that was around your throat and brings his now free hand up to the side of your face. Keeping his eyes locked in on yours, he gives you a soft squeeze before drawing his hand back a little to give you a nice slap. It wasn’t extremely hard, but it wasn’t weak either. It was enough to be for pissing him off. As he feels his release getting closer and closer, Harry does a couple more things to make you a bit filthier. He gathers some of his saliva in his mouth and he spits down into yours. From your eyes alone he could tell that you wanted to sallow, but you couldn’t since he had a tight grip on your throat. He then proceeds to do this twice more, aiming for your breasts that he’d neglected this go around. “Fuck m’gonna cum!” Harry grunts, feeling the warm and bubbling sensation mounting in his lower stomach. And before he could even comprehend how amazing he felt, Harry was erupting inside of you. The audience could hear his moans as he came inside of you. Meanwhile, you were on the brink of your release, but given the fact that you were being punished, you weren’t cumming any time soon. You hadn’t cum yet you could feel a tiny bit of a soreness forming in your lower half. As Harry pumped his cum into you, the messages just cheered him on to fill you up with his seed. Once he’s all done, Harry pulls his cock out of you, allowing all of his cum to pour out of you. He then releases your throat, causing you to break into a fit of pants as you try to catch your breath. “Came a lot in there.” He observes, tapping his fingers on your lower stomach before scooping up the cum that was dripping out of you and bringing it to your pebbled nipples. 

“Now were gonna sign off now, but don’t worry, we’ll record the rest.” Harry hums darkly before ending the live stream. 

You were going to be in for a very long, punishment filled night. There was no doubt in your mind that he’d be ruining you tonight. 

Masterlist

[juletheghoul]

Domum (Part 2)

I am dedicating this to you @221bshrlocked, I really hope you enjoy this second instalment of Vamp Boyfriend Max and please know that whenever I return to this world, I'm thinking of you.

There will be a part three.

Max Phillips x F!Reader

Pairing: Max x F!Reader

Word Count: 5.5K

Warnings: **TRIGGER WARNING** Max is a vampire so there will be blood talk, some of it sexual in nature, implied violence (nothing super graphic), language, Smut 18+, PIV sex (wrap it up), slight dirty talk, Oral-female receiving, supernatural themes, descriptions of gore

Reblogs are appreciated

Masterlist Part 1

---------

“And just when did you forsake me hm?” You stared at Ambrose, curled up and purring loudly against Max's chest on your bed. He seemed to choose Max over you half the time and you couldn’t help but be a little jealous. He stared at you with his eyes half closed, blinking slowly and you sighed at the image of your two favourite boys in your bed.

“Fine, let Max feed you then.” You were only half kidding.

“Jealousy doesn’t become you, my love.” His eyes were closed but he smiled, imagining the look on your face.

“You shush, you’re only smug because he favours you.” He laughed at your tone and made a show of kissing Ambrose on his little face and you rolled your eyes. He set him down onto the floor - against Ambrose's wishes- and pulled you into bed. “I have to go to the market-” he cut you off with a kiss. It was so hard to push him away when he kissed you like that. When his hands held your face so tenderly.

“I would like for you to stay, stay in bed with me.” he kissed your neck and you felt the ghost of his fangs caressing your pulse point. Always letting you give consent before piercing your skin. You shivered slightly but you couldn’t give in. Giving in always meant you weren’t getting anything done. It took a great deal of self control to slip out of his grip and you quickly pulled away, leaving him in order to gather the clothing you had mended.

“If I let you carry on I'll waste the day.” you scolded him without any real anger.

“Waste? You call what we do a waste?” he laid on his back, arm over his eyes in mock distress. You could see the little smile at the corner of his mouth.

“You know full well what I meant - I need to bring these things to the market or Mrs. Johnson will have my head. I will be back soon, and then we can do whatever you want.” He perked up at the last bit, like you knew he would.

“Anything…?” He had pure mischief in his eyes and you blushed slightly at the implication.

“Yes - within reason I don’t think I need to clarify.” You approached the bed and he hastily got up to sit at the edge, making space for you between his legs. You stood and stared down at him - he looked up at you like you were the very air he breathed and you wondered for a brief moment how you could be so lucky.

“I’ll be waiting for you my love, like always.” he spoke with pure devotion as he hugged you around the middle. You ran your fingers lovingly through his hair- pulling it back lightly to kiss him on the mouth.

“You better.” You smiled at him, then made your way out.

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

You made it to the market quickly and found Mrs Johnson stomping her foot impatiently and you braced yourself for an onslaught but she cheered up when she caught sight of you. She was one of the nicer villagers and you had a good relationship with her.

“There you are, girl - I was beginning to worry. Let me see.” She took the garments you had carefully folded up out of your arms and inspected your work. A frown of concentration on her face as she inspected a big tear you had mended. “Perfect - as I knew it would be. Thank you sweetling, here - for your trouble.” she handed you a small purse of coins and you took it thankfully.

“My thanks - I am always available for work.” You both said your goodbyes and you stopped to stock up on more thread. You needed new needles as well and you were perusing for more materials when you heard someone calling you. It was the young girl you’d helped almost a year ago, you had learned her name was Sarah and since then she had taken a shine to you. Treating you like an older sister and you regarded her in much the same manner. The little sister you never had.

“What is all the commotion?” You raised your eyebrows at her, she was breathless with excitement.

“I knew you hadn’t heard! There are new people in the village! They came in last night!” The smile on her face was half wild with excitement, times like this you realized how young she was and it always endeared her to you.

“Okay Sarah, take a deep breath and tell me.” You half laughed as you paid for your things and walked through town with her. She was bouncing on the balls of her feet as she grabbed your arm excitedly, telling you about the band of thespians, entertainers traveling the country; putting on shows and plays. “Singers and bards travel through here from time to time-“ she cut you off.

“Yes but never this many! Seems to be a large company - they’ll finally put that playhouse to use. Isn’t it exciting?” She smiled brightly at you but you had a bad feeling. It wasn’t the same as when Max came into town, this was stronger and it left a bad taste in your mouth. “Look! That’s them!” She whispered excitedly into your ear.

There was a group of men making their way into the big tavern in town and it felt like someone had dumped ice water down the back of your dress. There was something wrong.

Max was there in an instant, Sarah didn’t notice him until he spoke.

“Good morning Sarah.” He spoke with a neutral tone but you knew that he was anything but relaxed. He usually stayed inside during the day and his body language gave him away, to you at least.

“Hello Max! Did you hear?” You rolled your eyes, knowing she would explain the whole thing over again. He had a smile on his face as she spoke but it wasn’t filled with the warmth you had become accustomed to.

This was a mask.

“Newcomers, that’s interesting.” You could see him scanning the outside of the tavern with a critical eye. He sensed whatever you had sensed, and he sensed it all the way from the cottage.

When Sarah left he spoke in hushed tones, you had never seen him like this.

“There is something here. Something hungry.” To everyone who passed by you were a courting couple taking a stroll through the village square but he was unsettled.

“I felt it too, made my hair stand on end.” You pressed yourself up against him, there was a sudden chill in the air and you weren’t exactly sure whether it was his words or the temperature.

“I don’t like this, it seems familiar but I can’t quite place it. I need to find out what it is and either destroy it or get it out of town. I don’t want anyone getting hurt.” You smiled to yourself, remembering his attitude towards the town when he first arrived. Things had changed for you since then, for the most part anyway.

There were still villagers who thought you were the devil incarnate but most of them had embraced you. Sarah had advocated for you and with her being the daughter of prominent members of your community, others had followed. You had a steady stream of customers who came to you as a seamstress, and an even bigger one for your other talents.

The townspeople were wary of Max, everyone except Sarah - she treated him as an extension of you; and she loved you.

He had embraced the villagers, promising you that he would protect this place. That he would protect anything you loved. You both spoke about it as you made your way home and you decided that you would go into town that night to investigate. Go to the tavern and get a drink to see if either of you could find out just what exactly had blown into town.

-

The tavern was unusually full, it seemed everyone wanted to be out amongst the newcomers. You smiled at Jasper, the old barkeep, you had helped his wife with pain in her legs a few months ago. He always had a smile for you now.

“I will find us a table, Jasper favours you.” Max whispered in your ear and you laughed. You asked the grizzled old man for a glass of wine and some cider, he didn’t let you pay.

The two of you sat in a dark little corner of the tavern, keeping an eye on everyone and chatting idly, Max drinking his wine and you nursing your cider. The two of you waited a couple of hours but it was for naught. Nothing happened - although it was pleasant to be out with him, neither of you sensed anything dangerous. Chalking it up to a loss, you made your way home.

The night was pleasant and you walked leisurely through the woods towards the cottage, the two of you arm in arm - enjoying the clear night sky. You were looking at the moon, seeing it’s position - full moon in a few days you thought to yourself when Max pulled you off the path suddenly. You shrieked in surprise but you quickly recovered when he pushed you up against a large tree. You weren't too far off the path, someone walking by would have to know you were there in order to see you.

“And just what do you think you’re doing?” You spoke in mock outrage, he laughed into your skin. He had you caged against the trunk; his face was buried in your neck and he was kissing every inch he could reach.

“I think you know, I believe you told me we could do whatever I wanted this morning.” He lifted your leg, hoisting it high on his hip as he ground into you. You let out a sigh at the feel of him, hard enough to feel through his trousers at your core. The bark of the tree was scratching at the back of your neck, the little bit of pain adding to the pleasure.

“I think I want to hear you say it.” Your voice was breathy, your fingers running through his hair, you guided his face towards yours, you wanted to kiss him. You wanted his tongue in your mouth and his hands on your body. You wanted him closer, always closer. He smiled into the kiss.

“I want to fuck you against this tree my love. I want to feed from you while you cum, I want to taste your pleasure, I want to love you. Will you let me love you?” He watched your mouth as he spoke, his words exciting you so much you ached. So much that you moaned and felt your sex dripping for him. Your heart was pounding, even your blood wanted him.

“Yes, always…” You breathed it out but he swallowed your words. He reached between you to pull your skirts up past your hips, he became impatient with all the fabric and when he reached your undergarments he ripped them roughly. The act excited you, causing another wave of slick to drip out of you and onto your thigh. He knelt in front of, looking up like he was in prayer.

He lifted your leg and draped it over his shoulder and he licked at your core hungrily. You felt his urgency, he sucked the bundle of nerves into his mouth with a passion that had you frantically clutching at his hair, it had you grinding into his mouth and it had you almost screaming. Your climax crashed over you like a tidal wave and he drank it down, refusing to pull away until you pushed him. He started undoing his trousers, pulling himself out as he stood.

His eyes were black with lust, as he roughly lifted you against the tree- wrapping both your legs around his hips; lifting you as if you weighed nothing.

“Undo your blouse for me sweet girl, I’m going to bite you where you like it.” he held you against the tree as you hastily undid your corset enough to pull your blouse down. You held tightly onto him as he reached down to guide himself into your wet heat. Both of you groaned when he was fully seated inside you.

It felt better every time. It was bliss, it was ecstasy.

You moaned as he drove into you, the scratching of the tree behind you sharpening the pleasure of his thrusts. You saw his fangs elongate and felt him getting frantic. He wouldn’t last long. You pushed his head down to your breast and he bit it rougher than usual, you could hear the sound of your joining and it was filthy, it was obscene out in the open like this but you didn’t care. The pleasure building with his bite and your blood in his mouth.

He licked your wound closed and moved to your other breast - you saw the brief anguished look of pleasure on his face as he bit your nipple. It hit you again. It was so intense you seized up almost painfully, screaming at the intensity of it. Your cunt clenched around him and he came with a growl.

He set you down, his grip softening, he was gentle again and he licked your wound closed. This was the roughest he’d ever been with you and you enjoyed it far more than you would have ever thought.

He was pulling your shirt back up and straightening your skirts as you caught your breath, he had a little frown on his face.

“What’s wrong?” You touched his face, bringing his attention to you.

“I’m afraid I got carried away, I’m sorry if I was too rough with you.” He looked chastened, he hissed when he saw the scratches on your shoulders and neck from the tree. You laughed lightly but he didn’t join in.

“Max, I thoroughly enjoyed that. I will heal. I can draw myself a special bath and I will be better in a few hours. Please, put it out of your mind my love.” You hugged him to you and he relented.

-

He was quiet as you made your way home and although he had dropped the subject, you knew he felt guilty. You appreciated the sentiment but you weren’t made of glass.

Once you got home, you had him fill the big kettle as you gathered a few things.

When he returned you had him pull the big tub into the middle of the room, he did so without comment. Once the water was hot enough, he helped you fill the tub and you put a few things into the water; dried herbs and flowers that would help relax you. He watched as you moved about, picking a little bit of this and a pinch of that.

The steam was lovely and it smelled like lavender and wildflowers. You stripped off your clothes and ordered him to do the same but he didn’t right away, you got into the tub and raised your eyebrows at him. He smiled and stripped, joining you in the warm water.

“Here, rub a little of this wherever the skin is irritated.” You handed him a little jar full of a thick oily paste. He obeyed and you felt his big warm hands massaging it into your skin. He was thorough and quiet as he did what you asked, the two of you enjoying the intimacy and the warmth.

He kissed your shoulder when he was done and you laid on his chest between his legs. He washed you gently as you relished his sturdy warmth behind you.

“Max, can I ask you something?” The question popped into your mind and you had to get it out.

“Yes my love?” He was washing your hair, massaging your scalp carefully as you relaxed.

“You told me once that you’ve only ever turned one person, what happened to them?” You asked it casually, you were curious and he never spoke about his past. You felt him tense for a moment before he continued with his actions.

“Do you really wish to know?” His voice sounded a little hesitant, you wanted to know, but only if he wanted to tell you.

“You don’t have to explain if you don’t want to, I was merely curious.” You meant it, whatever happened before either of you met- it didn’t matter. Not now that you had each other.

He carefully poured water on you, washing the soap out of your hair in silence, taking the utmost care to not get any of it in your eyes. You thought the conversation was done but he eventually spoke.

“I’ll tell you one day, not today - allow me to tell you in my own time.” He pressed his face into your neck, kissing your ear and shoulder, his actions soothing the hurt he imagined his response was causing. He was entitled to his silence. You turned to face him, looking up from where your face was pressed against his chest.

“You don’t have to explain, if it hurts too much or if it’s something you don’t like discussing. It’s okay for you to keep things to yourself.” You smiled at him, letting him know there was no double meaning, you meant every word. He pulled you up to kiss you and you felt his devotion to you, felt him saying what you meant to him without words.

You both sat in the bath quietly for a long time.

---

A couple of days went by and nothing, no hide nor hair of whatever the two of you had sensed. You were beginning to think that maybe you’d gotten lucky, something passing by near enough for the both of you to pick up on it but not actually staying.

You should be so lucky.

There had been talk in the market of a beast, a monster ripping through the Robertson farm just outside town. Killing a few of his sheep and almost all of his chickens. The carnage was said to be disturbing and the bad taste returned with a vengeance, rocks settling in your stomach. This is not good.

Once you got back home and explained what happened to Max he made it a point to go to the Robertson farm to see if he could get a sense of what it could be. It wasn’t long before he was back - frowning deeply.

“I cannot get a feel for it, it’s not another of my kind that’s for sure. This feels more primal, more violent. I need to get closer.” You could see his frustration, it was bothering him that he couldn’t fix it.

--

Later on that night, Max got his wish.

You were laying in bed, curled up in each other when something flickered across Max's face. He blurred out of bed with how fast he moved, stopping to hastily put his trousers on. You felt it before you could ask him what was wrong, Ambrose shot out of bed and bounded for the door. He was hissing loudly, his hackles raised higher than you’d ever seen.

“Stay there.” His voice was iron, no room for argument. He stalked over to the door and listened, you heard it all the way from the bed; something massive was outside your cottage. It pressed against the door lightly and you could hear the gouging of the wood, whatever it was - it had claws.

Your heart was in your throat as Ambrose hissed and snarled, you quietly got up to wrap your blanket around you. Max silently moved to your kitchen to look out the window. Ambrose stopped hissing and ran towards your bed.

“It’s gone.” He didn’t move from the window and you tentatively approached him, needing his warmth to reassure you. He instantly rubbed at your arms to calm you. “You’re safe my love, nothing will happen to you. Good news is, I think I figured out what we’re dealing with. It’s a werewolf.”

You knew there had to be other creatures in this world, you yourself were a witch and you were committed to a vampire but you were at a loss for words. You would have laughed, had he not had that look on his face.

“It came straight here, it must sense us in it’s altered state.” He was pacing the room, thinking hard as you sat silent at the table. Shivering even though you had the blanket wrapped around you. You were trying to think about everything you knew about werewolves, you knew there must be something about them in your mothers notes, where were they again? You got up and put on a shift before digging through the big trunk tucked into the corner of the room.

He came over when you yelled in triumph, pulling out your mothers big leatherbound notebook.

He was silently watching you as you flipped through the pages, looking for any insight and then you saw it - she had a whole page on them. Some of the points you already knew, that you needed pure silver to ward them off. They were vicious and their bite was a curse. When they were in their animal state, they were purely primal. They would tear apart their own mothers without a second thought. Aversion to silver & iron, wolfsbane - would make sense as to why it only gauged at the wood of your door. You had fortified your protection once more after Max had come in, leaving out anything that would stop him and him alone.

“Tonight was the last night of the full moon, we have a month to prepare. We have to find out who it is, and destroy them. They cannot be cured, I hope no one gets hurt tonight.” You spoke to him as you put the book on the table. He listened intently and the both of you came up with a plan to go into the market and get as close as you could to the newcomers.

“Hopefully they'll leave before the next full moon, we should be so lucky.” He spoke as he blew out the candles you’d lit, the both of you getting back into bed. You whispered your plans to each other, vowing to warn Sarah. You thought of little trinkets you could make, talismans of protection to the people closest to you. You hoped with everything in you that you wouldn’t wake up to bad news.

---

No such luck.

The two of you decided to head into town together the next day, and there were whispers of a great beast everywhere you went. Several people had seen a huge mass stalking around the woods, luckily no one had been hurt. You did notice a few of the more unfriendly villagers giving you hard glares and scowls as you made your way through, you felt Maxs grip tighten slightly at the open show of hostility.

“We’re trying to protect them.” he spoke as you tried to calm him, putting your hand on his chest. He took it and held it there as you walked through. You caught sight of Sarah and she rushed over to you.

“I wanted to warn you- a couple of townsfolk were saying that this has something to do with you. I said that there was absolutely no way - that you’re a good person but I didn’t like how they spoke.” She was visibly upset, imagining her defending you pulled at your heartstrings.

“Oh sweetling, thank you - we’ll be okay, they’re just scared.” You hugged her tightly, trying your best to reassure her. “I’ve made you something, I brought it with me in case I saw you, put this on and don’t take it off. I’ve made one for each of your parents - this should protect you. Please make sure you don’t go out after dark. Do you understand what I’m telling you?” You spoke to her as you handed her the talismans you made. She smiled shyly and put on the necklace.

“I won’t take it off, please - be careful. Both of you.” She hugged you tightly and left quickly.

----

For the next couple of weeks both you and Max made it a point to get close to the newcomers. Thinking that maybe if you got close enough you would be able to sense it but it was for naught. They kept fastidiously to themselves, the only time you saw them was when they performed. Even then - Max couldn’t get a sense of who the danger was. You had learned from your mother’s book that it would be difficult, that the days before and after a full moon - this person could appear to be perfectly human.

——

The full moon was coming in just a few days and the tension between you and a few townspeople was palpable. Even before Sarah and other people had embraced you, things were never this bad.

You studied the book constantly, using your mothers knowledge to create a weapon that would be able to kill the beast. It would have been better to cure it but it was for naught, there was none to be found. The biggest fear would be that someone else would get bitten, spreading the curse to someone else.

Well, not the biggest fear - the biggest fear would be that someone would get killed.

——

“What do you propose we do? This is the best course of action. You know that.” He was right, as angry and upset as you were, you had to admit he was right.

“I don’t like it Max. I should be out there with you.” Your voice was soft, you were trying to argue but he looked so worried.

“I know. I cannot focus if there’s a chance you might get hurt. If something were to happen to you, I would never forgive myself- you know it makes sense- I can cover more ground without you.” He walked over to you, untangling your arms to wrap them around his neck.

He had a way of making you crack, of burrowing under your skin; into your heart. You couldn’t help but press your ear to his chest.

“I have to know you’re safe, if we both get hurt then we’re useless.” He pressed his lips to your temple.

“Very well, please be careful.” You held him tightly, as tight as you could and he let you.

---

It felt horrible to sit around and worry.

You made tea, you flipped through the book absentmindedly, it was almost a compulsion. Ambrose could sense your anxiety and he plopped down on your lap, purring loudly against your skin.

Max insisted on patrolling every night of the full moon. He was determined to destroy the beast and have your lives return to normal and you couldn’t blame him, but you couldn’t sleep until he walked through your door safe and sound. When he eventually did you would nearly tackle him to the ground.

The relief wasn’t to last though.

He burst through your door on the last night of the full moon. He was covered in blood and he held a body in his arms.

Your heart seized up, Sarah was limp in his arms. You were frantic, you could see her throat had been ripped open and you held the scream in your throat. He was speaking to you as he laid her down on the table.

“My love, I need you to focus. Is there anything in your book on how to save her?” You took a deep breath as he spoke, opening the book to the familiar pages with trembling hands.

There’s so much blood

“There’s no way to undo the curse Max, if she doesn’t die - she’ll be one of them.” The tears were flowing now, she was so young, so full of life. You walked over to her, brushing the hair out of her face. Her skin was like ivory and far too cold. Her breaths were shallow and the blood was flowing slowly. Her heart was pumping her life away.

“Can you save her?” You knew he didn’t like talking about it, but it might be the only chance she had. His eyes were on you and you could see the pain in them; inner turmoil bubbling up.

“My love, it would not be her choice and she might hate me for it. Hate you for making it for her.” His words were knives to your already broken heart.

“Please Max, I cannot lose her.” You were sobbing then, voice paper thin and up to your elbows in her blood. Her ragged breaths must have been an agony. She was bleeding into her lungs.

“Are you prepared to deal with her scorn?” His voice was cloud-soft, he didn’t want to lose her either.

“Yes.” You spoke to him but you kept your eyes on her. “Whatever it takes to save her, please.”

He changed her.

——-

You waited for her to change with baited breath. It took much longer than anticipated and you almost chewed your nails to the bone. Max fared no better, he paced the cottage while the transformation occurred and you could feel his fear. Whatever had happened in his past weighed heavy on his mind while you waited. You asked him what happened to distract him.

Max had destroyed the creature, it was one of the newcomers - he’d been taken with Sarah and they had stepped out together when he changed and in her fear; her talisman had been lost.

When you saw her skin stitching itself back together you breathed a sigh of relief, your body was a tense knot and you felt your muscles loosen slightly as her breathing regulated, as her body repaired itself.

“She will be thirsty when she wakes.” He whispered, sensing her starting to come to.

When she woke she was disoriented and Max stood between the two of you with his arms up, his body a wall between Sarah and you. He held her firmly in his grasp and spoke in clear sentences.

“Sarah sweetling, can you hear me?” He was staring into her wild eyes, for a moment it was as if she didn’t recognize either of you but a few seconds later you saw her soften, saw her take you both in.

“Max? What happened? What happened to me?” She was looking at her hands, her eyes darted around rapidly and you could see the fear.

“Sarah - focus on my voice. I need you to listen.” He came closer to her, very slowly, approaching her like one would a wild animal. He explained what had happened to her and what he’d done. What he was, what she now was as well. She looked at you with fear in her eyes and Max almost broke. This was what he’d been afraid of.

“Am I going to be okay?” She was terrified and you wanted to hug her but Max wouldn’t let you.

“You’re going to be fine - come, I will help you and once you're fed I will bring you back here and we will talk.” He turned to kiss you quickly, his unconscious need to feel you close was as much to reassure him as it was to reassure you. “Draw a bath for her my love, she will want to get clean when we get back.” With that they both left.

----

It took days for her to adjust, Max walking her through the change. His fear that she would hate you both never left him and you could hear the silent apologies in the way he treated her. The way he guided her through everything like a father would a favoured child.

At first she was afraid, terrified of herself and her new abilities but it didn’t last. She took to it well. Her young age, which he thought would be a hindrance - actually worked in her favour.

She had a long way to go until she had the same level of control as Max, but both of you would be there to help her.

To be continued...

---

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[lihikainanea]

Did tiger and bill ever go through like a phase where tiger kind of had to get used to bill thinking of her? Like she wasn't really used to being someone's first choice, like someone thinking about what she might like or want. To have someone frankly just think of you. I'm sorry to be a bother. Just feeling kind of bad lately, and could use some sweet bill. Sorry again.

First of all boo, please don't ever be sorry for sliding into my DMs. I love hearing from you guys, especially if you're not doing that well. I'm all ears, and this blog is a safe space for everyone--so pull up a chair and stay awhile. I, and our two favourite idiots, would be nothing if it weren't for all the amazing asks that you guys send to me <3

Secondly, I love this train of thought because I think it is very, very true. And it probably started back at the beginning of their friendship, right? Yes, it did. Follow me down this rabbit hole.

Bill doesn't make a lot of new friends because since the whole fame thing, he has trouble trusting people--and Bill, by nature, is a caretaker. He's extremely nurturing. He provides. He takes care of those close to him, in one way or another. But he knows his own empathic side, he knows its limits and boundaries, and one of the worst things he can do for his own well being is care about too many people. Get involved with too many people. Bill is happiest amongst his close group of friends, people he knows he can trust, people he can cook dinner for and host movie nights for and fly halfway around the world when he has a premiere.

And tiger, for her part--my girl tiger, she has zero self-preservation skills. Like, none. And Bill is fascinated by that. He's fascinated by this little fireball who not only has no idea who he is, but who subsequently really couldn't give a shit once she found out. He's enamoured with this little scrappy ball of ire who is convinced not only that she can start a bar fight with everyone in the pub, but that she can legitimately win. Bill's never seen anything like it. And once you meet tiger, she's impossible not to love. Or at least, it's impossible not to be intrigued by her, and to want to know more.

But the thing is, that firecracker personality and the massive chip on her shoulder doesn't come from nowhere--tiger's been hurt a lot. And it's because she never goes for the good guys. For as much as Bill has an empath side, tiger has the self-destructive kind where she wants to fix people. And she always goes for the dudes who will take and take and take, the dudes who play rope a dope with her heart, and who leave her shattered. Tiger gives her soul away too easily, and she takes it as a challenge when she's tossed to the side by some guy who was never worth her time anyway. She tries to prove she's worthy.

But then in comes Bill--this big, wall-eyed, kind of freaky looking dude who seems nice and kind and is moderately soft spoken. And when they hang out, Bill starts showing a genuine interest--platonically, of course--but it's genuine. He asks what she does for a living. He asks if she likes it. He wants to know where she went to school, what she studied. Does she have any siblings? Because he has a lot, and he knows how tough big families can make you. When tiger can't decide if she wants the chilli fries or the chicken wings one night at a pub, Bill tells her to get both--and that's when she knew they'd be friends.

And it slowly but surely escalated from there--still all platonic at the beginning--but suddenly, Bill was asking her how she was getting home, if she needed a ride. He was asking her how her week was, when everyone got together on Friday--and if she had mentioned something big previously, a meeting or a presentation or something--he'd remember, and ask her how it went. If he left the bar early, he'd politely ask her if she could text him when she got home.

"Why?" she scoffed.

"Because somebody needs to look out for you," he answered honestly. Tiger, in true fashion, balked awkwardly.

And this is where her defence mechanism started to fly up. Because when you're not used to being cared for, when you're not used to genuinely mattering to someone or hell even just getting the attention of a truly good person--it's weird. It's awkward. It's scary as hell and requires a level of vulnerability that tiger isn't ready to let exist--because it would mean that she would have to admit to herself that she is worthy. That this is the norm, and that she deserves this. That she knowingly let herself settle for being treated like shit for so many years.

And tiger's first defence is always anger. So maybe she started getting real snippy with him, probably well into their friendship by this point--so Bill was cooking for her, and if he wasn’t then he was checking in to make sure she ate at least one vegetable that day. If she had a date, he would wait until she texted him that she was in for the night--whether that was at the guy’s place or hers. If she needed a ride home in the morning then he would pick her up, in all of her walk of shame glory--but he’d pick her up with a few Advil, some big sunglasses, a huge coffee. And he would absolutely make fun of her nefarious, ill-fated decisions but he’d always wait at least 12 hours before he dared.

But to go even further--you are absolutely right. Bill does put her first. Once she is solidified as his best friend, then there’s no going back--she comes first. And part of it is Bill really is legitimately concerned because tiger has no self preservation skills and he worries that if HE doesn’t concern himself over her, then tiger will just like...her reckless decisions will be her undoing. He must look after Little Human, because Little Human’s self-destructive streak is far too prevalent. He has left dates in the dust when she needed his help. He looks out for her in group settings, and intervenes if some idiot is getting too handsy with her. If he has a boys night that night but tiger calls crying because some idiot broke her heart, or crying because it’s shark week and she’s out of gummy bears--then Bill is there. In a heartbeat, he’s there. She comes first.

And I’ll bet it’s all very nice, but it also kind of has tiger seething. Because she’s not used to this kind of...care. The genuineness of it. And tiger can’t be vulnerable enough to admit that part of her likes it, part of her feels safe knowing that even in the wee hours of the morning, Bill is awake and waiting for her to let him know she got in safely. Part of her kind of likes this idea that someone is thinking of her, that someone prioritizes her. But it’s still tiger, so she also gets hella mad. And she seethes--for a long time, she seethes. Quietly. And then maybe it all just comes to a head one night when she goes over to Bill’s place after work and he has a crisp glass of white wine waiting for her, a change of clothes, even her favourite make up remover--the kind that doesn’t sting, because she has sensitive skin. And all of that pisses her off, but then she walks into the kitchen as he’s deftly cleaning and slicing mushrooms.

“How did it go?” he asks casually. Tiger plays dumb.

“How did what go?” she swigs her wine.

“The meeting with your boss today.”

“...Fine,” she mumbles, petulantly. Of course he’d remember that, even though she told him two weeks ago. 

“We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to,” he offers kindly. Tiger sees an errant pile of green onions on his chopping board, and she eyes them wearily but somewhat triumphantly. Bill heads to the fridge, pulls out a bowl of salad, then he tosses the green onions in. Perfect, she thinks, and it gives her a weird sense of satisfaction. Mr. Nice Guy, Mr. Considerate, doesn’t even remember what she considers to be the most significant thing about her. That she hates green onions. She feels triumphant, renewed. Somewhat weirdly comforted to confirm that perhaps she doesn’t mean that much to him.

Until he heads back to the fridge, and pulls out another bowl of salad--one that he promptly dresses, salts and peppers, and tosses. One without green onions. One for her.

“Why do you do that?!” she explodes. Bill jumps in surprise.

“Do what?” he asks innocently, “This one has no green onions!”

“Exactly,” she continues, “Ugh, Bill. Just...why do you always...ugh, Bill!”

Bill is stunned, still holding his bowl of salad, trying to figure out what exactly is happening here.

“It’s too much,” tiger says, slamming her wine down, “All of it is too much.”

“What’s too much?”

“You! This. Why do you always just....think of everything?” she says, and she’s steadfastly working herself into a tizzy.

“Tiger...”

“How? How do you remember these things? How do you fucking remember that I had a meeting with my boss today, a meeting that I told you about two weeks ago? Why do you make a whole other bowl of salad for me, why do you remember that I hate green onions?”

“Because I care about you kid,” he shrugs.

Tiger is angry, but she’s also at a loss for words. Bill’s genuineness, his honesty, will do that. For as much as she struggles to be vulnerable. Bill shows that side of himself openly. She doesn’t even know why she’s so angry. Bill watches her for a minute, but she’s kind of just bug-eyed so he goes back to his cutting board and starts calmly chopping his little mushrooms again.

“I don’t like it,” she mutters after a long pause.

“Too bad,” he shrugs non-chalantly. Tiger glares at him.

“Too bad?” she seethes.

“Too bad,” he repeats.

“Stop it,” she says.

“No.”

“Bill, I mean it. Stop always trying to--”

“No.”

“I’m not finished,” she stamps her foot, “Stop being such--”

“No.” he says again, “Tiger, this is what I do.This is how I am. I care about the people that matter to me.”

“Well I don’t ma--”

“Yes you do. You matter to me. So I suggest you put on your big girl panties, and fucking deal with it,” he says. And that’s final. Tiger is taken aback at his tone, at the way his face suddenly got serious--but then in a heartbeat, it’s relaxed again.

“Now, do you want mustard on your burger, or ketchup?” he asks. Tiger is petulantly silent, glaring at him.

“Tiger.” he warns, holding up the hamburger bun.

“Shouldn’t you already know?” she huffs in annoyance, going to the fridge and grabbing the wine. She swigs it right from the bottle as she boosts herself up on the kitchen counter. Bill goes to the fridge and grabs the mayo--her favourite--putting a thick schmear on the bun.

“God, get fucked asshole,” she mutters. Bill just grabs her face, plants a noisy kiss on her cheek as she shrieks and swats him.

[quickspinner]

Oops - Part 1

Part 1 | Part 2 | AO3

Summary: A little too much alcohol, a drunken hookup, it happens all the time, right? Marinette didn't mean to drink so much, and she didn't mean to wake up in a stranger's bed, but she did, and now this morning isn't going at all the way she expected. When Luka asks to see her again, she can't think of a good reason to say no...and the one night she never meant to have turns out to be the beginning of something she never could have anticipated.

Alya thinks its hysterical--only Marinette could take home a one night stand and end up with a date. But when the one night stand turns into a series of hookups, Alya's starting to get concerned. Clearly it's up to her to rein Marinette in before the girl gets seriously hurt.

Rating: M - this is a little spicier than my usual fare but not really explicit? There’s a lot of off screen sex and reference to sexy things and adult activities, some drinking (obviously), cursing/foul language. 

Credit to my tumblr followers for this one, because one day I went "hey, you guys want to see some bits from the folder of fics I'm never going to finish?" and one of the bits I posted was the beginning of this story, and people liked it more than I was expecting, and then it was "well, you know, I did think about doing blahblah" and "I'd sure love to see that!" and the next thing you know I've added five thousand words with no sign of stopping. In Marinette’s words: Oops. So, with much love to my followers and readers across platforms, here's the fic I never intended to finish, and I hope you enjoy it!

I'm splitting it into two chapters but they'll both be uploaded within a few minutes, so if you finish the first part and the second one isn't posted yet, just wait a little and try back. Also, much love to @livrever for talking me down off the ledge and beta reading this one. 

Marinette woke up with a mouth that felt like cotton and a pounding headache. She groaned, and pressed her face into the pillow. It...smelled funny. Not bad, just...not like home. 

Oh. Because she hadn’t gone home last night. At least, not to her home. 

“Are you shitting me right now?” 

Marinette jumped, and sat up, clutching the sheets to her still-naked body. Her head reeled and she whimpered as she pressed the heel of her hand to her forehead. The door to the bedroom was cracked and she could see a sliver of light beyond it that blinked in and out. It seemed her...friend, was pacing in the other room, and from the sound of it, he wasn’t very happy. 

“—crosses a line, Jean. What? No, that’s not the point, Jean, you got me hammered without my consent! How can you not see the problem here? No, you know what, my head is killing me and I’m sick of yelling at you, obviously this can’t be fixed. As of right now, we are no longer friends. Don’t call me, don’t talk to me, if you see me coming just walk the other way. I’m done with you.”

There was a thump and a sigh and an emphatic “Fuck.”  

Marinette just sat there, holding the sheet over her chest, and blinked, trying to figure out what she should do and think through the fog in her brain. She didn’t exactly have a whole lot of experience in these situations. Was she supposed to just…

Before she could form any ideas, he came in with a glass of water and a bottle of painkillers. He had a pair of tattered but well-fitting jeans on with patterned boxers peeking out from the waistband, but no shirt, and there was a lot of muscle and bare skin on display and oh God he had sex hair, and it was her hands that had done it. Marinette swallowed and twisted her fingers tighter in the sheets, suddenly feeling a bit lightheaded.

“Hi,” he said gently. “I’m Luka, in case you don’t remember. Sorry if I woke you. How are you feeling? I mean, hung over, obviously, but on a scale of just let me die to I might conceivably want to live to tomorrow …” He gave her a smile that perhaps wasn’t entirely confident, and Marinette couldn’t help a small smile back. 

“I think I’m not quite up to dancing to the metal band playing in my head, but pretty far from oh God where’s the bathroom, so I’ll take it, all things considered.” She took the glass of water he offered and he opened the aspirin bottle and shook a couple out into her palm. That was sweet, she thought. At least he wasn’t just tossing her clothes at her and kicking her out. How could she have let herself end up in a position like this?

Luka sat on the edge of the bed and watched her take the pills. “Man, you’re really gorgeous. I thought at least some of it would be the booze, but—“ He looked away, clearing his throat. “Lucky me.”

Marinette’s face burned. “Thanks,” she said softly, not sure what else to say. At least he was nice, she thought. At least she hadn’t slept with a jerk. And he’d certainly been...considerate. It wasn’t as if she hadn’t enjoyed herself, just...

“How much do you remember about last night?” he asked. His voice was rough, but he kept it soft. “I’m sorry for asking but I was way more drunk last night than I ever let myself get and I don’t think I blacked out but some things are...spotty.”

“Most of it, I think,” Marinette flashed him an embarrassed smile. “The good parts for sure. The details and...transitions, I guess, are a little hazy. I don’t remember how we got here from the club, for example.”

“But you remember being here, with me.” His eyes fell to her neck and shoulders and he winced. “Man I really marked you up, I’m sorry. I hope that’s not going to get you in trouble.” His eyes widened slightly. “Please tell me you aren’t married.”

“No,” she yelped. “No, I’m not married. Totally single.” She put her face in her hand. “Absolutely, devastatingly, recently single.” 

Luka let out a sigh of relief and gave her a sympathetic smile. “Bad breakup?”

She sighed. “Very. Bad breakup, bad best friend applying bad breakup logic that lands me my very first one night stand. Yay me.”

“Um, I’m honored?” Luka grinned sheepishly. “Although, I mean...it doesn’t have to be. Just the one night, I mean. Not that—” He cleared his throat and looked away. “Even as drunk as I was, I know I had a lot of fun last night.” He rubbed his hand through his hair. “And even before I got too drunk to function I wanted to get your number.” He rolled his eyes. “Apparently one of my so-called friends decided I needed a little extra liquid courage.” 

“I wish I had an excuse,” Marinette muttered, shoulders curling inward. “I just...didn’t want to be sad anymore.” She frowned as what he’d said and the conversation she’d overheard connected in her brain. “Are you...okay?”

“I’m pissed off,” Luka huffed, and then smiled again. “But I’m fine. I didn’t do— much I wouldn’t have done anyway. Just, not necessarily in that order, or that soon. As long as you’re okay, I’m okay.” He put a hand on her shoulder. “Are you okay?”

“I’m...not sure,” Marinette sighed, adjusting her grip on the sheet she held to her chest. “I don’t know how I feel. I definitely did some things I wouldn’t have done sober. You, specifically,” she joked weakly. “Not that you aren’t—not that I didn’t—“

“I get it,” he chuckled. 

“But...I’m on birth control, and…” she turned and craned her neck to look at the spilled box and empty wrappers on the nightstand. “We used protection, and…” she looked at Luka, worrying her lip. 

“I’m clean,” he supplied.

“Me too,” she whispered, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. “And you’re hot and you seem nice and it’s not like it didn’t feel good, and I definitely wasn’t sad for a while, so…” She shrugged. “I’m a little embarrassed but...I think I’m okay too.”

“Well, no need to be embarrassed with me,” Luka grinned. “I’m definitely not judging.” 

They sat smiling at each other for a moment, and then Luka seemed to remember something, because he winced. “Umm...about your dress,” he coughed. “I am so, so sorry but it seems drunk me was kinda impatient and your dress is in pieces on my living room floor.” 

Marinette just blinked at him for a moment...and then she started to laugh. Luka grinned, and then started to chuckle along with her. She laughed harder and grabbed her head. “Ow, ow, oh my God.” Without thinking she leaned forward to drop her head on Luka’s shoulder. 

He stiffened up for a second, but then relaxed, and one of his hands slipped into her hair. His fingers began to rub in small circles. 

“Mmm, that’s good,” she sighed, and felt Luka’s chuckle.

“Well that sounds familiar,” he said, his voice going a little deeper. Marinette shivered. She felt him swallow, and his face dipped slightly towards her. “I like your perfume,” he said, and had to clear his throat again. Marinette’s face warmed.

“Thank you,” she said quietly. His fingers continued to rub her aching head, and the pain actually seemed to be receding a bit, though whether from the massage or the painkillers he’d given her, she wasn’t sure.

She should sit up. He was a stranger, after all, and just because they’d—she wasn’t exactly experienced at this kind of thing but this wasn’t really fitting in with what she imagined a morning after to be like. She probably looked weird, leaning on him like...like they were a couple or something, and—

Luka’s hands shifted and began to comb gently, slowly through her hair, and Marinette let out a small moan. She felt his breath hitch and bit her lip, embarrassed. “Sorry,” she whispered.

“What for?” he asked, but there was a rough edge to his voice that—she was being silly though, he’d performed last night, and then they’d done all that drinking, and...and those other things, and it was no wonder if his voice was—

That voice was doing things to her, though, and reminding her of—things, and this time it was her breath that caught as the fingers that had been moving through her hair kept going down this time, sliding along her spine, raising goosebumps and reminding her that she was still very much naked. 

“Do you, um,” Luka began, in the exact same deep tones that had made her leave the club with him last night. “Do you have anywhere you need to be right now?” 

His fingers stilled, resting at the small of her back, and Marinette couldn’t see his face since hers was still buried in his shoulder. It was hard to think when he was so warm, and her nose was brushing his collarbone, and she’d hardly have to move to press her lips against his smooth skin. 

She barely knew him. But...well...that hadn’t stopped her last night, so...

Marinette took a deep breath, and lifted her head, sitting back slightly to look at him. His breathing was steady as he looked back at her, almost too steady, but his eyes were dark. 

“No,” she managed, barely above a whisper. 

Luka’s hands moved up her back to trail up and down her arms. “Then, do you want to stay for a while longer?” They were swaying towards each other. “Maybe…” They were kissing before he could finish the thought. Marinette put her arms around his neck automatically, but as his arms went around her, pulling her closer, she dropped her hands back down again to rub over his broad, firm shoulders. 

“Again?” he managed to get out between the fevered kisses, and Marinette made an affirmative noise, but he didn’t move until she broke away long enough to gasp, “Yes.” 

He was pulling away the sheet between them even as he wrapped one arm around her and dragged her more fully onto the bed, settling her below him with surprising gentleness. Okay, that was hot, Marinette decided, burying her fingers in his already-messy hair as he began retracing the path he’d marked along her neck last night. Last night had been a really, really stupid decision, but this? As he pulled back to look at her, eyes clear and sharp instead of the hazy, unfocused gaze he’d had the night before, and brushed her hair tenderly back from her face before kissing her again, softly, and then deeply, Marinette began to feel that this morning was by far the best decision she’d made in a long time. 

***

He should get up, Luka thought hazily, listening to his shower running. He should at least put his boxers back on or something. Change the sheets. Make some coffee. Something.

Instead he lay there, limp and relaxed, listening to the shower, and trying to hold on to this feeling of languid contentment.

God, he felt so good. Marinette was an amazing partner, sweet and so responsive, practically melting under his touch, firm and toned but soft in all the right places, and her little gasps and hums drove him crazy. She was bolder than he expected, an amazing kisser even drunk off her ass last night, and her mouth was so pretty and soft, and this morning...his body hummed with echoes of pleasure as he thought about it. 

He rolled over, hugging his pillow, and grinned. He could still smell her perfume. That scent was engraved in his mind; it was one of the things that was clearest to him from the jumbled mix of memories of the night before. Luka remembered dancing with Marinette, dropping his head to hear something she was saying, and inhaling that scent, vivid despite the riot of smells that permeated the dance floor. He remembered being surrounded by it in the blur that was the cab ride home. He remembered gasping it in on the living room floor...did they fall? He thought he remembered one of them tripping over the doorstep. Even just now, with all his senses full of her, he had found traces of it on her skin, at her jaw and right behind her ear. 

Luka shivered, buried his face in the pillow, and breathed deep. 

He’d played a killer set last night, he’d gone home with a beautiful woman who was great in bed, had somehow managed not to humiliate himself despite his spiked drinks, and he had nowhere to be today. This morning would be perfect if he wasn’t dead certain that Marinette was going to leave and he would never see her again. 

He really wanted to see her again. 

Which was why he hadn’t wanted things to happen this way, damn it. He sighed, this time burying his face in the pillow to muffle his groan. He was supposed to flirt with her, get her number, ask her out, think with his brain and not his—hormones. 

He was still going to kill his so-called friend. There was no justifying what Jean had done. If Victor had been working it never would have happened, but he’d called out for the night and apparently whoever had replaced him had been more than happy to make sure Luka’s drinks were stronger than advertised.

Bastards, both of them. 

Even if it hadn’t turned out too badly. 

Rock Giant blared out from his nightstand, and Luka flopped on his back and grabbed for his phone, forcing his eyes open as he answered it. “Hello?” he grumbled. 

Silence. Luka frowned, and opened his mouth, but the person on the other end finally said, “I’m looking for Marinette.” 

What? Luka frowned, and then pulled the phone away from his ear and looked at it. It was pink. 

Right. Because he’d found Marinette’s dead phone on the floor this morning when he got up, and he’d picked it up and set it in his charger, while he took his own to the living room to call and yell at Jean. Then he’d hurled his phone into the couch and left it there.

Shit. 

“Ah,” he said, reaching up with his other hand to run his fingers through his hair. “She’s, um, in the shower. I can tell her to call you when she gets out.” 

“Tell her to call Alya. If I don’t hear from her in fifteen minutes, I’m calling the police,” the girl on the other end of the line said coldly, and then hung up.

“Oops,” Luka muttered, setting Marinette’s phone back on the nightstand with a sigh. He hoped she wouldn’t be too mad at him. He probably should have come up with a more ambiguous excuse, something she could use for a cover if she didn’t want to admit to this Alya person that she’d gone home with a guy, but he wasn’t exactly thinking on his feet this morning. 

He should get up. He sat up with a groan and swung his legs over to sit on the edge of the bed, scrubbing his hands over his face. 

He registered that the shower was no longer running at about the same time that the door opened. Luka looked up and his jaw dropped as Marinette shuffled shyly into the room.

Shit, he’d seen her naked less than an hour ago, why was he still blushing?  She was wearing two of his shirts, a t-shirt with one of his button-ups over it, open at the front and with the sleeves rolled up, cinched at her waist with her scarf from the night before. He couldn’t look away from that scarf for a moment, a pink, gauzy thing the sight of which brought Luka another vivid memory of pressing his face against her neck to inhale her perfume as he untied it. His eyes flicked up to the lovely pattern of bruises along her neck. 

“Thanks for letting me raid your closet,” Marinette said, tugging slightly at the hem of his shirt. She had what looked like a pair of his black bike shorts on underneath. They were too big for her but damn did her legs look good anyway.

“No problem,” he coughed, and cleared his throat, reaching for the glass of water that was still sitting on his nightstand. Ugh, when did he become such a horn dog, drooling like this over a woman who had already more than satisfied him. Why did Jean have to decide to be a jerk last night, of all nights. Luka didn’t want things to end like this. 

“Well, I should...If you maybe have a bag I can put my dress in? Then I can just go and get out of your hair.” Marinette couldn’t seem to be still, feet shuffling, hands fluttering, not looking at him.

I have to fix this, was the only thing he could think as he stared at her. I’ll regret it forever if she just walks out.

“Actually,” Luka said quickly, trying desperately not to sound too desperate, “I was going to ask if I could buy you breakfast.” 

That stilled her. She froze, staring at him, and he forced himself to go on. “No pressure,” he shrugged, “But the café on the corner has a great all-day brunch menu. And I’d like to make it up to you, about the dress.” He grinned sheepishly, running a hand through his hair. Marinette’s eyes followed the motion and he thought he saw pink tint her cheeks. Well, at least it wasn’t just him. “Breakfast probably doesn’t begin to cover it, but it’s a start. If you don’t mind waiting for me to shower.” 

Marinette was shuffling again. “O-okay,” she said. “I’ll, um...I’ll wait for you in the other room?”

Luka chuckled. “Sure.” He waited a moment, but when she just stood there, he tossed aside the sheet covering his lap and stood. “I’ll be quick,” he told her with a grin that he was extremely sure she didn’t see. She squeaked as he passed her and he had to smother his laughter, even as he closed the bathroom door behind him. She was too cute, and her ogling made him feel less like a creep for his own.

Then he cursed and opened the door again, leaning just his upper half out. “Oh, I need to tell you, you need to call, um, Alya? I’m really sorry, but we have the same ringtone and I answered without thinking. Can you call her back before she sends the cops after me? I can’t deal with Officer Roger this early in the morning.”

Marinette paused, and then let out a strangled laugh, dropping her head into her hand. “Yeah,” she sighed, but she was smiling when she looked up at him. “Sure, I can do that.” 

Luka smiled back. “I'll only be a few minutes.” 

He did want to be quick, but he also wanted to be clean and attractive, so he throttled back his impatience as best he could to make sure that he both smelled and looked good. The bedroom was still empty when he came in, but the door wasn’t shut all the way and he could hear Marinette on the phone. He felt a little guilty for eavesdropping, but it wasn’t as if he could help it. 

“—about that but it’s not like I ditched you on purpose. Well obviously I was wasted, Alya, so I wasn’t exactly thinking clearly.  No, I’m really fine. I’m kind of embarrassed and I feel really stupid, but...it turned out okay. Hmm? No, he’s really sweet and considerate. He’s, um, buying me breakfast, so…what? No, Alya, I’m not stupid, I know that. He’s just being nice and—okay that is none of your business! ” There was a giggle that followed that, and then her voice dropped too quiet for him to hear, and another giggle, one that made him smile from the sheer joy evident in it. ��I guess I got lucky in more ways than one.” She sighed. “Anyway, you don’t have to worry about me. I really am fine. Not even sick, much. I mean I had a headache for a while, but...” She giggled again. “Luka took care of it. Mm-hmm, so good, Alya, oh my God.” Luka grinned to himself as he dug in his closet to find the stack of leftover merch he had crammed into the back corner. “Nuh uh, also none of your business. Anyway, I’m not dead in a ditch somewhere, and I’ll text you when I’m on my way back, okay?”

Stop being a smug bastard , Luka told himself, but it wasn’t working very well. Given the state she had reduced him to, it was gratifying to know she’d enjoyed herself too. Well, he had known that, he’d made sure of it, but it still felt good to hear it from her. Maybe his odds were better than he thought. He found what he was looking for and tried to turn his smirk into something less incriminating before he opened his door and emerged into the living room. From the way Marinette’s face turned red, he failed. “I really gotta go,” she mumbled into the phone, eyes on him. “Bye, Alya.” 

“I hope this will do,” Luka said, offering her the cheap mesh tote with his band logo on it. “You can keep it, we use them to bag up merch when people by t-shirts and stuff for the band...I hope it’s…”

“It’s fine,” Marinette smiled, taking the bag. The pieces of her dress were already neatly folded on the couch, and she turned away from him to put them in the bag. 

“I’m really sorry about that,” Luka told her, frowning a little. “I’m...not usually like that.”

“It’s okay,” Marinette sighed. “It was kind of flimsy, with just those straps to hold the pieces together. I’m not usually like this…” she gestured with one of the folded pieces, “either. I’m not, you know, sexy like that. I made it because I thought...well, I thought he would like it, and maybe I could wear it for a special occasion at home, but I never meant to wear it out , and then when everything happened, I thought I’d never wear it at all, but then Alya insisted that I had to wear it at least once and…” She shrugged, and slipped the handles of the tote over her arm, smiling up at him. “I’m just as happy to have an excuse not to wear it again.” 

“Well, you looked amazing in it,” Luka told her, the corner of his mouth twitching. “But I have to disagree with you about not usually being sexy. My clothes have never looked so hot.”

She tried to hide how much she enjoyed the compliment, but couldn’t quite manage it, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. She’d had a breakup, he remembered, and probably wasn’t feeling too good about herself when she walked into that bar last night, dressed to the nines, and started knocking back drinks. 

Then her blue eyes flicked up to give him a look through her lashes. “I find that hard to believe,” she murmured, and then blushed. 

Oh he was gone. Luka found himself reaching for her, but stopped his hand before it touched her cheek. “Can I kiss you, Marinette?” 

Her eyebrows shot up. “Now, you’re asking?” 

“Yes, I’m asking,” Luka replied, amused. “Why wouldn’t I?”

Marinette’s eyes darted to his mouth, and then back towards the bedroom. “I don’t, um...think I can…” 

Luka chuckled. “Thanks for your opinion of my stamina, but frankly, me either. I’d be more than willing if I could, but, right here right now? I just really want to kiss you.” 

“Why?” Marinette blurted, and then covered her mouth. Luka blinked, but before he could come up with any kind of answer, Marinette straightened and squared her shoulders. “Look,” she said briskly. “I’m sorry, I just...I’ve never done this before, and I don’t know what...I don’t know what the rules are? The...etiquette, or whatever...I mean I kind of thought once we were done with…” Her eyes shifted towards his bedroom again. “I thought it was just, over? And I would go home? So I’m...I guess I’m confused. About why you’re still...um...breakfast and kissing and all that, it just…why would you still want that, after you—I mean we—aren’t we, you know…” She floundered. 

“Okay, hold on,” Luka raised his hands placatingly. “Relax, Marinette. That was kind of a lot to take in.” Luka chuckled, and looked away for a moment as he gathered his thoughts. “I’m not gonna say I’ve never done this before, but...listen, I don’t have a playbook. This isn’t...a business transaction, or whatever. I just do what feels good. Dancing with you felt good. Kissing you felt good. Everything we did after felt good. This morning felt really good.” Marinette blushed, a smile tugging at her lips. “I just feel good with you. I don’t see any reason to put a time limit on that, just because we’re, um. Worn out.” They both giggled self-consciously, and Luka reached for Marinette’s hand, cradling it in his. “If you want to go, or you need to be somewhere, or if you’re just tired of kissing me—”

“I don’t,” Marinette said quickly, taking a half step forward. “I’m...not.” Luka smiled.

“Then just do what feels g—” 

She flung her arms around his neck and kissed him, dropping the bag on the floor. Luka’s hands found her hips automatically, steadying them both from her hasty move, and the kiss softened as they both relaxed into it. 

“You’re right,” Marinette breathed, sending a shiver up his spine. “It does feel good.” 

Luka kissed her again softly, savoring the soft plumpness of her lower lip between his, and rested his forehead against hers. “I could kiss you all day,” he rumbled, and cleared his throat. “But fainting from hunger probably wouldn’t feel so good, so. We should probably go.” 

“Okay,” Marinette said, and then bit the lip he’d just been enjoying. “But maybe we could...keep doing what feels good? For a while? Until I have to go?” 

“Hell yeah,” Luka grinned, and grinned wider when she rose up and kissed him again. He picked up her bag and offered it to her, and walked her to the front door and opened it for her, his other hand still entwined with hers.

They made it to the landing when Marinette hesitated at the top of the stairs. Looking over her head, Luka saw one of his nosier neighbors staring up at them, judgment in every line of her body. Marinette was frozen under the stare, red slowly creeping up her face. He could sense the sudden panic in her, and put a hand on her hip. 

Luka leaned down by her ear. “You were the hottest fucking thing I’ve ever seen last night,” he murmured, smiling when Marinette shivered and turned her head slightly to listen to him, jolted out of whatever spiral she’d been in. “You completely blew my mind this morning. You’re a goddess. Own it and walk out of here like one.”

Marinette felt as if Luka’s words sank into her skin, warming her in such a way that she almost forgot what they were talking about. She was busy reliving the way he had arched against her, the praises he had whispered into her skin, the way he had clung to her, moaning as he came apart. She did that to him. 

Luka watched as Marinette bit her lip, fighting the smile that was suddenly trying to break out. He brushed his lips against her temple and she looked up at him, still blushing but with a sparkle in her eye that did things to his heart. She reached back and caught his hand, tangling her fingers with his, and marched down the stairs, offering a cheerful smile to the old lady at the bottom. “Good morning,” she said, and Luka grinned shamelessly as they walked out of the door.

When they made it out of the building Luka suddenly pulled back on her hand, and Marinette gasped as he whirled her up against the wall and leaned down. Marinette rose up on her toes to meet him, cupping his face in her hands and they kissed fiercely. Luka braced his hands on the wall and leaned into her. 

“Perfect,” he breathed, though even he wasn’t sure whether he meant her performance just now, or her in general. 

Marinette’s hands slid from his face to his shoulders as she blushed and looked down, but then she looked back up at him, beaming, and Luka couldn’t help smiling back at her as he cupped her cheek and kissed her lightly one more time. “Breakfast,” he sighed, and pushed off the wall. He held out his hand, and Marinette put hers in it, and they were both grinning as they meandered down the sidewalk. 

“How are you feeling?” he asked, and Marinette sighed blissfully. 

“I feel...really good,” she answered. “Thank you.” She paused, and scrunched her nose. “Is that weird to say?” 

“No,” Luka laughed, and brought their hands to his lips to press a kiss against her fingers. “Thank you too. I had a really good time. I’m glad you did too. I’m glad that...well, with the way things started. It could have all gone really badly, or not at all, and...I’m really glad I could show you a good time.” 

Marinette blushed. “It was good. Really, um. Really good.” She sighed. “I promise I know more words than this.” 

Luka chuckled. “It’s okay. Here, it’s this one.” He opened the café door, but he didn’t let go of Marinette’s hand, following right behind her into the café. They were directed to a booth, and he tugged at her, urging her to sit next to him instead of across. 

Marinette only hesitated a moment. Do what feels good . Luka’s arm felt good against her shoulders as he laid it along the back of the booth, and he leaned down and kissed her without any trace of self-consciousness. Marinette’s fingers curled in his shirt. Kissing him felt really good. She should be embarrassed; she should be pushing him away. Hadn’t she heard over and over how important image is, and here she is making out with her one night stand, wearing his clothes, in a public diner booth. 

Do what feels good . 

It definitely felt good. 

“God that feels good,” Luka sighed as they parted, and Marinette giggled. He kissed the top of her head, and then picked up the menu as a slightly wary waitress approached. Marinette glanced up at him in surprise at the rather domestic gesture, but then quickly away again. Stupid. They’d already had that conversation. It was just an impulse, not something to read into. Marinette looked up at the waitress instead, feeling her cheeks heat. 

The waitress didn’t look phased at all. If anything, she looked bored. “Coffee?” she offered in a disinterested tone.

“Um, no, thank you,” Marinette managed to smile. “I’d like some lemon tea with honey, please.” 

The waitress nodded, and glanced at Luka. “Usual, Lu?” 

“Yeah, thanks,” Luka said, flashing a quick grin before looking at the menu again. 

“Come here often?” Marinette teased, and Luka chuckled, then coughed lightly.

“Yeah,” he admitted. “It’s close and I’m lazy, so…” He shrugged. 

The waitress returned and set down a little pot of hot water, a cup with a tea bag in it, and a container of honey. 

Marinette pulled away from Luka slightly to prepare the tea, but his arm remained behind her on the back of the booth. 

“Here,” Marinette said, sliding the tea over to him when it was ready. “This’ll help your throat.”. 

Luka blinked, and then smiled. “Thank you,” he said, and Marinette found herself blushing under his suddenly soft gaze.

“No, thank you,” she said, and he laughed as she reached over and stole his coffee cup. She sipped it carefully. It wasn’t quite as sweet as she liked it, but it was good enough. She glanced up at Luka over the rim, and he was still giving her that soft look. 

“I should figure out a ride,” Marinette murmured, looking away, and she picked up her phone.

“I can get you a cab if you want,” Luka offered, but Marinette shook her head. 

“My roommate’s boyfriend works nights around here, and he should be getting off soon. I’ll see if he can pick me up first.” She smiled at Luka. “If not, we can revisit the offer. Thank you.” 

He leaned down and kissed her again, and she kept him close for another, and her next text to Nino wasn’t entirely coherent. 

They had to disentangle from each other when their food came, but Marinette remained very aware of Luka’s arm brushing her own, and the soft smiles he gave anytime she glanced at him. She glanced away, tucking back a lock of hair to cover up the fact that she was grinning like a fool. Is this what it’s supposed to feel like? she wondered. Was this just like, afterglow or something? Would it fade away once she left?

Luka touched her shoulder and Marinette jumped. He blinked. “Sorry. I was just asking if you got your ride worked out, but I guess you were a bit zoned out.” 

“Sorry,” Marinette said quickly, and stuffed her phone back in her purse. “Yeah, Nino’s going to pick me up here in a little bit.” Luka nodded. 

He put his arm back around her when they were finished eating, and he ordered another lemon tea instead of the coffee she expected. “You were right,” he smiled. “It did help.” 

Marinette mixed it up for him again when it came, and then settled in and leaned against Luka’s side as he sipped it. He smelled nice, and he was warm, and she loved how easy he made everything feel. 

Luka watched Marinette’s eyelids begin to droop. He nuzzled her hair and kissed her temple, but she just smiled, her eyes still closed. She was adorable, and Luka sighed before jostling her slightly.

“Don’t fall asleep on me,” he warned, and Marinette blinked her eyes back open. “I don’t particularly mind, but we can’t stay in this booth all day.”

“Can’t we?” Marinette sighed. “I’m so comfortable. You���ve been...really great Luka. I’m kind of sorry it has to end.” 

Luka took a breath, and took the plunge. “Well, about that. I was hoping maybe we could see each other again.”

Marinette blinked uncomprehendingly, and then blushed as she sat up and looked at him. “Y-you mean, like a...a b-b—” 

“I mean like a date,” Luka corrected, mouth twitching. She was really too cute. “The kind with talking and dinner and movies or whatever. I’d really like to spend more time with you, Marinette. Talking, and not just...well. I’d be lying if I said I wanted to stop doing everything else, but...I want to get to know you.” 

Marinette’s eyes widened. “R-really?”

Luka tilted his head slightly. “Why are you surprised?” 

“I just don’t—I mean I didn’t think I’d be…” Marinette ducked her head, drawing circles in the ring of condensation forming around the base of her water glass. “You don’t even know me.” 

“True.” Luka raised his eyebrows, and shifted his gaze away so he wasn’t looking quite so fully at her. “That’s why I’m asking you out. I don’t know you, but I want to. If you want to call it quits now and go home and never see me again, I’ll accept that, but...it’s definitely not the way I want this to go.”

“I…” Marinette looked down, twining a finger nervously in her hair. “I don’t know, Luka. You’re really sweet and—I really did have a great time with you. It’s just…I don’t want you to get hurt because I’m on the rebound, I…I don’t know if I’m ready for another, um...relationship, right now. I mean...”

Not what he wanted to hear, but...“Okay. That’s fair,” Luka nodded, the fingers of his free hand beginning to tap the table lightly.. “What if we just keep things casual for now? We can go out sometimes, and have some fun together...do what feels good…” he squeezed her hip, and watched her try to keep back the smile that wanted to break out, “get to know each other, and if you want to see other people or whatever, I’m cool with that for now. I’d just really like the chance to spend more time with you. If it doesn’t go anywhere then…” He shrugged, “at least I tried. You’ve put me on notice now, so it’s my choice to take the risk. I think you’re worth it.” His heart was beating so fast, and the tap of his fingers picked up tempo as he watched Marinette consider. 

“Why?” Marinette whispered at last, with a sigh that hurt his heart. Her last relationship must really have done a number on her. 

Luka cupped her cheek in his hand, coaxing her to look up at him. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “I just...have a feeling about you. I’ve learned to trust my instincts about people. I can’t explain it logically, I just...know. You’re someone I want to know. I felt it from the moment I saw you, before I’d even had a single drink.” 

Marinette pursed her lips, looking up at him. “I don’t know how I’m supposed to live up to that,” she said after a long moment.

Luka let his thumb stroke lightly against her lower lip. “You don’t have to live up to anything. Just be you, and let what happens happen.” He bent and kissed her, slipping a hand behind her neck to get a better angle as he plundered her mouth in a way that was definitely not appropriate for a public place. Luka was pretty far beyond caring at the moment though. That this gorgeous, sweet, vibrant woman, could question that someone might be drawn to her, attracted to her for more than a passing moment...it just wasn’t right. 

Marinette relaxed into him with a quiet moan. Her hand slipped under his jacket and pressed into his chest, feeling him up shamelessly, and his own fingers tightened on her hip. 

“So,” he breathed, when he finally let her slip reluctantly away. “What do you say?”

Marinette looked up at him, and bit her reddened lip, and then quietly asked, “Are you free this weekend?”

Luka grinned. “Actually, not so much, I’m usually playing gigs on weekends...how about Thursday? That way I don’t have to hurry away.”

Marinette hummed, and pulled out her phone. He watched the fingertip she pressed against her lips as she considered her schedule, and admired her bright eyes when she smiled up at him. “Okay, Thursday works.” 

“It’s a date,” Luka smiled so softly that Marinette’s heart fluttered. How did he do that, kiss her like that and then do something so—so sweet . 

Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea, she thought as he got out his own phone to swap numbers with her. What if she fell for him? 

But...he sounded like he wanted her to fall for him. Maybe? But what if he fell for her, and she was just using him for sex? Because he’d made her feel so, so good...important and beautiful and wanted and…

It might not even be like that again, she told herself. Maybe I just imagined it because I was lonely and depressed and feeling unwanted...maybe I would be thinking about anyone who gave me some attention that way. Maybe we’ll just...fizzle out and it won’t even be an issue.. 

Luka curled his fingers under her chin and tilted her face up. “You okay?” he asked softly. 

“I…” her voice was shaking, and she took a breath and forced a smile. “Yeah. Just. I’m tired.” 

He didn’t believe her. “You’re okay,” he told her, kissing her cheek gently, and then the corner of her mouth. “Whatever’s going on, it’s going to be okay.”

Marinette’s phone beeped, and she picked it up with relief. “He’s almost here.”

She slid out of the booth, and Luka followed. He left some bills on the table and took her hand as they walked out. 

“That’s my ride,” Marinette gestured as Nino pulled up at the curb. She turned to face Luka, stepping close. He set his hands on her hips and squeezed as she leaned up to kiss his cheek, but she paused, and then turned and caught his mouth instead. Luka moved easily to meet her in one of those slow, deep kisses that made it seem like he had no other place in the world to be. She stroked his cheeks with her fingertips and kissed him again, and then again as she slid her fingers back up into his hair. “Goodbye, Luka,” she whispered, and he shook his head. 

“See you later,” he corrected softly.   

As he let go of her she felt something slide along her hip and looked down to see the pink scarf that had been tied around her waist slipping away. She looked up at Luka’s grinning face as he winked at her and draped the gauzy scarf around his neck. He raised the fabric to his face and inhaled. “See you Thursday,” he told her, eyes twinkling, and turned to walk away. 

Marinette’s knees felt shaky as she stepped down the curb and opened the car door. 

Nino was hunched down in the front seat, both hands pulling his cap over his face. “Geeze, Nette,” he muttered as she fell into the seat and tucked her feet inside. “I really didn’t need to see that.” 

“Sorry,” she said breathlessly, but as she flipped down the visor to check herself in the vanity mirror, she saw pink cheeks and sparkling eyes and a broad smile, and knew that she wasn’t convincing. She pressed her fingers to her lips and, for Nino’s sake, fought down the urge to squeal. 

Her glow dimmed a bit as she followed Nino up the stairs to the apartment she shared with Alya. She loved her friend, but...she wasn’t looking forward to this conversation. She tugged the collar of Luka’s shirt a little higher on her neck, and tried to remember what Luka had told her. She had nothing to be ashamed of. 

“Well well well,” Alya drawled as Marinette slipped into the apartment after Nino. “Your very first walk of shame.” She smirked. “Marinette, I didn’t know you had it in you.” 

“What I had in me was a lot of vodka,” Marinette huffed, and came over to the table, accepting the glass of ice water Alya pushed across to her.

Alya waited until Marinette had the drink at her lips to add, “And a hot guy, apparently.” 

Marinette choked, just as Alya had intended. “Alya!” 

“Don’t tell me he wasn’t, girl,” Alya snickered. “You, my friend, look very well fucked.” 

Marinette blushed hard. She was, at that, but Alya didn’t have to put it so...crassly.

Nino groaned. “You know what, just...knock and let me know when you’re done. I don’t want to think about it.” He went down the hall into Alya’s bedroom and shut the door. 

“So you said goodbye to Mr. Right For Tonight?” Alya asked, tapping her fingers against her own glass. “You have all your stuff, right?” She frowned. “Are those his clothes? What happened to your dress?”

“I have it with me,” Marinette defended, picking up the bag she’d dropped. “He just...thought I’d be more comfortable in something else.” Not for a million euros would she have told Alya the whole truth about the dress. “And yes, I said goodbye. For now, anyway,” Marinette muttered, and caught Alya’s gaze when she looked up. Something in that look made her squirm. “Actually we have a date later this week,” she admitted. 

“A date?” Alya raised her eyebrows. “Marinette, maybe I need to clue you in on a few things about this whole one night stand business. As in, one single night. After which you…” She made a fluttering motion with her hand. “You’re not supposed to get a date.” 

Marinette shrugged, and reached over to pluck a croissant from Alya’s plate, just to have something to do with her hands. “Oops.” 

Alya’s frown deepened. 

“What? It’s no big deal,” Marinette defended, though she wasn’t even sure why she felt the need. “We just...thought we’d like to see each other again.” 

Alya looked troubled for a moment, and then grinned. “It was that good, huh?”

“Well—” Marinette squirmed in her seat again. “It was fine, okay? He just...seemed nice.” 

“Uh huh.”  

“It was your idea anyway!” Marinette pointed out defensively.

“My idea was for you to go out and get buzzed and enjoy being drooled over,” Alya grinned. “You decided to get hammered and then get laid all on your own. I hope you’re satisfied .” 

Marinette couldn’t cover the silly smile that wanted to come up at that, but when Alya snickered, Marinette shook herself back to reality and sighed. “It was probably my imagination making things better than they were. I was feeling pretty down last night and I did have a lot to drink. And it has, you know. Been a while.”

“Maybe started seeing through beer goggles?” Alya teased. “Not that I blame you, I thought he was pretty cute when you were dancing, but I’d had a few myself by then too. Not your usual type, but it’s good to branch out.”

Marinette blushed. She didn’t want to tell Alya that while her memories of the evening were hazy, she remembered Luka in the morning very clearly, not only the lines of his body but the broadness of his back beneath her arms as she clung to him, the ripple of the muscles tensing and releasing against her as he moved, the dark intensity of his eyes and the way they fluttered closed when she did something he liked. 

She picked up her water glass and took a long gulp. No, she hadn’t needed the liquor to be attracted to him. Not at all. 

Still. She wasn’t exactly thinking clearly, even now. “Watch,” Marinette sighed, setting the glass down. “The date’ll be a bust and that’ll be the end of it. We probably won’t have anything to say to each other and we’ll exchange awkward texts for a few days and then we’ll never speak again.” 

“Hmm,” Alya raised her eyebrows. “We’ll see. It’s fine if you want to have fun, Marinette, you sure as hell could use some. Just be careful, always use protection, and don’t let him take any nudes.”

Marinette blushed deeply, and bit into her croissant. “Thanks so much for your concern,” she muttered around the mouthful. 

***

Marinette knew she was in trouble as soon as she locked eyes with Luka and her stomach started doing somersaults. The slow smile he gave her was so distracting that she barely heard his greeting, or the compliment that followed. She didn’t remember putting her hand in his, it was just there, his fingers rubbing lightly over her knuckles. They hadn’t even made it to the restaurant when Luka tugged her into a shadowed corner and kissed her in that slow, purposeful way he had. His voice surprised her a little, smoother than it had been, without the roughness of hard usage, but, she found, just as seductive. Any resistance Marinette might have had crumbled the second he turned them out of the light and breathed may I ? against her lips. 

When they did finally make it to their table, Luka was just as easygoing as he’d been on their first...night, and he meant it when he said he wanted to get to know her. He asked her questions, and seemed interested in what she said, even when she babbled, watching her with a quietly amused smile. He was interesting, too, telling her about his travels for the past year with his band. They had a surprising number of tastes in common. His eyes were fixed on her whenever she spoke, and he was touching her whenever he got the chance, taking her hand or playing with her fingers, brushing her hair back or letting his hand rest on her shoulder. Despite the kisses they shared whenever one of them couldn’t help themselves, his touch didn’t feel like seduction, just tenderness. Marinette felt like the center of his world, and after so long living on the sidelines of someone else’s life, she reveled in it. 

They were laughing as he walked her home.

“You did not,” Marinette gasped, one hand over her mouth and the other curled around Luka’s arm. 

“We totally did. What can I say, it was a full moon and my best friend is crazy.” Luka shrugged, and grinned while Marinette laughed.

“Wait, so are you a werewolf?” Marinette asked teasingly, as they approached the awning of her building.

“No,” Luka chuckled. “Unless you’re into that. If so, I can see what arrangements I can make for the next full moon.”

“You’d get bitten by a werewolf for me?” Marinette giggled. “How sweet.”

“I’d rather be bitten by you,” Luka teased back, and his hand found her hip, and her arms came up around his neck, and then they were kissing. Heat welled up in her, making her push up against him. Luka made a sound low in his throat and his hands slid to her lower back, pressing her closer. Oh, she wanted him, and by the feel of him he wanted her too, and…

Well. There really wasn’t any point in denying their mutual desire, was there. Marinette pulled away to press her lips along his jaw, and he made that sound again as he tilted his head for her. 

“Do you want to come upstairs?” Marinette asked, toying with his collar. “My roommate’s out of town tonight, so we won’t be, um...bothering anybody.” 

“I’d love to,” Luka told her, voice deepening. “I’d hate for you to be lonely, all by yourself.”

“Oh, I can entertain myself,” Marinette said daringly, looking up at him through her lashes. “I have an excellent imagination. There’s definitely advantages to having the real you here, though.” 

“Play your cards right and I’m sure we can manage the best of both worlds.” Luka bent and kissed the join of her neck and shoulder, sucking hard enough to make her shudder. “You can start with telling me how you imagine we get upstairs. Are we making out in the elevator or am I chasing you up the stairs?” 

“Elevator,” Marinette sighed, head tilting as he retraced his favorite route up her neck. “I don’t want to wear your legs out just yet.” She paused to consider. “Maybe you could chase me that far, though.” 

Luka pressed another long, slow kiss to her mouth. “Then you’d better run,” he told her, grinning playfully. “I won’t be responsible for what happens when I catch you.” They both giggled, and then Marinette broke away, running for the building doors. Luka darted after her, staying just at her heels, sweeping her up in his arms just in time to carry her through the elevator doors. Marinette spared a brief moment to wonder what she was doing, being so bold, and in sight of the entire lobby, too, but Luka grinned at her, and she forgot to care. Marinette leaned over him to press the button for her floor, and then forgot everything but his mouth under hers. 

Later, when they said a lingering goodbye at her door, and he asked her if she’d like to go out again, she didn’t even hesitate before agreeing. She’d figure out a way to explain it to Alya later.

Fiction Master Post

[fic-for-fic-sake]

Playing with Fire

Pairing: Loki x reader

Warning: Slight foreplay but not even

A/N: This is not at all somewhat loosely inspired by events happening in my everyday life...shut up. 

You, Wanda, and Nat decided to have a girls night. In a team full of male ego’s, sometimes the testosterone got too strong to bear so you three called in a girls night. It wasn’t the typical slumber party vibes you had seen in the movies. Instead of makeovers and candy it was sparring and wine. The two weren’t exactly meant for each other but with enhanced individuals getting drunk was pretty much off the table anyway. 

You were in the middle of throwing knives at Wanda, who was expertly dodging them, while Nat was going on about her latest mission with Clint. 

“I mean it was fine but it wasn’t Budapest, you know?” She complained between reps. You chuckled under your breath and Nat clocked it. “What?” 

“Nothing, nothing. It’s just, I may have made a tiny little drinking game.” You explained, going over to the wine bottles and taking a swig to emphasize your point. “Every time you bring up Budapest I take a drink.” 

“I don’t bring it up that much.” She fired back. 

Wanda gave her a pointed look, not even having to open her mouth to say where she stood on the matter. 

“Fine,” Nat began, “if you guys have to drink when I mention Budapest then I get to drink when Y/N talks about Loki.” 

You instantly regretted bringing up the drinking game. You coughed a bit as wine got caught in the wrong pipe. “I do NOT talk about him that much.” All it took was another pointed look from Wanda to know that that was complete and utter bullshit. 

“Yeah but that’s different because I’m not in a relationship with Loki.” 

“But you want to be.” Wanda noted, taking the wine bottle from your hands and drinking a long pull, winking at you as she did. 

“Whether I want it or not is irrelevant.” You insisted, suddenly wishing you could steer the conversation into literally any other direction. 

“And why is that?” Nat asked, coming over to where you and Wanda stood and arching a crimson eyebrow at you. 

“Because, Loki is, he’s…” 

“Bad news.” Wanda offered at the same time Nat said “Trouble.” 

“Exactly.” You confirmed. “So whatever feelings I may or may not have will promptly be shoved down into the very darkest corner of my mind until they simply cease to exist.” 

“How has that worked for you in the past?” Nat inquired. 

“It’s worked out just fine, thank you very much.” 

“And how many relationships have you been in?” Wanda questioned. 

“None.” You replied automatically. “Fuck.” 

Sensing your not-so-inner turmoil Wanda gave you back the bottle of wine which you proceeded to polish off. 

“He doesn’t even pay attention to me anyway.” You tried to justify to them. 

“Didn’t you guys talk for like two hours last Wednesday?” Wanda pointed out. 

“Yeah, we did, it was actually a really nice conversation.” You recalled. 

You had been sitting in the library reading when Loki walked in, looking stunning in what he considered to be casual clothes, which had been laughable. While his forest green tunic and tailored black pants had certainly been a step down from his battle armor, it was a far cry from casual, at least by mortal standards. 

He had asked what book you were reading which then led to a discussion about the different types of Midardian literature and the crossovers with Asgardian books. And that had lent itself to him offering to give you some Asgardian books so you could see if you liked them or not. True to his word, later that night you found a stack of four books sitting outside your door with a note from Loki telling you that he had enchanted them to automatically translate from Asgardian to English.

“So...how can you say he doesn’t pay attention to you?” Nat asked, rolling her eyes as if you were oblivious to the attention he had given you. Which, of course, you weren’t. You had finished two of the books already and were chomping at the bit to tell Loki what you thought of them. But there was only one problem. 

“He hasn’t spoken to me since.” You confessed, feeling suddenly very small and stupid. 

“That doesn’t make sense...not even a word?” Wanda asked, so gently you thought your heart would shatter. 

“But see, it does make sense. Because this is what he does. He’ll talk to me and make me feel like I’m the only person in the world and then he’ll fuck off for God knows how long and swoop in just as I’m giving up hope that he’ll ever speak to me again. He has me on his hook and he knows it. But none of that even matters.” 

“Because you’re shoving your feelings down?” Nat offered. 

“Yes, and because he has a girlfriend.” You said, feeling your heart sink as the weight of your words hit you. It’s not like you had expected anything to happen between you two but him being in a relationship was like closing a door you never expected to be open to you to begin with. It hurt and you hated to admit that it hurt and you hated him for making it hurt. 

“Yeah, I had heard Thor talking about Loki and Sygn earlier. How do you feel?” Wanda asked, handing you another bottle of wine. 

“Fine, I feel fine. I literally couldn’t care less.” You lied as you pried the cork out of the bottle and drank a good portion before giving it to Nat. “Okay, enough about me, let’s hear about everyone else.” 

And that was that. For the next few months Loki kept up his sporadic contact with you but he had a girlfriend and you weren’t about to make an even bigger fool of yourself than you probably already had. So you stopped expecting him to talk to you. Stopped sitting straighter when he walked into a room and stopped being disappointed when he didn’t notice you. 

Four months after your girls night with Nat and Wanda there was a Friday night get together with the whole team, Tony’s idea. He said it would be good for bonding. You had gotten the text when you were on your way back from a date. Nothing much, just a casual meet up in Central Park, nothing to write home about. She was fine. A pretty blonde with soft brown eyes and a good laugh but that was it. She was fine. She wasn’t what you were looking for, who you were looking for. As soon as the thought entered your head you promptly shoved it away. He was taken and you just needed to go on a date with someone different that was all. 

You looked at your appearance in the elevator mirror on the ride up. You considered changing out of your light blue floral sundress before the gathering with the team but it appeared it wasn’t meant to be as you could already hear voices bleeding through the doors before they opened. 

You walked out to a mock whistle from Sam which made you dip into a mock bow before you made your way to the kitchen island and fixed yourself a drink. 

“That bad?” Nat smiled as you took a swig of the gin and tonic. 

“It was fine.” You replied, shrugging. “I have another tomorrow so we’ll see.” 

“Another what?” Thor called from the couch, his hand around a glass of amber liquid that you suspected was something much stronger than scotch. 

“Another date!” Nat called out in reply, smiling encouragingly at you. 

“Was the one today not satisfactory?” Thor questioned. 

You rolled your eyes, “it was Fine. Honestly both of you it was fine.” 

“Don’t worry doll, you’re not the only one in the dating game.” Bucky said from the fridge, grabbing himself another beer. 

“Bucky, if you’re about to tell me that you and Steve broke up I will believe that love is truly dead.” 

“Not us doll.” He shook his head and tried and failed to hide his amusement. 

“Then who?” You were very confused and nobody was making things any easier on you. 

“Me.” The voice came from behind you and it chilled you to the bone. You turned to find Loki leaning against the wall fixing the cufflinks on his black suit. His demeanor showed a complete lack of interest but the way his emerald eyes held you in place had a predatory grace that both excited and scared you. 

Loki had been gone for a month on a diplomatic mission and you had heard nothing from him in the meantime. It had been so easy to put him out of your mind, but now you wondered how you could have thought of anything but him. 

“Oh.” Was all you could bring yourself to say. As your heart sped up to a gallop and heat flooded through your body at the way he was looking at you. He shouldn’t be looking at you like that, he had just said he broke up with his girlfriend. You shouldn’t want him to be looking at you like that, you had moved on, hadn’t you? Apparently your body hadn’t gotten the message from your head yet, stupid body. 

One hour and two drinks later you were all sitting around the large kitchen table, each absorbed in their own conversations. You were talking to Tony and Bruce and Loki was in a conversation with his brother but he was only half listening. The other part of him kept sneaking glances at you and you could feel his eyes on your body like a physical touch. After you caught his eye one too many times you excused yourself to the bathroom. You needed to get a hold of yourself. 

You didn’t need this selective attention bullshit again. You couldn’t do it. You couldn’t stand spending hours talking to each other one day only for him to not speak to you for days on end after. No, you looked at yourself in the bathroom mirror and resolved yourself to go back out there and not care. Not to feel his glances on you, not to acknowledge his presence, not to speak to him or play into his games like a fool. Because you weren’t a fool. Pep talk done, you unlocked the door and walked straight into a wall of black. 

You startled and tried to push yourself away only to feel slender arms wrap around your waist and legs walk you back into the bathroom. You managed a few paces back and found yourself looking into Loki’s eyes. They really were the most magnificent shade of green. Damnit. 

“Loki, what are you doing here?” You asked, still too stunned to wonder why he backed you into the bathroom. 

“I’ve been gone for a month and that’s the question you ask me?” He leaned against the door, folded his arms over his chest, and crossed one slender leg over the other. Fuck him for being so attractive right now. 

“You don’t get to do that.” You stated, leafing through your emotions until you found one that suited you, anger. You were angry with him for having you on his hook, angry with him for his sense of entitlement, and angry with him for being attractive. To be fair, the last one wasn’t really his fault. 

“Do what?” He asked, like he really didn’t know what he was doing. 

“You don’t get to go literal months without speaking to me and then demand why I’m not talking to you when you’ve been back all of two hours.” 

“Actually I got home last week.” He replied coolly, pushing off of the door and taking a step closer to you. You rebuffed his advance by taking a step backwards. 

“Thank you for proving my point to me.” 

“What point?” 

“Don’t be obtuse.” You chided. “You’ve been home a week now, haven’t sought me out at all in that time mind you, but now you’re upset that I didn’t speak to you?” 

“I broke up with Sygn.” He said, taking another step towards you, and you took one back in kind. 

“So I’ve heard.” 

“I’ve missed you.” He crooned, advancing towards you until your back was forced against the counter top. 

“And what, exactly, have you missed?” You replied hotly. “Ignoring me until the last possible moment? Making me look pathetic for wanting even a scrap of your attention?” 

He took his thumb and index finger, placed them on your chin, and tilted it up at the same time he lowered his head to your shoulder. 

“Come now darling, I don’t think you’re pathetic.” He breathed into the crook of your neck. Your pulse skyrocketed as your breath hitched and you let out a whimper. Your nails dug into the marble counter in an effort to keep from touching him the way you wanted. To keep from running your fingers through his thick black locks. 

“Loki, I can’t do this.” You pleaded in a whisper even as his hands came to settle on your waist, even as he lifted you effortlessly onto the counter top and stood squarely between your legs, making your dress ride up to your mid thighs. 

“Can’t do what?” He questioned, placing feather light kisses along the column of your throat as his hands moved slowly up your newly exposed thighs. 

You tried to steady yourself even as you felt the throbbing need between your legs and his own need pressed against you. 

“Being near you is like playing with fire, and pretty soon I’m going to get burned.” You huffed, caught between wanting him to stop and wanting him to continue, oh please God continue. 

“Oh pet, haven’t you heard?” He questioned, bringing his lips a hair's breadth away from yours, “I’ve more an affinity for ice.”

[thedevillionaire]

The Twentieth

Okay. ~5,000 words of Underworldian stuff that happens. Well, primarily one thing, really, but not all at the same time. Sort of. Ask me anything, thank you so very much for reading, and...well, here we go.

--- This was not at all how he’d planned for the day of their anniversary to unfold.

In the back of his mind, in corners he’d quite deliberately not lingered for a moment longer than absolutely necessary, he’d known that trouble was possibly oncoming as early as the night before last, the descending fog of nascent illness as recognisable as it was unwelcome. But it had been…at least a year, perhaps close to two, since he’d last felt this way, and he was hoping that he was wrong, and that what were seeming like potential signs of bad news weren’t actually signs at all.

They were.

Cerberus sniffled.

It wasn’t supposed to go like this. He’d tried, he really had. Discounting those signs as unimportant even as he took precautions because of them, he’d risked nothing, pushed his luck with nothing. He’d even gone to bed several hours earlier than usual last night, and fallen asleep almost immediately on top of that. Unlike his bonded, who’d had a late night and come home at some uncertain hour from one of those social catch-up things she so enjoyed that he was…less inclined towards, even in times when he was feeling entirely well – not that he’d given that as the reason for his disinclination to participate, of course.

Hardly relevant, anyway.

And he’d slept soundly enough that he’d not woken to notice her join him – in fact, he’d been so sapped of energy that from the moment the warmth of the hearth and bedcovers enveloped him, he was out – which just made it all the more ominous that he’d woken feeling like he’d got no rest at all, bone-tired as if no respite had been granted, with a constant, dull headache that so far had refused to resolve, and yesterday’s mild discomfort at the back of his throat sharpening significantly into an active and intrusive concern.

Getting caught in that ridiculous downpour on the way here wouldn’t have helped matters either, he thought bitterly. Although brief, it had been intense, and sudden, and heavy, and though the mercy of Teleport could not have been a more welcome escape, the short time spent in headblurry indecision about whether or not he should utilise it had nonetheless been long enough that his coat had been soaked through. The refuge of the radiant heat of his Office was helping somewhat, at least, and most of his clothing had dried by now – though his hair, which he’d tied back with a loose bow of slender black velvet ribbon to keep errant strands from his face, was still noticeably and uncomfortably damp against his neck. Less so than had he left it unbound, but still…

If he’d ever regretted choosing to walk rather than taking the lazy option before – gods, the damn irony of thinking that the walk would possibly benefit him tonight, of all things – he was sure he’d not regretted it as much as he did right now.

He sniffled again.

Fuck.

---

Closing the folder of Requiem’s surprisingly competently done assignment, he sighed and added it to the small stack of completed works, vaguely wondering if he’d been too generous with the grading. Although he knew the content backwards and could in fact get away with paying very little serious attention, his mind was nevertheless, for the most part, almost entirely on other things.

This was supposed to be the night where, once respective regular mundanities and commitments were out of the way, he would take his beloved to indulge in whichever of the things she most loved to indulge in while on a Visit, utterly at her behest, and completely guilt-free for her with no mandated set goal to achieve, no limitations on immersion, no regulations at all; just an unscheduled and spontaneous trip to the mortal plane, a high-end cocktail bar all dress codes and decadence, and a veritable array of delicious, oblivious Takings there for her pleasure – ahh, darkling, a smorgasbord! – all eyes upon her because nobody, not in the Underworld and certainly no mortal, can compare, and despite his usual personal antipathy towards bothering with the mortal realm, he knew of certain excellences all the same, and he’d put his own preferences aside and simply present her with the glories and spoils she deserved, watch her dance from the shadows and delight in it.

Darkling, I will give you the world.

He’d had every intention of doing precisely that.

And it was also really starting to feel like he was definitely not going to…not going to let this happen, damn it. You’ll be fine, stop putting unnecessary emphasis on transient discomfort, it’s nothing, you know these things pass, just…

He sniffled again, more sharply this time, claimed another tissue and blew his nose, trying to disregard how doing so did nothing much to stop the continuing drip and irritation.

Just get on with it. Honestly. Vaporising the tissue, he took another sip of the honeyed tea that wasn’t doing nearly as much to counteract the sting in his throat as he’d hoped it would, and returned his attention to the job at hand. He noted with distaste as he opened the new folder that yet again it seemed that Hellion hadn’t bothered to proofread the simplest of…

Oh gods.

His breath caught, thoughts ceased, focus helplessly crumbling.

“Hh-hh…”

He rolled his eyes at the inevitability of it, and grabbed another tissue, and another, as the insistent need made itself unstoppably and urgently known.

“Hh-TSCHH-uu! *snff!* Huh-TSSCHH-uu!”

Therion, across the room and in the midst of cataloguing a stupidly confusing array of recently rediscovered and yet unsorted secondgen scrolls, glanced back over his shoulder at Cerberus briefly. “Gesundheit,” he commented offhand, not remotely surprised by this development. Given the constant sniffling that had been going on for the last couple of hours or so, he’d pretty much been expecting that to happen sooner or later. No matter how infrequently the Demon king may catch cold, symptoms were symptoms. Sounding like shit there, boss, he thought, but decided against voicing it.

Cerberus managed a quick thankyou before the demanding urge once again overtook him, and he inhaled deeply, desperately, the force of the sneeze almost doubling him over.

“hhh-AHHTSSCHHUU!”

Therion glanced over again. “You okay, man?”

Cerberus, with a strong sniffle, cleared his throat and made an incidental sound of dismissal. “Mm, fine,” he murmured, which he knew at this point was a complete lie, his head pounding. “Pardon me.” He blew his nose, sniffling again immediately. Ugh. “It’s, um…it’s nothing.”

He returned his attention to Hellion’s paper.

It was, however, no matter his assurance, becoming undeniably something.

Fuck.

---

The hours had somehow simultaneously dragged and flown by, some goals achieved, others – and, to be honest, the ones he’d most been counting on – unfortunately not so.

Cerberus sighed heavily, put aside the last of the assignments he’d reviewed, and, having had quite enough of honeyed tea for one day, poured himself a substantial glass of cognac from the decanter on his desk.

On the plus side, he’d got through a decent amount of the papers, all things considered. On the minus, though, his oncoming cold, rather than resolving into the insignificance he’d hoped for, had instead settled in undeniably, pouring into his head like cement, and he pressed the back of his hand firmly against his nose with enough force for pain to overtake irritation. He vaporised yet another bunch of used tissues, sniffling again, and tried to take his mind off Kia and what she might be thinking, expecting, dreaming, anticipating…

..and what he feared he was not going be able to deliver.

Acceptance of such, however, was still not something he was willing to entertain quite yet.

Damn it, it’s one night. Surely you can at least delay this ridiculousness for one more night. With a lengthy, determined sniffle and heavy exhalation, Cerberus, elbow on desk and hand against forehead, lost himself in a mix of annoyance and self-pity for a moment before an intense rising fury at the situation overtook it, and he frowned, sat up straighter, and drained the glass of cognac entirely.

Do. Better.

With a brief shake of his head, he rubbed his nose and opened the next assignment in the pile, read the name. Ah, Cenotaph, he noted with a slight satisfaction. Shouldn’t be dreadful. Although he nearly always…

His thoughts were jarringly interrupted by the intrusive ring of the telephone, and despite him dearly wishing he could palm this off to Therion, the phone was on the desk, and proximity demanded he be the one to answer. And to make matters worse – apparently that’s possible, and of course it is – he could feel the rising, inexorable need to sneeze again.

No. This is not happening. Just… The idea of being defeated by such a simple, base physical weakness infuriating, he sniffled with sharp determination, crushing a hand clutching a tissue against his nose, and answered the call.

“Demonics.”

Aera took a moment. “Cerbie? Okay, wow. What are you doing in Office?”

I…work here? Cerberus couldn’t quite parse what her intention was, what sort of answer she was expecting. Was that rhetorical, or…? “I don’t… What do you…” He sniffled again, his breath catching momentarily, but he fought the urge back once more, and tried to concentrate on the matter at hand. “What?”

“‘Debodics’,” Aera said in mimicry of the congestion destroying his consonants, her tone flippant and biting at the same time.

Frowning in annoyance, his patience worn thin enough as it was, and in no mood to engage, Cerberus snarled a curt, “I’m fine,” and wiped his nose.

Aera scoffed. “You’re seriously going the denial route? Hate to break it to you, but you sure don’t sound fine.”

“Do you have a point?” Cerberus asked tersely, internally cursing his inability to comprehensively prove her wrong – not that she was necessarily wrong, but that was hardly the issue.

“Godssake, Cerbie, you’re such a…” Aera began, but recognised she was probably wasting her time and decided to just let it go. She knew his pattern with this sort of thing, and so she backed off a little – though by no means completely. “Okay, fine, alright, I could be wrong, maybe you’re not sick after all. So, you know, if you’ve been crying or punched in the face or something, go right ahead and clear that up for me.”

Cerberus, exasperated and increasingly distracted, just wanted an end to it all. “Damn it, Aera, can you please try to tear yourself away from the apparently fascinating state of my health for a moment and just tell me what the hell it is you want? *snf!* And you could be a bit more pleasant to me, you know,” he added pointedly. “It is my anniversary, after all.”

Aera gasped lightly in realisation, the date having escaped her notice completely. “Oh, shit, it is too! Ah, fuck, sorry, happy anniversary. But, no, anyway, this call does actually have a point. I think I might have left a scarf in your Office yesterday. Do you have it? It’s blue.”

You couldn’t have just asked that immediately? Cerberus glanced around the Office perfunctorily, not seeing anything of the kind. “N…” His breath caught again and he scrubbed his hand roughly under his nose, sniffling sharply, and took a moment before trusting himself enough to answer her. “No.”

“Really? What the hell have I done with it, then?” Aera wondered, partially to Cerberus but mostly to herself, before returning her attention to the conversation at hand. “Oh, and bless you.”

“What?” Cerberus frowned in confusion, his head clouded enough that he wasn’t entirely certain that he hadn’t missed or forgotten something that surely he ought not to have been able to miss or forget. “I…I didn’t sneeze.” It was…inescapably true that he needed to, but he’d not…

Aera chuckled briefly, quietly. “You will.”

She hung up.

The freedom afforded him by that disconnection, one staggered, desperate inhale was all it took. And in the moment, he didn’t even care that she’d been right. At this point he just wanted relief.

“hh-HH… Ahh-HEHTSSHhuu!”

“Gesundheit,” said Therion again, smiling grimly to himself. He usually minded his own business about this sort of thing – not that it came up much – and indeed still considered staying out of it altogether now. But he hadn’t known about the anniversary factor before, and playing substitute Leader for a few days was hardly the worst fate in the world, and if not tonight it was almost certainly going to come to that fate soon enough anyway, so…

He put the scrolls aside, walking over to stand opposite where Cerberus was seated at the desk. “Hey, man…”

“Huh-AHSSCHuu! *snf!*” Cerberus groaned. “Gods. Excuse me,” he murmured with a heavy sigh, his head and sinuses throbbing. He sniffled wetly, blew his nose, excused himself again, and looked up at Therion somewhat hazily. “Mm?”

Therion half-smiled, casual, non-committal. “Happy anniversary, dude. Didn’t mean to listen in or anything, just…you know. Overheard.”

A small smile of appreciative thanks crossing his face, Cerberus sniffled again and nodded in otherwise silent acknowledgement.

“Just a thought, though,” Therion continued. “If I had a choice between going home to my mad-hot bonded… How many years now, man?”

A heartbeat. An eternity.

“Twenty.”

“Fucking what?!” Therion stared at Cerberus as if he was out of his mind. “Fuck, man! Congrats and shit, but for real? If I had a choice between going home, like, immediately or staying in Office for a few more hours marking shit I could pretty easily get my Understudy to do, actually? I’d be out of here in a fucking microsecond. But, you know, you’re the boss, man. Do whatever. Just saying.” Reaching across the desk, he picked up Cenotaph’s paper and scanned its contents quickly. “I mean, this looks pretty good, I guess, but, you know, Kia probably looks better.” He grinned as Cerberus gave a dark smile in response, and paused only for a short time, but enough that the pause be noted. “Seriously. You know she’d spoil the fuck out of you.”

Cerberus sighed again, regret, bitterness and castigating self-reproach evident in his eyes beneath a haze of sickness he really could no longer deny. Yes, I know, of course I know, but... “The spoiling really was suppo… hh-HH…” He hastily took another few tissues from the box, burying his face in them just in time to catch another fierce sneeze he had no chance of stopping. “AHHTSCHUU! Goddamnit. Pardon me.” He wiped his nose, sniffling again immediately – disturbingly liquid, entirely ineffectual, and with a weariness behind it that he could not disguise. Looking back up at Therion, he returned to his point. “I’d really intended the providing of spoils to be my job tonight. And this…utter ridiculousness—” He made a vague gesture towards his face. “—was supposed to have improved, not worsened, damn it.”

With another heavy sigh, disappointment palpable, he capitulated. “I don’t suppose you keep any cold medication in Office, do you?”

“Sorry.” Therion shook his head. “Go the fuck home, man. I got this.”

Standing, Cerberus nodded briefly in reply, giving Therion a firm pat on the shoulder as he passed by. “Thank you,” he said quietly, and vanished.

---

And naturally half the damn Underworld seems to be here.

Well, he most certainly was not going to queue.

Ignoring the mixture of hushed mutterings and soft gasps from the others in the Healing centre – none of whom he recognised but it was evident from the expressions on the faces of the…many people staring at him that the reverse was not the case – Cerberus walked to the front of the line with only the most cursory of glances at those who he had no intention of waiting either for or behind, greeted Riviera at the front desk perfunctorily and, abruptly beyond caring to hear any more of the continuing intrusive sussurance, froze the entirety of the waiting room’s occupants under Stasis with a crisp wave of his hand.

Dear gods, shut up. I will set you all on fire and I won’t regret it for a second.

He sniffled strongly. “Aldiss, please,” he said to Riviera, who had already Mindsent the Healing Leader in anticipation of precisely that directive.

“On her way,” Riviera replied. She indicated the Stasis-held others. “Um, is that…are they…?”

“Entirely temporary, just expedient. I’ll undo it soon enough.”

Aldiss appeared beside Riviera at the desk, Mindsending her :Cover me for a bit. Room 5, burns, not serious, mostly dealt with already,: and Riviera duly vanished.

At a loss and clearly awaiting clarification, Aldiss turned her attention to Cerberus. “Alright, what are you doing here?”

Cerberus frowned. Why is everywhere I am apparently a surprise tonight? “I’m ill, obviously. Why else would I be here? I need cold medication.” He sniffled again, as if in emphasis, though not intentionally so, and wiped his nose.

“Again? Already?”

Again? There IS no again. I literally just got here. What the hell is going on? Cerberus briefly wondered if he could be hallucinating this entire sequence of events, so little of it seemed to make any coherent sense. “What do you mean ‘already’?” He winced as his voice cracked, and he cleared his throat, which did little more than cause him a different kind of discomfort, a convulsive cough following in short order, his nose running again as a result. He sniffled sharply, repeatedly. Gods. For fuck’s sake. “Excuse me.”

“I’m not giving you anything more if you’ve taken the other lot already.”

“Damn it, Aldiss, do I sound like I’ve taken anything?!”

Aldiss did have to concede that point.

Thoroughly exasperated, Cerberus exhaled heavily in annoyance. “Why is everything always such an ordeal in this place?” And suddenly another strangeness occurred to him. “Wait – what other lot?

“The meds Kia picked up, obviously.”

“What?!” Cerberus, a fresh fear striking him – one he was entirely unprepared for, one that actually managed to distract him from his own discomforts for a moment – stared at Aldiss in unconcealed horror. “Kia’s unwell?!”

With a wry smile, Aldiss shook her head. “I swear I never personally get to experience it, but rumour has it you’re actually quite a clever man, Cerberus, so try and stay with me here, alright?” She looked at him with a certain sardonic encouragement. “The meds Kia picked up for you.”

Unfortunately, this didn’t make much more sense to him, if at all. “But what reason would…” He sniffled again. “Why would she do that?” He rubbed and wrinkled his nose against a building itch, took a tissue from the box on the desk, then another, and tried to stay focused.

Aldiss, in mildly amused bafflement that he could actually be this oblivious, stared at the Demon king as if he was a complete imbecile. “Because you’ve got a cold?”

Annoyance clearly evident despite the hitch in his breath, Cerberus frowned at her. “Yes, Aldiss, we’ve established that, but Ki…Kia doesn’t…” Ah, fuck. Bringing the tissues to his face as the itch became sharply definite, he turned away hurriedly. “Huh-ATSSCHH-uu!” He groaned, sniffling immediately, the force of the sneeze bringing to the fore anew the pulsing headache he’d almost, almostbeen able to forget, his breath still a little shaky as he excused himself. He claimed another tissue and wiped his nose, sniffling again, and took a moment before returning to his earlier point. “Kia doesn’t know about *snf!* this yet.”

“Yes, she most certainly does,” Aldiss countered. “What, you didn’t think she’d notice?”

“Well, of course she’d notice now, damn it, Aldiss,” said Cerberus in open irritation, “but I wasn’t nearly this…”

“Oh, for god’s sake, Cerberus. How long have you been together?”

“As it happens, it’s our twentieth anniversary tonight,” Cerberus replied, a bitter and rueful undertone unmissable despite increasing congestion, “which I am attempting not to completely ruin.” Another sharp sniffle. “Apparently a futile pursuit,” he muttered resentfully, and pressed the back of his hand against his nose in an attempt to see off a newly threatening, vibrantly insistent itch.

“Twenty years and you think she’d miss a thing? She knows you. She knows you really well. How do you not…”

“Ahh-HEHTSSHhuu!”

Aldiss sighed as Cerberus, thoroughly losing the battle, sneezed again, wetly and powerfully, and she passed him a handful of tissues as he murmured both an apology and a thankyou. Looking out at the significant number of people yet to be seen, she allowed him some necessary moments of recovery, then made her point. “Listen, I’m sorry you’ve managed to catch cold for your anniversary but you do have both medication and a devoted bonded waiting at home. Please go there. Kia’s probably wondering where the hell you are anyway, since – if I can I remind you – she knows you’re sick. Oh, and you can undo your…stopping people in time thing or whatever it is now, too, thank you very much.”

“As always, Aldiss, it’s been a delight.” Releasing his Stasis hold with a short wave, the murmurs and mutterings picking up precisely where they’d been cut off as if there had never been a break, Cerberus turned his gaze briefly upon his unbidden rapt audience, disregarded them all equally, internally cursed himself for having even bothered to come to this ridiculous place, inclined his head in crisp farewell, and promptly vanished.

---

Leaning back against the loungeroom wall in weary resignation upon his Teleported arrival home, Cerberus stopped still, his attentions resolutely redirected in an instant at the entirely unexpected sight of his beautiful lifebonded reclining languorously across the couch, dressed – or almost dressed, it could technically be said – in diaphanous babydoll chemise and finest lace lingerie, soft brunette darkestness falling silkenwild around her shoulders, a vision of breathtaking boudoir fantasy he was quite thoroughly unprepared for, and he paused for a moment to simply gaze at her, enchanted.

:Darkling, you are perfection.:

Kia looked up slowly, and with a sultry, indulgent smile, dropped her book onto the coffee table and stretched before sitting up just a little, beckoning him to join her with crooked finger and open invitation.

“Took your time, sweetheart,” she said, gently teasing, and opened the bottle of cognac, pouring a glass for them both. “I’d almost decided to start without you.”

“Love, I…” Cerberus began but was torn from his words unstoppably, unable to do anything about the sudden, desperate need overtaking him, and, expression crumpling and focus destroyed, he had no choice but to give in to it. “Huh-TSCHH-uu! Ah-HEHTSCHuu!” He pardoned himself with haste, groaning quietly.

“Aw, bless you, hon. Come here.” Kia repeated her beckoning motion. She regarded him a moment, frowning in puzzlement. “Where’s your coat?” She’d not seen him leave the house this morning, but she was entirely certain he’d have worn one.

“Hmm? Oh, um…” Cerberus sniffled, wiped his nose and glanced down at himself, not having given any particular thought to his outfit – his standard fine linen shirt, brocade waistcoat, tailored black pants – since leaving Office.

Which was, of course, where he’d left his coat.

“Got rained on. Earlier, that is, not… A while ago, anyhow.” He sniffled again and tried to focus. “In Office. The coat, I mean, not where the…rain was.” He sighed in exasperation as anger at the situation overtook tiredness again. “Honestly, it would be nice if I could at least form a damn sentence!” Gods, what the hell is wrong with you. Get your damn shit together. “Sorry, love. I, um…used Teleport after that, though, so I’ve not really been outside since.”

“Well, coat or not, you were supposed to have given up and come home ages ago.” Kia laughed gently. “You know, like a normal person. Why are you always so stubborn about this stuff?” She caressed his face affectionately as he sat beside her, curled an arm around the back of his neck, and kissed him with warm promise. :And don’t you even dare say a word about not wanting to give your cold to me,: she Mindsent preemptively. :Yes, I know, no, I don’t care, and there is no way I’m not kissing you on our twentieth anniversary.:

“Anyway,” she continued in satin murmur, tracing a finger along the angular contours of his jawline and kissing him again, “you know I’ll spoil you.” She looked at him directly then, sapphire eyes narrowing in challenge. “You do know that, right?”

“I…” He did, but between the desire not to need her to – at least not tonight – and rather for him to be, as he’d so very much intended, the one fulfilling any fantasies, and the desire to just try and forget failed plans and expectations and immerse in her…frankly stunning sanctuary, and his head was far too clouded to explain himself right now, and technically he had left Office early anyway so he wasn’t that late really, especially considering he hadn’t realised that he’d been expected, but what did any of this even matter when this goddess before him was so…very… He sniffled again, claiming a tissue and wiping his nose firmly, and wished he was at least a little more functional because she was so incredibly breathtaking, and that was all he could think about in the moment, really, aside from feeling like he was fairly sure he was going to sneeze again – which, when combined with the first and…infinitely preferable reason that he couldn’t think straight, provided a particularly strange contradiction in where his attentions were directed, and now he couldn’t with certainty remember exactly what she’d asked him anymore, and she was just…gods, she was everything, and his head was a mess and he…definitely had to…

He blinked rapidly, his breath hitching in escalating intensity, and turned from Kia to bury his face in crooked elbow. Gods, fuck, just…

“Huh-TSSCHH-uu! Ahh-HUHTSSHhuu!”

The force of the sneezes combined with the pounding throb of sinus-heavy headache to set the room spinning, but despite that had done very little to quiet the insistent irritation he just could not seem to escape tonight. Another staccato breath and fuck ano… hh-HH ..another and a Mindsent apology because he was entirely unable to voice one, doubling over in thrall to desperate demand, powerful, possessing. “Hhuh-AHTSCHUU! Huh…hh-TSSCHH-uu!”

“Oh, sweetheart, bless you.” Kia indicated the medications she’d collected on the table, though she wasn’t sure there was much point, his ability to focus entirely and…mesmerisingly hijacked. “You should probably…”

Cerberus, with a brief shake of his head, held up a finger in a gesture indicating that she had to wait a moment, the relentless need not done with him yet, and he inhaled deeply, unable to do a thing about it other than succumb once more, and he sneezed again – undeniable, absolute, violently ferocious. “Hh-hhAAAHTSSCHHUU! ..uhh…” A quiet groan and he pressed the back of his hand against his nose, sniffling fiercely, more than a little breathless. “Damn. Sorry.”

“Wow, bless you!” Kia said with softriveted, emphatic appraisal, and flashed him a wickedwarm grin. “Impressive. You should get a prize for that kind of effort.”

“Gods, love.” Smiling wryly despite himself, Cerberus managed a brief disbelieving laugh before having no choice but to give in to sharpburning sensation, his breath catching abrupt, deep, jagged, pleading. “hh-h-huh-TSCHH-uu! Huh-TSSCHH-uu! *snf!* Huh… huhhTSSCHHUU! For fuck’s sake! *SNFF!* Ugh, sorry.” Sniffling repeatedly, he excused himself again with clear irritation even as Kia offered him a tender blessing. He took a fresh multitude of tissues from the box and blew his nose, muttering under his breath that in any reasonable world he’d get to kill at least one person over this, and if…

“Oh, look!” announced Kia with cheery brightness, breaking into his thoughts and picking up one of the medication vials. “You win drugs.” She handed the vial to Cerberus with a kiss to his cheek, effectively short-circuiting his rising fury at the situation, and trailed a languid hand down the length of his arm, dropped her voice to a sultry purr. “I’ll even throw in the glamorous assistant.” She semi-curtseyed, winked in play.

With a soft laugh and a sigh both appreciative and self-effacing, Cerberus accepted and took the meds as proffered, curling an arm across Kia’s shoulders, drawing them closer together, and leant his head against hers, Mindsending a heartfelt, sincere :I adore you.:

“I’m so sorry, darkling.” He ran an index finger under his nose, sniffled quietly, exhaled with dismayed heaviness at the thought of having let his beloved down, in any way. “I really did mean to give you everything you desire tonight.” He sat back again; smiled at her, a little sadly. “And I truly do wish to bring you the world you deserve. All the worlds, come to that.”

“Oh, sweetheart, I know. And I know that you’re, like…literally able to do it, which still just amazes me and will forever, I swear, you’re incredible, but…really, you don’t need to be disappointed. See, I want you—” Shifting her position smoothly, Kia moved to sit on his lap, her legs astride his, and caressed his face in her hands, kissing him with passion burning. “Mmm. I want you—” Another kiss. “—to think for just a minute—” And another. “—from a different view.” Reaching behind his head, she untied the velvet ribbon constraining his hair, allowing it in release to cascade over his shoulders. She wove a gentle hand through freed midnight, tucked a few stray strands behind his ear. “If things were reversed, if I was the one who’d come home sick tonight, what would you have done?”

Cerberus chuckled wryly, softly, as he recognised her viewpoint. He didn’t pretend otherwise. “Anything you wanted, love, as always.”

Kia gave him a knowing smile. “Mm-hm.”

Wrapping her arms around him, she kissed him again, slower, deeper. “So, then, babe,” she purred, tracing a trail of kisses down his neck, shoulders, chest, “you should know that you are everything I desire, everything I dream of, and the only way you could ever let me down is to not be with me tonight, and now I am going to order you into the bedroom and you are going to do exactly what I say and that is pretty much what would have happened even with you in perfect health with your perfect plan, because you should know—” She broke off again, kissing him with a craving undeniable, abandoning speech for silksultry Mindsend.

:that all I want:

One hand now twining through his hair, the other first toying with then smoothly untying the topmost bows on her chemise, allowing it to fall away, and she pulled him closer to her again, deepening the kiss at his involuntary resulting moan.

:is…this.:

Another kiss and her hand reaching down, loosening clothing and caressing him to urgency, and he moaned again, curling one arm around her waist and another behind her head, holding her around him and returning her kiss with a fire straight from his soul, feeling her breath quickening, demanding, as she pushed back against him, heat rising. A soft growl, a gasp, a sharp inhalation as they joined together, and she met her beloved’s famed emerald gaze eye to eye, consummate, profligate, incendiary.

“Oh, and sweetheart? Tonight I am going to make you wish you caught cold more often.”

---

[iceeckos12]

Prompt: Jongerrymartin but make it noir.

HI PIT. this was probably not what you were expecting, but hope you enjoy *jazz hands* this is current jongerry, pre-jgm

please let me know if i should tag anything!

Martin stared up at the faded gold lettering painted on the door, wiping a clammy palm against the fabric of his trousers. The other gripped his manila folder tightly, refusing to loosen his grip for even a second, not after all the trouble he’d gone through to get it.

Delano & Sims, the words read. Private Detectives.

He’d talked to one of them over the phone yesterday, a man with an achingly posh accent, who’d said to come at precisely fourteen hundred hours and not a moment later. That clipped, dry tone had almost been enough to scare him off, but...no, he needed this too much to run away.

Martin took a deep breath, and knocked.

“Come in,” a voice called, and he pushed inside.

The first thing he noticed were the swirls of cigarette smoke so thick that the weak light overhead glowed a thin silver. His eyes immediately began to water at the intensity of the smell, and he desperately wanted to bury his nose in his collar.

There was an exasperated sigh from one shrouded corner of the room, and then, “Christ—Jon, open the window, would you?”

“Oh, right, sorry,” There was a clatter as the blinds lifted, and then a solid thunk, and suddenly fresh air and natural light was pouring through the open window, throwing the room in stark relief.

“Sorry about that,” the man next to the window said, leaning heavily on a handsome wooden cane. He was just a wisp of a thing, dressed in a sweater vest like he was some sort of professional academic, with salt and pepper grey hair and dark, keen eyes. “Forgot we had someone coming.”

This must be the person I talked to over the phone, Martin realized. Sims.

“Do me a favor and try not to kill our clients, Jon.” He quickly turned to look at Delano—who else could it be?—who was stepping away from the fan now juddering to life, swirling the quickly dissipating smoke. It was almost startling how different the two partners were; where Sims was thin and short, Delano was tall and wiry, with inky black hair and cool, gunmetal eyes. The weathered leather trench coat and chunky boots had obviously seen some better days.  “We need all the ones we can get.”

Martin’s face flushed as he was struck by how unfairly attractive these two people were.

“Duly noted,” Sims drawled, limping over to the heavy desk stacked high with papers. He set the cane aside and propped himself against it with a quiet sigh, then gestured toward one of the ratty looking chairs. “Take a seat, Mr. Blackwood.”

Martin shifted uncomfortably. “Oh, I don’t…”

“No need to stand on decorum, not around here.” Delano pointedly plopped into the chair behind the desk, grin wide and toothy. “Jon just likes to pretend that we’re more professional than we actually are.”

“We’re professional,” Sims protested, sounding deeply offended. “Just...unorthodox.”

“Well, alright,” Martin said, and lowered into the surprisingly comfortable chair.

Delano cleared his throat. “Right. So what brings you to us, Mr. Blackwood?”

Martin thought for a moment, not wanting to speak rashly, or to give away anything too personal. “Well, I’ve heard rumors that you two are capable of...discretion, so to speak, and I would prefer that this doesn’t get spread around.”

“Ah.” Sims’ eyes quickly flicked up and down his body, one eyebrow raising. “Out of curiosity, can I ask who referred you to us?”

“Tim Stoker?” Martin shuffled. “He said that you helped him out of a similar bind not too long ago.”

Sims and Delano glanced at each other, their eyebrows doing a complicated little dance, though what information could’ve been conveyed through such a medium, Martin had no clue. They turned to look at him again in unison, expressions very serious.

“When you say similar…” Delano trailed off.

Martin immediately shook his head. “Oh, nothing to do with the Circus. I’m not stupid enough to get involved with them after what happened with Tim and his brother.”

They both relaxed immediately.

“That’s good for you,” Delano told him. “We’ve run afoul of Nikola and her merry band far too many times for comfort. If you’d said you’d gotten on her bad side, I’m afraid we would’ve had to ask you to leave.”

Martin glanced at Sims, who was staring very hard at his feet, then Delano, who was observing him calmly, patiently, the way a bird of prey sights down a mouse. “Oh.”

“Quite,” Sims murmured.

“Anyway,” Delano gave a wide, grandiose gesture. “Please. Why have you come to us?”

The manila folder suddenly felt very, very heavy, and he fiddled with one of the corners, rubbing the material between his fingers. “Well...I work for this, um, this shipping company. I mostly do busywork, administrative tasks, that sort of thing. It’s not very glamorous, but it—it pays really well, despite the company being kind of small.” Martin traced the grain of the paper with one finger. “I think it handles a lot of….specialty items.”

“And the name of this company?” Sims asked, pen poised over the little notebook he’d appeared from seemingly nowhere.

Anxiety plummeted his stomach into his toes. “I’m sorry, but I don’t feel comfortable giving away that information.”

Delano’s eyebrows rose. “Discretion, remember? Besides, we’ll need to know if we’re going to be able to help you.”

“If we decide to help you,” Sims muttered.

Martin took a few fortifying breaths, swallowing the nausea down. “Right,” he murmured. “Right. It’s, um...Tundra shipping company? Run by Mr. Peter Lukas.”

Sims went very, very still, pen poised above his notebook, expression fixed like it’d been molded into his face. Delano loomed forward, the gunmetal of his eyes gleaming like the sun reflecting off of a loaded barrel. “Is that so?”

Martin glanced toward Sims, wondering at his demeanor, then turned back to Delano and nodded. “Yeah. You two—you know him?”

“Do we.” Delano let out a dry chuckle. “Continue.”

“Right.” Martin shook his head. “Well, one day I was doing some bookkeeping, just...routine stuff, you know? But I noticed something off with the numbers, like...really wrong. And I double checked my math several times just to make sure, but…” he swallowed. “I think that someone may be cooking the books, or...or something. I don’t know.

“Anyway, I went back the next day but the numbers had been changed, and—and Mr. Lukas called me into his office and said some really weird stuff that I think may have been a threat? It was hard to tell.” Martin shook his head, biting his lip. “There’s been other stuff, too. Contracts with companies that I know don’t exist, visitors at odd hours. I think something really rotten is going on, but I don’t think that I can handle it myself.”

Delano and Sims shared an unhappy look. Then Sims pushed away from the desk and began to circle the perimeter of the room, his eyebrows furrowing into a thunderstorm on his brow.

“We’d love to finally be able to pin something substantial on the bastard—on Lukas,” Delano said. “But insinuating those types of claims without a shred of evidence...that’s a nonstarter. We’re going to need a little bit more than that.”

“But I do have evidence?” Martin asked, lifting the manila folder. “I took photocopies of the pages, and notated where the discrepancies were.” He wrinkled his nose. “I wasn’t about to just write on official financial records. There’s also some of the weird contracts I was talking about. I kept copies of everything.”

Sims, who’d walked out of sight while Martin had been talking, suddenly appeared behind him, reaching for the folder. “Can I see?”

“Be careful with it, that’s the only copy,” Martin said nervously, but handed it over.

Sims walked back over to the desk, hopped up on the edge, and eagerly tipped the contents of the folder on the space between him and Delano. They quickly sifted through the papers, wordlessly handing things to each other like a seamless, well-oiled machine.

“This is good.” Delano’s voice was almost hushed, almost awed. “This is...really good, actually.”

“But you see why I can’t go to the police with this, right?” Martin twisted his hands fitfully. “You see why I need your help.”

“Of course not,” Sims said dismissively, though there was an eager gleam in his eyes. “The police are so deep in Lukas’ pocket you might as well have kissed your life goodbye if you’d gone to them.”

“Oh.” Martin swallowed, trying and failing to come up with anything more intelligent than that. “Oh.”

Delano drummed his fingers against the desk pensively. “Speaking of, it wouldn’t be a good idea to pursue this recklessly. We appreciate you bringing this to us, but it does put you in a significant amount of danger. Do you have friends or family outside the country you can stay with, Mr. Blackwood?”

“Um…” He had cousins in Poland, he was pretty sure. Whether or not they would take him in was another question entirely. “Possibly.”

Sims reluctantly gathered the papers up and slid them back into the manila folder, before holding it out. “Come back when you’ve got something lined up.”

Martin lifted a quelling hand as he got to his feet. “I’d...prefer you hold onto it, honestly. It’s probably safer with you.”

Sims blinked, then shrugged and set the folder back down. “I see.”

“We’ll be seeing you later, Mr. Blackwood.” Delano’s grin was a sharp, toothy thing. Despite its grimness, Martin found himself inexplicably comforted by it.

“Please,” he corrected before he could help himself. “Call me Martin.”

-0-

“So,” Gerry said, long after Martin had left and the excitement had faded. He filled a glass with some ice, then tipped a finger of whisky over the top. “What do you think?”

“I don’t trust him,” Jon said almost before Gerry had finished talking, accepting the glass with a quiet murmur of thanks. “It’s a bit too good to be true. After years of searching, someone just...emerges with hard evidence of Peter’s wrongdoings?” An incredulous snort. “I don’t think so.”

Gerry propped himself up against the edge of the desk, staring at the dark bags under his partner’s eyes, the cynical curve of his mouth. He looked exhausted. “You never know,” he said mildly, taking a sip of his whiskey sour before continuing. “I think we’re about due for a lucky break.”

“We don’t get lucky breaks. We get fooled into thinking that we have a lucky break, only to get royally fucked later,” Jon snapped, thumping his cane against the ground for emphasis. “You should know that by now.”

Gerry frowned. “Don’t take this out on me.”

Jon metaphorical hackles went up, and for a moment it looked as though he were about to start shouting—but then he abruptly deflated and looked away. “No, you’re right, it’s just…”

Gerry sighed. It was difficult to stay angry at Jon when he bore such a striking resemblance to a kicked puppy. “I get it.”

They fell silent for a moment, sipping their drinks, lost in their respective thoughts.

“Shall we go?” Gerry asked, setting his glass aside.

Jon paused for a moment longer, before letting out a long, gusty sigh and draining what was left in his drink. “Sure.”

The elevator was still broken, so unfortunately they had to take the stairs. While Gerry knew better than to offer any assistance, his heart still clenched at how tight with pain Jon’s jaw had gone by the time they reached the bottom. They stopped for a few seconds to let Jon get his breath back, before continuing toward home.

About a block away from the office, they froze at the sound of pounding footsteps growing unmistakably closer.

“Hear that?” Jon murmured out of the corner of his mouth, the dying light of the sun glinting off the switchblade in his free hand.

“Mmhm,” Gerry hummed, slipping a hand into his pocket.

Martin was very, very lucky that Gerry recognized him as he rounded the corner; otherwise, it was very likely that Jon would’ve run him through. As it was, Martin crashed into them both, gasping frantically for air, cheeks flushed, eyes wide with abject terror.

“Martin?” Jon demanded, shoving the switchblade away. “What the hell are you—”

“They’re after me,” Martin gasped out, scrabbling at Gerry’s coat. “They—I don’t know how they found out, but they, Peter, he—”

“Shit,” Gerry muttered, suddenly becoming aware of the second set of pounding footsteps growing nearer. He took a moment to assess their surroundings, before grabbing Martin’s shoulders and hauling him into the nearby alley. “Martin, hide behind that dumpster. Jon, distraction time.”

Despite the situation, Jon’s eyes lit up with an exhilarated gleam. Gerry had just enough time to fondly think, adrenaline junkie, before Jon tucked his cane over his wrist, twisted his hands in Gerry’s lapels, and shoved him against the wall for a bruising kiss.

Gerry gasped into Jon’s mouth, his hands instinctively falling to cup Jon’s slim hips. He deepened the kiss, humming encouragingly when Jon shoved his jacket over his shoulders, exposing the thin black t-shirt beneath.

Jon was just beginning to press little kisses down the juncture of his jaw and neck when the harsh beam of a torch fell on them. Jon, who’d been a drama queen long before he’d joined am dram in uni, pulled away with a theatrical gasp, his annoyance almost startlingly genuine. Gerry tucked his face out of the way and adjusted his jacket, affecting embarrassment.

“Do you mind?” Jon asked.

“Oh,” the person on the other end of the torch said, sounding distinctly uncomfortable. Gerry tried to peek a look, but the beam was too strong for him to see into the darkness beyond it. “Sorry to disturb you sirs, um...you wouldn’t happen to have seen a person—?”

“No, we haven’t seen a person.” Keeping one hand curled in Gerry’s jacket, Jon took a step back, lifting his chin defiantly. “Now if you’ll excuse us, we were busy.”

“Right,” the person muttered, and then the torchlight abruptly vanished, dropping them once more into the dying light of the sun.

They stood there for a moment, Jon breathing hard, cheeks flushed. Gerry tipped his head back against the wall, letting his eyes flutter shut as his pumping heart slowed.

Then the grip in his collar loosened, and Jon let out a pained groan and sank against the wall. “Fuck.”

“Alright, take it easy,” Gerry murmured. He pressed a kiss against Jon’s hair and rubbed a soothing hand against his back. “You did beautifully.” Then louder, “Martin, you can come out now.”

There was a brief pause, and then a shadow tentatively emerged from behind the dumpster. Martin looked far less rattled than he had when he’d first run around the corner, though there was still a healthy flush to his cheeks. He peered up the alley, wringing his hands. “Are they…”

“For now,” Jon said, grimacing as he dug his knuckles into the tight muscles. “We should leave before they get back.”

Martin’s eyes honed in on him. “Will you be okay?”

“I’ll be fine,” Jon snapped, straightening. “You should be more worried about yourself. You can’t go home, right?”

The question seemed to remind Martin of the current situation, because his eyes went a little wild again. “No, they...I left to do a bit of shopping, and then came back and, and there they were.”

They fell silent for a moment, considering that.

“Well, there’s nothing for it,” Jon said brusquely. “You’ll have to come home with us.”

“What?” Martin gaped.

Gerry was already nodding. “We don’t have much room, but we can make up the couch for you.”

That only seemed to make Martin all the more aghast. “Wait! Wait, won’t that put you in danger?”

Gerry looked up and met Jon’s gaze.

“We have...a certain degree of protection,” Gerry hazarded delicately. “It won’t do much against the likes of Peter himself, but lesser threats…”

“You’ll be fine,” Jon completed. “Now unless you want to run into them again, we had better get going.”

Martin glanced mutely between them, looking like he wanted nothing more than to argue. Then his shoulders slumped, probably realizing that he had no other choice considering how dire the situation was.

“Alright,” he murmured, defeated. “Let’s go.”

[angelsfalling16]

Love Unspoken

I finally got around to editing this, and I’m excited to finally be sharing it!! This isn't what I usually write, but I really like this ship and enjoyed writing this. I hope you all like it, too!

Ship: TamaKyo

Rating: Teen

Summary: While staying in Nekozawa's mansion for the night, Tamaki walks in to find Kyoya and Haruhi together in Kyoya's room. He has a hard time putting into words what why he's so upset, but Kyoya understands anyway.

Read it on ao3

***

Tamaki hesitates outside the door to Kyoya’s room for the night. He can’t just enter in the hopes that Kyoya will be happy to see him; he has to have a reason to be there.

He knows that they were just with each other, having left dinner to head to bed together – well, not together but at the same time. Gah, he’s never felt this flustered by the thought of seeing Kyoya. He is unsure what to do.

Well, he is a little sore from spending too much time out in the sun, so he could use some lotion. (Nevermind the fact that he has some of his own back in his own room.)

With a deep breath, he knocks twice. He doesn’t wait for an answer because he knows it will give him plenty of time to chicken out and go running off. Normally, that would be very unlike him, but when it comes to Kyoya, nothing is normal. Tamaki doesn’t have to put up an act around him; he can just be himself, and Kyoya welcomes it.

“Hey, Kyoya,” Tamaki says as he pushes open the door. “Do you have lotion and stuff? My sunburn stings…” He drifts off when he sees what’s happening in the room.

Kyoya is standing next to his bed, shirtless and hair artfully disheveled. Haruhi sits in front of him on his bed, her hair and dress mussed up. Tamaki can only imagine what happened in here before he walked in.

Haruhi stands up, but Tamaki only has eyes for his best friend of two years. (Are they still friends? Or something more?)

He doesn’t believe that Kyoya would actually do anything with Haruhi, but he isn’t sure what else to think when all of this is staring him in the face.

“Kyoya, what were y—?” He’s cut off when Kyoya shoves a bottle of lotion into his chest, hard, staring at him with an intense expression.

“You shouldn’t open doors without waiting for an answer,” he says in a low, dark tone.

“But you and Haruhi—.”

“Relax. It wasn’t like that.”

“But—.”

“Seriously, Tamaki. It's nothing.” His tone has softened, and he draws nearer to Tamaki, ensuring that his focus is solely on him now.

There's a rumble of thunder in the distance.

“I—.”

“Shh.”

There's a flash of lightning, and it lights up the two of them as if they are the most important thing in the universe. Tamaki glances around the room, noticing that they’re alone now.

“Huh? Where did Haruhi go?”

Kyoya shrugs. “She must have left while you were throwing your tantrum”

“I was not—!”

“Hush now, darling. It's just the two of us so you can drop the act.”

That’s one of the things that Tamaki likes about Kyoya: he doesn’t put up with any of his wild antics. He may go along with some of them, but he never lets Tamaki go too far off the deep end.

“Kyoya,” Tamaki says softer now, the accusations gone from his tone.

“I told you it was nothing. You are all that matters to me,” he says, bringing his hand up to gently cup his cheek.

“But what were you doing with her?”

“I was only trying to help you.”

“How? By bedding her?”

Kyoya sighs again, but if he’s being honest, he finds Tamaki’s jealousy a little bit cute.

“It wasn’t like that. I only thought it might be the best way to help her see your point. She really shouldn’t have tried to fight those guys on her own.”

“Oh. I see. So, you weren't...?”

“No, you idiot. The only person I could ever want in my bed is you.”

Kyoya waits a beat then kisses Tamaki, giving him ample time to pull away. He doesn’t. He never does.

Tamaki kisses him back enthusiastically and with a great passion that nearly has Kyoya swooning. In order to keep that from happening and embarrassing himself, Kyoya slowly leads them over to his bed where they fall on it together, Tamaki laughing into Kyoya's mouth as they get situated, tangling their legs around each other.

They kiss for a long time as the storm rages outside before Kyoya finally finds the strength to separate himself from Tamaki, rolling over onto his back.

“You should go,” he says as he stares at a point on the ceiling. “You don't want someone to find you here.”

“I don’t care about that.” Tamaki tugs on his arm, trying to get him to roll back over.

Kyoya doesn’t move, though. He just smiles grimly and says, “We both know that's not true.”

Tamaki doesn't argue with him, which is what hurts the most. Kyoya wants so much more than these stolen kisses behind locked doors, but he won’t do anything to push Tamaki.

With a longing look at Kyoya, Tamaki slides off his bed and straightens his clothes.

Alright. Well, I'll see you in the morning then?

Kyoya merely nods, too tired to say anything. At least he can let his guard down around Tamaki, even if it is a foolish move on his part.

He waits until he hears the door close, though, before he fully lets his guard down, rubbing his hands down his face. He hates how much it hurts each time to push Tamaki away, but he has to. For both their sakes.

Kyoya forces himself to sit up, refusing to wallow and considering whether he should go over the numbers for the day or simply go to bed. Before he can decide, he hears a strange noise coming from the closet.

It really was a terrible idea to take Nekozawa up on his offer to stay in his mansion. Who knows what kind of creepy things he has hidden here?

There's a crack of thunder, and the closet rattles again. Well, he can’t sleep now. Not until he investigates.

Knowing it's probably harmless, Kyoya simply goes over and opens the closet.

The last thing he expects is to see Haruhi curled up in a ball on the floor.

Is it possible that she heard...? No, that’s not important right now.

“Haruhi are you quite alright?”

A crack of thunder resonates throughout the room, and Haruhi shudders but ignores him. He can see what the problem is now and why she disappeared so suddenly earlier.

“You're afraid of the thunder.” It's not a question. “Come here,” Kyoya says, squatting next to her. He picks her up easily and holds her in his lap and against his chest.

“You're alright,” he soothes. “It's just noise. I won’t let it hurt you.”

“Kyoya, I—!” A voice exclaims as the door slams open once more.

“Damn it, Tamaki,” Kyoya murmurs. If only he could learn how to properly enter someone else’s room.

Tamaki freezes just inside the door for the second time that night.

“You really should learn how to knock,” Kyoya says, pinching the bridge of his nose. He's too tired for all of this.

“Again?! How could you?”

“As I said before, it's not like that. I was only trying to soothe her. She doesn’t like the thunder.” It may not be his place to say this, but the easiest way to stop Tamaki’s whining is with the truth.

“Oh. I have something that might help.” He says, pulling a blindfold from his pocket.

“Tamaki, I don’t think now is the time for that.”

Tamaki waves him off. “It's for Haruhi. I have some earplugs as well. To block out the sound and the sight of the lightning.”

“Right. That’s a rather good idea.”

“You don’t have to sound so surprised,” Tamaki says, but he’s smiling despite himself, secretly happy to be praised by him.

Just as Tamaki finishes tying the blindfold around Haruhi’s eyes, the twins, Hunny, and Mori all walk in with matching expressions of shock and bewilderment.

“As soon as school begins, our first club meeting will include etiquette on how to enter someone else’s room,” Kyoya says, exasperated. Perhaps he was wrong to expect more from these boys. Not a single one of them knows how to knock properly.

“That’s so wrong,” Hikaru says.

“What kind of sick game is this?” Kaoru asks.

“You pervert,” they say in unison as they glare at Tamaki.

“Now, boys,” Kyoya says calmly, getting to his feet. “Do you honestly believe that I would allow Tamaki to do something to Haruhi while I just sat by and watched? Nothing bad happened here. We were only trying to help her.”

“Help her what exactly?” The twins ask, but Kyoya ignores them, ushering everyone out of his room. He has had enough of all of them for one day.

Haruhi goes, too, but Kyoya notices that she keeps the blindfold and ear plugs, even though the storm seems to have stopped. He’d never admit it to anyone, but it makes him sad to think about how she might be alone the next time it storms and need those.

Kyoya starts to close the door, but Tamaki hesitates in the doorway, looking like he doesn’t really want to go.

“Kyoya, I–.”

Kyoya shakes his head, gently cutting him off. “It’s alright. I know.”

He knows how Tamaki feels even if he isn’t ready to say it aloud just yet, and he would never push him to say it before he’s ready. It would only drive him away, and that’s the last thing he wants.

Still looking torn, Tamaki turns and leaves. Kyoya leans against the door once it’s closed, feeling utterly exhausted.

He can’t wait to get back to his own home where he can have some peace and quiet and isn’t worried about the trouble the others could be getting into.

***

Later, once everyone is sound asleep in their own bed, Tamaki returns to Kyoya’s room. This time, when he knocks, he waits for an answer.

When Kyoya opens the door, he’s in casual wear, and his glasses aren’t on. He looks slightly annoyed, but his voice is deceptively soft when he asks Tamaki what it is this time.

“Uh, I wondered if I might stay here with you tonight?”

Kyoya feels suddenly wide awake then, his eyes going wide. He knows that he should tell Tamaki no, that they shouldn’t risk being found out, but maybe because he’s too tired or simply because he doesn’t want to, he lets Tamaki in.

“Alright, but lock the door behind you.”

“No,” Tamaki says, faltering slightly when Kyoya turns a glare on him. “I just mean that I don’t care if anyone finds us together. I just want to be with you, Kyoya. I-I love you.”

It’s the first time Tamaki has said any of that aloud. He had been too afraid before, worried how others might react. He’s done worrying, though. He loves Kyoya, and if anyone has a problem with that, then they aren’t his true friends.

Kyoya is still staring at him, not saying anything, and doubt starts to seep in and pull at the confidence that Tamaki walked in here with.

“I can go if you want. Sorry. I shouldn’t have—mmph.”

Kyoya silences him with a kiss that steals the breath from both of them. He has never kissed Tamaki like this before, so openly and passionately. He was afraid to give all of himself away. But he’s not afraid anymore.

“I love you, too, Tamaki.”

[insfiringyou]

BTS - A Chance Meeting (V & Ara)

Contains: Slight angst

*Alert for potential spoilers for fics not yet written in Jimin x Ara’s storyline*

Ara notices Taehyung sat alone in a quiet cafe and decides to stop by. 

You can find out more about our headcanon universe and ongoing storyline here and more about our headcanon girlfriends here.

To read each member & their girlfriend’s headcanon universe fics in order, follow the links here: RM   /   Jin /   Suga /   J-Hope   /   Jimin   /   V   /   Jungkook & our full masterlist of fanart and fanfictions can be found here

If you wish to follow all member’s storylines in chronological order from the beginning, you can find them listed here.

Content below the cut

Ara hesitated, before tapping lightly on the single-pane glass with her fingernails. She didn’t want to draw too much attention but was unable to stop herself from knocking. It was a surprise to see him after so long and she had double-taken in the street. His hair was a little longer, but that was expected. The last time he had just returned from the military and his short, closely-cropped cut made him seem more somber; years older than he was. Now it was back to a length she found more familiar but the dark, wispy suggestion of facial hair on his upper lip was new. He seemed lost in thought, sat in the back of the cafe with a small cup clutched between his fingers, staring into space. Despite her being gentle, the sound seemed to startle him and he looked up. Ara gave a tentative wave, hoping he recognised her. 

She tucked her fringe behind her ear, watching him pause before he raised his hand slightly in acknowledgement. Her bleached strands felt unfamiliar as she brushed the neck of her hair; the short, pixie cut still freshly blow-dried from the hairdressers that morning. She had asked Da-eun to do it for her but the young woman had refused, thinking she might get into some kind of trouble for it. Ara understood, after all, she had not yet spoken to her manager about a change in style.

Taking the plunge, she tucked her black purse beneath her armpit and walked around the corner to the entrance; the soft tinkle of a bell above the door signalling her arrival. She could not read Taehyung’s expression as she approached his table at the back of the small space but hoped she was not intruding. He was sat snugly behind a column which, luckily, seemed private. The cafe only had a small handful of customers but she looked around cautiously before joining in. 

“Hi…” She beamed, keeping her voice low. “I haven’t seen you in ages. How are you?”

He nodded, meeting her gaze. “I’m good.” His tone gave nothing away, but after a moment he gestured to the spare chair opposite. “Do you want to sit down?”

She slid onto the seat automatically. “I can’t stay for long. I’ve got an appointment.”

He blinked a few times. “You’ve cut your hair.”

Her replying smile was bashful as her fingers moved in response to her fringe which had once more come untucked. “It was too warm in the heat. It’s much easier to maintain now.”

“It suits you.” He said coolly. 

There was a long pause between them, though it wasn’t awkward. She had grown used to these drawn-out silences, from the time he temporarily took lodge in her and Jimin’s apartment and when her boyfriend had left for the military. It would have been a lie to say she had gotten a lot from his company. He always seemed absorbed in his books as well as his thoughts, but there always seemed to be something he was holding back; an aura of mystery she couldn’t quite place and at odds with Jimin’s usual openness. But Taehyung was tidy enough and greeted her when she came home, so she hadn’t minded having him around. 

She found herself wondering what she could say to him. It seemed polite to stop and talk, but this chance meeting now reminded her how little she knew about his life now. Eventually, she spoke. “How’s the baby?”

The corner of his lips twitched in a vague smile. “Toddling.”

Ara was silent for a moment, only just realising it had been longer since she had seen him than she initially thought. “How old is he now?” She asked, voice open and inquisitive. 

He took a sip of tea; it’s aroma fragrant in the small space. She tried to read the label on the tag but couldn’t make it out. “Almost two.”

Her eyebrows raised in disbelief. “I can’t believe it’s been so long. I keep meaning to go and see Cassandra, but I wasn’t sure where she was now. Is she still in Seoul?” 

Taehyung nodded, putting down his cup. It made a soft, strangely comforting sound against the china saucer. “She’s in Gangnam. Do you have her number?”

She thought for a moment, before nodding with a frown. “If she hasn’t changed it. She was kind of hard to get hold of for a while.”

“Gabriel had colic.” He replied with a shrug, as though that explained the years of absence. Ara thought the explanation a little odd, but did not comment. 

“Did you choose the name?” She asked. 

“It just seemed right.” He quickly murmured, not entirely answering the question. Ara thought the reply seemed rehearsed, as though he had answered it many times. She wondered if his family had commented on it and whether he felt the need to defend the decision. Jimin had not spoken much about Taehyung’s family, and she herself had never heard them mentioned in conversation. All of a sudden she found herself hoping they had been supportive; not just for his sake but for Cassandra, whom she had known for so long. 

Ara forced the thought away. “I bet it sounds lovely when she says it. Cassandra always had the most wonderful voice.”

Taehyung looked up from his tea cup. “She still does.”

Her mouth opened, forming an ‘oh’, thinking she might have gotten it all wrong. Or maybe things had changed in the past two years. She approached the topic tentatively. “Are you two…?”

“No.” He confirmed. “But we make it work.” He quickly added.

Ara settled back in her chair; understanding. She gave a soft smile which she hoped didn’t come across as patronising. “I can tell you care about her a lot.”

“She’s the mother of my child, Ara.” He said quietly.

She sensed the sadness in his voice; a longing he couldn’t quite put into words and she nodded. “Of course.” She changed the subject lightly, seeing there was nothing else she could say on the matter of her old friend. “You should get in touch with Jimin. I know he wants to see you.”

He appeared to wince a little but recovered well. She almost hadn’t noticed. “You can tell him he’s welcome any time he wants. He knows where I live.” He murmured. 

Ara fell silent, realising he didn’t yet know. “You really haven’t seen him in a while have you?” She asked, before pressing on. “We broke up.”

He met her eyes across the table and she saw the shock in his expression. “When?”

“A few months ago.”

Taehyung was quiet, pensive, before he asked. “Was it mutual?”

She smiled sadly. “I think he needed it too. We still speak sometimes.”

The man opposite nodded in confirmation. “That’s good.”

Ara watched as he leaned forward to pick up the cup, looking downwards as he took the last few sips. She realised how lonely he looked; how the times she had come home to find him seemingly preoccupied masked the fact he didn’t seem to have anyone. His fans, she remembered, always thought him something of an enigma. She wondered now if that was truly it. 

“Have you thought about dating again?” She suggested, making sure to keep her voice down low, should anyone else hear. 

He didn’t look up from his cup. “Why do you ask?”

“I don’t know…” She trailed off, figuring out how best to word it. “Being in a relationship seemed to suit you.” She shrugged. It seemed silly now she said it out loud. “As far as I could tell anyway.”

“Cass has moved on.” He murmured, frankly.

Ara hesitated. “I meant with someone else.”

Taehyung’s eyes snapped up, meeting hers purposefully and she let out an unexpected giggle. 

“I didn’t mean me.” She confirmed, shaking her head. It felt strange without the usual brush of hair against her shoulders. She settled down, her laughter subsiding, and gave a long, dramatic groan, anticipating how pathetic she must sound. “I’m still trying to find myself.”

He looked back at the table, picking up a napkin and twisting it absently between his long fingers. “I don’t think I could have that again.” 

“You never know.” She easily dismissed.

His brows knitted together, creating deep, frustrated grooves in his forehead as he mumbled, glumly. “Maybe some people are only meant to be with one person.” 

Ara raised a questioning eyebrow. “You never dated anyone before Cassandra?”

Taehyung looked up once more, answering quickly. “That was different.” He sharply declared. “I was young.”

“You’re still young.” She said, deliberately gently, seeing he was hurt.

He grew quiet and shuffled uncomfortably in his chair. Ara feared she might have crossed the line and she tightened her grip on her purse, getting ready to leave before he suddenly spoke. “I wouldn’t even know where to meet someone.”

Her hands stilled and she relaxed. “Well…” She held out the palms of her hands. “What do you like?”

He met her gaze. “In a girl?” 

She shrugged. “Or a guy.”

Half-expecting him to question this, he surprised her by remaining silent, meditative; thinking deeply. She wondered if he knew about her. Perhaps Jimin had told him. 

“Someone sweet.” He eventually said. “Someone kind.”

Her lips curled, simpering. “Is that all?”

“I’m not that picky.” He stated. 

She couldn’t help but scoff. “You dated the most European girl in Seoul.”

“She’s only half European.” He contended, entirely missing the point. 

“You know what I mean...” Ara shook her head with a grin and sitting back, she reflected for a moment. “What about looks?”

“Personality is more important.” 

“You must have a preference?” She challenged, suddenly curious. 

Once again he fell silent and Ara found herself a little impressed at how seriously he was taking this. “Dark eyes...soft and sweet.”

“The kind of girl you’d bring home?” She questioned with a smirk. 

“Someone I could marry.” He stated, a little dreamily.

Ara nodded, amused. He sounded strangely serious. “I know just the girl.” She teased, an idea already forming in her mind. 

He looked at her; eyelashes heavy, giving him a sleepy look “How about you?”

She stretched in her seat, realising she hadn’t thought about it much before and was surprised he asked. Smiling to herself, she blushed. “Smooth skin. Nice lips.” She giggled in embarrassment, adding: “No stubble.”

“So Jimin?” He challenged. 

The corners of her lips turned up and she looked away, unable to help the way her heart still skipped a little at his name. “I don’t know…” She admitted, drifting off and watching from the corner of her eye as he reached into his pocket, searching for his wallet. She took the opportunity to flick through her phone, typing a name and bringing up a familiar social media account. She swiped through the pictures with her manicured thumb before finding one which showed the girl in question at a good angle. It was taken at a company event, and the dress she wore was uncharacteristically short. The other girls on the make up team had talked her into wearing it but Ara saw the way she had tugged on it incessantly all night, trying to cover her pale knees with the frilled hem. 

“What about her?” Ara held out the screen, showing him. 

Taehyung squinted at the picture. “Do you know her?”  

“She’s my stylist.” She confirmed before tucking the phone back in her purse and closing the magnetic clasp. “You’d like her, she’s sweet...and single.” She added.

“What’s her name?” He asked casually. 

“Da-eun.”

She thought he was going to ask more, but instead changed the topic. “Are you going back on tour soon?”

“Once the new album’s out, we still have a lot of work to do. I’m meeting the producers this afternoon.” 

“That sounds good.” He murmured, sounding a little tired. She sensed the conversation was drawing to a close. 

“Are you working on anything?” She asked politely. 

“I was thinking about it.” The other man shrugged indifferently. 

“I’m sure your fans would really enjoy it.”

“I’d be doing it for me.” 

The steely tone of his reply took her aback a little and she found herself recalling the news headlines in the days following the birth. “Even so…” She drifted off weakly and checked her watch before drawing her chair away from the table. “I’d better be going.” She murmured apologetically, getting to her feet. “It was really nice bumping into you.”

His eyes followed her as she gathered her belongings and extended the strap on the purse across her shoulder. “You too. Take care.”

“I will.” She smiled, tucking the chair neatly beneath the table and turning to leave. 

“Ara?” He called softly and she spun back. He was silent for a few seconds but she waited patiently. “Your friend Da-eun…” He seemed a little embarrassed. “You can give her my number.” Another pause. “If you like.”

It took her by surprise but she nodded in agreement. “I will.” She confirmed, giving a gentle wave. “Goodbye Tae.”

***

Thank you for reading. To read each member & their girlfriend’s headcanon universe fics in order, follow the links here: RM   /   Jin /   Suga  /   J-Hope   /   Jimin   /   V   /   Jungkook

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[bonnyskies]

come back to me [three] ⇢ jjk

you’re willing to do anything to save your marriage, even if that meant you’d have to sacrifice your own happiness to do so.

pairings — husband!jungkook x malereader, ft. ceo!jaehyun (that’s right babes, he’s in here)

genre — angst, sexual themes, idol au, exes to lovers-ish au, open relationship au, marriage au, parents au

series warnings — infidelity (kinda?), swearing, bisexual!jungkook, insecure!reader, unhealthy relationship, unrequited love-ish, slow burn, use of alcohol, mentions of divorce problems, (more could be added in future chapters)

word count — 2.7k

masterlist

You were utterly exhausted.

After last night, when discovering that Jungkook left you in the middle of the night to be with her, you didn’t get much sleep after that. You just laid out on your bed, staring up at your bedroom’s ceiling with tears in your eyes.

This morning, you felt like absolute death. Bags were evident underneath your eyes and your hands that were trembling uncontrollably, resting by your sides. It took you nearly two hours to get ready compared to your usual one, due to the fact that you couldn’t stop crying.

Jungkook didn’t come home in the morning, didn’t even bother to send you a single text.

It was painful, realizing that your relationship has to come that point where you two acted like complete strangers with each other rather than a married couple. Ten years together, and you never once thought it would ever come to this.

“Hey,” you instantly jumped in your seat at the sound of a man’s deep voice, breaking you away from your troubling thoughts with your heart stammering at a fast pace. When brought back to reality, your eyes landed on none other than the CEO of Jung Enterprises and your boss—Jung Jaehyun. “Are you alright? You seem out of it.”

“Y-Yes, sir.” You answered, clearing your throat. “Just tired, that’s all.”

Jaehyun nodded hesitantly, unsure of your answer but decided not to push it any farther. “Oh, okay.” He then approached your desk, “Remember we have that meeting with our sponsors in about ten minutes. Is everything ready for the presentation?”

“Yes, sir.” You replied again, standing up from your chair and handing him the file that you two put together for today’s conference. “Would you like to go prepare for the presentation?”

Jaehyun nodded, “That’d be good.” He then walked over to your office’s door and opened it, allowing you to step out first, which you did. But when you passed him, you were stopped when Jaehyun suddenly grasped your wrist. “And {Name}, I’d like to also apologize for what happened yesterday.” The reminder made your heart stutter inside your chest. “It was highly inappropriate for me to do that, and I’m sorry if I anyway made you feel uncomfortable—”

“Sir,” you interrupted, “You didn’t make me uncomfortable. It was just shocking that’s all.”

And once again, Jaehyun only nodded, shoving his hands into his suit’s pockets. “Well, I’m still sorry.”

“It’s alright sir, really.” You smiled reassuringly, reaching up and gently placing your hand onto his bicep, feeling your cheeks heat up at the feeling of the strong muscle. You two then shared a small smile with each other before heading towards the conference room.

While walking alongside him, you couldn’t help but think about what yesterday’s events. The memories resurfacing in your mind.

.

When entering your workplace’s building, you couldn’t stop thinking about the conversation you and Jungkook just had in the car.

You didn’t know whether you believed him or not, if he was telling the truth when he said that he’d change and start trying. You just hope that he was. You’ve been left disappointed by him too many times already.

As you made your way to the building’s elevator, you were suddenly stopped by the company’s receptionist, Jenna. “Hey, {Name}.” Her cheery voice made you slightly irritated. Ever since the downfall between you and Jungkook happened, everything and everyone that resembled happiness made you feel sick. “Mr. Jung has requested for you to come to his office first thing today. Something about having to prepare a presentation for some visiting sponsors tomorrow.”

“Okay, I’ll head right up.” You smiled fakely, nodding.

After entering the elevator and going up to the highest floor—level twenty specifically. The few workers that worked on the level gave you greeting smiles, already knowing who you are. Out of everyone in the company, you’re the one who’s closest to the boss. You are his assistant after all. And since you’re so close to him, that meant you didn’t have to knock before entering his office.

“Hello sir,” you greeted warmly, smiling at the sight of Jaehyun behind his desk, dressed in the finest suit that hugged his figure perfectly, making every muscle in his body look more define.

“Hey,” Jaehyun greeted back, briefly glancing up from his computer with a bright smile on his face before returning back to the screen. “Glad that you’re finally here.”

“Yeah, sorry.” You apologized, closing the door behind you and quickly taking a seat at his desk. “I had a meeting with my son’s teacher this morning.”

“It’s alright, {Name}.” Jaehyun was quick to reassure you, noticing your uneasy expression. “I know you. You would never be late for work unless it was an emergency.” He then continued when seeing you begin to calm down. “Is everything alright with Minho?”

Your heart warmed at the mention of your son. Jaehyun knew about Minho—even met him, and your son even saw him as his ‘samchon’. “He’s okay, just some behavior problems.”

“Well, if you need any help, just let me know.” Jaehyun offered kindly, making you smile.

“Thank you,” you replied gratefully, smiling. “Now, about that presentation. Should we get started on creating it?”

“Yes,” Jaehyun answered instantly, turning one of the two computer screens he had on his desk towards you. “Now, I’m thinking of doing this type of set up for the presentation...”

The two of you spent the rest of the day on this important project. And after seven excruciating hours of staring at the computer, creating slides, applying data, you two were finally done.

With the once clear bright sky replaced with complete darkness, you and Jaehyun were still in his office, glass of wine in hand as you two celebrated this small accomplishment. By far, out of the five years you’ve worked for him this is the longest time you two spent on a simple presentation.

“Thank you for helping me with this.” Jaehyun showed his gratitude, smiling against the glass’s rim before taking a small sip. “I wouldn’t have been able to do this without you.”

“Oh, stop.” You waved him off, lowering your head to hide the evident blush that was forming on your cheeks. “You’re just saying that because I’m the only one who is willing to stay after hours with you.”

Jaehyun chuckled. The sound of his deep laughter sending shivers down your spine. “No, seriously. {Name},” he then suddenly reached over and placed his hand on top of yours. “Without you, I’d be lost. You’re the one who keeps me grounded, who keeps me from going absolutely crazy from the stress.”

“W-Well that’s my job.” You anxiously stuttered out, staring at your conjoined hands. “I’m your assistant. I’m suppose to help you with everything.”

“That���s not what I meant, {Name}.” His voice, the way his said your name made your heart skip a beat. Silence filled the room as you two just stared at one another, eyes shifting down at each other’s lips.

You didn’t know who made the first move, but next thing you knew his lips were on yours, and you were laid out on top of his desk. His tie and jacket discarded on the ground and the first few buttons of his dress shirt undone, showing off his sharp collarbones. Your entire body was burning as your lips moved perfectly in sync with his, hands sliding down his toned torso, feeling his define muscles through the shirt’s material.

It was like you were in another world, the feeling of his lips moving away from yours and moving down your jawline and neck, leaving small, lingering kisses on your skin. You didn’t realize what you were doing until you felt his hands that were resting on your waist begin to move up and slide underneath your shirt, caressing your stomach.

Panic swept over you, making you instantly push away and wipe your lips with your hand. “Jae stop, I-I’m married.”

Jaehyun pulled away, taking a few steps back. “Shit, sorry. I-It’s just that—” he paused, running his hand frustratingly through his light brown hair, “—you haven’t talked about Jungkook for a long time and you haven’t been the same lately so I just thought you two separated.”

Your heart sunk from his words. “N-No, it’s okay. You don’t have to apologize.” You were standing up now, biting down on your bottom hard enough to where it drew blood. “Me and Jungkook are going through a rough patch right now,” you partially lied. “That’s why I’ve been acting differently lately.”

Jaehyun only nodded, swiping his thumb over his swollen lips. Neither of you knew what to say to each other.

“I-I should go,” you pointed towards the door. Again, Jaehyun nodded, reaching down and picking his jacket and tie up from the ground. “I’ll see you tomorrow, M-Mr. Jung. Have a good night.”

“You too,” was the only Jaehyun could bring himself to say as he watched you leave, chest heaving and lips still burning from yours.

.

“Well that meeting was a complete success,” was the first thing you said as you and Jaehyun entered his office, dropping the used file onto his desk before leaning yourself against it. “Congratulations, sir. You just got three new sponsorships for the company.”

“All thanks to you.” Jaehyun grinned, walking over to small fridge he kept inside his office and pulled out a bottle of champagne and two glasses.

You shook your head before correcting him, “Thanks to us.” You then watched as he poured himself and you a glass. “Are you sure drinking is a good idea? You still have to drive home.”

“I’ll be fine,” Jaehyun instantly reassured, handing your glass. “Plus we’ve got celebrate.”

Hesitantly you took the glass of champagne, “Would you be able to take me home?” And when he nodded, you gave in and took a small sip of the beverage.

And one glass soonturned into three, and then to four and now, you were completely wasted. You’ve always been a light head but Jaehyun, he was completely fine, pouring himself his fifth glass while watching you trying to hold in the champagne with amusement. “Okay, maybe that’s enough for you.”

You pouted when he took your half-empty glass away before gulping down his own. “Are you ready to head home now?” You then nodded.

Jaehyun and you then left the building, not having to bother saying goodbye to anyone else since you two were the only ones left at work. Jaehyun then led you towards his car, which was a beautiful black Ford Mustang. The sight of the expensive vehicle made your jaw drop, making Jaehyun chuckle at your stunned expression before opening the passenger door and allowing you to enter before closing it behind you.

“What is it?” Jaehyun asks the moment he starts his vehicle but doesn’t move, watching you with amusement as you looked around the inside with complete adoration. “Ugly?”

“No,” you instantly shook your head, smiling as you turned to face him. “It’s just really beautiful.”

Jaehyun raised a brow, “Doesn’t Jungkook have something like this?”

You shook your head, frowning slightly at the mention of his name. “No, he chose to trade it in for a more family friendly one for us when we got Minho.” You answered, running your hand gently across the dashboard’s smooth material. “We got a Mercedes SUV, but still, sometimes I miss his old Camari.” The many memories of the times you and Jungkook used to spend in his car began to flash through your mind, warming your heart. “It reminded me of the good old days with him. When everything was simple.”

Noticing the tears beginning to glisten in your eyes, Jaehyun reached over and placed his hand on your thigh, squeezing it reassuringly. “Hey, you okay?”

You quickly nodded, clearing your throat and quickly blinking away the tears before they had the chance of escaping. “Yeah, I-I’m fine. Let’s just go, yeah?”

Jaehyun kept staring you, eyes filled with concern but nonetheless nodded and started to drive.

The drive was completely silent, neither of you saying a word to each other. The silence wasn’t uncomfortable though, but rather the opposite. Jaehyun and you were close with one another, close enough to where you two didn’t even have talk and yet still feel comfortable with each other.

When arriving at your house, your heart instantly sunk when seeing that Jungkook’s car wasn’t in the driveway. It was near eleven and his practice ended at eight. You knew exactly where he was right now—with her. Jaehyun must’ve noticed your fallen expression because next thing you knew you felt his hand on your shoulder. “Hey, if you need anyone to talk to, I’m here for you. You know that right? Always.”

You gave him a simple nod, smiling softly. “Yeah, I know.” Glancing back at the empty driveway, your heart ached as heinous thoughts of Jungkook and Yeonha together consumed and haunted your mind, tears swelling up in your eyes once again. You then turned towards Jaehyun, “Do you want to come in?”

Your question shocked Jaehyun, making his eyes widen. He thought you were joking. But when seeing your glistening eyes, shining with tears, he knew you were serious, so he nodded.

.

.

.

Time flew by, and now it was one in the morning.

You and Jaehyun were sitting on your living room’s couch, you dressed in your pajamas which consisted of one of his shirts and a pair of boxers while Jaehyun was still in his suit.

Neither of you were drinking surprisingly, but instead had the tub of your favorite ice cream placed between you two, sharing it with your own individual spoon.

Jaehyun kept his word when he said that he’d be there for you. He sat there while you told him everything that has been going with you in the past week—hell, even the last six months. You told him about Jungkook’s love for you vanishing and him gaining feelings for another person. You told him about your guys’ open relationship, explaining how that was the only choice you had to keep your family together even if that meant you and Jungkook weren’t together.

Tears were spilling from your eyes uncontrollably and heavy sobs were falling from your lips, making your words come out illegible, but Jaehyun continued to listen nonetheless. “I’m sorry, {Name}.” He was speechless. “You don’t deserve any of this.”

You could only shrug, afraid that if you spoke again nothing but cries would come out.

“Jungkook’s a complete asshole—” Jaehyun was interrupted at the sound of the front door opening, both of you turning to see that it was none other than your husband himself entering the house.

The sound of approaching footsteps made your heartbeat quicken and hands tremble. Jaehyun stared at you, noticing your sudden change in demeanor.

When Jungkook approached the living room, his eyes instantly landed on you, and just as he was about to speak, his gaze then shifted on to Jaehyun who sat very close beside you, his gaze immediately hardening at the sight of him.

“H-Hey,” you quickly stood up from the couch, Jaehyun following. “Didn’t know you were coming home tonight.”

Jungkook’s glaring eyes remained on Jaehyun as he asked you, “Where’s Minho?”

“He’s with my eomma.” You answered, playing with your fingers anxiously while staring down at the ground, distancing yourself from Jaehyun. His tone was dark, angry almost. “Tonight’s date night.”

Instantly, you noticed Jungkook tense up. Every now and then, your mother would come take Minho for the night, allowing you and Jungkook to have the rest of day for yourselves, saying how having days together can go a long way in a marriage. But you and Jungkook haven’t been on a date in half a year.

“I-I should go.” Jaehyun awkwardly spoke up, clearing his throat and grabbing his suit’s jacket that was draped over the couch.

“Yeah, that’s probably a good idea.” You agreed, guiding him towards the front door. Jungkook’s eyes never left Jaehyun as you bid him goodbye, not missing the way you smiled at him or how your eyes briefly scanned his strong figure.

The moment you closed the door, your heart sunk to your chest. Turning around, you were met with Jungkook’s burning eyes. He was angry, furious even. And you knew exactly why.

Jeon Jungkook hated Jung Jaehyun with every fiber and bone in his body.

~ shit’s about to go down in the next chapter!

TAGLIST:

@xworldwidecutieguyx​, @yoongis-soulmate​, @jikookvfans​, @heartfeltscribblings​, @chrissfuk​, @blazedprince​, @btsfaris​, @sonderkook​, @rspctot7​, @http-je0n​, @magic-fox-555​, @moonfairyjoon​, @taozibun1​, @ephemeralkookie​, @thesquiglybumblebee​, @httpjazel​, @justqueerandhereforthetea​, @dreamer95​, @--xxchrissyxx--,

[marmosa]

hello 💕 i've just gone through your entire fred weasley and i absolutely love your writing and especially your dialogues, they feel v authentic and real xx i read that you have requests open so i'll leave you with an idea from my v detailed v self indulgent daydream cinematic universe starring fred weasley— post war (say a couple of years after) fred is the owner and manager of the hogsmead branch of the joke shop and sneaks into hogwarts to meet his fiancé, newly hired transfiguration (1/2)

thank you so much for the kind words and reading all my writing, i can’t begin to describe how much that means to me! i love the idea of fred sneaking into the castle to see his significant other, it’s so cute, i had to run a lap around my room just thinking about it. also in this house fred weasley never d worded, if you think he did, no he didn’t. also also, it got kinda sad at the end and i’m sorry, i didn’t mean for that to happen i- but anyways, hope you like it and thank you again for the compliment <3

word count: 1.6k

***

“Hey!”

Tink!

“Hey!”

Tink!

[y/n] looked up from the stack of papers arrayed on her desk and glanced around her study for the source of the noise, absolutely bewildered at who would possibly be bothering her at this hour. She prayed it wasn’t a student messing around with her, for she may have been a relatively new teacher but she wasn’t afraid to stand her ground against misbehaving kids.

The sound came again and this time she saw who it was her face lighting up before falling down as she scurried over to the window, unlatching the glass and pushing it open to find her fiancé sitting all high and mighty on his broom like this was a normal everyday occurrence.

“Fred Weasley! What in God’s name are you doing outside of my window? Why are you throwing stones at glass? Do you have any idea how high up I am?” She hissed, reaching for him, despite knowing full well he could only enter the room on his own accord.

He flew closer to the window and balanced himself on the ledge before grabbing her hand and hopping down onto the floor a giddy smile plastered on his lips, “I’m aware how high up this is, lest you forget I was one of the best Gryffindor beaters this school has ever seen.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. You do realize you could just come in through the front doors right? McGonagall isn’t going to smite you down for visiting your fiancée,” she deadpanned, latching the window back shut.

“Whatever? If I recall correctly, me being on the quidditch team all those years back had you absolutely smitten, or am I wrong,” he retorted smugly, completely brushing past her statement about walking through the front doors.

[y/n]’s face fell into one of embarrassment as she pushed past him back to her desk, not wanting to fuel his ego any more than she usually did, “Even so, you still can’t be sneaking onto campus. Especially during school hours, you know how it is, I would rather you be turned away at the door than get escorted out by the collar of your robes.”

“But it’s always school hours! Honestly [y/l/n], your new position has really given you a stick up the arse,” He grumbled, leaning back against one of the desks across from hers.

“[y/l/n]?” She repeated, offense written all over her face. Despite not taking it to heart she decided to mess with him a bit for being so stubborn.

Fred’s face fell and he was quick to rush over and apologize, “You know that’s not what I meant! Technically you’re not a Weasley anyway until the paperwork is done legally, so I’m not wrong.”

“I’m telling Molly you said that and she’s going to ground you just like she did 6th year when you got caught nicking something from Filche’s office,” [y/n] pouted, sinking into her chair and crossing her arms.

“You’re terrible you know that,” Fred deadpanned grabbing her cheeks in his hands, “don’t you say a word to my mother or she’ll make me bake you a cake or something.”

“I would quite like that actually, maybe I will tell her,” she replied, biting back a smile.

“Oh, come on! You know George was the one who got all the baking skills! That’s why he’s in charge of all the candy at our shops!” Fred whined, squeezing her face together slightly to try and return the teasing.

“Even if it turned out burnt and gross, I’d still like it because you made it,” she stated plainly, leaning up to try and snatch a kiss.

“Rubbish,” He replied, indulging her and accepting the kiss, smiling down at her when she beamed up at him.

“Whatever you say Freddie, y’know-,”

“Mrs. Weasley? Are you here? I had a question for you.”

All the color drained out of Fred’s face as he recognized McGonagall’s voice from across the room, [y/n]’s features mirroring the same horror as she pushed him off her and shoved him under her desk so he was as out of sight as she could make him.

“Yes- yes! I’m here Minerva, how can I help you?” [y/n] stuttered out, sliding her chair in as far as she could without injuring her soon to be husband.

“Well, I wanted to ask how the preparations were coming along for the annual Christmas Ball? I know you’ve been kept busy with recent exams, but the plans are top priority if we want to keep the spectacular turn out of our ball the same,” McGonagall explained walking up to her desk.

“Oh! The plans are coming along just fine, I haven’t quite finished drafting them up yet, but as soon as I do I’ll have them brought to you right away for approval,”  [y/n] assured her, trying her best not to let on how nervous she now was, trying not to get Fred caught.

“Spectacular! And I expect to see you down in the Hall later? Professors have to arrive early today for some announcement preparation,” McGonagall continued, thankfully still unaware of the hidden person in the room.

“Of course, thank you for letting me know ahead of time,” [y/n] nodded, pretending to assort some papers on her desk.

“Lovely,” McGonagall smiled, heading out of the room, but stopping before she exited the room, “Oh, and tell Mr. Weasley that I say hello, he’s been rather quiet about his surprise appearances to our school recently.”

“Will do!” [y/n] called after her, releasing a breath she didn’t even know she was holding in as soon as the door shut.

“Okay, how come you get to call her Minerva?” Fred complained, crawling out from under the desk, no visible panic at McGonagall’s leaving statement.

“All professors do. Besides, you’re a trouble-maker in her eyes, a darling, but a trouble-maker, she wouldn’t dream of giving you that kind of power,” [y/n] giggled, reaching up to rearrange his  ruffled hair, as he’d decided to grow it out again once he’d graduated.

“Trouble-maker,” Fred muttered, rolling his eyes, “Well she’ll be seeing a lot more of me whether she likes it or not, so I’ll win that privilege, eventually.”

“Whatever you say darling,” she hummed, scooting back in to continue grading her papers.

“You’re ignoring me already?” he groaned, letting his chin rest on the top of her head, arms slinging over her shoulders.

“I’ve got work to do Fred, I’m a professor now. I’m surprised you even had time to visit me, you’re a business owner now after all, it always amazes me how you have the time for these spontaneous visits- not that I don’t appreciate them,” she assured him, setting down her pen and squeezing his hands.

“I own the business, so I get to make my hours, unlike you,” he replied, moving his head so he was peeking over her shoulder.

“Is that supposed to be bad?” she quipped, leaning her head against his shoulder so she could kind of see him.

“Bad for me! I miss you! You’re here far too much,” Fred mumbled, intertwining their fingers.

“Well winter vacation is coming up soon, so you’ll be seeing much more of me. Hopefully you don’t get too sick of me,” she giggled, pursing her lips when he passed her a suggestive grin, “Ah, don’t look at me like that, that is not what I meant.”

“But it is and you know it darling,” Fred hummed, pressing a kiss to her cheek.

“Don’t get too cocky or I’ll come up with extra work to keep me here,” she warned, a teasing lilt to her threat.

“You wouldn’t. Besides even if you did, I’d kidnap you against your will. Also you wouldn’t hurt Molly like that, she always expects you for family festivities,��� he replied simply, knowing she would never pass up an opportunity to spend time with him.  

“You’ve got me there. You know me so well,” she sighed, reaching back so she could toy with the hair at the nap of his neck.

“I’d hope I know you well, you’re about to be my wife,” he chuckled, shutting his eyes at the sensation of her soft fingers against his skin.

“Touché, love, touché,” she hummed in agreement, her free hand twisting the engagement ring situated on his finger.

“Anyways, I should probably leave you to it, with your boring paperwork and grading and all,” he sighed, standing tall, her hands sliding away from him and into her lap.

“It’s not boring,” she frowned, crossing her arms across her chest defensively, trying not to cave but ultimately failing when he gave her a raised brow, “okay, maybe it’s a little boring.”  

“I knew it. No worries darling, I know you love it here, I’m only teasing. See you soon though?” He mused, brushing a stray hair out of her face.

“See you soon,” she replied, grabbing his face and pulling him down for a sweet kiss, relishing in one another’s company for their limited time together.

“Farewell my love,” he announced, grabbing his broom and pushing himself onto the window sill, “see you around.”

“Fred wait!”

He laxed the position of his broom and turned around, an adoring smile stretching onto his lips as she pulled him for one last sweet kiss, placing a small object in his hand.

“What’s this?” he asked as she peppered a few last kisses around his face, trying not to let her emotions get the best of her.

“It’s the locket you gave me, I finally put a picture in it, thought it was time to return it to you,” she smiled, stroking his cheek lovingly.

“You’re astounding,” he muttered, tucking the charm in his pocket, “I love you.”

“I love you too, bye Freddie,” she waved as he kissed her softly once more and took off into the setting sun, “see you soon.”

[all1e23]

Between the Stars [Pt.8]

Pairings:  Past!Steve x Reader, Bucky x  Reader

Series warnings: CHARACTER DEATH. Grief. Overall sadness. Depression. It’s pretty angsty if I’m being honest. Things mellow out as the series goes on. TW: Military/Spouse death.

A/N: **TW: A certain death is finally explained in this chapter. It is the second half of the chapter. It’s not in crazy detail but there is some important plot stuff mixed in.  I decided to post despite someone stealing my work. 😤 Thanks to my beautiful beta @moonbeambucky​​​​ for looking this chapter over for me. Enjoy the sad I guess. If you like it write me a book report, sing me a song or come scream at me.

***My fics are not to be saved or posted on any other sites without my written permission. Reblogs are my jam, though! Thanks!****

Stepping away from music for those ten months turned out to be the best thing you could have done for yourself and your career. Without the small reprieve, you doubted you would have found your way back to teaching, and you loved teaching. Not that it had been intended as a break at the time you walked away. You had every intention of never looking at another sheet of music again, but then Bucky came home and things became more complicated and somehow easier. You doubted that he knew what he was doing, and why should he? It wasn’t as if he had planned on coming home to pick up all your broken pieces so he could help put you back together. He did -- whether he realized it or not -- help you get some of your old life back. The bit that you could take with you into this new one. You even called a few of your former students and asked their parents if they were interested in picking up their lessons. Most said they would love to pick up where you left off, and a few said they found someone new in your absence. You couldn’t blame them. The world had continued while you chose to stand still.

Bucky must have noticed a difference because he told you he liked how pretty you looked when you were smiling. 

Lessons started with the school year, and fall was here before you could blink. You were surprised to find you weren’t dreading the holidays as much as you thought. It would be the first holiday season since you got the call and you had expected it to feel like the rest -- hollow and grim. Along with Easter and Memorial Day, you had skipped celebrating Steve’s birthday. There was a small cake you shared with Bucky, three bites in, and you couldn’t force any more falsities down. You spent the rest of the night in your room. It was one of the rare nights you hadn’t slept next to Bucky since he had been home. You needed the night to yourself, and he understood that. By morning, your wedding ring had found its way from your ring finger to a chain that Steve had given you years ago. It felt strange at first. From the moment Steve slipped it on your finger, it rarely left your skin, and when you did, it always felt like there was a piece of you missing. That feeling didn’t show up this time, but you imagined there weren’t many more pieces of you that could go missing. You didn’t want to make it a big deal, so you kept it tucked inside your shirt. Of course, Bucky noticed the absence right away. He never questioned it. 

It was a step forward (or maybe backward you weren’t sure some days). They were small, slow steps taken, but at least you were moving.  

You’re not sure when it happened, but one morning you woke up and everything didn’t hurt as bad, you guessed it started right around the time Bucky came home. While moving forward was necessary (as everyone continued to remind you), there were days when it felt like a betrayal. You are moving on, and Steve can’t come with you. A little guilt blackens your heart every time you smile on those days; so you falter and take those arduous steps back. It lessens with every laugh and smile Bucky draws out of you, but it’s there under it all, and there’s the fear too. You’re afraid if you move on and keep up with the rest of the world you will forget. You will forget everything you and Steve had, and it will be as if you were never anything at all. Bucky shook his head when you confessed that to him late one night with your forehead pressed firmly against his shoulder, fighting your sleep and the nightmares you were sure would follow. 

“You’re holding on to the past, Y/n. You gotta let it go. I’m not sayin’ you have to stop lovin’ him, but you gotta let go of the part of Steve that’s keeping you from moving on and being happy. Or it’s going to continue to tear at you until there’s nothing left.” 

“And if I forget him?” 

“You won’t, Trouble. You can’t forget a love like that. Trust me, I know.”

Bucky didn’t elaborate, and you didn’t dare ask. He’s never mentioned anything about falling in love in all the years you’ve known him. You’ve never seen him hold onto a woman for longer than a month and the idea of Bucky being in love, holding on to that love all these years without ever getting to know it turns your stomach inside out and shades your heart a bitter green. You’d rather not dwell on those feelings long enough to understand them. 

Neither of you spoke about it again, and you were thankful. You didn’t think you could handle discussing Bucky’s long lost love when you could barely pick out an outfit. You’ve been staring at your clothes for an hour now, and everything either looked awful or felt wrong. Maybe you needed to buy new clothes and start from scratch. Every piece you owned had a memory stitched into the fabric, and you didn’t need to be reminded of things you would never have again. Bucky pulled a grey flannel out of his closet, and you reached across the bed, yanking it right out of his hand to slip over your head. That would have to work for today. Bucky rolled his eyes and turned back to the closet to grab a blue Henley for himself. 

You always did like the way he looked blue. 

“I can go see Sam so you can have some time alone with Tasha and Wanda.” 

You didn’t say anything. Just gave a simple nod of the head, refusing to look up from the pile of clothes on the bed that now needed to be put away. You could leave it. The girls would be here any minute, and with Bucky gone, you could deal with it then. Bucky reached out to wrap his fingers around your wrist and gave a gentle tug, forcing your gaze to follow the motion up to meet his eyes. He ran his thumb over the soft thumping in your wrist and stared at you for a while as if he was working something out. 

“Or,” Bucky suggested gently. “I can stay right here and work on my bike.” 

Your lips curled up in a small smile despite your brain’s wish to keep them in a permanent frown. 

“Okay,” You agreed with an easy smile. You slipped your wrist out of Bucky’s loose hold and made your way towards the door, stopping before you crossed the threshold and looked back at him with a deep frown replacing the pretty smile you were wearing only a second ago. 

“You don’t have to babysit me, y’ know?” 

Bucky’s laughter was followed by an exasperated groan. Of course, that was why you were upset. 

“Yeah, I know. You’re just fine on your own.” 

There was no fighting the grin Bucky’s words caused. “Yes, I am. But… you can hang around if you want to.” 

“I’ve meant to clean up my girl anyway. I’ll hang around today, Trouble.” 

Bucky assurance made your heart rest a little easier and maybe his too because he looked relieved when you nodded. The doorbell broke your silence and forced you to leave his side; you barely made it to the top of the stairs when you heard Bucky mutter, “Pain in my ass.” There was a fondness in his voice that made your heart leap. 

Even though you were back to teaching you made sure not to overwhelm yourself; Tuesdays and Thursdays you worked late into the evening. It was nice to have something to look forward to, and Bucky always had something to eat ready when your last student left around 8:30. That was nice too. 

Natasha had called earlier in the week wanting to come over Thursday night, and you had to explain that you went back to work. There was silence on the other end of the line, and silence was never good with Natasha. She was probably mad you didn’t tell her and that you were keeping things that important hidden, but it wasn’t something you wanted to advertise. Besides, Friday was as good a day as any to have the girls over. No one had to work the next day and took some of the pressure off. Everything felt normal when Natasha and Wanda arrived; you shared a hug or two. Okay, three. Wanda liked to hug, and she showed you the muffins she baked while Natasha held up a bottle of something that looked as if it could melt the glass it came in. You didn’t know what you expected. You hadn’t thought you would feel so excited to see them. Not because you didn’t love them, but having excitement around anyone but Bucky has been rare these last few months.  

Sometimes the unexpected was good. 

You chose to sit on the window bench that happened to overlook the side yard where Bucky had his black and chrome bike parked and was sitting on an old milk crate hard at work. That didn’t go unnoticed by Natasha. Not that anything ever does. 

“So are you two living together now?” 

You slowly draw your gaze up from the wine glass in your hand to look at Natasha and Wanda, who was skillfully avoiding your eyes as she blew on her tea for far longer than necessary.  

“Yes. Is that a problem? It’s not like we talked about it or anything. It just sort of happened.” 

Natasha shrugged in answer to your question and waited for you to go on. She wanted more of an explanation, so you rolled your eyes and explained why Bucky was staying with you. 

“He didn’t have anywhere to go when he came home.” 

Natasha smirked at the suggestion that Bucky would have been homeless if he hadn’t come to live with you, and you knew right away what you said had been a mistake. “Besides his mom’s, right? She lives twenty minutes from here. What about Sam’s? Or at my place with Clint and I? And I’m a hundred percent certain Sarah Rogers would have taken him in if everyone else in his life let him down for some unknown reason.”  

You turned to look back out the window right as Bucky looked up, catching his eye, and you felt the panic in your chest lessen. Bucky gave you that pretty smile and scrunched his nose at you before going back to work. You fought to keep your smile small and lost the battle before it even got started. Wanda’s voice pulled you back into the living room; it was gentle as if she was trying to offset Natasha. 

“I think what Nat was trying to ask is if you are planning on staying here together, or is he going to get his own place eventually?” 

“We haven’t talked about it. I suppose he will at some point, though...” 

You frowned at the thought. Why did that bother you so much? 

“He doesn’t have to do anything, you know?” Wanda added at the sight of your upset. “He might want to stay here.” 

“Maybe, but he has to move on eventually,” you added, dread filling your voice from the mere thought of Bucky leaving you. “He can’t stay here just to keep me from falling apart for the rest of this life.” 

They were right. Bucky will eventually want to get back to his life. He can’t babysit you forever.  There was going to come a time when he will want to date, fall in love, and get married. Maybe even have kids. Do all the things that you were supposed to do with Steve. The thought of Bucky leaving you to have that life with someone else made you sick, and you know it’s selfish. It’s unfair to expect him to stay there with you because you don’t want to lose him to someone else. 

“How are you doing?” Natasha sounded a little softer this time, sensing your unease. “Are you sleeping?”  

“Yeah, I started sleeping in Bucky’s room with him. It seemed to help.” 

They stayed quiet but shared a look. You weren’t fond of whatever that was.

“What?”

“It’s nothing.” Wanda rushed out far too quickly, but Natasha was quick to cut in, and by her tone, you could tell she’s been feeling this way for a while. “I’m just wondering how long you are going to keep punishing yourself?” 

Natasha stared at you and Wanda swore under her breath. They talked about this before coming over. That was clear by the glare Wanda was settling Natasha with. You briefly wondered how often your friends discuss you like that. More often than you approved of, you were sure. 

“I’m not punishing myself. I’m allowed to be sad. My husband died--”

“You’re right. You are allowed to be sad. Just like you’re allowed to find new things that make you happy and start putting your life back together.” 

“I’m fine, Nat. I don’t need anything new. I have our house and my music--” 

“And, Bucky?”

While she was right, you did have Bucky, in a sense. Bucky wasn’t new. You had a feeling what she was suggesting would be very new and not a notion you wanted to entertain.

“Natasha--” 

“It’s okay to be happy again, Y/n. It’s okay to let your heart get put back together and heal. It doesn’t cheapen what you had with Steve. It doesn’t mean you didn’t love him, and it doesn’t mean you are betraying him. You aren’t doing anything wrong by letting yourself find happiness again. Even if that happiness is found with Bucky.” 

You had a feeling what Natasha was hinting at, but hearing it outright like that made you a little queasy. Did people, your friends, talk about you and Bucky like this? Is that what everyone was worried about, who would get you next?  

“What are you talking about?” 

“Don’t act stupid Y/n. You’re a lot of things, but stupid isn’t one of them.” 

“He’s been my best friend since I was thirteen. It’s not-- It’s never been--” You took a deep breath and told them both, firmly. “He’s my best friend.”  

Wanda pinched Natasha’s thigh and grabbed your hands from where she sat on the floor between you and Natasha. “All Nat is trying to say is if you wanted to find happiness again... with Bucky or anyone for that matter, it’s okay. You’re not doing anything wrong by moving on.” 

“It’s been nearly a year since you lost Steve. It’s time to start picking up the pieces, Y/n. With Bucky or without. You can’t stay stuck in this in-between, and you can’t go back.”

You turned your gaze back out the window to catch Bucky staring at you. He quickly looked back at his bike and fiddled with the wrench in his hand. It reminded you of all those days he would hide you in Shop class so you could skip Geometry with Mr. Coulson. The memory makes you grin. The girls might be half right. Maybe you couldn’t go back, but that didn’t mean you wanted to let it go completely.

----

Three hours after Natasha and Wanda left, you found yourself wandering around the house with what you thought was purposeless. It started in the kitchen, and you slowly made your way through your home, somehow ending up in the doorway to Bucky’s room. Your heart must have told your feet where to go and left your brain in the dark. His hair was still wet from a fairly recent shower. The ends were darker than the rest and shiny from being wet. It wasn’t long enough to tuck behind his ears, but it was long enough that he could slick it back. His beard had become relatively thick due to his laziness these last few months. To be fair, most of his attention has been on you. When he mentioned trimming it a few weeks ago, you wrinkled your nose at the thought, and at the time, he had laughed. 

He never did trim it after that. 

Bucky glanced up at you, hovering at the threshold to his room, and he smiled, crooking his finger for you to come in. You pushed off the doorframe and made your way over to where he was resting on the end of the bed, wet towel lying on the bed next to him. You wanted to tell him it was getting your side of the bed all wet, but you thought better of it. 

It’s not your bed, after all. You have your own you should probably start to sleep in and let Bucky get back to living his own life. 

“Have a good time?” Bucky asked. There was a softness in his voice he saved for you and you alone. 

You shrugged.

“Tasha called me stupid on the way out. Got any idea what that is about? Should I be scared?” 

You grinned and brushed a fallen strand of hair back to lay with the rest. “I don’t know, but being scared is always a safe bet when Nat is involved. How’s the bike? It looked like you got a lot done.” 

“She’s good. Just cleaned her up a bit and changed the oil. You know, I like fiddling with her a bit, and she’s been sitting at my mom’s collecting dust.” 

You cupped his cheek and gently rubbed his cheekbone with your thumb. He nuzzled your palm right away, eyes falling closed, and he seemed to relax a fraction. There was tension in his shoulders you hadn’t noticed before, a darkness that has never lingered in his eyes this long, and his smile never quite reached his eyes anymore. He’s spent all this time taking care of you, and you never once noticed how badly he was struggling. 

He was lost just like you. 

“Hey.”

Bucky looked up at the sound of your voice and quickly pulled away from your touch as if he remembered he shouldn’t be doing that. You slowly drew your hand back, letting them drop to your side and choosing to sit next to him instead. 

“Wanna talk?” 

“‘Bout what?”

He looked dejected, troubled. A little scared, too. 

“What’s been weighing on your heart.” Bucky dropped his gaze, his tell for waiting to drop the subject, but you pushed a little more. “I didn’t see it before. I was too wrapped up in my shit, but I can see it now. The guilt and the hurt.”

If he honestly couldn’t talk, or didn’t want to, you would drop it. 

“Y/n, you don’t want to hear about that.” 

So it was about Steve’s death then. You had a feeling. 

“If I couldn’t handle it, I wouldn’t have asked. I need to hear it, Bucky, and I think you need to talk about it as well.” 

It took a long time before Bucky made any movements at all. He shifted further away from you, tossing the towel onto the desk chair and turned to face you. You mirrored his position tucking one leg under you on the bed and letting the other hang off the edge. He was still quiet, gathering his thoughts and a little courage, too. You nudged his barefoot with yours and he gave you a small smile.

“Steve was… He was walking in front of me. Like he always does-- like he did, and Sam was on our left.” Bucky licked his lips, tossing words around his head to find the right ones. This was harder than he thought it would be. 

“I wasn’t paying attention. I should have been. That’s my damn job. I was too busy staring at the damn…” Bucky stopped short, and the look of guilt he gave you said he feared you already knew his crimes and found him deserving of judgment. 

“At what, Bucky?” 

Bucky dropped his eyes and shook his head. 

“You’ll hate me.” 

“Bucky… I could never hate you. Nothing you could do would make me hate you.” 

Bucky closed his eyes, squeezed them shut really. He didn’t want to see your face when he said what he had to say next. “I was staring at your scarf. It was sticking out of his collar, poking up right out of the back of his BDU’s and all I could think about was you, and how I could never have-- I was distracted.”

He reached up and wiped the tears from his eyes with the palm of his hand. You had to stop yourself from reaching out and pulling him close. Bucky needed to get this off his chest and you needed to hear it. 

“Next thing I knew, there was a shot fired and then about ten after that. Maybe more. I don’t know. Steve was down, and at first, I thought he dropped to take cover, but my damn ears were ringing, and shots were flying everywhere. I tried to yell out, but I couldn’t hear my voice over the noise. Sam was trying to drag me away, but I couldn’t leave him lying there…” 

Bucky’s words became stuttered and choked. You could follow along, but you had to piece together the holes Bucky couldn’t fill. He explained how Steve had taken the bullet for him, how he had been distracted and didn’t see it in time. Bucky told you that he had pulled Steve undercover, and Steve had begged for Bucky to take care of you for him. Bucky left out the reason Behind Steve’s choices that day. You didn’t need to know that when Bucky asked why he did that, Steve told him with that stupid lopsided smile, “You’re my best friend, Buck and Y/n... S-she can go on without me. She can’t live without you though.” 

You wiped your tears away with shaking fingers. Bucky blamed himself for Steve’s choices and you couldn’t let him go on thinking he was at fault for something he had no control over. Scarf or not. 

“It’s not your fault.” 

“Yn...” 

“No, Bucky. It wasn’t your fault. If it had been the other way around, you would have jumped in front of him. We both know you would have.” 

“But if I was--” 

“It’s not. Your fault, Bucky.”  

You crawled into his lap and pulled his head to your chest. Bucky tightened his arms around your waist, clutching at the thick fabric of his shirt still clinging to your skin. “I don’t blame you, and I know Steve wouldn’t,” You cooed softly in his ear. ”He would do it a hundred times over, and I know you would do the same for h-him.” 

Bucky tucked his nose into your neck and took a shaky inhale. The two of you sat like that as the glow of the room slowly faded from orange to dark blue. Bucky’s quiet sobs had settled into barely-there sniffs along with your own. There was a new heaviness resting on your chest, but despite the pain that came with knowing the truth, it gave you a tiny bit of closure. He never said if he believed you or accepted your forgiveness. You prayed he did. You hoped now he would be able to forgive himself, too.

“Bucky?” 

There a beat of silence. Bucky rubbed his beard against your neck making you shiver. You could feel a faint smile on your skin when he finally spoke. 

“Yeah?” 

Bucky slowly lifted his head, so the two of you were sitting nose to nose now, you were so close that when you whispered he could feel your breath against his lips, “I’m glad you came home… to me.” 

Maybe now, you could both heal and move on to something new. 

“Me too, Trouble. Me too.”

Previous // Next

[adorehs]

12/12/12

Here’s my spooky-ish Harryween fic (a day late, which I apologize for!) This is one million percent not proofread and definitely very rushed and for that I am sorry. 

Summary: Detective!Y/N has trouble cracking Suspect!Harry. But he seemed to have cracked her. (4k words)

Warnings: violence at the end (this includes blood), mentions of death and murder, angst if you could call it that. I am probably missing some but PLEASE do not read this if you are not comfortable with the themes that are portrayed above.

They tried to pin a murder on him, little old Harry who couldn’t swat a fly. Not in his right mind, anyway. 

He was quite confused when they called him in with the intent of asking him questions regarding the night of December 12th. He doesn’t remember anything about that night at all, in fact. He was seemingly blackout drunk in the corner of his best friend’s apartment with a bottle of vodka in his hand and a hat fell on his face as his mouth fell open and soft snores fell out as everyone around him danced into the early morning. 

December twelfth. 

The day his mom died, the day he tries to forget every year, the day he takes off from work, the day he does everything but think.

He sat silently in the room- the walls a bleak grey and the lights dim. There were no windows except the small piece of glass that sat at the top of the textured door and in each corner of the room there sat a small security camera that followed Harry intently. 

His fingers tapped in a calming rhythm of threes and his leg bounced lightly in anticipation for his interrogation. His eyes darted from his hands that were splayed out in front of him to the camera directly across from him as he leaned father back into his chair and stretched his legs out fully. 

He let out a sigh as he sat in silence- he was bored and ready to go home. It was an utter waste of time in his mind- there was nothing he could give away. He wasn’t there, as much as he could match the description of a white male with brown hair with a few extra inches off the top of his head. 

The door squealed as it opened, a woman scurrying in with a folder of files in her arms and a navy pantsuit hugging her figure as she sits down at the table across from him, “Hi, Harry, I’m Detective Y/N Y/L/N,” her hand reached out calmly to meet Harrys. 

He watched her as they shook hands and he pulled his hand back and folded it into his harm, “Uh, just to be clear, there’s a microphone right there,” she gestured across from her where his hands once rested, “It’s quite small and you should refrain from putting your hands over it, unless you want to come back for a day of interrogation,” she chuckled softly. 

Harry nodded silently as she continued to stumble through her opening lines, “There are cameras in each corner so this is being recorded. Do with that as you will,” she sighs before opening her file and sitting up straighter than before. 

“Well, uh, Harry, I appreciate you coming in today. I know it’s a bit harder with cases like this… we try to refrain from declaring someone as, uh,” she paused to find her words. 

“Mhm,” Harry hummed in understanding. 

“As not being alive until we have evidence that they’re not, so we uh, we’re treating this case as an emergence.”

“Absolutely, yeah,” Harry commented with a small frown falling onto his face. 

“Okay so, uh, we’ll be fast forwarding through some details that we would finalize later and we will have this be a bit more thorough of an interview so we don’t have to keep calling you back again,” she trailed off into silence. “Theresa read you your rights earlier and I just want to reiterate that you can walk to the lobby if you ever feel uncomfortable and I will treat you with respect and have the same expectation for you.”

“‘Course,” he nods in understanding. 

“So uh, would you agree that there is a, a connection, uh geographically, with you and your mother Anne’s death and her, uh, supposed murderer Russell Williams?” 

Harry’s face fell slightly, “Uh, sure, yeah, geographically,” he was in a state of shock. He didn’t expect his mother to be brought up. 

“Alright so to be quite frank, uh, that’s a bit of why you were more of a suspect- matched the description from Miss Canaue, uh, Mr. Williams’s neighbor, and uh, your obvious connection with the man,” Y/N informed the man before him. Her eyes met his for the first time since she walked in and he appreciated the contact. He nodded as a response, urging Y/N to continue. 

“So, uh, let’s backtrack. Why did you miss work on the tenth? Your log reported you called in as sick, is this true?” 

“Yes, that is true. I had been getting over a stomach bug that weekend. Called in sick to finish my recovery,” Harry confirmed. 

Y/N nodded in confirmation, “And had you contacted your doctor because you had felt, uh, sick that weekend?”

“Not necessarily,” Harry trailed off, “I called so I could have him prescribe me more promethazine… but besides that, I did not speak to him about my symptoms.” 

“Alright,” Y/N glanced at the file that was open before her, “Were you bedridden for the majority of that day?” 

“No, I went to the grocery store that night and I picked up my prescription from the pharmacy round the corner from my apartment,” Harry explained. He stretched his legs out further, a nervous tick he had developed when in school. Y/N’s demeanor intimidated him- he felt his body trying to move at every opportunity to create distance between himself and the woman before him. 

“And do you remember the route you took to the grocery store?” Y/N asked with a slight quirk in her eyebrow. 

Harry’s brows furrowed at the odd question, “Probably went down Main Street and went to the Publix off 86th. 

“And you’re aware that Mr. Williams lives off of 86th?” 

“Sure,” Harry nods. 

“Alright, and I’m assuming you’re unaware that Miss Canaue saw a man with a similar appearance the night of the tenth?” Y/N’s eyes watched Harry’s carefully as he decided his next words carefully. 

“No, I did not know that, but I go down that route every day. Don’t see how that makes me a suspect.” 

“Yes, but you were sick,” Y/N pressed. 

“Yeah, had a bug,” he repeated. 

“Right, so you were sick and left your apartment once- possibly twice- that day and still managed to be around his home?” 

Harry let out an obnoxious groan and ran a hand over his face, “It’s the fuckin grocery store off the largest street here. If that makes me a suspect better get everyone who has brunette curls,” he argued. 

“Harry you’re not the only suspect. And you’re not on trial.”

He let out a scoff at Y/N’s ironic comment, “Yeah but if you don’t believe me, I will be,” he said, “Falsely,” he muttered. 

-

It was a wonder that he hadn’t taken up the offer to leave whenever he felt uncomfortable considering Harry was repeating a string of curses towards the poor girl in his mind like a mantra. 

He had been sitting in the uncomfortable fold out chair for two hours and Y/N’s posture has deteriorated significantly in their time- though she was just as scary as the first moment she strode into the room. 

Harry was deciding if it was the confidence that surged from her body or if it was the navy pantsuit she wore that made her seem like a lawyer going into the courtroom with a billionaire- she just had a way about her that screamed power and Harry loved it- he was intrigued and distracted by her, though he also wanted to shove her out of the room. 

“Mr. Styles?” she asked with a sharp tone, “On the twelfth you were out partying?” she asked, confused. 

Harry nodded, “Correct.”

“Then why did you take off work?” 

“It was the day my mum- Anne died. Take it off every year and go to my best mates house. He throws a party and I get drunk.”

“Mr. Horan, yes? He’s a suspect as well,” Y/N mumbled. 

“What did he get too close to 86th? Is it because he’s embracing the natural brown of his hair? Told him he should’ve stayed blonde,” Harry snapped back. He was impossibly tired and more than ready to be headed home- he didn’t do anything- that he was certain of. 

Y/N’s eyes trace her file and slowly find Harry’s, “If you don’t want to continue you are more than welcome to come back another day but I do not appreciate the tone you are using. You are not on trial and Mr. Horan is not on trial. We are just trying to find information.”

Harry’s eyes diverted quickly. He felt like he was being scolded by his mum after getting a bad grade on a math test; ‘It’s not my fault my teacher sucks!’ he would defend.

“It just seems like I’ve been here for ages and we aren’t getting anywhere- am I really just a suspect or are you lot convinced I’m the murderer of another murderer?” 

“It seems you have strong feelings towards Mr. Williams and it seems as though we are not reaching when we assume you had something to do with it- whether that be hiring someone or doing it yourself we don’t know,” Y/N sighs out. 

She uncrosses her legs and folds her arms above the table. Leaning into her own body, she comments with just low enough of a volume to be deemed seductive, “Am I incorrect with my assumption, Mr. Styles?” 

Harry mirrored her body language, “Extremely. I had nothing to do with this. Wasn’t even conscious.” 

“Am I incorrect in my reasoning?”

Harry takes a long pause knowing he has to choose his words carefully, “No but that reasoning can be applied to far too many people for you to make a definitive conclusion.” 

Y/N tuts softly while reading over her evidence, “Alright fair enough.” She maintains eye contact with Harry for a short moment before putting the papers back into the manila file folder. 

“What’re you doing?” Harry perks up, straightening his posture and pushes his chair back slightly.

“We have been going in circles for two hours. I think we are in need of a break, no?”

“Uh- sure yeah,” Harry left a pregnant pause before he spoke again, “Do you- uh- do you want to get food?” 

Y/N stood from her chair with a relieved sigh. She checks her watch before looking at Harry, “I think that’s a conflict of interest,” she sent him a soft smile. 

“What if we just conveniently end up at the same restaurant?” Harry asks, “Then maybe our tables are right next to each other so we just decide to sit at the same table to save space.”

Y/N lets out a soft chuckle and glances at the microphone that sat at the table. Harry eyes the microphone and stands up, his jacket dropping on top of it. 

“I’ll be at the café down the road in ten minutes- please don’t be late,” Y/N whispers. Harry sends her a smile before nodding slightly and picking up his jacket, making his way to the door, leaving in a hurried motion. 

Y/N smiles to herself before following him, leaving at a leisurely pace. “We’ll be back in an hour, Theresa. Keep the room open, please.”

-

Y/N was purposefully vague with her location- she didn’t know if he was just fucking around or if he genuinely wanted to have lunch. So, she settled on telling him it was a café- one of four that was down the road from the station. She said not to be late so she knew that if he found her, he was being serious. 

It was an odd precaution to take, but she was not going to allow Harry, a supposed murderer, seduce her into relieving his suspect status. She was careful and calculated for that reason. She wanted to ensure that he wasn’t using her in the many ways he could.

Y/N was a beautiful woman and Harry was not blind to that. She sat prim and proper and wore clothes that fit her body just right. Her face, though seemingly free of makeup, seemed to be the most attractive one he’s seen in ages- though he would never let that slip. As much as he could deny his involvance with the case, he was a suspect and getting lunch with his interrogator is all too suspicious to begin with. 

“You found me,” she smiled once she saw Harry’s curls in her peripheral vision. 

“Honest to god, it was the first place I looked. And I used to come here all the time. Food’s the best,” he said, settling in across from her. 

She looked up from the menu she held in her hands, “Used to?” 

“Am I still under interrogation?” Harry asked while setting his coat across his chair. 

“Are there still cameras here?” Y/N countered. 

“Probably,” Harry shrugged, “You can never be too sure.” He nodded in appreciation as a waiter passed him and handed him a menu of his own. “I stopped coming when my mum passed. We would come here for brunch every Sunday with my sister. Haven’t really been here all too often in the past few years.” 

Y/N hummed in understanding, “Makes sense. I only come here after a long shift. Not exactly my favorite place to eat but it’s close. And good enough.” 

“What do you mean not the best,” Harry’s jaw dropped dramatically. 

“What have you not been to the diner downtown? Maybe three blocks from here?” 

“Uh, no?” 

“Well that’s why this is sufficient for you,” she jokes, “Nothing compares to that place.”

“What does it have sentimental value to you?” 

“A bit. Used to go there all the time when I was in school. I did everything there- studied, talked,” she paused, “ate.”

“Yes, the most important. Eating.” Harry countered. 

“Okay, so what do you recommend from here?” 

“Well, for breakfast, I’d say the tofu scramble, for lunch I’d order the meatball sub- marinara and melted cheese of course,” Harry looked up at the girl in front of him to see she had a wide smile.

“Of course.”

“For a snack I’d get any pastry- they have new ones all the time so I just try what sounds good. They’re always unbelievable. And for dinner,” Harry hums while scanning the menu, “For dinner I liked the french onion soup,” Harry concluded. 

Y/N’s face scrunched together in disbelief, “French onion soup? God, you are crazy.” 

“I’ll be honest I don’t like it from anywhere but here. It’s just done so well,” Harry confesses.

“I won’t take your word for it. Sorry,” Y/N says, “But I will try that meatball sub. Can you order for me? I don’t know what exactly to say,” she trailed off, her lower lip jutting out slightly with that request. 

Harry hummed a yes before getting up to fulfill the request. Y/N’s eyes followed his body diligently. He walked with a sense of purpose and carried his body easily- it was almost scary to the girl who sits across from his empty seat. What was his purpose?

He stood watching the chef make their two identical sandwiches in a comforting silence. He was taken back to his youth where this was a regular occurrence- watching the older man as he puts the subs under broiler so the cheese could melt just right- something he always found fascinating. He could probably make the sub from memory after watching it be made so many times. 

He nodded in appreciation, paying for the subs in exact change before bringing them back to their table, “Two meatball subs with melted cheese and marinara.” 

“Of course,” Y/N smiled, beginning to eat the (surprisingly) amazing sandwich. 

-

Harry ended up going back to a station for another hour before leaving back to his studio for the night. He had a great lunch with Y/N and was filled with a lifetime of regret for not getting her number. He knew if he called the station for it, the call would be recorded and she would get in trouble. So, he was stuck. 

It was less than a day since their last meeting and there he was, sitting in front of a bare wall with his eyes locked on the texture that could be seen over the white paint. He found himself in a fit of fury with himself- maybe he should say he has more information so he could see her again? But he knew that wouldn’t bode well for the case.

He had no way to contact her, but then again, he wasn’t in a position to speak to her outside of the case anyway. He was still a suspect and she was still his investigator, even if she was a funny, uplifting girl who he had found himself thinking about constantly. 

The only way they could make contact would be if she went into his file to find his number, or in other words, their reconnecting lies on the flimsiest threads. And that devastated the man. 

He was apprehensive to go out drinking again. He always seemed to black out; not remembering a single detail from his previous night's adventures. But, he found that not remembering was the key to getting over the girl in the navy pantsuit, so he decided to forget.

He had gone out with Niall, going bar hopping for a few hours before Harry couldn’t stand anymore and he passed out in a bar bathroom. Niall was busy with a girl he had seen when he walked in so Harry was alone. He felt the world revolving around him as he laid against the bar countertop with his head on his arms. 

Y/N didn’t notice it was Harry when she walked into the bar. In fact, she didn’t even see him. His back was slumped over his body and the poor guy seemed to be out of his mind. It was a wonder that she had a feeling she knew the man. 

She stood next to him as she asked for a scotch on the rocks with a twist- her usual. She glanced at the man a few times, trying her hardest to not be rude, “I’m sorry, is he okay?” she asked the bartender who just shrugged in response before moving to another customer. 

Y/N let out a frustrated sigh before gently bringing a hand to his shoulder, “Sir?” she called to him. 

He let out a few grumbles before moving his head up slightly, “I’m alright,” he slurred together before dropping his head back down. 

“I don’t think you are,” she muttered to herself before sitting down in the seat next to his, “Do you have someone who can take you home?”

“I have two working legs.”

“I don’t think they are working very well tonight,” she chuckled at him. 

He groaned before moving his head to look at the girl who was sitting next to him, “My friends somewhere ‘round here,” his eyes shut even tighter than before.

That’s when Y/N recognized the man who sat next to her. Her eyes widened in realization, “Harry?” she asked in shock.

Harry’s eyes opened instantly at the sound of his name. He let out a sigh when he saw it was just Y/N. “Thought I heard my mum’s voice. Don’t do that to me,” he tells her. 

“Why are you here?” she asks as Harry sits up. 

Harry paused before answering, “I have my reasons.”

Y/N chuckled, “Well alright. I’m going to head out. Stay safe tonight, Harry,” she told him.

Harry was quick to reply, “Wait!” he called after her.

Y/N turned around, slightly unimpressed with his timing, “Yes?”

“Can I- can I get your number?” he asks, his syllables hardly pronounced. 

Y/N glanced at her friends who were off dancing before looking back at Harry, “Sure,” she responded. 

Harry’s face was quick to become one of pure excitement, looking exactly like a kid in a candy shop, “Alright,” he fumbled a bit while handing her his phone.

It was routine for Niall to be gone into the night with a random girl- truly it was routine for Harry to be gone too. But, he had a change of heart recently so he began wandering the streets on his own before finding his way home in the depth of the night.

He wasn’t fully sure of where he was going but he knew he would find his way back eventually- just an overpriced uber ride away from his home. He began by walking to his mother's grave. It wasn’t a new thing that he did but it hurt just as much each time. He would go sit with her and grieve silently as the night washed away from him.

Old habits die hard and there he was at the graveyard’s entrance looking to see if anyone was there. It was three in the morning but he knew the night was just beginning. People were still out and people, alike from Harry, were grieving. 

He sat there at his mother's grave for a while, his thoughts racing. He felt as if he wasn’t in control of his own body. The whole world was speeding by and his legs carried him in circles around the town, always leading back to the graveyard, as Harry’s brain was extremely detached from his actions.

That probably explains why what he did next was so shocking to him. 

He wasn’t fully conscious- he couldn’t tell you anything that has happened since he left the bar. Harry was out of it. That was a fact. He stood at his mother's gravestone, a knife in hand (the one he kept hidden under a pile of slowly rotting flowers that he would bring once a week). 

He stood to his full height when he saw the headlights approaching the lot next to him. Out stepped a young man white rich, red hair. He was tall, taller than Harry, and he had a devastated look on his face. 

Harry guessed the man was in his very early twenties. He looked like a university student who got to go off campus for the weekend. There seemed to be another person in the car but it was hard for him to see properly, ‘If I can’t see them, they can’t see me, right?’ he told himself.

Harry watched the man approach a grave a bit farther from where he stood. He waited exactly two minutes before walking towards him with a sinister smile masked on his face. 

The man’s eyes flickered to Harry’s before going back to the grave, “I’m sorry for your loss,” Harry speaks lowly to the man. 

He looked directly as Harry and mustered up a small smile before his eyes widened in realization. Harry’s hand made contact with his chest, the knife slicing through his body readily. The color of the crimson blood made him grin- he felt justice when he saw the blood oozing off another human: first his mum, then her murderer, and now an innocent. 

Harry was very satisfied, ready to walk back to his home and wash the blood off his hands, quite literally, when he heard a few footsteps crunching the dead leaves that had fallen on the ground in the dead of winter. 

And that’s when he heard her angelic voice calling out his name. He could only imagine the expression on her face while her voice, as smooth as honey, called out to him, “Harry?” 

He turned expectantly to the woman he had grown infatuated with, “Hello, Y/N.”

[jawabear]

Hello! I have a writing request 🥺 for Javi (Narcos). Can Y/n be a forensic psychiatrist, so Javi's coworker, but like from a different branch in the DEA. And can they be sort of friends, but you know, with the soft fuzzy feelings of something more than friendship. Oh, and if it isn't too much, could you include prompt 110? I'd like some fluff, maybe with some angst in the beginning. I read "Flowers' and I really liked it, so maybe that kind of vibe. Thank you already and happy holidays! 🥺

One Visit (Javier Peña X Reader)

Not my GIF

A/N: I apologise for taking so long in writing this Anon. It was a challenge but I really enjoyed writing it. I hope I managed to write something close to what you requested or at least something you can enjoy. I got a little carried away so it’s a bit longer that I originally intended. I took it that the prompt you meant was from my prompt list but I apologise if not. Thank you for requesting! It was an interesting request and I’m glad you like my other story Flowers. That’s one of my favourites. Italics represent thoughts and flashback (I hope you’re able to figure out which is which). I hope you enjoy it. Sorry for any mistakes. Stay safe.

Genre: Angst, Fluff

Warnings: Fem!Reader, drinking, smoking, Javi struggling with his feelings, Steve being annoying, talks of death

Summary: One visit. That’s all it took for him to remember his feelings for her.

“All I’m saying, Javi, is that it wouldn’t hurt to just try dating” Steve reiterate for his friend as they walked through the halls of the DEA office on their way outside.

This was all Steve had been going on about for the past two week. Javi getting a girlfriend. It wasn’t really that Javier was against getting a girlfriend. He just didn’t think he deserved one. Nor did he think he was boyfriend material. But he really didn’t know why Steve was all of a sudden hell bent on finding him a girl.

“Is there really no in you like?”

“I really have no idea what your obsession is with finding me a date, but can you stop?” Javi sighed.

Finally they made it outside and Javi was thankful to get some fresh air after being stuck inside all day which was really the only reason they had come outside in the first place. But as they were there, they both decided to light up a cigarette.

A little while into their smoke, a car pulled up outside the DEA building drawing both agents’ attention. From out of the back of the sleek black car came a girl. She pulled a bag from the car and swung it over her shoulder. She said something to the driver and gave him a smile before closing the car door and turning towards the building.

“Holy shit” Javi whispered as he threw his cigarette to the floor and stubbed it out with his foot.

Steve noticed the way Javi’s eyes never left her as she walked over to him. She smiled and waved to him and he gave an acknowledge nod and a quick and nervous smile. “Hey Javi!” She said happily as she stopped a little distance away from the two agents.

“(Y/N)” he said, not sound as happy as she did, he sounded a little nervous or flustered. “What are you doing here?” He asked.

“Apparently you’re new boss wants to meet me. I don’t know why she wants to meet me when I’m not the one in charge of the department but according to my boss I’m the “best in the business” or something like that” she said using air quotes.

“As humble as ever I see” he commented making her laugh slightly. Steve stood there awkwardly as the two stared at each other. He could see what was happening even if they couldn’t.

He cleared his throat catching both Javi’s and (Y/N)’s attention. “Hi, I’m Steve Murphy. Javier’s partner” Steve introduced him self knowing that Javi wouldn’t. He held out his hand and she took it with a smile and shook it.

“(Y/N) (L/N)” She said “I’m a forensic psychiatrist for the DEA”

“Well, that a whole load of words I don’t understand” Steve joked making (Y/N) laugh cutely. Javi loved her laugh but not when it was directed at someone other than him.

“Well, I’ve got to go” she said as she removed her hand from Steve’s “it was lovely meeting you Steve. And it’s always a pleasure Javi. I’m sure I’ll see you both around but I really should get going”

“Y-Yeah, bye (Y/N)” Javi smiled softly to her as she walked past them and into the building.

Javi glance at Steve who was smirking at him “what the hell are you looking at me like that for?” He asked angrily.

“No reason” Steve said throwing his smoke to the floor and patting Javier’s shoulder. “No reason at all” he said before walking back inside. Javier let out a heavy sigh and rubbed over his face.

“Of all the fucking people” he mumbled as he looked up. He wasn’t really talking to anyone, unless there was a god up there who was listening and who hated him. He shook his head and followed his partner back inside.

The two agents sat back at their desks, Javi was reading through some files while Steve sat there. Watching and calculating. It was blindingly obvious what was happening and Steve simply found it funny that Javier was either an idiot or ignoring it.

“So it’s (Y/N) then?” Steve said finally after watching his friend for about ten minuets. He was trying his hardest but failing to contain his smirk.

“What?” Javi was trying to ignore him by distracting himself with papers but the mention of (Y/N)’s name always made him listen.

“It’s (Y/N)” Steve said again “it’s her who you like”

“Are you really still on this?” Javier sighed as he lit up a cigarette.

“Well, I’m just saying that she is a very beautiful girl and you two seemed to get on pretty well. Maybe you should ask her out” Steve suggested.

“I’m not a kid, Murphy. And besides, she wouldn’t go out with me anyway” he mumbled the last part but Steve caught it loud and clear.

“Is she single?” He asked.

Javier was losing his patience a little with his partner “as far as I’m aware. Yes, she is single” he answered. Javi could already guess the next words that would come out of his partner’s mouth and he didn’t want to hear it. “I’m not discussing this with you anymore” he said sternly “stop fucking about and actually do something” Steve just made a noise before standing and leaving, probably to go get a coffee.

Javi sighed again and held his head in his hands. He was getting stressed out because Steve was right. Of course he was right. Javi did like (Y/N). He had since the moment they met. But what’s not to like? She smart, funny, caring and so beautiful. It was a wonder to him that she hadn’t got a boyfriend yet. Any guy would be lucky to have her. He just wanted to be that guy.

What the hell is wrong with me? He though angrily as he ran his hands through his hair. Pull yourself together Javier. It’s not going to happen.

Meanwhile, (Y/N) was sat in Messina’s office listening to her ramble on about how things work now she’s in charge and whatnot. But (Y/N) wasn’t really listening to what she was saying. She was too distracted in her own thoughts.

Anyone who worked for the DEA knew about Javier Peña’s reputation. Everyone knew he was the asshole. Everyone knew his way of getting information. And for someone with the right mind, that would be enough to put them off him. But not (Y/N). Oh no.

Perhaps it was just her analytical nature that came with her job role that drew her to the dashing DEA agent. She saw a man who was clearly struggling. A man who was hiding himself from something or someone. Probably himself. She saw someone who by all accounts had dropped most their morals for the sake of a job. But she knew that beyond all that, beneath that cold exterior, was a kind and gentle man who simply wanted to be loved. She knew this because she had seen it.

It was a few months after they had first met. She was still pretty new to Columbia and she hadn’t really made many friends outside the people she worked with closely. Javier was the only other familiar face she knew. They both found themselves at the same bar at the same time, unintentionally of course.

(Y/N) didn’t know whether to approach him but he looked a little run down and she though she could maybe help with whatever was troubling him. She drew in a deep breath and walked over to him taking the empty stool beside him.

“(Y/N)?” He said a little confused to see her in a place such at this. She didn’t at all strike him as a drinker. She was a good girl who always played by the rules and never drank. So he though.

And he was right. She just ordered a glass of water.

“You don’t mind if I sit with you, Javier?” She asked shyly.

“No, of course not” he flashed her a brief smile before downing the rest of his drink, which she guessed to be a whiskey, before he held up his glass gesturing for a refill. “What brings you here?” He asked her as he swirled his freshly poured drink in his glass.

“I um...well I don’t really get out much. Or I didn’t at least when I lived in the states. Believe it or not I’m not a very “out going” person. So I thought that maybe I would try and be different down here, you know, new life and all” she laughed meekly as she circled the rim of her glass “a-and I just needed to clear my head from today...”

“Tough day?” Javi asked, his voice held a caring tone that made her feel warm inside, but he wasn’t looking at her, he was still more interested in his drink.

“The people down here are a lot more...intense than back in the states. I’m not really used to what I’m being given...”

“Well, you must be good at what you do. Other wise they wouldn’t have spent all that money flying you out here to work” he said “don’t worry though (Y/N),” the sweet caring tone of his voice had gone and changed into one of sarcasm “you’ll get used to it and you’ll become the same as everyone else who works in this shithole” he held up his drink and studied it for a brief moment before taking a massive swig “drinking away all your problems...” he mumbled to himself.

“I-Is that what you do?” (Y/N) asked quietly, not wanting to over step any boundaries. After all, they still didn’t really know each other. “You just drink away your problems”

“Yep” he spoke lowly but a hint of humour to his singular word.

“That’s-That’s not a great habit to get into Javier” she said “that’s pretty dangerous”

“Are you trying to get all psychologist on me?” He laughed.

“Psychiatrist” she correct “and no. Not really. But...maybe instead of just drinking, you could talk to someone about what’s going on with you. It might be better, and cheaper”

“(Y/N),” he said flatly as he put his drink on the bar and turned to face her “I haven’t spoken to anyone about my problems since my mother died when I was ten. If anyone cared about my problems, then I wouldn’t have any. But because no one does, I’m stuck with them”

“I care” she said quietly “and not just because it’s kind of my job to care about people but because...out of everyone I’ve met so far in my time being here, you’ve been the nicest to me. And I want to return the favour. So...if you wanted to talk, I’m here to listen even if you don’t want me to help you”

Javier frowned at her words. It wasn’t like a frustrated or fed up frown. It was more of a...sad frown. He swallowed his drink in one go, which was clearly a mistake on his part judging by the sharp hiss he let out from the burn of the drink. He rubbed his forehead as he set his now empty glass down but made no move to ask for another one.

“What do you want to know?” He asked.

The rest of the night they talked and they talked. Somehow, she managed to get him to open up to her. Not completely. She could tell that there were things he was not willing to share with her, at least not yet. But she saw a side of him that no one ever had. A warmer side. A more...vulnerable side.

Javi told her about his close relationship to his mother and how heart broken he was when she died. That was something he had never told anyone. He never spoke of his family, and certainly not his mother. But it seemed after that, he just kept going. He said how much he missed her and how much he needed her.

She didn’t tell him this because she didn’t quite know how to word it without making things seem worse. But in her head she came to the conclusion that his behaviour towards women was most likely a result of not having that female connection in his life. He didn’t have a loving mother or woman in his life like most people might, and the way he described their bond, clearly it had taken a serious toll on his life. But she wasn’t exactly surprised. The death of anyone in someone’s life can cause problems and pain. Especially a family member.

“Does that all sound doable to you?” Messina’s voice cut through her thoughts bringing her back to reality.

“O-Oh...y-yes. Yes” (Y/N) stuttered as she shifted in her seat to look a little more professional. “No actually. My apologies but I...”

“Wasn’t listening?” Messina said with a slight smile “I appreciate your honesty. It’s more then what I get here. All I was saying was that things are going to be run a bit differently from your end. Your work will stay the same but the work load may be different. Less. These people are dangerous and by the way these missions and raids have been going, it’s far more likely that the offenders you are meant to treat end up six feet under”

“Right...” (Y/N) said quietly with a nod.

“And also, if your up for it, I would like you to come down every so often and maybe check up on some of our own agents here”

“That’s not really what my job is” (Y/N) laughed nervously. She didn’t like telling people no but she wasn’t exactly cut out for the role of councillor to DEA agents.

“I know” Messina nodded “but your boss said you were the one must cut out to do it. It wouldn’t be something that you change from your current position to. Just, every so often coming down here and just talking to the agents. I think you can agree that with things happening in the world right now, everyone could use someone to talk too”

(Y/N) nodded but was still a little on the fence about the whole idea. Technically, it wasn’t too big an ask. She was technically qualified to do it, and it was technically what she was already doing. But what she was doing now was a little more advanced and intense then talking to agents about what they have seen in the field.

But she supposed it wasn’t too different to what she had done with Javi.

“But saying that, they probably wouldn’t even except the help. They prefer to bottle up their emotions and take it out on something or someone else” (Y/N) had a strong suspicion that she was referring to Javi, unless that was just something that all DEA agents did. “Especially agent Peña” There it was.

“Agent Peña” (Y/N) repeated quietly.

“He’s one of our agents focusing on the Escobar case, along with his partner-“

“Steve Murphy. Yes. I met him this morning. Me and Javier already know each other”

“Right” Messina said “well, you go careful with him” (Y/N) didn’t really know what she meant by that but she didn’t have time to question it before Messina stood and held her hand out to (Y/N) “I appreciate you coming out here”

(Y/N) stood too and shook her hand “thank you for having me. It was a pleasure”

“The pleasure was all mine. Let me show you out” just then the phone rang and (Y/N) waved off the offer.

“I know the way” she smiled soft before leaving the office and letting out a deep breath when the door had closed.

“Dude,” Steve said as he leaned over his desk to get Javi’s attention “heads up”

Javi turned and saw (Y/N). He wasn’t quite in control of his body as he ran over to her, offering to show her the way out of the base.

“So how was it?” He asked her.

“It was okay. I don’t really know what I was expecting. I wasn’t really told much about why I was coming here other than the fact she wanted to meet me”

“What did you talk about?”

“Not much. She just filled me in on who she was, her background and all that. And our role in helping the DEA. And...my role in the DEA”

“She didn’t fire you did she?” Javi said quickly.

“No!” She laughed “no, she didn’t fire me. I don’t think she has the power to fire me herself” Javi felt a little bit embarrassed after that “she sort of offered me a new job? I’m not really sure what she is planning though. She wants me to come here every so often to check on you DEA agents. You know, talk to you, make sure you’re okay”

“Well, I can’t imagine anyone else being the one for that role” they reach the outside of the base and came to a stop at the top of the steps. “So...where are you going now?”

“Technically it’s my day off so, home I guess”

“Right” he nodded “I’d give you a ride...but the boss said we’re not allowed off base”

“Following the rules? That’s not like you Javier” she chuckled. “It’s fine though. My ride should be here any second now anyway” as if on cue, the same sleek black car from earlier pulled into the gates “see”

“Y-Yeah” Javi said quietly.

“Well I um...I better go. But it was nice seeing you again Javi, even if it wasn’t for very long”

“Yeah. It was nice. Great. Great to see you again..”

“I’ll um..see you some when” she said as she began walked down the steps towards the car. He just waved as she got to the car and got in.

“Fuck” he swore under his breath watching as the car drove off “fuck”

Time seemed to drag on from that point until it was time to close up shop. The base was near empty aside from Javi, Steve and a few other officers who tended to always flitter around.

Steve let out a groan as he stretched his arms above his head “well,” he began “that’s me done” he dropped his arms and stood grabbing his jacket from the back of his chair and his gun from his desk drawer. “You staying on?”

“Uh...yeah. I’m just gonna...finish up some stuff” Javi said taking a drag of his cigarette.

“Ain’t got a hot date tonight then, huh?” Steve teased.

“No, I do not” Javi mumbled.

“That’s a real shame, man” Steve tutted as he adjusted his jacket.

“Why do you care so much about it anyway?” Javi asked.

“‘Cause you deserve someone Javi. You should’ve asked (Y/N) out. I’m sure she would’ve said yes” Javi didn’t respond, he just continued typing away at the typewriter. “Well, night Javi”

“Yeah” Javier grumbled as his partner left.

It was painfully quiet in the base. There were other officers still lingering about but none that Javi really knew. So really, he was alone.

He stubbed out his cigarette in the ash tray on his desk and leant back in his chair, running his hands over his face and groaning to himself. He dropped his hands and cast his gaze to the phone sitting on his desk.

Her phone number was basically engraved in his heart. He knew it better then he did his own number. Steve’s words played over and over in his head. Maybe he should ask her out.

But the phone just sat there. Mocking him. Laughing at him for being such a cowards. For being too afraid to ask the girl he liked out on a date. Or at least for a drink so he could see her again.

Javi sat forwards and pulled himself closer to his desk. He grabbed the phone but before he could even dial a number he slammed it back down again.

“The fuck is wrong with you?” He said to himself. He was getting annoyed at himself now. But he was still annoyed at Steve for bringing it up so much recently. Just pick up the phone and call her.

So he did. It all happened so quickly but he suddenly found himself with the phone to his ear ringing. He just hoped she answered.

The phone rang and rang and he began to think she wouldn’t answer. He was about to put the phone down but then her voice came through the other line.

“Hello?” She said.

“(Y/N)? It’s Javi” he tried to calm his voice, hopefully the quality of the phone wasn’t clear enough for her to hear his nervous tone.

“Hey Javi. What’s up?” She asked sweetly making his heart pound and palms sweat.

“Oh...uh nothing. I just um...are you busy?” He asked.

“Uh..well I was just about to get ready for bed but-“

He didn’t let her finish before speaking again “you’re busy, don’t worry about it”

“No no!” She said quickly “I’m not. What’s wrong?”

He paused and swapped the phone to his other ear, his leg bouncing nervously as he worked up the courage to ask her out for a drink “would you...like to go get a drink...with me?”

He squeezed his eyes shut and prepared himself for the cold hard rejection. But that wasn’t what he got “I’d love to” she said filling him with relief. He let out an audible sigh of relief that he hoped she didn’t hear.

“Great. I’ll um...meet you at the bar in say..” he looked at his watch “twenty minutes?”

“Sure thing, Javi” she said. He could hear the smile in her voice that made him smile too. “I’ll see you then”

“Yeah. See you then” he hung up the phone and fell back against his chair. He sat there for a moment just trying to comprehend what had just happened before he stood up and grabbed his jacket. He didn’t bother to tidy his desk before he was out the door and in his car driving towards the bar where he would meet her.

The bar was pretty quiet when he got there, which was strange considering the time. But he wasn’t complaining. He took at seat at the bar and ordered his usual drink, a whiskey. He sat there sipping his drink as he waited, the amber liquid calming his nerves.

“Javi,” came a voice from beside him. He tuned and saw (Y/N) taking the seat next to him. “Sorry I’m late” she said before ordering a glass of water.

It took him back to that day.

“I was early” he told her.

“So why did you ask me out here?” She asked as she took a sip of her drink “not that it’s a problem!” She was quick to add worried she had offended him in some way.

“I Uh, it was nice to see you again today and I just...wanted to see you again” he said quietly. She smiled at him and let out a happy noise as she took another sip of her drink.

He looked at her for a moment. There was something different about her from earlier. She looked at him confused but laughed nervously at his gaze “what?” She asked.

“Are you wearing lipstick?” He asked noticing how her lips were a more bold shade of red than usual. In all the time he had known her, he hadn’t ever seen her wear any kind of make up. But she didn’t need it. She was beautiful the way she was. If anything the lipstick was just...wrong. But not it a bad way, he just wasn’t used to seeing it on her.

“O-Oh. You noticed that” she looked away from him staring into her glass. She pulled a piece of hair from behind her ear to cover the side of her face so he wouldn’t see her. She felt like a complete fool.

He shifted closer to her, the stool he was sat on scraped against the floor as he did. Javi reached out and tucked the hair back behind her ear “it looks nice” he said making her looked back at him, her cheeks turning a light shade of pink at the soft touch “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you wear make up before”

“That’s becuase I haven’t. But it was something my cousin bought me as a joke for my birthday last year. She said it would help with all the guys I would get with and kiss”

“Has it worked?”

“No” she laughed “so far I haven’t been with or kissed a single person whilst I’ve been down here”

“Well, you may still find some use for it” he said.

A slightly awkward silence fell over the two of them as the sipped at their drinks, Javi finished first but didn’t ask for a second one. He turned back to look at her watching as she rubbed the now empty glass with her thumb.

“Do you want to go for a drive?” He asked her suddenly.

“A drive?” She asked “where to?”

Javi shrugged as he pulled out his wallet “I don’t know. Just a drive” he said pulling out some cash and throwing it on the bar before hopping off his stool.

“Okay?” She said hesitantly as she got off her own stool and followed him out of the bar to his car.

The drive to begin with was pretty quiet as she stared out the window trying to figure out where he was taking her. He did have a spot in mind but he didn’t want to spoil it for her.

“You’re not taking me somewhere to murder me, are you?” She joked “we seem to be getting away from the city a little bit” she noticed he was driving her to a more remote area rather than the open city. And it was slightly up a mountain too.

“No” he laughed “why would I ever want to murder you?”

She shrugged “I don’t know. Sometimes you don’t need a reason to murder someone”

“Well, I’m not bringing you somewhere to kill you (Y/N)”

“That’s what all murderers say!” She pointed out. He just laughed and pulled onto a patch of grass of the overlook he had brought them to. He brought the car to a stop and she examined the location “yep, definitely a murder spot”

“Jesus (Y/N)” he laughed.

“I don’t think he’s going to be much help” she said. “What is this place, Javi?”

“Come on” he said as he took off his seatbelt and got out the car. She followed suit and stood next to him as he leant against the front of his car.

“Oh my god” she gasped. She was in awe of the way the city looked from up there. The sky was completely clear of clouds as was full of beautiful silver stars. The lights from the houses were stars in their own right, but golden ones. She was pretty much lost for words at the sight.

“I know” Javi said “when you’re up here, looking down on this place, it’s hard to believe there’s a drug war going on”

“It’s a shame that a country as beautiful as this one won’t ever be known for...this” she said quietly “how did you find this place?”

“I don’t really know” he said “you get to a point where you just need to keep on going. And that’s what I did. I just kept driving and I ran out of fuel right here. But I’ve been coming back here ever since. It just...a nice place to be”

“It is very nice” she smiled to him. The conversation stopped for a moment as they both just enjoyed the sight. Enjoying how peacefully quite it was. And how fresh it was too.

“How many girls have you brought up here?” She asked his quietly.

“Out of everyone I’ve brought up here, you’re my favourite” he said “but that’s mainly down to the fact I’ve never brought anyone else up here other than myself”

“Well, I’m honoured to be the first” she said “thank you for bringing me up here Javi”

“You’re welcome. It’s nice to share it with someone...” he mumbled the last part but she still heard him.

(Y/N) just looked at him the same way he had looked at her earlier in the bar. She was trying to figure something out. He looked at her giving her the same nervous look she had, “what?” He said.

“Just something Messina said”

“Oh god, what did she say? That I’m a shit agent?”

“That I should be careful with you”

Javi didn’t speak right away, he shifted his stance and looked down “Yeah, I guess she had a point” he muttered “I’ve really made a name for myself. It’s no surprise that half the fucking DEA thinks I’m an asshole, the other half just have no idea who I am in general”

“I think she was wrong” (Y/N) said “I think they are all wrong about you Javier. You’re not an asshole Javi, at least not all the time. You’re just like every other person. And I think everyone is wrong to think so badly of you. Because you’re not a bad person”

“(Y/N), you don’t have to say that. You can tell me the truth. I get that it’s you’re job to make people feel good about themselves and shit like that but you don’t have to do that with me”

“I am telling you the truth” her voice was quiet and made him look at her, meeting her beautiful eyes with his “and my job isn’t just about making people feel good about themselves and shit like that, it’s about making people believe that they are good. It’s about helping people...and I...I want to help you”

“Why do you want to help me, (Y/N)?”

“Because I...” she stopped herself for a moment and looked at him, his eyes baring down on her as he awaited her answer.

“You what?” He pressed softly. He had turned his body to face her completely, standing incredibly close to her. “You what, (Y/N)?” He didn’t give her a chance to respond before he smashed his lips against hers. She felt her knees go weak at the sudden contact. She brought her hands up to grip his arms to hold her self steady as she returned the kiss. Javier slipped his arms around her waist pulling her towards him slightly. With his arms supporting her, she moved her hand up to thread her fingers through his soft hair.

“Because I love you” she whispered when he pulled back from her lips “and I believe you are worth helping, and I want you to see yourself as I see you”

“And how do you see me (Y/N)?” He asked in a low voice as he gently rubbed his nose against hers making her heart flutter as she stroked the back of his head with her thumbs.

“Someone who just wants to be loved” she admitted to him.

“Only if I’m loved by you” he whispered before kissing her again, deeper this time and not so hard. His arms wrapped more firmly around her, drawing her as close to him as possible without hurting her.

“Oh you are Javi” she whispered against his lips “you are”

2/01/21

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