#anyways; this is a really long answer to a question nobody asked but i wanted to answer for a long time

[quanblovk]

QUAN LIFE UPDATE REAL???

my hiatus is taking long mostly because im active on discord! And I think I need to get my general brain fog checked out. It's been getting worse and SHEESH- i need to learn how to deal with that so I can properly draw again. It's been nothing but doodles and I can't focus on answering my asks either.

Also, I figured that this has been a long time coming but- I wanted to come out about my honest feelings about Sir Uther.

He's one of the villains who I've spent the most time creating. Thanks to the tourney, i've been able to truly flesh out his lore and more importantly- who he is as a person! Though admittedly, I need to point out that I always felt like a lot of that was overlooked. I put Uther out there to be absolutely bullied and a lot of people got the memo! We had a ton of fun. But- I'd be lying if I didn't feel like people were just turning Uther into a watered down bad guy to laugh at without considering me in the picture. I've had comments where I felt like people were projecting their idea of an abuser onto Uther with no consideration whatsoever and just turned him into a strawman where they can finally have an epic moment where they totally "own" him. Obama was there, type shit.

I need to say that Sir Uther is extremely magicphobic and its always fun to poke at it and compare it to other discriminatory practices. But I need to reiterate- Sir Uther is not actually a cishet man, nor is he actually lgbt+phobic in anyway. I feel weird knowing that its safe to just assume someone like Uther immediately hates gay people just because he's supposed to be hated. Halcandra doesn't really have the concept of lgbtq+ labels either, since being queer is kind of the norm there. It doesn't have a true history of people being oppressed for how they express themselves, so Uther would not have any true reason to be homophobic. Hell- his old FRIENDS were queer. And he genuinely doesn't mind his son(s) being gay!

So that really took some fun out of the gag, and some of the jokes made about him really didn't make me laugh as a result. These are just a few bad moments though and I know that nobody held any malicious intent. I feel like my followers should atleast know this.

All in all, Sir Uther was created to be a punching bag, but I never liked how people didn't punch him right, if that makes sense. To a character I spent so much time on to make him complex- it's honestly insulting to just ignore it all and turn Uther into your strawman caricature. /lh

It's always safe to not assume, and im always happy to answer questions if they aren't spoilery! If they were spoilery, i'd prefer for things to still not be assumed.

[nochepsicodelica]

"All those drinks are gonna do you dirty, ma. You're gonna throw up if you don't get some food in your system, so eat," Toji says, pushing the box closer to you.

You giggle at his serious face, before standing up from your chair for the fourth time, trying to go around him. Toji's used to this by now and stands up, bringing you back down to your chair.

"Stop getting up and eat your food. You literally begged for this. Why aren't you eating it?"

"Why aren't you eating it?" You return, raising your brows at him, seductively. It doesn't come off too sexy when raising your eyebrows makes you immediately squint because of the light going into your sensitive eyes, but it does lure a chuckle out of Toji.

"I'm ignoring that. Just eat. I don't wanna hear you upchucking in a couple hours."

"You won't hold my hair back?" You pout. Your feigned little flash of sadness produces real tears in this state, so it's a little confusing for Toji when you start giggling while wiping at your reddened cheeks.

"Your food's getting cold. I know how you are about reheating fast food, so eat it before it goes to waste."

You smile at him, your eyelids almost completely shut in your drunken daze. Toji can't even lie, it's cute. It's the only reason he's not up the wall about this little situation. Then you decide to drop a bomb on him.

"I'm not hungry anymore. Too tired to eat." You rest your chin on your palm, shutting your eyes. It feels nice. It would take less than thirty seconds for you to fall asleep.

Fuck. Think, think, think...

"Hey." Toji pokes your forehead, lightly, earning a hum and a furrow of your brows. "What if I feed you?"

You laugh, giddily. "Ooo, you trying to romance me?"

"Sure, if you eat."

You laugh again. "Toji, you dog, you. I'm not putting out." You shake your head, eyes closed with a dumb grin on your face. "No, sir. It's food and then goodnight for me."

"You already put out for me, earlier, doll." He smirks at the way you blush, clearly having an 'oh, yeah...' moment. "Eat some more so we can go to sleep."

"Hm?" You hum, rolling your eyes open after your blink of sleep. You crack a grin as soon as you look at Toji. "You wanna kiss me sooo bad. Look at you."

"I'm not gonna kiss you. You're not listening. You think you deserve kisses for that?"

"Uh... yes? I mean no. Pshhh, nooo. Of course, not."

"That's right. So eat, or you'll go to sleep without kisses, tonight."

"Noooo," you whine, dramatically. "Wait! Fine, fine. Look." You take a huge bite of your sandwich, your cheeks puffing up as you chew. "Oh, this is really good," you say, muffled by your mouthful of food.

"Don't choke, doll. Small bites are fine," he says, picking up a napkin and wiping the excess condiments off your face.

You push through it and gulp down the bite. "That was a lot. Got bread stuck on the roof of my mouth." You take a sip of your drink to wash it all down. "Did I look so pretty for the party, today?" You ask, your lips curling as you put the cup back down.

"You did, mama. Stunning. Swept everyone there, off their feet."

You smile, the gesture transitioning into a giggle. "Even Shiu?"

"Yup. Even Shiu said he wanted a piece of you."

You gasp. "No... Did you fight him?"

"Nah, I wanted to, but I kept my cool. If he had put his hands on you, then I might have, but I had my eye on you all night, to make sure nobody did more than look at you."

"I wouldn't have followed him anywhere, anyway." You roll your eyes, suddenly so hostile against the host of the party. "Probably would've kicked him in the nuts and gone to find you."

"Yeah, that's a smart idea, doll."

Toji's elaborate answers to your questions kept you awake long enough for you to mindlessly eat while he talked. You were at the end of the sandwich when you realized how much you had eaten and how full you were.

"Can't... do it..." You groan, lying on the arm you have extended on the table. "Too full." You sigh, heavily, setting the rest of the sandwich down on the scattered fries in its box.

"That's good, ma. You don't have to eat it, anymore. We can go to bed, now."

You let out another heavy sigh, sluggishness washing over you before you force yourself to stand up from your chair, this time with Toji's 'okay'. He looks at your little belly as it protrudes from your dress, proof of how full you actually are, and pokes at it. Your usually soft tummy is temporarily stiff and it's adorable.

You grab Toji's hand so that you don't stumble as you walk. Before leaving the table, he finished the remainder of your sandwich in one bite and threw out the container with the remaining cold fries.

"Damn, you were right, baby. That was good."

"Mhm," you mumble, waiting for him to lead you to the room.

Toji helped you brush your teeth and wash your face, and when you finally made it to the room, he helped you dress down into comfier clothes. Now, you're in bed together and you're in his arms trying to doze off, but you can't with the way he's smothering your face with kisses. It's just kiss after kiss with him and you can't focus, but it is what you wanted. After all, you stuffed your face for this.

[parfaitblogs]

astronomy ❀ s. reid x reader

in which nothing can live forever, and you would be naive to believe that something as minor as this relationship will be exempt from that fate. 

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader genre: angst tags: s10 spencer reid. maeve as a plot point. argument yay. spencer says some mean things (#needthat). all around unhappiness. stars and light and the sun. lack of communication. reader my avoidant attachment queen. i’m holding your hand throughout 🫂 word count: 2.7k a/n: a late happy mercury retrograde. sorry for disappearing off the face of the earth for a hot minute. here's how my brains been feeling. i don't really know what this is. it was written amidst a dissociative episode. hopefully future me figures it out.

"your worst sin is that you have destroyed and betrayed yourself for nothing." (fyodor dostoevsky) 

A melodic hum of air whirs in this apartment. Keeping dust particles from settling on too many surfaces, swirling around your heads. Tiny, and unseen, but there. You familiarise yourself with the thought of them being there. They tickle your skin when you sit down in the armchair nobody ever really resides in now, and you find comfort in knowing there is more that exists invisibly than just your own feelings. 

He does not say anything to you as you tuck your feet beneath yourself, and it hurts, but a large part of you doesn't want him to anyways. He will only say things that will liquidise your brain into thinking he cares more than he does, and you have had too long of a day to act like he is not using bare palms to crush your heart. Too heavy of a week to let him bypass your walls once again. 

A foreign voice tells the air you need to talk, and you distantly recognise it as your own. You had rehearsed the very sentence in your car a thousand times. Once it got past your lips, this would all become easier to discuss. 

It isn't. 

You're focussed on the steam that lifts from a cup of coffee he had probably made seconds before you knocked on his door. An impromptu visit he did not ask you for, but you hope he understands your awful guest manners once this is all over. 

"Talk about what?" he answers the question you don't even remember asking, and out of the corner of your eye, you see him tense when a shuddering breath leaves your lips. 

You wonder if he's shocked when you tell him you want to end things. 

It's storming outside. The rain pelting against the window mirrors your heavy heart, but you aren't too naive to believe it is storming in your name. Though, there are few pleasures in life you still enjoy these days, and perhaps pretending the universe is centring around you for just this one night isn't selfish. 

"You want to end things," he repeats your words back to you. They don't sound right. Like a language Earth's never discovered. Two weeks ago you wouldn't have ever dreamed uttering these words. 

Two weeks ago, you were incandescent. Light bounced off your skin, the rays of sunlight creating a halo around you that would leave anyone breathless. Spencer Reid would never be an outlier in that demographic. 

You'd sat in a very similar position to how you are now, but your head was in the space between his jawline and his shoulder, and your hands were woven within his. Thumbs stroked the skin, and he'd bitten back a comment about how soft you felt. 

Unfinished — but definitely touched — Thai food sat atop the coffee table in front of your bodies, and the tenth Doctor Who episode in a row was playing on the television. He'd discovered your weakness for his widened eyes and hands-on coercion, and used and abused the power ever since. 

He stared down at you, and you could feel him without the need to look up. You should've. Perhaps, if you'd crawled out of the comfort being physically entwined with Spencer Reid on his living room couch provided, you would've noticed that beneath his intense gaze on the sunlight encircling your body, he was thinking about the dead. 

You didn't, though. You had laughed as he quoted lines as they were said of the episode he'd no doubt seen a thousand times, shoving his shoulder and calling him a nerd with the stupidest grin on your face, and the sweetest flutter of your heart. 

He said, "Nerd is a noun to describe someone who is an expert in one particular thing. I am an expert in a lot more than one."

And you replied, "Oh, of course. My mistake. What else are you an expert in, Spencer?"

Your skin would tingle, because he'd take the invitation for what it was, and his lips would brush against your ear as he whispered, "You, for starters."

And you'd get whiplash from how easy he was to go from the biggest dork on the planet to the very reason you researched early onset heart attacks. 

One week ago, you were cracking. 

Instead of the halo glow that settled around your body, it'd fractured. Sticks of light throwing out in every direction, but still reflecting back the hope you had for this crumbling relationship. 

Knives pelted into your edges with every new piece of information you learnt. 

A book you'd never paid mind to, now opened on the front page, a dedication to his name, accompanied by another name you'd only heard in passing whispers. The written down addresses of the nearest pay phones from his apartment, a phone number circled three times in the corner of the page. Written down for no reason. You knew he didn't need it, really. The slow withdrawals of telling you about his life the further into it he gets. Not mentioning more about a past relationship than that it'd ended tragically. 

The more dots you connected, the closer your personal implosion neared. 

You'd apologised to him, saying you didn't want him to relive anything that would return his mind somewhere darker than you can ever fathom. 

"I have you, now. I can't ever get there again even if I tried to," he said. You stupidly took his words with full intent, head reeling and heart racing all over again. 

You smiled, and kissed him. He tasted of coffee and content. He kissed you back with more force than you had left in you, and you'd gone down like a sinking ship. Falling back against his couch cushions, fingers entwined in his hair. 

Each new day was another loss to cut. Four days ago, it was his hands refusing to touch you intimately. Even when you'd moved them for him, pleading him with your own body. Three days ago, it was his honesty. You'd grown desperate. 

Questioning if he was okay and receiving a wordless hum in response. If he wanted to order food, and getting a disgruntled non-answer. Sitting with a foot between your two bodies this time, albeit with your feet in his lap, so maybe you were just as close as you were last week by principle. Finally, seeing if he actually wanted you there, with him, and him taking more than one second to give you his, 

"Yes. Obviously."

You lack energy when you are trying so desperately to stay alive, so you did not question why he had to think about his answer, unsure if you needed him to tell you, regardless. His mind was increasingly becoming preoccupied with the girl behind his book dedication. Behind the payphone addresses, and the thrice times circled phone number. He was disintegrating before your eyes, and your relationship was slipping through the cracks. 

"Why?" he asks you, and you're forced to stop reliving every single moment that brought you here. You will again tomorrow, anyways. The day after that, too. You will probably live through the end of this relationship a thousand times before you begin to heal. A thousand, to mirror every single shard of your heart lain out before him. 

Your voice hurts to use when you reply. "Because you don't love me, Spencer."

You're grateful he doesn't scramble to disprove your claims. You're sure it would hurt even more to hear him force a lie. 

He does, however, look confused. By you. Not your words, though. You know they register fully because the confusion doesn't come until you meet his eyes, and he really takes you in. For the first time since you met him, you see the truth behind his gaze. A disgusting reality that he is not staring at you with love, or even a hint of recognition. 

No, to him, you are a stranger. Somebody he does not know, sitting in his unused armchair across the living room, telling him words you don't really want to be saying. You don't get that luxury of choice, though. 

"Your silence is answer enough," you murmur, and you force your limbs to react to your brain's signals, feet pressed firmly on the floor as you stand. 

"Hey, wait," he stops you from moving without even a lick of firmness. You grow sick, knowing he will always have some subconscious hold on you that you'll never not respond to. "Why do you say that? Have I done something to make you feel that way?"

Yes, you want to scream. Yes, you have, and I'm begging you to tell me I'm wrong and that you do love me. Instead, you're jumping through hoops to turn this into an unnecessary conversation. 

However, "I'm just becoming... aware. Of certain things. That would mean us ending things is the best thing to do," is what you do say. 

"Like what?" he quips.

"Things."

Air blows out his nose, frustratedly. "That's not an answer."

Light bulbs burn out when the filament — the three wires in its centre — breaks down, and ceases to produce electricity. Burning out after an average of a thousand hours per lightbulb, because nothing can live forever. Nothing can live forever, for the sun will eventually burn out. Not in this lifetime, and definitely not in the next five, or ten, or twenty. The hydrogen will eventually deplete, and it will die the way fifty-two stars die each century. Nothing can live forever, and you would be naive to believe that something as minor as this relationship will be exempt from that fate. 

"What does it matter, Spencer?" you whisper. A pathetic tone for response, but you think you'll choke on anything louder. 

"You matter," he argues. Words are bullets, and he seems to have perfect aim. 

"Not to you, I don't," you stumble over your feet as you try to head towards his door. You've said what you needed to say. You've ended things. You can go, and this can all be over. 

"Yes, you do," he's standing too. He got closer to you at some point. You don't really remember. 

"You don't even know me!"

You're crying, you think. Staring at him, and he's blurry, which must mean your eyes are full of water. Ridiculous, because he is very clearly not. Too emotional for this conversation to drag out any longer, and yet he has the power to keep you constrained to it like a prison as long as he keeps talking. 

"You're shutting me out as a form of defence for something," he says. The words are calm, but he's taken on a higher pitch in his voice, which tells you this is affecting him. Or maybe he's pretending. "I don't know what. You won't tell me. That's your prerogative, I guess."

"You don't love me," you repeat the words from earlier with less conviction. You believe them less, yes, but still trust your instincts enough for them to hurt. 

"I don't understand why you think that," he replies, a hand dragging down his face. "I don't. All the knowledge in the world, and I cannot think of any logical reason behind you believing that."

"Who's Maeve?"

The silence that follows is deafening. His head snaps up and his hands fall limp by his sides, your vision clearing in an instant. You know, deep down, who Maeve is. The tragic ending to an even more tragic relationship has her name printed all over it.

"That's why you think I don't love you." It isn't a question, and he almost sounds like he's ridiculing you for coming to such a conclusion. 

Your panic rises. "I saw the book, and the addresses, and the—"

"—Maeve is dead!" Your heart sinks, as, for the first time in your life, you see Spencer Reid exhibit anger. No, not anger. He is not angry. Not with you, at least. He's hurt. "I am never going to get over her because she is dead. I watched a bullet go into her head. I mourned her, and I told myself I would never let myself get that close to somebody again. Yet, here you stand."

You stay silent. You don't know if he's finished speaking. If he is, he doesn't let you know. He doesn't prompt you for a response. He continues before you even start to think of something to say back.

"I didn't plan on letting you into my life like this. When I met you, you were not supposed to be this important to me. Is that why you think I don't love you? Because you saw me and got attached at first sight, and had to work for me to give you attention?"  Your chest aches. "Was it because I distanced myself from you for weeks in the beginning? Every coffee date, more spread out than the last. Not letting you into my space until you were my girlfriend? No sex for months?"

"You're angry," you state the obvious, and his eyebrows shoot up. A deprecating laugh leaves his lips. Not to deprecate himself, though. No, you. 

"You somehow played a role in getting me out of the self-loathing pit I fell into after Maeve died, and now you're telling me I don't love you—Yes, I'm angry! We were fine two weeks ago. I loved you the same way I did two weeks ago as I do right now. I'm frustrated, because I don't understand how you can possibly believe my feelings for you have changed so drastically!"

"The books are new. And the addresses. And the phone number," you say, almost desperately.  

"No. They're not. I have had that copy of that book for two years. Those addresses have been printed in there for longer. Everything you are finding are results of you noticing more about my apartment, which happens when you are in a space often enough. You will pick up on things you didn't notice the first time you were here. Or the second. Or maybe even the tenth. I have not hidden the fact that I had a girlfriend two years ago from you. Just how it ended." You don't have any energy to fight back, despite how badly you want to. You suppose, deep down, you know you deserve this. His bulleted words and cold voice. Even his sarcasm, as he drawls, "I hope you can forgive me for not making you privy to my ex-girlfriend's death."

"Spencer," you take a step forward, and he stiffens, so you halt. 

Now, you feel stupid. Scrutinised under his gaze, knowing how ridiculous he probably now views you as. Starting an argument over something you should've just asked him about. Driving yourself crazy, letting every single element still fuelling your mind run dry, when you could've just said something. 

"Is this going to be a one time thing?" he asks you, carefully levelling his voice. To hide how he really feels, or to make you feel worse, you don't know. "Or should I live in fear of you jumping to conclusions every time something from my past gets brought up?" 

It isn't a nice assumption to make, but it's fair. You give him that. Still, your gut twists uncomfortably, each organ stuttering in their role of keeping you alive for only a second. Just enough for you to feel sick, and stumble backwards. 

"I... I don't know," you provide him with honesty. "I'm sorry," you add, quietly. A poor attempt at making this situation any better. A bandaid over a bullet hole. 

"I know," and you're sure he does. There's bound to be regret painted on your face, mixing wonderfully with fear of where this relationship is going to go now. 

You don't even want to ask him, but you're sure if he doesn't force you to, you'll start throwing up at his feet. "Do you want me to go?" 

A shuddering breath is his response. You take it for what it is, and nod your head with the most sincere smile you can conjure up. You barely have anything to collect before you leave. Just your ruined mind, and new astronomical statistics.

Fifty-two star deaths this century just became fifty-three.

your reblogs and replies are always welcome ♡

[marvelwitchergilmore]

Nobody Important

Summary: Logan x Fe!Reader -> When you first meet Logan you tell him you’re nobody important. But it soon becomes clear you are a lot more important than you say. 

Disclaimer: Contains descriptions of nightmares, couple of swear words, being drugged (nothing bad, just some chamomile tea). Mostly fluff moments with a hint of angst. I watched X-Men and wanted to write something for him. Reader has powers though they're not specified fully. Not Proof Read.

When Charles told Logan someone was going to pick him up from the airport, the last person he expected was, well, you. 

Compared to the pristine and fancy cars that were held at the school garage, you pulled up in a beat up old station wagon that looked like it had seen more than a couple of scratches in its time. And you weren’t dressed…like the rest of them. 

Rather than in some kind of pant-suit combo, you were wearing a long sleeve t-shirt, jeans, boots and a heavy brown leather overcoat. 

“Hey, sorry I’m late. Hope I didn’t keep you waiting too long.” You began immediately as you stepped out onto the curb and rushed towards him. “I was at the back of the forest collecting some berries and lost track of time. Shall we get going?”

Logan looked you over. You seemed a lot more…energetic than he was. 

“Who are you?”

“Professor X sent me. To collect you. You are Logan, aren’t you?”

“That depends. Who are you?”

“Your ride to the school, unless you plan on walking for two hours in the freezing cold.”

Logan grunted and threw his bag into the backseat. You still hadn’t answered his question but the licence plate of your car matched that of the one Charles had told him to look out for. 

However, fifteen minutes into the drive, Logan asked once more. “Who are you?”

You smiled and looked at him for a moment before moving your gaze back to the road ahead. “Nobody important.”

“Okay, fine. What are you?”

You smiled again. “Nothing you need to be concerned about.”

“Alright, listen bub-”

“Logan, whatever information about me you think you’re gonna have me tell you; it’s not gonna happen. I work with Charles and that’s all you need to know.”

Logan furrowed his brows. “So you’re a telepath? Like him?”

“You don’t need to concern yourself with what or even who I am. But,” you reached down and pulled a file from the driver's side door before turning it over on the steering wheel and handed it over to him. “You should concern yourself about this.”

Logan took it, a little confused, and opened it up. 

“He wants you to know what you’re walking into when we get back.”

After that, the rest of the drive was silent save for one question from Logan, only to have you reply with; 

“All the answers you’re looking for are either in there or are with the Professor.”

He didn’t bother asking you another question after that. Not that you would have answered it anyway. 

Once you finally did pull up to the school, it seemed you were beside him one minute and went the next into some unknown corner of the school because he didn’t see you after that. 

But he still had questions. 

Unanswered questions. 

Like who the hell were you? 

A week later, he still didn’t have his answers. But he did run into you again. 

In the kitchens. 

The entire place was a lot messier than the communal kitchen. It looked like some mix between a witches cottage and a mess hall in a school cafeteria. But it didn't smell as bad. 

Instead it smelt of cinnamon, oranges, rosemary and cookies. 

And somehow

It was relaxing to him. 

“Penny for your thoughts?”

Logan looked up to find you standing at the other end of the kitchen, a bowl under one arm and a spoon in the other. Flour was dusted across your face and your hands were splotched with food colouring stains. Which matched the batch of rainbow coloured cookies behind you. 

“Err, no. I was just-”

“Here, sit. I’ll make you some tea.”

“I don’t really drink..tea.” 

Logan was still taking in the room. Every time he looked back to a spot, he found a new detail to it. Extra herbs, or ingredients, or even flowers. 

You smiled, placing down the bowl and spoon before moving across the kitchen to the simmering pot on the stove. 

“Here, try this.”

“Oh, I, uh-”

“Just drink it.” You sighed a little, with a light smile. Nobody would have to meet Logan to know he wasn’t a tea drinker. But he was also polite enough to accept a drink. 

And he did. 

“Is this where you work?”

You nodded, going back to the fresh batch of cookies you needed to start scooping out. 

“Do you usually work this late past midnight?”

You chuckled a little to yourself. “Sometimes. Mostly it’s because I think of a new recipe and want to try it out when no-one's gonna disturb me.”

“Am I disturbing you?”

“No. Plus, I heard you coming down the stairs. Figured it wouldn’t be long before you found another night owl.”

Logan grunted with a soft chuckle. “I don’t think it’s intentional being a night owl.”

You shrugged. “We all have our reasons.”

Logan nodded and took another gulp of his tea. If he thought he felt relaxed when he walked into the kitchen, he didn’t have a word for what he was feeling after the tea. 

“Hey, what’s in this tea?”

“Not much. Chamomile mostly.”

Logan nodded. But then something shifted. He was getting drowsy. Not relaxed. Not sleepy. Drowsy. 

“Hey, what did you put in this?”

Logan went to stand and repeat his question, but he was out like a light before he could finish. 

Logan, for the first time…ever, woke up slowly. From the light that came flooding in through his window, to slowly turning over and feeling the bones in his body crack just right to allow his joints to feel at ease, to not thinking a thing as his brain slowly turned back into gear. 

Then he jerked up. 

With a grunt, he looked around him. 

He was in his room. 

The last thing he could remember was your tea and the kitchen. 

Flinging the covers from him, he tore his way out of his room and down the hallways until he finally reached his destination. 

The Professor’s office. 

Walking inside, he found the situation entirely too calm. 

“Ah, good morning Logan. Glad to see you’re finally awake.”

“What the hell happened?” 

“You fell asleep. Y/n helped put you to bed before you collapsed on her kitchen floor.”

Logan turned at that moment to find you sat on the sofa by the window inside the office. 

“You.” Logan practically snarled. “You did something. What did you do?”

Logan approached you but where anyone else would have flinched, you didn’t. In fact, all you did was sit back further and smile up at him. 

“She didn’t do anything, Logan. You needed to sleep.”

Logan turned and looked at the Professor. “Don’t mean I have to be drugged.”

Then you stood. “It was just a little tea, Logan. The more exhausted you are, the faster and harder it works. But now you look more rested. Your skin looks less like you’ve been thrown into a washing machine for a couple spins.”

“Are you always this blunt?”

You smiled. “It’s part of my charm.”

“Ain’t nothing charming about this conversation, doll.”

“Really? Because I’m finding this thrilling.”

Professor X smiled. “Okay, that’s enough, you two.”

“She started it!”

You just smiled again. “You’re welcome. If you ever need more tea, you know where to find me.”

With a pat to his arm, you walked past him and said your goodbyes to the professor before heading for the door. 

“Don’t worry about it, you can keep your tea.”

“Have to admit, though. I did help.”

Internally, reluctantly, he did have to. Because despite everything, it was one of the best nights of sleep he’d ever had. 

Another week rolled by and despite Logan doing everything he could to avoid the woman that he still considered had drugged him to sleep, he seemed to see more of you. 

Turns out, you taught cooking and baking classes to the students so they could at least make themselves a decent meal every once in a while instead of quick ramen noodles. And you also taught outdoor survival skills which Xavier had Logan help sub in with. 

But this also meant, much to his chagrin, Logan was actually starting to like you. 

Rather than wanting to storm off in the other direction, he wasn’t annoyed by your presence in the room anymore and you definitely had a way with teaching a group of rowdy teenagers who would rather do anything other than learn normal “camp” things. 

It was actually entertaining watching you teach your students. And even he learnt a thing or two.

Another week passed and Logan found himself back in your kitchen, sitting at the kitchen island, watching you as you lent one palm on the counter top, a pencil between your teeth and two pens behind one of your ears. 

“Want some tea?” You asked him after a few minutes of content silence. 

“Are you going to drug me again?”

You rolled your eyes. “It’s store bought, Logan. I just added a couple extra things.”

“Really, like what?”

Sighing, with a slight smirk, you turned around and pulled the box of tea from the cabinet before throwing it at Logan from over your shoulder. “Read it. It tells you what to add.”

“They actually sell this stuff?”

You turned back to your messy notebook with a smile. “It helps when your grandmother worked in the tea business for forty years. All the tricks of the trade, passed down through generations.”

Logan watched you work- no, dance around the kitchen. You didn’t even have to look at what you were doing and before he knew it, there was another tea in front of him, in a glass mug with hand-painted roasting logs on it. 

Logan looked at it for a moment and then you spoke up, without looking in his direction. “Being a night owl means different hobbies can be created. Glass painting was one of them.”

Logan shrugged with a nod before drinking his tea. The effects weren’t as quick or as “violent” as the first time. Instead, it was calming, then relaxing, then just plain and simple tiredness. 

“Go to bed, Logan. Before you crash into my floor again.”

“How did you get me to bed the last time? I’m not exactly all flesh and blood.”

You shrugged. “I’m stronger than I might look to you. But, go to bed, Logan.”

“Will you?”

“Will I do what?”

“Go to bed, too?”

You turned and faced him. “Soon. I want to finish this up first.”

“What are you even doing?”

“New recipe. I shouldn’t be long. Look, I promise. Twenty minutes, I’ll be in my bed, fast asleep.”

Logan raised his brow for a moment but then stood. If he waited any longer, he might actually crash onto the floor again. 

“Okay, fine.”

And you stuck to your word. Logan heard your footsteps coming up the stairs less than ten minutes later and after that…he didn’t remember much other than just complete calmness and sleep. 

The next couple of nights followed the same pattern. And even if he still wasn’t a tea drinker, Logan was growing a (small) taste for it. 

Until one night he walked in and found you stood in the corner, changing your t-shirt. 

You already wore a cami top underneath most of your t-shirts anyway – especially in the kitchen, but your first one had gotten too messy. So you were safe when changing. Except, you hadn’t expected Logan to walk in when he did. 

He paused for a minute by the door, a little apprehensive to make himself known but also trying to do so, so it wouldn’t seem like he was just watching you change your top t-shirt. But at the same time, he didn’t want you to know he was standing there because he could finally look at you. 

More so, when he saw your shoulder. 

From your left shoulder spread and faded over the top and to your right, a mark similar to a burn. The skin was scarred, yet healed over. A forgotten memory. The strap of your top cut through the larger scar that ran directly across the middle of the scarred skin, almost in a wave. Parts were redder than others but you didn’t seem to be in pain as you pulled the t-shirt over the top of your head and down your body, covering it back up. 

Logan coughed as he entered and you turned around, greeting him as you did every night. 

“New recipe?”

You nodded, looking at the messy t-shirt in your hand. “Yeah, it didn't go over too well with the mixer.”

“Better luck next time.”

And then you both just…talked. 

You were slowly telling him a little more about yourself each night, even if you didn’t know it yet. 

“I just remember being thrown into the wall and waking up like an hour later, completely covered in green brownie batter.”

You both laughed as you told him the story, but then he asked. 

“Is that where the scar is from? On your back?”

It was almost as if you had forgotten about it, having to take a moment to realise what he was talking about.

“Oh, that. No, that…that’s nothing important.”

Logan knew to drop his line of questioning. If you said it was nothing important, then there was no way of getting you to talk about it. 

Until the day he found you napping on the sofa. 

Everyone was outside for the day considering it was winter break and fresh snow had finally fallen on the ground. Except, you had opted to stay inside, and fell asleep on one of the central sofas in one of the quieter communal areas. 

The large windows let a lot of natural light flood in, and the fire that was crackling away in the fireplace was enough to heat the room, especially when the door was closed. 

And it wasn’t long before the quiet hum of the fire and odd crackle of the wood, mixed with the heat and your lack of sleep, overtook you and you fell asleep. You didn’t even wake when your book dropped from your hand and onto the floor. 

“Hey, Y/n, they’re all-”

Logan stopped in his tracks when he saw you. 

Fast asleep. 

He was careful to remain quiet as he walked over to you, cutting between you and the coffee table to pick up your fallen book and place it safely onto the table, where he sat on the edge and took a minute to just…memorise you. 

Since he met you, you had done nothing but be moving. All the time. From the crack of dawn to nightfall, you were constantly going and running and teaching and baking and doing and…hell, for all he knew, you could be something other than mutant or human – even those two needed sleep at some point. 

Hell, even he needed sleep. 

But you were just constantly forever going. 

Lay on your left side, your elbow tucked under your head, you were lightly snoring. Logan brushed the stray hairs that had fallen in front of your face, away, his hand rested on your cheek for a moment, his thumb brushing across your cheekbone for a second. 

You were fast asleep. 

Your worn Beatles band-tee was twisted slightly around your middle, whilst the waist of your jeans had twisted in the opposite direction a little, leaving a small gap that showed Logan the redness from the indent marks of where you had been lay, probably, on your other hip for a while. 

Logan thought about covering you up, and leaving you where you were, for a moment. But he also knew you could be like him when it came to sleep. And it was best to get it when you could. So, rather than chance the kids coming back in and waking you up, he made a decision. 

You flinched a little in your sleep as he spoke to you and lifted you from the sofa. It wasn’t long before he found your room and laid you into bed before covering you up. 

Once more, he brushed the hair from your eyes as you turned onto your side again. 

He looked around for a moment before finding what he was looking for. 

A heavy blanket. 

He lay it over the top of your bedcovers and you, before moving across the room to light the fireplace. 

Only, as he did so and placed the fireguard in front, you whimpered. 

He turned around but you were still. 

Then you whimpered again. 

“No,” you whispered. 

Logan moved over to you quickly and quietly as he could. You fell silent again. 

He let out a small breath and covered you up a little more before leaning down. He didn’t know why, but he pressed a small kiss to your temple before walking away. 

Except you reached out for his hand. 

Logan looked down at his hand that was connected with yours, then to you. You were still asleep. 

But it didn’t look like it was a good dream. 

You were shaking. Your entire body seemed to be paralysed with fear, all the while you were mumbling words Logan just couldn’t quite make out. 

Then the glass of water by your bed started shaking. Then the table it was on. Then your bed. Then the floor. Whatever was happening to you was spreading throughout your room. 

A picture that had been hanging on the wall outside, fell to the floor. 

Quickly turning back to you, Logan took hold of your shoulder. He kept calling your name but it was like you couldn’t hear him. 

“Please…please don’t hurt them. Please.” You screamed and then grunted in pain. Whatever was happening in your nightmare, you were being hurt. Badly. 

“Hey, Y/N! Hey, you’re okay! You’re safe! You’re in New York. You’re at school! It’s not real, Y/N. None of it is real.”

Your head shifted. You were searching. 

“I’m right here. None of it is real. You need to wake up.”

“L…Logan?” 

The violent shaking in your room slowed for a moment.

He was shocked. Maybe…

“Just follow my voice. It’s just a nightmare. I can’t get into your head and bring you out. Just…follow my voice.”

The shaking around your room gradually slowed, but you still were. Then your eyes opened. 

And glowed. 

They were still your eyes just…brighter. 

“Logan?!”

He had stopped speaking. You were panicking. 

“It’s okay. You’re safe. I’m right here.” Logan took hold of your hand and held it tighter. “You’re safe.”

The shaking slowed and your eyes closed again. 

Then everything stopped. 

Everything went silent. 

Logan looked at the glass of water beside your bed. It was like it had never moved. 

Then you gasped and shot up from your bed. You kicked your legs and brought your hands behind you to push yourself up and the covers from you. 

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, hey, hey, Y/n. Hey,” 

You were gasping for breath, dizzy from your nightmare. 

“Hey, it’s me. Whoa. Hey, look at me. It’s Logan.”

He took you by your shoulders then your face. 

“It’s Logan.”

You finally calmed a little, and he watched your eyes search his entire face until you finally recognised him. 

“Logan,” you breathed. 

“Yeah…”

Your shoulders relaxed and you leaned closer to him, wrapping your arms around him. His hand held the back of your head and his other round your back, pressing you further into him. He could still feel your body trembling. 

“What happened?”

“You had a nightmare.” Logan told you. “The room started shaking and I tried waking you up.”

You took a couple of breaths before moving back and pushed the hair from your face and curled your legs up closer to your chest. 

Logan, sat beside them, placed one of his hands on your knee and the other in your right hand. 

“What happened?”

You shook your head. “Nothing-”

“The entire room started shaking and your eyes glowed. That’s not ‘nothing important’, Y/n.”

You swallowed and nodded your head before dropping your gaze and shifting until you were sat up, crossed-legged. 

Logan remained where he was, sat on the edge of your bed. 

“Before I worked as a teacher and cook here, I was one of them.” The last four words came out slowly, almost like you had to convince yourself you were saying them out loud. “I was an X-Man. I was a part of the team.”

“So what happened?”

“The usual. A mission gone wrong.”

“And that’s what the nightmares���”

You nodded. “It was the mission that made me retire. They needed me to do a job, and I couldn’t do it. There were kids, mutants, being held captive. Some rich dick thought he could duplicate mutants. As the team went it, I was meant to be holding ground outside, helping them find their way through. Only, I didn’t shut off my power. We knew they had someone who could detect me if I didn’t. I got so focused on trying to find the kids, trying to make sure the team got to them that the team almost…”

You paused for a minute. You hadn’t told anyone this story. Ever. 

Logan took your hand. “It’s okay. It’s just me.”

You let Logan’s touch soak into your skin. A memory you’d never forget yet never truly remember why you never would forget. 

“They almost died, Logan.” You looked at him and he could see the tears behind your eyes, threatening to come forward and fall again. “Everyone almost died, because I didn’t shut it down. You asked about the scar, the one on my back?”

Logan nodded. He didn’t like where this was going. 

“It’s from that day. One of their scientists had set off some kind of power..thing. Sent me flying blocks away from where I was supposed to be. I crash landed into some old wooden panelling which knocked me down. But once I got up…their Superhuman had found me.”

“Was he the one that-”

You nodded, remembering it as if it was yesterday. “I was thrown, this time on my front. I tried to get up but then all I felt was pure fire. He was burning me. Giving me a reminder of why ‘someone like me, born with the powers of gods’ shouldn’t have them when I was clearly so ‘weak’. By the time he stopped, I realised where he was going. And by the time I got up, everything just…blew up.”

“Y/n, everyone’s safe. You’re all here. Don’t you teach some of those kids?”

You nodded. “Doesn’t mean I don’t forget that feeling. One of the kids had been watching the guards, tracking their materials to find a way out. If they hadn't done that…they wouldn’t have gotten out, Logan. And they almost didn’t. All because I couldn’t fight. I can’t be the reason why I lose my family and the people I love.”

The tears came forward now, streaming down your face at an unstoppable speed. 

“I just can’t.”

Logan shook his head, pushing himself closer to you to hold you. And you let him. Leaning into him, you felt his arms grow tighter around your body. There was a small security in his arms, one that you hadn’t felt in a long time. 

“None of that was your fault.” Logan told you. “I know you and I know this team. You would never intentionally hurt people. And forgetting to turn your powers off? We’ve all made mistakes in moments like that. Sometimes you get so focused on one person, you tend to lose all sense of self. But none of that was your fault. They got out. They’re all here. They’re all alive. And rich dick is spending his life as dust in the fucking wind.”

“Believe me, I’ll be the first to tell you changing your feelings on something won’t stop the nightmares.” Logan continued. “But you need to find a way to let it go. Don’t let them control you. Not when you won. Not when you’re here, with everyone, able to drug me with some store bought tea.”

You laughed a little at that, wiping your tears away before Logan did the same thing, brushing his thumb underneath your eye and across your cheek. Logan smiled a little. Others might have called it a muscle flex, but knowing Logan; it was a small, brief smile. 

“Don’t let them win.”

You nodded, your head still in his hands. 

“Logan? Will you…Can you stay?”

It seemed to take Logan a second to find his answer. What you couldn’t see was that most of that time, he was trying to figure out why his answer came as fast as it did for him. 

“You don’t-”

“I can stay.”

You looked up at him and nodded with a slight smile. 

Moments later, Logan had kicked his shoes off and was lying beside you in bed. 

“Logan?”

“Yeah?”

You took his hand that lay between you both and turned your head to look at him. 

“Thank you for staying.”

It was his turn to turn his head and when he did, he felt something. The same feeling he’d been getting since the day you gave him his first cup of tea. 

Logan just nodded before lifting his arm. “Come here.”

You moved closer to him as he lifted the covers a little so you could do so. Then he dropped his arm around your back, his palm flush against its centre before it slid a little lower to hold you by your waist. 

As your head settled close to his chest, he dropped his head a little, leaning his jaw against the top of your head and as he felt you relax and close your eyes, he did the same thing. 

The moment your breathing became even, and he knew you were asleep, Logan settled back down and held you just a little tighter against him as he closed his eyes and joined you in a dreamless sleep. 

Hours passed and Charles hadn’t seen either you or Logan in hours. But when he spotted a picture frame that had fallen onto the floor, just outside of your room, he sped as quickly as he could down the hall, but paused when he saw the door open and a sight he didn’t think he’d get to witness for at least a few more months. 

From the hallway, Charles peered in to find the snow falling heavily outside of your window. The children and other teachers were still outside playing. The fire had died down a little, but even he could feel the heat from the room. 

And in the middle of the left hand wall through the door, was your bed. 

Where yourself and Logan slept soundly, almost as one. With your face and hand on his chest, and his arm around your waist, whilst his other hand held onto your arm in a soft grip, keeping your hand on him. 

Xavier could practically feel the serenity oozing from the pair of you. He knew Logan was troubled and that you yourself hadn’t felt safe or content in a long time. 

And he would never have to tell Logan of the change you brought to him, or the one he brought to you. The change that helped you feel safe again, content again. Happy again. Without the added feeling that something was about to go off kilter. 

Because Logan already knew. 

And so did you. 

And for Logan, no matter how many times you would tell him you were “nobody important”, you would always be important to him. 

[velvetwyrme]

which deception would have an sti AND fuck cars?

in reference to: https://www.tumblr.com/penny-anna/767952128217104384/imagine-youre-a-mechanic-in-the-transformers?source=share

okay. so. first off. anon, thank you for sending me this because the idea that you read that post and just went- "hey, you know who i should pose this question to?" and sent it to me- is hysterical and i lvoe u.

anyway theres also a Texty answer under the cut if you want to read that, because i genuinely DO have thoughts about this, but i wanted to draw that comic because this ask made me laugh very hard when i saw it in my inbox.

also, the thrilling conclusion of the comic answer:

he fucked that car!!!!!!!

hi! Texty time. I think a lot of them would have/be one but not the other (either has a STI or is a Carfucker) but i included some of those here anyway because i think my thought process was funny for some of them. this is all purely my own opinions etc. etc. no basis for anything only vibes. i went through a lot of options and came to a lot of conclusions.

to reiterate the Chart for claritys sake:

Soundwave: No STI and no Carfucking. This is true across all versions of Soundwave imo. Rumble and Frenzy are a solid no on the STI front and a solid yes on the Carfucking.

Starscream: no STI, no Carfucking (despite what Soundwave thinks). TFP!Starscream specifically might have an STI though. Sorry man. Skywarp definitely has/had a STI but gets it treated on account of his trinemates. No Carfucking. Thundercracker would fuck a car but doesn't have an STI.

Shockwave: ??? - I'm not sure I want to know. "Once, as part of an experiment" was the original thing I wrote for his answer lol. True across continuities as well.

Anyway. moving on...

My actual answer for Megatron: REALLY depends on continuity. Here's a sample:

G1? Yeah, probably both. I can see it.

IDW/MTMTE? Nah. Maybe? ... Nah. I feel like if he had an STI it'd have been back when he was a miner. Would not fuck a car.

Earthspark? I feel like no STI but yes to the Carfucking. Except he feels really guilty about it after. I still haven't watched ES but this is the impression I get from him.

TFA? oh god. i don't know... i don't know....... he probably fucks cars. No STI.

TFP? Yeah absolutely are u kidding me? Yes to both.

Constructicons: I feel like they'd be a yes to both, but not at the same time, so they wouldn't have been the one/s to transmit a STI to a car. Also Hook would be ON TOP of treatment. Once they ALL got infected after combining into Devastator, and that was miserable for everyone. Nobody has fessed up to being the one who had it in the first place, but now they have treatment on hand just in case.

Also while on the topic of combiners... I think some of the Stunticons are also pretty good candidates for STI/Carfucking. Motormaster, Drag Strip and Wildrider in particular shfkgbekfbk

I considered Tarn/The DJD and Overlord just because of how freaky them guys can get, but I think Tarn runs too tight a ship for that to happen, and Overlord is preoccupied with. worse things. The Scavengers on the other hand... sorry to Misfire, I can see him giving a car a STI. Relatedly, Grimlock would fuck a car but not have an STI.

Who else................................ wait.

Astrotrain. I can see it. Okay bye im going to sleep this took me too long to reply to fhfjfbrmfbdj

[reiderwriter]

🩺 Protect and Serve 🩺

Spencer Reid x stripper! Female Reader

For the CM Kink Bingo Challenge

Summary: Spencer makes a fool of himself in front of a very pretty nurse. Who turns out to not be a nurse at all, but a stripper.

Warnings: Erotic dance, pole dancing, uniforms, doctor play (?), semi-public sex, fingering, strip tease, nipple play, use of birth control - condoms, penetrative sex (PinV).

A/N: He's protecting, she's serving cunt. That's the pairing dynamic for this fic. I love writing Spencer as dumb because he does canonically lose it around hot people, and we, dear readers, are all hot people. I added the strip tease song below of you want to really get in the mood!

Masterlist || Bingo Board

“Okay, everyone, listen up,” Hotch called out to the masses, the three teams of officers, and his own team who were lined up and ready to receive orders. 

“We're going to do a simple canvass. Ask anyone you spot if they've seen our missing person and if they've seen any suspicious activity around the area in the last month. You have further lines of questioning laid out in your briefs. Also, we have no reason to believe the unsub will be hunting right now, so we're going to be canvassing individually.”

The crowd nodded in a wave of understanding, taking the information as it came before getting ready to receive their areas to work in. 

Spencer had devised the map himself, so he didn't have to wait in line, instead, walking to his corner of the block and getting himself ready for interactions. 

The clock struck 11, and he began, waiting for the usual shaky characters of the night to stroll out onto the streets. After a series of abductions from this area, and the general disrepair of all local CCTV cameras, the BAU knew exactly where their unsub was hunting from, but not the how, the why, or the who. 

In a last ditch effort, they'd turned to goodwill from the public. 

“Excuse me, sir, do you have a few minutes to answer some ques-” 

“Go fuck yourself.” 

“Okay, have a great evening.”

For the best part of the first hour, all of his interactions were the same repeat of hostility and general apathy. For long stretches of time, nobody walked by at all, and some were even growing frustrated by being accosted by multiple law enforcement officers within the hour.

He'd almost lost hope for a lead when the clock struck twelve, and you'd ran around the corner, nearly bowling him over as you raced to get to work. 

“Shit, oh, I'm sorry-” you said, realising you'd landed in a soft place, and not on the tarmac you knew from experience was a pain. He'd accidentally broken your fall and was all the more sorry for it. 

“No, it's okay… ah, um, it's not that bad.” 

You stood yourself up, removing yourself from the body of the stranger. The body of the man wearing an FBI jacket, who you now recognised as being with one of the dozen or so cops that had stopped you in your dash from your car (parked further downtown so it wouldn't get stolen) to your place of work. 

“Oh, god, I'm so sorry, officer. I didn't mean to- I'm sorry,” you mumbled again and again as you offered him a hand up. He took it hesitantly, grabbing his papers as he jumped on this opportunity to have a conversation with the first normal looking person he'd come across in an hour. 

If he'd been less eager, less tired, and in all honesty, less immediately attracted to you  he'd have realised that you had a destination in mind. One that, while being above board mostly, still made you weary of cops. 

“It's Agent actually - Doctor, but- anyway, um, could I possibly have a few minutes of your time? We're looking into a recent string of abductions in the area, and we’re asking if you've seen anything out of the ordinary.” 

You stood trapped by his surprisingly wide frame, his height dwarfing you by a few inches and the path being just narrow enough that you either had to decline politely, or just push past him to keep going. 

Unfortunately, you, too found him slightly too attractive than you were willing to admit, attractive enough that you'd gladly miss out on a half hours worth of tips to answer questions you'd honestly already answered before now. You'd always been weak for a man in uniform.

“I-I guess so. This will only be a few minutes, right?” 

“Of course, I wouldn't want to keep you from your work,” he said, gesturing down at your outfit. If it weren't for his totally genuine tone, you'd have thought he was being cruel. 

Usually, you didn't show up for work in your performance clothes, trying not to draw any more attention to yourself on the streets at midnight, but you'd been forced to that day. 

It was Uniform Day at the strip club, and your boss was entirely too cheap to buy the Uniforms himself, and absolutely cruel enough to penalise anyone who showed up without some kind of costume. Your nurse outfit had been in transit and out for delivery since 10 am. that morning, arriving exactly 10 hours later. 

It wasn't exactly a realistic cosplay. Sure there was a cute pen clip, and you were technically wearing scrubs, but they were also skin tight, and you knew for a fact that your nipples were hard and visible through the thin material, because taking a glance down, even you could see them. 

“Do you usually work the night shift?” He asked, bringing his clipboard up to take notes of your answers. 

He absolutely did not know you were a stripper. 

“Yeah. We don't really get many people in during the day. Too embarrassing, not the time for it.”

He nodded and tried to pretend like he was writing something of merit down, but secretly, he was very much enjoying the curves Of your body as the tight material hung off your body. 

The “scrubs” were baby blue  but he had no doubt that if the heavens opened right, then they'd become as see-through as cling film. 

He, too, wanted to cling to you. 

“Have you noticed anyone suspicious in the area recently, anything new or out of the ordinary?” 

“I mean, I couldn't possibly say. You know how this neighbourhood is, it's… well, it's not exactly the safest.” 

He nodded again and acted out sympathy, unaware how the feeling should feel now that he was faced with a woman so perfect that he'd entirely lost the ability to process emotions. 

“Right, right…” 

You stood for another moment or two, waiting for his follow up question, but his eyes raked over you in a way you were entirely familiar with. Unlike your usual clientele though, he snapped himself out of it, and had the wherewithal to look bashful. 

“Ask about victim, no leading questions,” he read quickly, before looking up at you and stammering through a new question. 

“S-so. Are there usually a lot of women walking around this area alone at night?” 

You did your nest to hold off a smile, to stay serious as he made the best of the script he was given.  

“Yeah, a few of the places have staff on hand to protect the girls, but my place is mostly women. We stick together as best as we can, but a client or two gets too attached now and again,” he nodded. 

“Patients can often become infatuated with their care staff,” he said, and he was so earnest that you wanted to take everything back and let him go. You wanted to see how long it would take him to realise there was only one body part you and your colleagues cared for. 

“I did think the industry was becoming more gender inclusive. Are there no men on staff?” 

“Oh, yeah. We have men, too. They're mostly request only, though, so we don't see them every day.” 

“Fascinating! You know, believe it or not, anthropologically, humans are predisposed to view women as more caring and are 9 times out of 10 more likely to ask for women to care for them, the gender of the patient doesn't impact the data.”

“Oh, I can believe it.” 

You smiled at him, and he looked taken aback for a minute or two. He finished by smiling back, and you definitely found this conversation worth as much as you'd lost in tips in the last half hour. You were half tempted to invite him back to the club with you for the night, to thank him for providing you with motivation for the night ahead.  

“Um, so, if you do see anything in the future, you can call the police and here is my number,” he said, scrawling something down quickly on a piece of paper and handing it off to you. 

“Oh. Oh, um, right, number. Uh,” you said, rooting around in your purse for your own business card to hand off to him. Partly because you wanted to resolve his misunderstanding, and partly just because you wanted to see what this overly respectful man would do with it. 

“Candy Cayne,” he read, obviously looking past the body glitter that covered the cars and everything else you owned. 

“Well, my real name is Y/N, but you can't be too safe these days.” 

“Right,” he said, smiling again. 

If these were the FBI agents put on the case of making your city safer, maybe you'd invest in a good taser and some more pepper spray. 

Just in case. 

“Spencer, over here!” One of the other agents you'd already spoken to called out from a block down the street, and hastily, Spencer Reid excused himself and let you finally continue on your way to work. 

You had to convince yourself you weren't disappointed. 

Morgan’s brows were furrowed as Spencer reached him. 

“Why were you interviewing the stripper again, I already got her information when she came by me.”

“Stripper? What stripper?” 

“You gotta be kidding me.” 

Morgan looked at the younger man incredulously before turning him around with a hand on his shoulder and pointing in your direction. 

“That stripper, Spencer.” 

He couldn't help but let his eyes trail down to your ass as you quickly walled off, hips swaying perfectly, showing off your complete assets in the tight outfit. 

“She's a nurse,” he defended, even as the blood drained from his face. 

“Uh-huh, and what's her name?” 

“...Candy Cayne,” he paused for a second before turning back to Morgan with a stricken expression on his face. 

“Oh my god, she's a stripper.” 

Five hours into your shift, and about $800 richer, you found yourself swinging around the pole freely again as your regulars slowly trickled out. 

You kept on dancing, though, knowing that the morning crowd was about to get in, the night-shifters that had to wait the entire night to get off on your dancing delights. 

Truckers you expected, security guards and night watchmen, too. Even the occasional older gentleman who found it hard to sleep in the mornings, so bored by retirement, they dropped in a few times a day. 

What you weren't expecting was Spencer.

You heard the door open, the bell ringing out loudly as all the girls stopped to greet their new target. 

“Hello, baby,” one called, the others chorusing around her. 

“Oh it's free for you, sweetheart.”

“Wanna take a ride?” 

“Aren't you just the cutest.”

Spencer spotted you - and your uniform - very quickly. 

As predicted, with a little bit of water, your uniform had gone see through with the tiniest drop of water, the sweat from your ongoing workout and the body oil the matrons lathered you up in before showing off everything. 

Still, Spencer tried to keep his gaze polite as he stood awkwardly at the edge of the stage and tried to engage you in conversation. 

“Hi,” he said, shouting awkwardly over the music. 

You shot him a confused look as you ground against the bar, still enjoying the tips of the last few stragglers. You gave him a confused look as you wrapped yourself around the pole, lifting yourself up and gripping the bar between your legs, pushing your chest backwards as you tipped your head upside down. 

“Can we talk?” He asked, and you, slowly but surely, let go of the bar, ending on the floor with your legs spread wide as the few men enraptured by you wolf whistled and swore. 

Finally, Spencer's bashful gaze dropped from your face as he stared at your scantily clad cunt. 

The baby blue underwear - though you could barely call it underwear as you were barely wearing it - was most definitely not leaving enough to the imagination. Combined with the very clear view of your boobs, Spencer wasn't surprised when his IQ abandoned him, rushing to his second head to let it make mistakes. 

“I'm sorry, officer,” you said, winking at him as you crawled forward, collecting tips as you went. “If my boss sees me talking to you instead of working, I can get fired. Tell me you've got at least a twenty on you.”

He scrambled for his wallet, pulling out all the cash he had and holding out a few dollars to you as you watched him. 

He looked away again, just as you leaned down to take it, and you pouted again. 

“Come on, sir,” you said, wiggling your ass a little to keep the other men entertained while you wore down at his morals. “You have to stick it down my shirt or something. Make it believable.” 

His eyes snapped back to yours, and then immediately to your chest as you sat back on your knees and began playing with yourself, grabbing your tits and bouncing up and down as you showed off your special ‘skills.’ 

Hesitantly, he reached out a hand, and, hating how slow he was going, you met him halfway, pushing your chest into his open hand. 

Though he was apprehensive, his body seemed able to take advantage quickly, and upon depositing the cash, he let his hand trace down the curve of your breast, squeezing it a little. 

“I came to apologise-” he started, trying to remind himself to stick to the script he created for himself. 

You didn't want to stick to any script. 

“Boss, I've got a private dance!” you shouted out to the bar staff, getting a thumbs up from the manager there and a call back of a room number. 

You grabbed the rest of the cash from his hands and lifted a hand so he could help you down the stage stairs, leading him quickly to a private room and closing the door. 

“T-There’s been a mistake, I just came to apologise for my unnecessary comments earlier, and-” he paused, hands lifting up in surrender as you straddled him. 

“What are you doing?” 

“You can talk, but you paid for a dance. I thought this would be better for you, more private.”

“Oh, yes, thank you, that's very considerate.” 

You nodded and began raking your nails down the front of his shirt, loosening his tie a little as you rose on your knees and gyrated your hips. 

His gaze locked eyes with your chest, and for a moment, you worried he wasn't breathing anymore, his entire body having stilled. Then you rocked your hips down into his lap, and you realised he wasn't still but stiff. 

He was rock fucking hard. 

You grinned, and tried to pick the conversation back up with a casual tone. 

“So how is canvassing going?” 

“Hmm?” He said, unlearning. “Oh, uh. Good. We have a few leads we're going to investigate in the morning.” 

“It is the morning, officer.” 

He nodded and gulped, but his gaze had rested gently against your bare skin again. 

You decided to treat him. 

Standing back up, you grabbed the room control and queued up your favorite track to dance with. The private sances were usually boring, a constant reminding of ‘don't touch the dancers’ dropping from your lips as you half-heartedly rocked back and forth. 

Unsurprisingly, though, you actually wanted this man to touch you. 

Spencer willed his brain to quiet, though as it had taken up residence in his pants, he doubted it could hear any of his requests. 

The opening lines of "I Put a Spell on You" by Annie Lennox played on the quiet room speakers, and you watched his hands clench into his pants. 

You took a step forward, pushing your arms up as you swung your hips left and right. 

“You said something about an apology earlier, right?” 

I put a spell on you. Because you're mine.

“Yes,” he said, restrained to monosyllabic answers as your hands trailed down to your legs, catching the hem of your dress and pulling it up. 

You revelled in the way his eyes widened, the way the veins in his hands popped as he grasped himself harder, the hitch in his breathing. 

You pulled the offending garment up and danced it off your body until you were stood in just panties and stilettos. 

Without flashing him even a hint of your breasts, though, you turned and sat yourself on his lap. 

“W-We could've just talked here, right? You don't have to do this if you don't want to.”

“I know,” you said, grabbing his hands and covering your chest with them. 

“But you were so earnest earlier, I felt a bit bad too. Let's call this even.”

You didn't get an answer from him, but his hands did start touching you, and you couldn't help but feel as though you'd won anyway. 

You better stop the things that you do.

Taking your nipples between his fingers, he squeezed, and your ass pushed down into his cock, back arching as you began rubbing against his legs. You repositioned, letting your knees fall either some of his leg, leaning forward to balance yourself against his knee as you rocked your core into his leg. 

“So, what's your name, officer.”

“Spencer-” he sighed, voice warm in your ear as he leaned closer, trying to hook his head over your shoulder to watch the rest of your body writhe. 

“Doctor Spencer Reid.”

“Oh, how fancy, a Doctor. I've never had a doctor before,” you said, straightening and grabbing his hands again. 

“And what a naughty little nurse I've been,” you giggled. 

I tell you, I ain't lyin’.

“I'm not that kind of doctor,” he said, as your hands guided his to your cunt, giving him permission to enter your underwear. 

“And as we've established, I'm not that kind of nurse. But I don't mind.”

He muttered to himself for a second before beginning to pay sweet attention to your clit. As bashful, and shy, and overall clumsy he had seemed outside, he absolutely had the theory of pleasure down to a T. 

The pads of his fingers were rough against your clit, pushing your pleasure buttons roughly as you soaked his pants. 

“That's it, Doctor, that's where the ache was.”

He caught on quickly and kept up his ministrations as you moaned in his lap. 

“Ah, fuck. M-Maybe some medicine would help.me Doctor. A nice big injection.” 

You stood and almost threw a tantrum at the loss of contact, but you returned yourself to his lap quickly. 

He unbuttoned his pants as he stood, and his cock was released and waiting for you when you returned again. 

Before you could get to it, though, his face buried itself in your chest. 

You moaned at the contact, his tongue swirling around your already painfully sensitive nipples. You humped his leg wantonly, giving up the act and becoming the whore he likely thought you were. It was all too much for you, his hot stare, his surprisingly deft fingers. And then he gently bit your nipple, and your cunt clenched around nothing as you twitched and you came. 

“Fuck, cock. Now!” You demanded, as the after waves of your orgasm still rolled through you. You grabbed a condom from the complementary basket nearby and rolled it onto his tip expertly before sinking yourself down on him. 

“D-D you feel better now?” He asked, hands gripping the fat of your thighs as tightly as he'd gripped his pants earlier. 

“Yes, Doctor Reid!” you said, your bounces sloppy as you stretched yourself around his dick. 

He wasn't overly long or ridiculously thick. It was like you'd stumbled into the Goldilock fairy tale, because you'd found the cock that fit you just right. 

Your brain short-circuited after your all too fast orgasm, and you moaned pathetically, almost grumpily as you failed to keep up the stamina. 

You know better, Daddy. I can't stand it ‘cause you put me down.

As if noticing your distress, Spencer stood slightly, using a nearby table to balance out your additional weight, and finally lowered you onto it. You'd taken no notice of it in the past, but you now thanked the heaven that the table was sturdy and roughly cock height, as he began thrusting into you with just the right speed. 

The clock struck six as he licked his fingers again and played with your clit once again, and with a sharp jerk of your hips, your cunt tightened around him and began milking his cock. 

He came with a groan, though admittedly one quieter than your own. 

I put a spell on you.

With a wet pop, his cock exited you, and he quickly went to work discarding the used condom. You tried to sit up quickly, and were surprised you could manage even that much, as you shimmied back into your wet dress. 

“Apology accepted,” you said, as he turned back to you, put together once again. 

You turned to leave, but he caught your waist and spun you back around to him. His lips were on yours in a second. 

His tongue was hot and thick as it opened your mouth, exploring every inch as he forced you to submit once more. When you pulled back, his hand lightly grazed up the side of your face, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. 

“Yeah. You too. Your apology.”

You couldn't help but let out a giggle as he walked you back toward the door, almost pinning you there for a round two. 

“You really thought I was a nurse?”

“It was dark.”

You gave him another peck on the cheek and pulled away, gaining the respectable distance from your customer aa you re-emerged from the private room. 

“I get off at 7,” you whispered yo him finally, before making your way back to the bar. 

Your doctor sat himself down and waited for the clock to strike 7. 

[clemswinecorner]

To be loved is to be known [Harry Lewis/W2S]

Summary: Y/N knows Harry, and Harry knows Y/N.

Wordcount: 775

Warnings: some swearing, nothing major

Lots of people knew lots of things about Harry. People knew his favourite colour, his favourite football club, his favourite types of videos to film. His friends knew his favourite drink, Simon knew his favourite football top, Tobi knew his Nando’s order. But nobody knew him quite like Y/N did. She could tell whether Harry wanted to buy something within seconds of him seeing it, she could tell the difference between him wanting to leave a place and him wanting to disappear completely. 

“Are you joining us having a couple drinks at Cal’s place?” Lux asks Harry, leaning towards him. They’re out for dinner with quite a big group, which wasn’t too unusual for them, and Harry glances over at Y/N sitting across. She’s fixing her off-shoulder top when he catches her eyes. She gives him a questioning look, knowing him well enough to recognize he wants an answer out of her. “Are we having drinks at Cal’s after this?” He asks, and she shrugs. She notes the way his hands are tapping against the tabletop and his phone’s screen is facing upwards. “I don’t know, maybe one drink but don’t think we’ll stay out late, unless you want to?” She raises her eyebrows at him. She sees the doubt in his face, and how it’s different from his body language that tells her he’d much rather go home. “Won’t be too special, I think there’s people going straight home as well,” Lux mentions. He isn’t stupid, and after living with him for a couple of years, Harry’s face tells him that the day has been long enough. “Yeah, think we might do the same actually, but we’ll be there Saturday,” Y/N jumps in, and Callux nods. Harry gives her a smile, as she swiftly changes the conversation topic.

Later that night, they’re sitting on the couch, a pile of cards in front of them. “You fucker,” she curses as he puts down another plus four. She takes the cards from the pile as he puts down another card. “Thanks for saying no to Lux tonight,” He softly says as she puts down her card. “Hmm. I could tell your social battery would run out halfway through, I’m glad you listened to me,” She jokes, and he chuckles, grabbing a card from the pile. “When have I ever not?” He asks, and she raises her eyebrows at him. “Do you really want me to answer that?” He shakes his head with a laugh, chucking down another card. “No, no I don’t,” He confirms, and she laughs, looking at the cards in her hands. “We should skip nights out to play games more often,” She comments, before she smirks at him. “You didn’t say Uno, by the way.”

In the same way she knew him, he knew her. 

“Baby, have you seen my…” He trails off as he walks into the living room, where she’s sitting crossed legged under a fluffy blanket, invested in her book. She’s comfortably nestled in a hoodie slightly too big, bright blue and more importantly the exact one he’d spend the last fifteen minutes trying to find. He sighs, and she looks up with those adorable clueless eyes, “Never mind. Did you drink anything?” She nods before getting back to her book, “Yeah, have tea,” she absentmindedly says. He walks over, checking the temperature of the mug— completely cold, as he guessed. He picks it up, walking away with a small smile and a shake of his head. 

She doesn’t even notice him coming back until his hand is going through her hair. She looks up, waiting for him to speak. “Hi. My bag’s almost packed, my Uber’s here in fifteen minutes. I made you a tea,” She smiles, putting her book down next to her. “I didn’t realize it was that late already, you should’ve said,” she mentions. “Nah, you were too comfortable, thought I’d let you read. I get you to myself again after the weekend anyway,” he disagrees. She sits up and leans onto Harry, who’d sat down next to her, his shoulder. He lets out a content sigh, turning around to fully envelop her in a hug. She snuggles into his comfortable chest, loving how cuddly he could get. “Thanks for the tea,” she lowly says, and he presses a kiss on top of her head. “Don’t want you to dry out, do I? I know how into the story you can get,” he says, as if it’s nothing. To him, it probably was nothing, it’s just how he was. To her, it was everything. To be loved is to be known, after all.

[bleufu1]

LIL’ OL DOVES

“What’s yo’ name huh?”

“Sammie— Sammie Moore.”

“I like preacher boy better.”

SYNOPSIS: Where a boy meets the angels his father been preaching bout’.

Cavity worth fluff imo | Little Sammie can’t handle a crush | comparisons of heaven and earth n angels | reader is a bit of a trouble maker. |

Hot an’ sunny in Mississippi. Was a Friday mornin’, everybody and they momma outside. Kids playin’ while they moms chat on the porch. The dads having a beer outside while arguing over nonsense and bullshit. Average hot day out in the country. For Sammie it won’t no different.

Sammie was outside playing along with the other kids from the church. It was nothin’ else to do with the time they had. Kicking the ball around, doin’ flips on the dirt — gettin’ they clothes dirty. Sammie was running with some of the boys. They all ran back to the houses close near. An’ getting closer to the house, he spotted something, or someone. A woman, no older than twenty at least — was speakin’ to his momma.

They looked like good friends. Laughin’ like they ain’t seen each other in a good long while. The lady stood yey-high, long thick hair pulled into a bun. She seemed sweet. Beside her stood a young lady, looked no older than a teen years. Really pretty, nice smile too. They were conversing bout’ god knows what. Sammie peered from the steps with his friends, tryna figure out what they could be chattin’ bout—

“God dammit — _____! Get the hell down!”

Sammie snapped his head along with everyone else. There he seen her. Wearin’ a yellow dress with white frills on the bottom. Hair crazed an’ leaves scattered everywhere in it. Big smile on her face too. She was climbing a tree — looks like she was lookin’ for somethin’ — an’ she won’t gon let it get away.

“One second Ma’! The cat gon fall if I don’t catch it!”

Sammie watched as the girl tried getting the cat. Reaching her hands out to it in the tree. He could hear her momma on the porch yelling for her to leave the animal alone — an’ that cats find they own way down. Clearly the girl a Bit stubborn — tried to get the cat anyway. Sammie’s friends giggled and smiled at her attempt. The young lady, assuming that’s her sister, ran to the tree in hopes to get her down.

Her attempt ain’t work. Poor girl fell — with the cat in her arms.

“I got it!”

She stood up stumbling, her sister dragged her by the arm that wasn’t holdin’ the cat, bringing her to they Ma’. Her mom was furious — rightfully so. Sammie could tell by the way her mom was using past tense in her words, this ain’t the first time this occurred. Still, she giggled like she had laughin’ gas in her tank.

“Ain’t shit funny bout’ this girl! You could’ve got hurt — or worse.”

“But I ain’t, aren’t I?”

Sammie watched, as she an’ her sister went back an’ forth. Yep, definitely sisters. He looked at her fixing her hair — ridding all the leaves out it. Brushing her hair out with her fingers. Her locks were fairly long, thick like her mom’s — looked taken care of and healthy. Sammie’s friends laughed at her an’ her sister’s bickering. The lil’ one finally pushed her hair back from her face — and Sammie’s eyes widened a little. She was pretty.

Not the pretty of her sister, not the pretty like her momma. Sammie thought those ladies were very beautiful, but not in the way he seen her. She looked younger than him but not by that much. She won’t rough in the face either like he expected — she was beautiful. Pretty like daisy’s, pretty like the smell of lavender or sunflowers. He ain’t never seen nothing or nobody like her.

Sammie seen her mom point over to where him an’ his friends were sitting. Presumably saying to stay put with the other kids. Soon as she walked over all of em’ started asking questions. Most along the lines of why she was in the tree anyways. Sammie wasn’t paying attention to the things they were asking. He only tuned in when she answered. She said she wanted that cat back, won’t nobody gon’ tell her otherwise.

He locked eyes with her — when she looked up at him. She smiled. Sammie thought bout’ why his heart felt like it was tryna’ run out his chest.

“You that boy I been hearin’ bout round town, the preachers son — right? People call you preacher boy.”

He coughed — clearing his voice

“Yeah, but that’s not my name.”

“What’s yo’ name then, huh?”

“Sammie — Sammie Moore.”

She tapped her finger on her chin, looked him up

an’ down with a squint.

“Nah. I like preacher boy better. — My names ____.”

That was fine by him. All he did was smile an’ Nod. The rest of the day they all played. Running round’ — Sometimes _____ gettin’ yelled at by her momma for running too fast for her feet to catch up. They all decided to play hide n seek. Simple game an’ it won’t give her Ma’ a heart attack. Sammie and the girl decided to team up — she thought it’d be good to hind behind the barn, where the flower field was.

Him and her kept quiet. He took small peeks at her when she was lookin’ out for the seeker. She really is pretty, can you blame em’?

“You keep staring at me, why you do that?”

He froze, looking back at her.

“Dunno’ maybe i just like lookin at ya.”

“You like my face then preacher boy.”

“I ain’t say that—”

“You ain’t have to — i ain’t slow. It’s alright if you stare, just don’t be weird bout it — kay?”

Sammie nodded at her, she smiled back at him.

“I think imma give you a nickname — only fair, cause you’n call me by my name.”

She looked up at him. Squinting at him. She ain’t like the idea of what he was proposing — she knew boys were mean with names. Sometimes taking it too far.

“Fine, what ya thinkin’?”

Sammie thought for a second. She was really nice to everyone, kept a smile on his face too. He won’t gon’ give her a flower name — that was too basic, every man calls a woman by a flower. When he seen her, he thought he’d seen the angels his father said watched over them. He thought if she was watching over him — he wouldn’t mind it really. He ain’t know why, nor did he care to.

She looked like heaven on earth. Like the lord himself blessed him with her an’ told him keep her safe from harms way. That she was the fragile gift he had to keep from breaking. And though he’s young, and don’t know a thing bout’ how love works, he’s heard his momma speak bout it with one of the young girls in the choir, that you’ll know it when you feel it. That it feels like a breath of fresh air, without them by your side — you’d wouldn’t know how to breathe that air.

Sammie’s sure that’s what he’s feelin’.

“Sugar. I’ll call you sugar.”

“Why that? Am I a condiment?”

“No No, you’re just — sweet’n kind. That’s all.”

She hummed, nodding a little. She liked the name. Pretty nice, ain’t nothin’ mean bout the name. She’ll take it — plus preacher boy seemed pretty sweet himself.

“I’ll take it — Preacher boy.”

“Alright den’ Sugar.”

Since then, her an’ Sammie been attached by the hip. Growing up with each other. Taking the weekends and some days out the week to play together. Sometimes the whole lot of kids would be there but when it was just them, it was a lot better for both of them. Just them’n their jokes an’ ideas. Like two peas in a pod. Two puzzle pieces stuck together. Two souls meant to stay together.

Unfortunately, that ain’t last very long for them. Sugar had to move — folks sayin’ her momma thought it was safer for her up north with her auntie an’ cousins. Before she left — she gave sammie a lil’ chain she kept as a necklace, wrapped it round’ his wrist an’ told him keep it safe and clean. Promised her.

The next couple of days were rough, he ain’t play that much — always stood to the side’n on the street while the other kids ran. His momma noticed, told him she’s sure the girl would come back an’ won’t no doubt in her mind that she missed him as much ash he did her. Told him to stop brooding and go have fun.

He always wondered when she’d come back, always passing at the road she left from — hoping she’d appear.

“Sammie — Sammie, Sammie Moore!”

Elias smacked him upside the head. Stupid smirk he always wore on his face. Sammie rubbed his head — looking behind him making eye contact with his cousin.

“Boy I been callin’ yo name for the past five minutes. What got yo’ mind running huh? Let’s go, Smoke need us for sum’n.”

He had to be day dreaming again. It been a long couple years since she left. Still at his big age, he’d still look back at the road whenever he passed it. He missed her still, thinkin’ bout her smile from time to time. He still thought of what it would be like if she stayed. If her mom let her stay. They’d still be hangin’ by that field — he’d sing to her an’ she’d listen, humming along.

Him and Stack hopped into the car, Stack starting it up an’ driving off. Stack started humming sum kinda tune. Sammie wasn’t paying him no mind, too busy with his own thoughts. Till’ Stack turned to him.

“Hey — Ya’ know that girl you use ta’hang round’? One with the head full’a hair’n always being reckless like she got more than one life gave to er’? Heard she comin back to town, prolly’ tomorrow.”

Sammie paused, looked at him with wide eyes. Sugar, the girl that left years ago. The same girl he knew he loved, now that he’s older to understand what it was and what it meant. Was coming back. Back home. Tomorrow.

“Huh.”

Sammie smiled a bit to himself, looking down at her chain he kept on his wrist since she left. He upheld his promise to keep it in condition. It was still shiny, couple scratches but barely visible unless you were lookin’ too hard for sum’n. Sammie’s smile got bigger.

His Sugar was comin’ back — an’ he was keeping her this time.

——————————————————————————

🫶 — How we feeeel..when i was typing them meeting as kids i was thinking around 13-15, old enough to have a crush n understand at least what that was. Anyways hope yall like it 😪

[6fangz]

SOMETHING ON YOUR MIND

⋆ ♰.˚🦇⌗ ˎˊ˗

synopsis: sergeant williams has been on your case since the second you moved to town; the loathing is palpable, and yet something seems to draw you back together

warnings: there is a reference to being sl*pped in this (not ellie, very vague no detail) but pls read at your own risk (!), age gap (reader is 23, ellie is 28) starts kinda angry ig, some fluff, ends w smut, fingering (reader receives), this was my excuse to write southern ellie w a drawl

southern!officer!ellie x rebellious!fem!reader

MDNI 18 +

a/n: alright…hear me out on this one i swear i had a vision. it’s long and i still dk if this came together the way i wanted it to but whatever here it is anyways enjoy and i hope today was #fab ok bye

the sun peeks through your curtains, shining directly in your face as you stir awake. you run a hand over your eyes in annoyance.

the alarm clock on your nightstand lets you know it’s barely nine in the morning, which is still way too early to be conscious in your book. you bury your head back under your pillow.

but then you hear it; a bang on the front door of your beat up single wide. you don’t get up at first, because you don’t know who it could be and therefore you don’t care.

yet whoever it is remains persistent, knocking and knocking until you just can’t take it anymore.

you drag yourself out of your bed begrudgingly and shrug on a sweatshirt, tucking your feet into your beloved dino slippers out of habit.

your shoulders are heavy as you walk down the hall, so you roll them in an attempt to ease the tension. it doesn’t really work, and the pounding is bringing on a headache at this point.

“i’m fucking coming!”

you swing the door open a moment later, finding yourself face to face with none other than sergeant williams herself.

her cowboy hat is tilted low on her head, choppy hair framing her shaded face, but you can still see that she’s angry. the little line between her brows is a dead giveaway.

you smirk instinctively, hand perched on your hip as you squint at her. “ah, sarge. i’d say good morning, but it’s not.”

“nice shoes,” she grumbles in response, eyes sweeping over the rest of your disheveled state, “didn’t realize you’d be sleeping in.”

her comment actually does make you a little self conscious, enough to tug your sorry excuse for shorts down to cover yourself a bit more.

“well i was trying to, but you just woke me up, so how about we get on with whatever this is?”

ellie glares a little harder, thumb hooked in the waistband of her pants. “fine, you happen to slash noah bennett’s tires last night? cuz he’s real certain you did.”

the answer to that question is yes, but she doesn’t have anything on you. if she did, then you’d already be in her handcuffs on the way to the station.

you’re too careful for her regardless, and that makes you smile. “nope, wasn’t me. that’s hysterical, though.”

“i’m sure y’think it’s funny. got an alibi, kid?” she pushes, country drawl on full display.

you don’t shy away. “i was working the closing shift at the bar. ask literally anyone.”

also true; you were bartending last night, just like you normally are, but you had taken an extra long smoke break to visit noah’s most prized possession.

he respects that dumbass truck more than the women in his life, let alone women in general, and he deserved every bit of it after being a dickhead for so long.

you’ve never had a problem personally delivering karma, and nobody gets away with harassing a girl on shift.

at least not while you’re around.

the suspicion is written all over ellie’s face, but she’s grasping at straws and you both know it.

“i already have. but i needed to hear it straight from the accused herself.”

“aw, if you missed me you could’ve just said so.” you tease, placing a hand to your chest like you’re charmed.

she shakes her head in disbelief. “trust me when i say i cherish every moment you’re not makin’ my life more complicated.”

the thing is that you don’t trust her words, especially not when you swear she glances down at your lips as she says them. but it also makes your throat seize in a way you hate.

“great, we’re on the same page. now am i free to go or what?”

ellie has to gnaw on the inside of her cheek to keep herself from saying no. there’s not a logical reason to hold you up any longer, especially without any real evidence.

it was just important to follow up on every lead. right?

“yeah…suppose so. but i have a funny feelin’ i’ll be seeing you again soon.” she straightens and takes a few steps down your front porch.

“can’t wait.” you shoot back, not bothering to stick around for a response before you slam the door shut.

it satisfies you for a moment to let out some of your frustration, but the urge to scream follows you back to bed anyways.

ellie has been on your case since the moment you two met, and never once has she given you a chance.

she made up her mind about you then, that you’re just some burnout loser causing trouble in her jurisdiction. and you can’t say that description is too far off base.

but she doesn’t really know your life, and she never will. you’re not even sure that she experiences enough empathy to try.

so why does her opinion bother you so much?

you squeeze your eyes shut harder, trying to force your brain to be quiet. one of these days she’s going to drive you completely insane.

ellie remembers when you first moved to the area, over five years ago now. you were only eighteen, but already so set in your ways.

she was a few months out of academy, twenty three and very green in terms of her career. in fact, you were the first person she ever pulled over on a solo shift.

it immediately fazed her that she didn’t recognize you, considering everyone had practically known each other since birth. you were so nonchalant, so not threatened, and it made her crazy.

you just snapped your gum as she ran your plates, huffing like a brat when she ended up giving you a speeding ticket.

“seriously? i’m new to town, i didn’t even see the damn signs.”

“all five of ‘em, huh?” she spit back, though she regretted it instantly.

you looked at her with the fire of a thousand suns, and everything changed. the rivalry, the chase, began in that moment.

you slipped your sunglasses back over your face, smiling to yourself like something was funny. “make them a little bigger and maybe i’ll listen.”

ellie had hardly retreated before you sped off, turning the bend and disappearing completely before she had even gotten back to her car.

you’ve always been two steps ahead since. too smart for your own good, in her opinion.

she’d grown in the ranks remarkably fast, becoming the youngest sergeant in town history, and you still don’t take her seriously.

honestly, she doesn’t take herself seriously around you either. not any more at least. you’re a different woman now, somehow even more real and hardened by life.

maybe that’s what truly vexes ellie; she understands you, but you make it so difficult to not retaliate. every second the two of you interact it feels like her whole body is on fire.

she can barely keep herself together and it’s mortifying.

in fact, she’d initially wanted to go home tonight and enjoy a couple glasses of whiskey, forget all about you for a little while.

then she happened to drive by the abandoned strip mall and that plan went to hell.

your car sits alone in the lot, tucked away so it’s barely illuminated in the dying sun. but she’d recognize that model and color combination anywhere, and she can see you walking back to it as she swerves across the street without a second thought.

you’re in the middle of opening your driver's side door when ellie pulls up and flashes her lights briefly.

you roll your eyes on instinct. the last thing you were hoping for tonight was another lecture, but you turn to face her direction anyways.

she steps out of her vehicle and strolls over, readjusting the brim of her worn stetson. you swear she never takes that damn thing off.

“figured it’d be you.” she states plainly.

you tilt your head. “figured what would be me?”

she shoots you a look, genuinely surprised that you’re playing dumb with her about this one.

“the vandalism. noticed it a while back, but i couldn’t be sure i was right until i caught you.”

you cross your arms over your chest defensively. “first of all, it’s not vandalism, it’s art. and second of all, why would you assume it was me? i just went on a walk.”

she huffs out a soft laugh, and to your surprise she reaches her hand toward you.

you manage to stop yourself from flinching as ellie wraps her fingers around your wrist, untangling your arm gently so she can get a better look at the lingering spray paint.

it left a stains despite how hard you had scrubbed at it with wipes when you were done.

“wanna tell me the truth now?” she prompts, and you force yourself to meet her eyes.

her touch is unbelievably tender compared to her harsh exterior and rough hands, and it makes your heart wilt.

but you don’t let yourself think about it for long.

instead, you wrench out of her grasp and get right back to arguing. “fine, maybe it was me. but this building is literally ancient and i’m just making it look nicer, so what’s it to you?”

it kind of wounds her that you pulled away, but she can’t blame you either. she’d probably do the same in your position.

ellie tries not to let her damaged pride show when she finally answers.

“y’know, i actually agree with you for once.”

you don’t think she could’ve stunned you more if she tried. you’re not even sure that she’s ever said anything genuinely nice, at least not to your face.

“very funny.” you snark, because you still can’t believe it.

but she doubles down. “seriously, m’not here to take you in. nobody’s bought the mall in nearly thirty years anyways, and i really do like your paintings.”

her voice is warmer, sincere. she’s telling the truth for once.

you clasp your hands behind your back to keep yourself from fidgeting nervously. it’s unusual for her to catch you so off guard, but she’s enjoying the moment while it lasts.

there’s a flutter in your stomach that’s getting harder to ignore. you’re shoving it away with all of your willpower but it doesn’t help at all.

“oh. i, um…thanks.” you finally stutter it out.

she motions toward the building sheepishly. “show me the latest?”

your eyes widen even further; this interaction is not at all going how you expected it to. it isn’t what ellie had in mind either, but you’re both appreciating it all the same.

she really had been visiting the mall a little too frequently since she discovered your work. you’re the only person nearby with a creative bone in their body, so it was easy to figure you out.

it became a habit to check in and see if you’d added anything. every new piece was so intricate, and she loved each one for different reasons.

she didn’t intend to admit that to your face though, and she’s beginning to regret it until you pivot on your heel, adjusting your tote as you lead the way.

“alright. but this better not be a fucking trap or something.”

ellie is quick to follow suit, matching your pace as you walk. “not a trap, kid, i promise.”

“i have a name, by the way, and i’m sure as hell not a child.” you remind her briskly.

“really? must’ve forgotten.” she deadpans.

you smile slightly despite yourself, turning your head before she can catch a glimpse.

it’s nice interacting with someone equally as sardonic in nature, even if she does piss you off most of the time.

“you definitely didn’t.”

this quiets her immediately. she just shoves her hands in her pockets, twigs snapping under your feet as you trudge through the overgrown grass.

a moment later you round the corner to the back wall and color begins to light up the decaying brick.

you’re running out of room at this point, so the most recent picture is pretty close to the end near you.

a meteor in its blaze of glory, hurtling down to nowhere.

you point it out, though ellie spotted it on her own easily. “this is the one i just finished. tried out some different colors.”

“wow.” she states simply, stopping so close beside you that her shoulder brushes yours.

your brows furrow as you watch her inspect it without further comment.

“wow what?” you pry, trying not to let the edge make its way into your voice.

she pauses briefly before looking over at you. “it’s just impressive. you’ve got an actual vision, i mean you’re…you’re really somethin’.”

its your turn to be silent; you’re trying to read her face, because it suddenly feels like you’re in unfamiliar territory. there’s not a hint of animosity lingering in the air.

instead, ellie is looking at you all starry-eyed, and you feel like you’re being pulled into a current you can’t escape.

“do you mean that?” your voice is faint, almost like you’ve been subdued.

the validation is making you feel fuzzy, especially since it’s coming from the one person you thought would never say it.

she nods, and this time she’s staring at your mouth rather obviously. “meant every word.”

it’s so quiet, only the sound of the birds chirping somewhere above you, and it feels like the oxygen has been sucked out of your lungs.

ellie begins to shift, to inch even closer to you, but then your phone rings and you both jump apart so comically that the trance is broken straight away.

“shit…” you mutter, fishing around in your bag momentarily before yanking it out.

the number makes your stomach bottom out, and every pleasant emotion you just experienced evaporates from your body.

nothing nice can last for long.

ellie clears her throat and you snap to life, muting the ringer because you can’t answer it in front of her.

“sorry, i—um, i have to go.”

you don’t even bother making up an excuse; you just bolt past her, high tailing it back to your car without another word. instinct has taken over, and your body is moving on its own.

she calls after you, but you can barely hear it over the ringing in your ears. only once you’ve successfully made it behind the wheel do you check to see if ellie followed along.

you deflate a little when you realize that she hasn’t, and that she won’t.

it’s been three days. three days and three sleepless nights since ellie saw you last.

she’s been up in her head ever since you ran away, chastising herself for listening to those provocative little voices and wondering what's occupying your own mind.

it’s shameful to admit, but after twenty four hours of silence, she had a compulsion to check in.

a brief stop at the bar let her know that you weren’t working, so she’d cruised through your neighborhood to find out if you were home.

the driveway was empty, and it remained that way when she visited the second time around.

the longer you’re gone, the more uneasy ellie becomes, and you’ve been plaguing her thoughts even more than usual.

had she misread your feelings? taken it too far?

she needs to see you, to talk. and you’re nowhere to be found.

the sound of the resin balls cracking against each other nearby snaps her back into the present. she sniffs, taking a sip of her whiskey.

it’s getting late, nearly midnight now, but ellie can’t bring herself to leave the bar. listening to the chatter of others is comforting.

and though the alcohol isn’t making you reappear, it at least gets her to loosen up a bit.

another swig. this’ll be her third glass of jameson, and that needs to be the limit for now. lord knows how she runs her fucking mouth with a buzz.

she glances around again, and her eyes skip over you thoughtlessly before she does a double take seconds later.

you’re perched in one of the corner seats toward the back of the bar, nursing a beer by yourself. you look exhausted, staring down at the shitty wood below you and picking at your thumbs.

ellie has never seen you here before, since she knows you prefer to get drinks straight from your coworkers.

this is the only other place in town though, usually frequented by the old farmers because they’re allowed to smoke and play pool at the same time.

and through the haze, there you are.

her stomach twists; she’s not sure if she’s angry or hurt, but it’s an awful feeling all the same.

she’s headed your way before she can even take another breath. you’re so out of it that you don’t notice until she’s actually sat down on the stool beside you.

“where the hell have you—” she cuts herself off when you turn to fully look at her, and the air feels like it's been knocked from her lungs.

a bruise paints your right cheek, though it’s clear you attempted to cover it. your eyes are watery and unfocused. she watches the recognition wash over you slowly, and you smile.

“oh, hello there.” you state simply.

her blood is already simmering, and her fingers ache to reach out and brush your face. she barely stops herself, choosing to run them through her hair instead.

“i…you okay, kid?”

her voice is hesitant, because even though she wants to cave someone’s head in, she’s much more worried about approaching you with care.

you laugh a little, a hiccup mixing itself in at the end. “fuckin’ hate when you call me that.”

your hand is unsteady as you take another long sip of beer, and she thanks her lucky stars that you’re almost done with it. that’ll make it easier to get you out of here.

“you’re right, m’sorry. hell, you’re sittin’ at the bar and i’m still using that dumb nickname.” she says, scratching her chin awkwardly.

“whatever. been dubbed worse.” you shrug and let your gaze fall back to your knuckles.

ellie clears her throat, nudging her boot against your foot. “how about i take ya home, huh?”

“i’m not that fucked up, and for all i know you could be just as drunk.” you immediately get smart with her, but even you hear the way your words slur just slightly in the wrong places.

she shakes her head but keeps her tone even. “i know my limit, and i don’t go past it. how did you get here?”

“i rode my bike. i’ll be fine, don’t even worry about me.”

but she is worried, and you can tell by the way she rests her arm on the back of your chair that she’s not leaving your side.

three minutes ago you could’ve sworn that all you wanted was to be alone, but it’s actually reassuring to run into her.

“it’s dark and completely unsafe. you’re comin’ with me in the truck, and that’s that.”

you roll your eyes, but you don’t put up much of a fight. you’re tired enough as it is, and your house is over two miles away.

plus ellie smells so delicious, leathery and woodsy even through the smoke, and suddenly you don’t mind letting her assist.

“fine. but i get to pick the music.” you bargain, taking the final swig of your bottle out of spite before standing up.

she chuckles lowly, stretching out as she waits for you to grab your bag. “radio doesn’t work, but i got some CDs you can choose from.”

“you’re the youngest grandma i’ve ever met.”

“i can live with that.”

you follow her out of the bar, focusing on not tripping over your own feet while the breeze rifles through your hair.

ellie approaches the curb where your bike is perched and picks it up easily, carting it over to her old 93’ ford so she can lift it into the back.

you find yourself noticing the way her crewneck rides up to expose her stomach, plaid boxers peeking out from her baggy jeans. they sit low on her waist, low enough that you can see the shadow of her v line.

it makes your mouth dry, and dirty thoughts run through your mind without warning.

she comes around to the passenger side to swing the door open for you. you don’t interject when she goes a step further and helps hoist you up into the seat.

instead, you opt to enjoy her sturdy grip on your elbow.

the worn cloth interior is comforting, and even the car has taken on her scent at this point.

you’re already digging through the glove box by the time she’d made it around the hood and hopped up beside you.

“ellie’s magic mix?” you read off the title of one of the discs, and she can see the humorous glint in your eye.

“hey, be nice. it’s the first one i ever burned.” she explains.

you slide it into the player as she puts the car in reverse, and a few seconds later a brassy voice begins to hum through the speakers.

it’s familiar, which surprises you.

“charley pride?” you ask as ellie peels onto the road, and she looks over at you in wonder.

“and just how’d you know that?”

you shrug, grinning at her all loopy. “i like old records. the happiness of having you is one of my favorites.”

“well color me impressed.” she jokes.

a silence settles as you both listen contently, passing by the rolling hills that are shrouded in darkness. the car rumbles along against the uneven pavement, the only other noise aside from the song.

ellie shamelessly peers over as you stare out your window, chin resting against your arm while you contemplate something she can’t understand.

she doesn’t want to disturb, but she’s been waiting for a decent time to ask. it’ll never feel good, though, so she settles for right now.

“who gave you that shiner?”

you audibly suck in a breath, because you were dreading this inevitable conversation. “is it really important? i’m fine, and it won't happen again.”

“of course it’s important. someone hurt you, and i…i wasn’t there. but i can help, if you let me.” she’s practically begging you to trust her, and it’s obvious in her voice.

but you refuse. you fight against yourself yet again, like you’ve been conditioned into it.

“why would you have been there? i was at home. or my hometown, whatever. either way, it’s not your job to protect me.”

ellie’s eyebrows furrow in exasperation. “why d’you have to be so damn stubborn? can’t you just let someone care?”

“oh, and that someone is you? c’mon, don’t pretend like you suddenly give a fuck about me. you just want the thrill of acting like a savior.” you snap coldly.

the insult pierces through her like a shard of glass. her jaw ticks, fingers tightening against the steering wheel.

she can feel the angry truth welling in her throat. normally she’d choke it all back down, force herself to keep everything routine between the two of you.

but the flood gates are open, and you’ve pushed her beyond her limit this time.

“is that what you think? that i’ve never lost sleep over you, or gotten worked up over you? i was about to put out an APB when i realized you’d skipped town, and you’ve got the nerve to suggest that you don’t matter to me? i mean, fuck, all i can do when you’re not around is wonder where you are.”

this revelation makes you sit upright again, dumbfounded by the things coming out of her mouth.

so much is racing through your head at once, yet you remain eerily quiet. when ellie gains the confidence to glance over, she realizes you’re studying her face like you’re enraptured.

“stop lookin’ at me like and say something.” she grunts and turns her attention back to driving.

but a telling blush creeps up her neck, which you’re rarely lucky enough to see.

she doesn’t usually break a sweat like this, and you feel like you owe her the same candor in return.

even if it’s hard.

“that call that i got when we were together was from the hospital. it was my mom.”

you pause, taking a moment before throwing yourself forward. “so i visited, tried to get her on track again, but she didn’t want my help. she never has. and then things got heated. you can put the rest together.”

ellie can connect the dots, even though she hates what it leads her to.

you’ve always been self sufficient, but you also kept it a mystery as to why you’d moved or why you were all on your own in the first place.

she never pushed, mainly because you wouldn’t let her, but she can appreciate why you have the boundaries that you do.

instead of saying anything, she places a warm hand on your leg. not high enough on your thigh to be suggestive, but not low enough on your knee to be overtly friendly.

it’s not what you expected, but it’s what you were lacking all along; something to ground you, a reminder that she’s still beside you.

“i’m not going back again, y’know? seriously. i’ll be alright.” you reassure her solemnly, like it’s a pact now that you’re voicing it.

ellie nods, thumb brushing against your jeans naturally.

“i know you will. it’s who you are. but i’m sorry that you’ve been goin’ through this alone.”

her subtle movements send tingles of electricity through you, and your body is a little too excited by it.

“it’s mostly my choice anyways. i don’t let people get that far because i want to be alone. or, uh, i used to.” you fumble over it gracelessly.

you’ve never been very good at conveying your feelings when they’re positive, and with ellie it’s even weirder.

it’s easy to read between the lines, but she also wants you to say it. “and now you don’t?”

“no. not anymore.”

her cheeks grow even more red as she turns down your street, rocking slightly as you hit the numerous little potholes.

she slides her palm higher up your leg, whether it’s conscious or not. “interesting.”

your stomach flips in response, and when her eyes run over you again, they’re visibly darker than before.

there is something on your mind plays softly in the background, which is ironic because she’s overwhelming every single one of your senses. it’s been a while since you’ve felt like this, completely engulfed in another person.

maybe you had been mistaking passion for hatred this whole time.

a moment later you come to a screeching halt, and ellie moves her hand to throw the truck into park. it’s quiet; everyone’s lights are off, a sleepy fog crawling through the town.

“well, uh…” she attempts to start a sentence, a goodbye maybe, but there’s nothing coming to mind.

you’re so restless that your body decides to speak for the both of you; you unbuckle your seat belt, inching closer instead of heading for the door.

you grip her right shoulder gently, stabilizing yourself as you throw your leg across her lap to straddle her. a groan slips through her teeth when you readjust yourself on her hips.

you hold her neck, tracing her jawline slowly while she stares up at you.

“you sure you know what you’re doin?” ellie asks, restricting herself to grasping your thighs for now.

you nod, leaning in just enough to leave her aching for more. “i think i can handle it, sarge.”

the sweetness of your shampoo is intoxicating, and all it would take is a tiny move forward for her lips to close in on yours.

maybe it’s the longing on your face, or the way your hair is framing your cheeks, but the boundary of professionalism has completely blurred by now.

how can it be wrong when it feels this right?

so instead of arguing or being sarcastic, she closes the distance and kisses you. it’s soft, almost surprised at first. then she gets a taste of your minty chapstick and it’s hard not to devour you.

you pull her in even closer, tongues and teeth clashing together, and in the heat of the moment she barely notices you biting at her bottom lip.

it only electrifies her more when she does feel it, so much so that goosebumps crawl across her skin.

her palms travel to grope your tits needily and you let out a sigh that gets lost somewhere in the midst of your make out.

ellie had nearly snapped earlier seeing your cleavage on display in the little tank you had on under your jacket. she didn’t think she’d get to do anything about those indecent ideas, though.

“fuck, i’ve been waiting for this.” she breathes against your mouth, effectively working her way to your neck right after.

a moan finally escapes, a sound so goddamn divine she almost forgets how to function.

but she keeps peppering sloppy kisses down past your collarbone, determined to elicit that noise from you again.

“so you’ve always been hot for me, then?” you goad, though it’s hard to banter when you’re being so pleasantly distracted.

“i’d still call it a recent development.” ellie pauses to joke back.

but even after saying that, she’s dying to worship more of you, so she diverts her attention again to slip the straps of your top down.

her knuckles stroke your skin as she goes, and she’s got your bra unhooked in one suave maneuver.

you raise your eyebrows at her as she helps you out of it. “cute trick.”

she just smirks as she tosses the garment to the passenger side. you’re still decently concealed by the worn zip-up resting on your shoulders, but your cami is pulled down to your stomach to reveal your chest.

the sight of you alone makes ellie throb, pupils the size of saucers by now.

“i can do a lot more than that, sweetheart.” she promises, cupping your now exposed breasts so that she can drag the pads of her thumbs across your nipples.

you shiver at the sensation, pushing your torso into her harder without even realizing.

“show me, cowboy.” you whisper, and she can’t help but reclaim your lips before you even finish.

she continues grazing over your sensitive buds, which makes you whimper a little louder into her kiss.

it’s completely illogical to be doing this out in the open, but the homes are spaced out enough and her brain is too immersed in you to care about consequences.

you grind into her a little in an attempt to relieve some of the pressure building in your gut, though that’s not what you really want.

ellie knows it too, so she breaks away enough to speak. “something i can do for you?”

“just wondering what those fingers would feel like inside me.” you hum, and her hands drop to your waist without hesitation.

she wanted you to be in charge of how far this went, but she’d be lying if she said she didn’t want show you real pleasure.

and now she’s got the green light.

“filthy girl…can’t even make it into the house.”

there’s admiration in her tone as she frees the metal button to unzip your jeans, tugging them down your hips just enough to access you easier.

“it’s way more fun to live life on the edge.” you preach sarcastically, which she takes as more of a challenge than she should.

her hand dips into your pants and she skims across your clothed heat, enticingly slow to start.

your breath hitches in your throat and she feels your fist shift to grip her hair.

“then i sure hope you can be quiet for once.” ellie tests you right back, applying a bit more pressure as she traces the soft cotton.

you bite down on the inside of your cheek to try and hide your reaction, though every fiber of your body is ablaze.

it doesn’t help that she shifts down in the seat slightly, bringing herself more even with your breasts. she steadies your waist with her free hand as her mouth trails across the supple flesh, nipping at you every once in a while.

your panties are already damp, which rouses her so much that she decides not to boast. instead she pushes them to the side, letting her fingers run along your slick pussy.

the both of you groan, you into the open and her against your skin. she likes that you’re already clinging to her harder.

it makes her feel like you need her just as much.

ellie keeps the pace even but presses her tongue flat against your nipple, taking her time flicking back and forth. you squirm a bit, overwhelmed by the dual stimulation in the best way.

“a—aah…shit.” you whimper, rubbing yourself against her movements rhythmically.

she grins, lazily trailing her tongue across your skin, silently vowing that she won’t neglect an inch. “y’sound pretty when you’re not being a brat.”

“i’m not a—oh, holy fuck.”

without warning, ellie curls her middle finger and lets it slip inside of you, effectively cutting off your defense.

she slides it in and out a few times, giving you half a second to adjust before she adds another. you let out another lament, stunned even though it’s exactly what you want.

you clench around her and she swears under her breath. “so wet, so warm. you little minx.”

the praises go straight to your head, and you’re thirsting for her at this point.

she’s taking it slow, licking and sucking at your chest and neck while you move with the stroke of her arm. heat is building in your stomach, and you’re aching to spur the fire.

“faster ellie, please.” you beg, too far gone to worry about trivial things like dignity.

hearing you say her name while you plead is exhilarating, and all she wants to do is gratify your desires.

so she does just that, speeding up her fingers but ensuring that she buries them fully each time to hit all the right spots. and boy does she.

you tilt your head back slightly, giving her a better angle as you moan a little louder. it’s a sight to behold; your eyes screwed shut, tits bouncing in her face while she goes to work.

“please? didn’t realize i could’a just fucked some manners into you all this time.” ellie teases against your skin, and you give her a faint tug at her roots.

“shut up, i’m totally polite.” you bite back.

the way you’re sinking your hips down to fill yourself with her says otherwise, but it’s also ridiculously hot, so she doesn’t argue.

instead, she hums in agreement. “mhmm, such a lady, takin’ it so well.”

her compliments are leaving you absolutely spellbound, as much as you hate to admit it.

they’re dirty, and yet they sound so heavenly when she says them regardless.

your muscles are beginning to tighten from the pleasure, and ellie can feel it. but she knows she can get you there faster, make it even more intense.

so she continues pounding into you relentlessly, adding her thumb to the mix so that it brushes your clit.

your thighs twitch around her, and an involuntary cry leaves your throat.

“fuck, jesus christ!”

she smiles, completely ignoring the way her boxers are rumpled and sticky at this point. she’s not worried about herself; all she wants is for you to keep making those sweet little noises.

“feels good, huh, angel?” she asks, curving her fingers perfectly inside your cunt.

you nod, muttering something that’s not even coherent. your whole body is ablaze now; no part of your skin feels untouched by her goddamn magic.

ellie can’t believe she’s got you melting in her arms, exposed for anyone to walk up and see, but she loves it.

“right…there.” you gasp, clutching her hair and shoulder for dear life at this point.

she circles your swollen bundle of nerves harder while continuing to hit that sweet spot, and your legs feel like jelly.

you’re tensing around her hand with every stroke, all while she draws your skin between her teeth to leave hickies across the swell of your breasts.

huffs and groans fill the air, and it’s hard to tell where you begin and she ends. ellie doesn’t think she’s ever been this entranced by anyone, at least not in a very long time.

you’re goddamn beautiful, completely wild in this moment, and she adores it.

“i’m—mmm, gonna cum.” you whine, trying and failing to keep the desperate from your tone.

she doesn’t want it to end, but she hangs on to the hope that this is just the beginning and puts the rest of her energy into your satisfaction.

“give me everythin’, baby. let the whole fuckin town hear how dirty we are.”

she’s adjusts her grip to help rock you into her fingers, somehow filling you even more perfectly in the process.

your toes curl in your shoes right before your high crashes around you, mouth agape as you chant her name. your eyes squeeze shut while you finish, shaking lightly from the sheer force of it.

ellie keeps you steady while she gradually slows her tempo, simultaneously shimmying back up in the seat a bit so that she can watch you ride it out until the end.

the feeling of you cumming around her is something she’s not sure she’ll ever be able to forget, and the expression on your face is a close second.

finally, she stills completely, waiting until you’re able to look at her before she retracts her fingers.

they glisten in the nearby streetlights, slick from your orgasm, and your gaze glitters back as you watch her take them into her mouth.

you can see her tongue working, and she groans when she pulls them out fully clean a beat later, chest still heaving from all the activity.

“god, y’taste like heaven too.”

you cover your face with your hands in embarrassment, peeking through them as you shake your head slightly. “stop saying shit like that.”

ellie chuckles and tucks a stray strand of hair behind your ear for you. “why, cuz it turns you on?”

“no, because you sound like a dork.” you lie, though the mess in your pants says otherwise.

ellie smacks your ass lightly in response. your arms fly down to wrap around her neck again as you let out a squeak of surprise.

“always gotta be a rebel, don’t ya?” she says, smoothing her palm over the place where it had previously landed.

there’s a smile plastered across her face though, probably similar to the fucked out one you’re wearing yourself.

you tangle your fingers in her hair, forcing her attention back to you. “well, someone has to make you do your job.”

“please, i know you’re soft for me under all that armor.”

you narrow your eyes playfully before pressing your forehead against hers. “i’ll deny it in public.”

ellie chuckles, and you feel her breath fan across your face. “we can work on that. how ‘bout we go inside and getcha cleaned up for now?”

“is this an excuse to see me fully naked?” you question as she slips the straps of your tank back over your shoulders gently.

“oh, are we still pretending that you don’t want me just as much?”

you place a chaste kiss to her lips. “yeah, yeah. touché.”

[theyhavetakenovermylife]

Hiii :D would u be willing to make a 2012 leo x fem reader where reader is very dense to leo's obvious crush on her? And everyone else knows it and tries to be his wingman but reader just doesn't get it until he spells it out for her? Ofc if u don't want to you can ignore! I love your work xoxo 💕

We Just Have To Set The Mood (Fluff)

2012!Leonardo x reader

A/N: Finally got around to do this one! I decided to have a little fun and write it from the other’s perspective, just to try something a little different. I had a hard time doing it so Leo actually spelled it out to the reader, so I decided to focus on the wingman aspect of your request. I started to get a little bit of a writer's block towards the end, but I really wanted to get this finished for you💙 Hope you’ll enjoy anyway💙

Warnings: None💙

“Is she blind or something?”, Raph whispered in utter disbelief, watching you and Leo on the couch from his and Donnie’s hiding spot behind a pillar, their eyes following the movements of the two of you as you casually talked. Well, you at least seemed casual. Leo on the other hand looked like a love lost puppy, with practically bright pink hearts for eyes and a dreamy smile smeared over his face, as he listened to you talk. “I mean, look at him. He follows her around like a lost puppy! How has she not noticed?!”

“It’s (Y/N) we’re talking about, Raph”, Donnie reminded his brother. “This is the same girl that literally has been oblivious to Leo’s crush for years now. Have you forgotten the time Leo thought he had asked her out on a date, but then she brought April along, thinking it was a casual get together?”

“Don’t remind me”, Raph mumbled. “He was a sighing mess for two weeks, and he really wanted me to ask about it”.

“Did you ask him about it?”, Donnie questioned, raising a brow muscle.

“Of course not”, Raph said, neither he nor Donnie noticing the orange clad bundle of joy, silently making his way to his brothers from behind. “If I ask about it once, he will expect me to ask about it again another day”.

“What are we talking about?”, Mikey’s voice suddenly sounded behind the two brothers, causing them to do a little jump in surprise. So much for being a ninja, and you can’t even hear your little brother casually walking up behind you.

“Leo and (Y/N)”, Donnie said, sparing Raph from the madness. “They are talking, but (Y/N) is still as oblivious as always”.

“You’re joking”, Mikey said in disbelief, peeking out from his brothers’ hiding spot, to see the scene unfolding on the couch. He could practically hear Leo’s heart beat in his chest as you spoke, his hands fiddling with themselves in an effort to keep himself calm. Damn, he was struck hard.

“How long have they been sitting there?”, Mikey asked.

“An hour or two”, Raph answered. “And nothing has happened, other than Leo looking like an absolute fool”.

“We have to do something”, Mikey said, suddenly sounding like a man on a mission, making Raph’s eyes widen in fear for what his little brother may have had in mind. Donnie on the other hand just seemed sceptical.

“There’s not much we can do”, Donnie said, placing his hands on his hips. “Leo has specifically asked us not to let (Y/N) know, and so far he doesn’t seem like he’s ready to tell her”.

“Nobody has to tell anybody anything”, Mikey smiled, already having an idea in mind. “We just have to set the mood”.

“And how are we supposed to do that?”, Raph asked, crossing his arms, seeming not the least bit convinced by Mikey’s words. “We live in a sewer, for crying out loud”.

With a smile Mikey turned to his brother in red, before wiggling his brow muscles. “Where there’s a will, there’s a way”, was all he said, before slipping out of his brothers’ hiding spot, making his way across the room, heading straight for the kitchen.

Watching in confusion and curiosity, Donnie and Raph’s eyes followed Mikey as he made his way through the living area, past you and Leo. You, only seeming lightly aware of Mikey’s presence in the room, and Leo focused on nothing else but you.

It didn’t take long before Mikey came back from the kitchen, with a pack of chocolate in his hand. With a small skip in his step, Mikey made his way towards the couch, before taking a seat next to Leo on the opposite side of you, causing the older turtle to shoot him an annoyed look. The last thing Leo wanted right now, was for his brothers to ruin what small moments he got to spend alone with you.

“So”, Mikey said, opening the pack of chocolate in his hands. “How are you two doing today?” Out of the corner of his eye, Mikey could see both Raph and Donnie facepalm. But they did not know what Mikey had planned, and therefore Mikey was comfortable in his actions.

“We’re good, Mikey”, you smiled, not noticing the daggers Leo was staring at his youngest brother. “What about you?”

“Oh, I’m good”, Mikey smiled, holding up the chocolate. “Just about to enjoy myself a treat”.

“Mikey”, Leo suddenly said, almost in a warning tone, trying to find a reason to get Mikey away from the main living area, so he could be alone with you again. “Didn’t you have that thing to do in your room?”

“What thing?”, Mikey asked, acting like he had no clue what Leo was talking about. But he knew exactly what Leo was trying to do.

“That thing you talked about earlier today”, Leo said, giving his brother a warning look.

“Oh!”, Mikey suddenly exclaimed, acting like Leo had reminded him of something. “You’re right! That thing!”

Mikey quickly got up from the couch, before springing towards his room, and the pillar Raph and Donnie still stood hiding behind. You and Leo giggled at each other, when you saw that Mikey had left his chocolate behind, however neither of you seemed to notice how the orange clad turtle still had the TV remote in his hand as he left.

“How is that going to set the mood?”, Raph whispered in a harsh voice, wondering if Mikey had lost his mind.

“Have faith in me brotha”, Mikey said, dingling the TV remote in front of his face. “I know what I’m doing”.

Frowning with confusion, Donnie and Raph watched as Mikey made his way over to the light switch, before turning it off. That caused a small startled sound from you, followed by small laughs from both you and Leo, saying something along the lines of it probably just behind his brothers pulling a prank of sorts. Much to both Raph and Donnie’s surprise, Leo suddenly seemed much less nervous, his laugh actually sounding somewhat confident.

With a big smile plastered over his face, Mikey made his way back to the pillar, giving his brothers a wink. “Now watch this”. With the TV remote in hand, Mikey pressed the on button, then sudden light from the TV filled you and Leo’s field of view, causing the two of you to jump in surprise, followed by the two of you laughing once more from your sudden shock.

“Now”, Mikey said, crossing his arms. “We just let the magic play out”.

“What magic?”, Raph asked, still not convinced.

“I think he’s talking about that magic”, Donnie said, pointing to you and Leo who had scooted closer to each other, so you had an easier time sharing the chocolate.

“I don’t believe it”, Raph mumbled, mouth open in disbelief, as you suddenly, for once looked at Leo with a hint of what he had been looking at you with.

“What is playing anyway?”, Donnie asked, honestly impressed with what he saw.

“Just that romantic series everyone is talking about”, Mikey said. “There’s a marathon tonight, so those two will have plenty of time to figure things out”.

“B- but”, Raph stammered, still not truly able to believe what was going on. “How did you know it would work? How did you know that was playing tonight?”

Mikey shrugged his shoulders with a small smile. “I got my secrets”.

“Secrets my shell”, Raph snarred. “How did you know?”

“Guys…”, Donnie said, trying to get his brothers’ attention so they could see how the scene on the couch was evolving.

“I can’t tell you all of my secrets”, Mikey said with a shrug, enjoying how it seemed to annoy Raph.

“You little-”.

“Guys!”, Donnie whispered more harshly, finally gaining the arguing turtles attention. “Look!”, he said, pointing towards you and Leo, who now sat on the couch with your arms loosely draped around each other, and your lips connected in a soft and sweet kiss.

Raph blinked at the sight, before turning to look at Mikey, who stood with a big smile. “I told you we just had to set the mood”. 

[lewismcqueen]

Hello fellow Lewis wifie

Can I request the Lewis x Journalist!reader NSFW prompt you have available. I'll let you have creative freedom with the plot.

Thanks so much

journalistic integrity.

cw: none except for sex (as you can see), and corny romcom dialogue a/n: totally freewrote this but I hope you enjoy anyway!

Lewis Hamilton was far from your biggest fan--or so you believed.

Every time his eyes landed on you from behind the mic at press conferences, he gave you a tired, withering look that said 'I would really prefer it if you weren't here'.

Your hard questions were rapid-fire and relentless, and you did not let him dodge a single one. You knew how to phrase an inquiry in such a way that Hamilton often found himself giving you the precise answers you wanted without even realizing he'd done it, until the next fair-but-scathing article was published under your name. Once, the man audibly sighed the moment he saw your familiar slick bun and navy blazer enter a half-empty conference room.

So it was a surprise to you when he approached you at the after-party of tonight's gala. Smiling.

"Enjoying your night?" he asked, hand in one pocket of his loosely-draped dress pants. He wore a well-tailored suit that looked formal enough but with enough asymmetry around the lapels to be fashionable.

You swirled your flute of champagne in one hand, your scrutinizing, deep brown eyes considering him. The corner of your mouth quirked up in amusement as he gazed intently at you, awaiting an answer.

"You know you don't have to play nice for the cameras anymore, right?" You made a show of looking around the dark ballroom bustling with guests, your white evening dress fluttering around your figure as you did so. "Nobody's filming."

Lewis didn't break eye-contact for even a second, his expression settling into some sort of half-smile. "Believe it or not, I wanted to chat with you."

You took a long sip of your champagne before replying.

"I dunno, Hamilton. I just find it hard to believe."

"That someone actually wants to talk to you?" The man lifted an eyebrow teasingly.

"No, I find it hard to believe that you would rather go up to a journalist outside of race week rather than one of your little friends back there."

You tilted your chin towards a cluster of other Formula 1 drivers and B-list celebrities that could afford to dress up for the night. Lewis briefly looked over his shoulder at the group and shrugged.

"'Friends' is a bit generous," he admitted. "Anyway, I think you're a bit more interesting. Don't you think?"

You felt your face heat up, making you instinctively hide the lower half behind your glass as if you were going to take another sip. Not that Lewis would be able to detect it if you'd blushed. What was he playing at?

"I think I might be a change of pace from folks who just go buy yachts when they're bored, that's for sure."

This pulled a laugh out of him. Not a media-trained chuckle, but a genuine laugh that showed off his signature tooth gap.

"So you agree then? That you're interesting?"

You failed to hold back a grin.

"If you want a real conversation, flattery won't get you what you want."

Lewis took a deliberate but small step towards you.

"What do you think I want?"

"A puff piece, maybe? More favorable coverage?" You tilted your head, "Go softer on you on media days?"

He mirrored the action, eyes glinting playfully. "I don't need you to write me a good referral in your paper, love. I do all my shit-talking on the track."

The sudden vulgarity surprised you a bit, but you kept your composure, narrowing your eyes.

"You don't seem to like my hard-hitting questions when I ask them."

"I certainly don't like them in the moment, but...I like your honesty," he winked, "You can hit me as hard as you like."

Heat shot down through your chest and stomach, then even lower. The innuendo would've sounded crass if it wasn't softened by the man's breathy, subtle voice. It must've shown on your face that you caught on, because he looked satisfied with himself as he took a moment to register your expression. You tried to retain some of your boldness before you could unravel in front of him.

"Sure thing. I'll make sure to include in my next byline that you like it rough."

Instead of catching Lewis off-guard like you had intended, his eyes darkened, though the half-smile didn't leave his face. The staring contest was interrupted by a voice that sounded like another driver calling out his name from behind you.

"I do," was the last thing he said as he leaned in close so that only you could hear.

You caught the smell of rich cologne when he brushed past you, a consequence of you taking a deep breath to try and calm your heart as it attempted to beat out of your chest.

The plan to fluster him back had backfired, but you didn't truly realize just how much it had backfired until you found yourself following him to his hotel even later into the night. You, the skeptical journalist who brought reading glasses to press conferences and never missed a media day, following a driver you hardly know just because he made you throb a little on the inside.

Lewis was funny, you had to admit. You thought that a man as well-spoken as him would spend the whole night trying to one-up you. As much as it bothered you, he was right; he didn't speak like someone who had anything to prove. At least not here. Off-track, Lewis was keen on keeping you entertained, gauging your reaction each time he made a joke as if he fed off of your laughter. And every time, your laugh got louder.

"I've never seen you smile like that before," he observed with a grin that made his eyes crinkle. He paused, then amended, "Or at all, really."

You quipped, "Well, the only time you see me is when I'm wiping the floor with you during press conferences."

Lewis leaned his head back into the seat, lidded eyes roaming over your figure while still making conversation.

"'Wiping the floor'? Are we in a competition with each other, is that it?"

"Well, yes, Hamilton, we are in fact at war with each other every time I interview you."

"Lewis."

"Hm?"

He held your gaze this time, a more earnest expression settling onto his features.

"Call me Lewis," A sly smile broke through. "Unless you'd rather be screaming my last name, just let me know."

You snorted, "Absolutely not."

"Hey, people have got preferences. I had someone ask to call me 'Sir Hamilton' the entire time, and it was a bit weird, but it was a fun time regardless."

"Hm," you smirked, "I always thought you might like making folks call you 'Sir'. Are you not into that?"

Lewis made a face. "Nah, not my style."

"Not even as a power fantasy sort of thing?"

"Nope," he laughed. "I didn't realize you were thinkin' about it that much. Now what does that say about you?"

-

A small pit began to form in your stomach as soon as the ritzy hotel Lewis was staying at came into view. For the first time since he first struck up a conversation with you back at the after-party, you began thinking rationally.

You'd be seen in public. Following Lewis Hamilton into a hotel. In public. You began to gnaw on your bottom lip, already considering apologizing and telling the chauffeur to turn around.

Lewis seemed to notice. "Walk in a couple minutes after me. Can't guarantee no one will notice you, though."

You look away for a moment to stare out of the window.

"You do this often, huh?"

"I do this a reasonable amount."

The silent part of that sentence: 'You know what you signed up for, right?'

You did, but it was a matter of how badly you wanted it. You looked over at Lewis, who observed you mutually. Your eyes moved downward until you reached his ringed index finger, slowly tapping his thigh as he waited for you to make your decision. Tension gathered in your lower abdomen again, searingly hot and impossible to ignore.

Fuck it.

"Fine. We're here already, aren't we?"

-

"What's wrong?" Lewis asked as he began removing his suit. He opened a small closet by the door and neatly hung it up.

"Nothing's wrong. Why?"

"You're just kind of standing there."

You blinked. "Right, sorry. It's been a long time since—"

"It's fine," he turned to you with a gentle smile. He gestured towards your dress. "Need help with that?"

You drew closer to him before turning around, offering him a good view of the plunging back of the garment where the too-small zipper was.

"Yeah, definitely. My stylist actually had to help me into this thing because the zipper is fucking microscopic."

You heard a low chuckle behind you as Lewis slowly unzipped the back, the wide straps descending down your shoulders.

"Good call. It's a little stuck...there we go."

Soon there was a pool of creamy-white satin surrounding your bare legs and heeled feet, the air conditioning causing goosebumps to rise all over your skin. His eyes glinted in the low lighting as they flickered up and down your figure. You suddenly became very aware of the plain cotton panties you hastily chose before rushing out the door in the evening.

The cold metal of Lewis' wristwatch brushed the skin of your waist. Before his fingers could break past the band of your underwear, caught his wrist and turned to face him with a grin.

"Hold on, now, I can't be the first one to get fully naked. We're in this together."

Lewis snorted and shook his head as he began to undo his tie. "If you wanted me to strip for you, you could've just said so."

You watched him make a show of unbuttoning his shirt, eyes clouded over with want as they met his. By the time he reached his belt buckle, your patience had run out.

You hastily stepped out of your beige pumps. "I'll do the rest."

Palm flat on his bare chest, he let you push him gently backwards until the back of his legs hit the king-size bed. He sunk into the soft mattress and spread his thighs apart as he adjusted his weight, leaning back on his elbows to look up at you expectantly with a smile that feigned innocence.

Moving to position yourself between his thighs, you slid your hand down his chest, down his stomach, until you reached his waist and began to undo the buckle. Another rational thought resurfaced that made you pause.

"Do you have—"

"Yes," Lewis replied with a knowing grin.

Your eyebrows shot up comically. "You didn't let me finish the question."

He gave you a funny look.

"Come on, now."

Laughing, you finished undoing his belt and unzipped his pants before briefly removing yourself from between his legs.

"Tell me where you keep 'em."

"See the nightstand over there? Bottom left drawer."

"Cool."

-

It didn't take long for his pants to end up discarded on the floor next to the bed, thin fabric the only thing separating you from the growing hardness in his boxers as you leaned down for an increasingly-desperate kiss. Lewis slid his hands down from your waist to your ass, digging the tips of his fingers into the soft flesh as he squeezed.

Feeling your underwear soaking through, you rolled your hips in a slow rhythm to create even just the slightest bit of friction. He gave you what you wanted, rolling his hips upward while holding you down to make sure you felt him.

You had to practically peel your underwear off, wincing mentally at how you were going to deal with that in the morning before shoving it to the back of your mind.

Lewis had gotten rid of his boxers, hissing a little as the cool air hit him. He let you slide the thin condom over his glistening length while he watched through thick dark eyelashes, gasping when you sunk down onto it a little too quickly.

You felt his breath become heavy against your skin while you bounced up and down, starting off slow and then speeding up once you used him to find your sweetspot. Lewis lay flat on his back now, watching how your breasts moved with you as he held your hips in place.

"You're quieter than I thought you'd be," he remarked, sounding nearly out of breath in between grunts and quiet swearing.

You slowed your pace and looked down at him with a smug look, equally winded. "Thought I'd be...thought I'd be screaming your name by now?"

The implied challenge seemed to snap Lewis out of whatever haze he was in. He gave you a thin smile.

"You don't mind messing up that silk press, do you?"

You laughed, thinking of how frizzy it must be getting now that you were beginning to sweat.

"Not at this point. Why?"

His smile deepened. "Get on your back."

It took nearly all of your oxygen not to let out a moan as he hit that same spot as before, but hovering over you this time. And painfully slow.

"Keep your eyes open for me," he instructed with the terrifying calm of a surgeon that was about to perform an operation.

"I-I can't..."

You were a squirming mess, bucking your hips in the hopes that it would bring you closer to release. Lewis stopped and let you squirm for a bit before bringing a warm hand up to your face, cupping your cheek. He used his thumb to swipe away a loose strand of hair that had gotten stuck to your face before brushing it across your lower lip.

"You can do it," he pushed his thumb into your slightly open mouth, and you let your tongue glide over the digit. It was salty with sweat. "Just look at me."

He removed the wet thumb after you sucked on it and let it go with a pop. The corner of his lips quirked up in amusement when he noticed your hand had slowly traveled from your stomach to in between your thighs.

"What's funny?"

"You're not slick. Move your hand, sweetheart."

You stopped flicking your finger momentarily, but looked up with a clear defiance.

"You didn't say I had to follow instructions."

Lewis seemed to enjoy the back-talk. "I didn't have to tell you, you just did because you like doing what I say. Now move your hand before I move it for you."

You didn't budge, the low-stakes 'warning' sending a surge of adrenaline through you. The thrill of waiting for his reaction soaked the sheets even further.

As expected, both hands were shortly pinned above your head, held down by just one of Lewis's. The metal of one of his rings began to dig into your skin, but you found you didn't mind.

With the other hand, he pressed the thumb he'd just had in your mouth to where you'd just had your own finger and circled it. Your breaths grew heavier and closer together. Why he had just replaced your hand with his was lost on you until he went back to thrusting with more force than before at the same time. The plan was to overwhelm.

Still holding back from making any noise, you inhaled sharply when he began alternating between circling and rubbing, occasionally licking his thumb mid-thrust to re-lubricate. No longer needing to pin your hands down (you kept them high above your head all on your own), Lewis placed his free hand beneath your knee to hold your leg in place, keeping your thighs from coming together.

An orgasm began to build as he sped up, bringing you closer to the edge as heat spread throughout your middle and inner thighs. The air conditioner was just loud enough to somewhat mask the sound each thrust made. Then, just as you were about to release, your eyes fluttered closed for just a moment. But that was enough for Lewis to drag you back from the edge.

"Lewis, wait—"

The feeling of him pulling out caused you to make a sound like a half-moan, half-whimper.

A wicked grin spread across his face.

He said quietly but triumphantly, "There she is."

You gasped as his middle finger slid teasingly up and down your entrance.

"Fuck you," you exhaled. "Put it back in."

"I might, if you say 'please'."

"Fine. Please."

He remained still.

"No attitude."

"Please?"

"That's better."

With little to no effort, Lewis hoisted both of your legs onto his shoulders so that your ankles rested just behind his ears. Slowly, he re-entered, making you shudder. You felt him deep in your lower abdomen as he picked up the pace again, angling himself upwards to hit that spot more relentlessly than before.

Your eyes rolled back as you completely lost yourself in the feeling, forgetting all about his instructions. If he saw, he didn't care, too busy enjoying the sound of his name on your lips, repeated with increasing fervor until you reached the edge of the abyss again. Reduced to incoherent whimpering sounds, you wrapped your arms around his neck, bringing him closer to you as your legs trembled.

White hot pleasure finally shot through you as you tumbled over that edge, ripping from your throat a poorly-restrained, ugly cry that ended in a scream that you didn't think you were capable of.

Lewis soon followed after you as you clenched around him, his muscles tensing and rhythm becoming more erratic before he finished with a shaky sigh. You released him from the odd bear hug you had him in so he could roll over and discard the used condom in the small trash can sitting next to the bed.

The expected wave of calm washed over you, but only for a moment. A clear head meant you now needed to think about how you were gonna get back to your own hotel. It was thankfully still dark out, but the sky would turn a pale blue soon. Lewis sat on the edge of the bed to unlock his phone. You looked over his shoulder to confirm: 3:55am.

"Shit," he muttered under his breath as he tugged his boxers on. You stared up at the ceiling. 'Shit' was right. "You asleep?"

"Nope," you rasped, the night already taking its toll on your vocal cords. "I gotta figure out how I'm gonna clean up before tomorrow's press conference and explain why I left the party with you."

"I assume you're not gonna just tell the truth?"

You sat up, covering your bare chest with the sheets. "No offense, but I'm taking this shit to the grave if I can."

The mattress shifted as Lewis got up, presumably to locate his pants. He gave you a wry smile.

"None taken. I won't say anything if you don't."

Finally mustering the will to remove the warm blanket, you swung your legs over the side. As soon as you got up, your knees buckled as of you'd just exercised, a dull ache throbbing in your core. Unfortunately, Lewis caught the exact moment you fell backwards and stifled a laugh.

"It's not funny," you said, despite bursting into laughter yourself. "This is your fault, anyway!"

"I'm not the one who begged me to put it back in, mate. Are you even gonna be able to walk through the paddock?"

You shrugged before bending down to grab your panties off the floor. "I'll suck it up and blame it on leg day if anyone asks."

"How long have you got?"

"Counting the time it'll take to get back to my room? Maybe forty-five minutes, tops."

Now wearing a purple graphic tee with a yellow design on it, Lewis flopped back down onto the bed with his phone in-hand.

"I can drop you off. But I need a twenty-minute nap first."

You took a moment to consider. Not having to wait for a cab or an Uber shaved off at least a little bit of time. It's not like you could run off anywhere at the moment. Tentatively, you settled back into the sheets as he set a timer and set the phone on his nightstand. It didn't take long for sleep to take over.

[glitter-stained]

I always feel like a little sad seeing posts about how Jason's character is inherently tragic and that's what makes it good, how him being unloved, a tragic consequence of his own actions, is inevitable, and how that shouldn't change because any change on that regard is a fundamental misunderstanding of his character. Yes, Under the Hood is a tragedy. Yes, Jason survived and for a long time people have been pretty confused at what to do with the character that survives the tragic ending. That doesn't mean he should continue to be trapped in the tragedy, that there's only value in him as long as he's unloved. And maybe that's me preaching and being a party pooper again but the idea that the teenage-to-young adult character with a mental illness that has damaged all his relationships is doomed to be lonely and have bad/upended relationships forever, that he's only good as a character as long as he's hurting others and/or himself (and usually both) and isolated because of this... It's sad, at the very least. I refuse the presumption that tragedies are the only stories wise and worth telling.

Also I personally really dislike the idea that Jason isn't and shouldn't be anyone's favourite, because he made himself nobody's favourite on purpose. Did he make himself a villain on purpose? Fuck yeah. Does any of his early attempts at reaching out to people hurt them? Indubitably. I maintain that this is because he wants to be someone's favourite as he is, at his worst, with his hands covered in blood. And I think he should be. (Without contradicting or damaging, by comparison, the relationships between other characters, that's the tightrope we need to be weary of when making such things, of course.)

It's like this: love, in most relationships, is conditional: you don't owe your friend or your partner to continue to love them if the relationship changes, if you change, if you become violent etc. If my girlfriend started murdering puppies, I would stop loving her. Ideally, however a parent's love for their child is unconditional. That's very often unfortunately not the case, but ideally it'd be, it's really not great for a kid to have zero parents that love them unconditionally. And most importantly, it's not just about actual unconditional love, it's about it being perceived. So it doesn't matter in the debate if Bruce actually loves Jason in spite of the murder, it matters that Jason asks for confirmation of it at the end of UTH and receives a negative answer. (similar arguments to be made about Catherine loving Jason and dying of drug overdose and Willis going to jail and dying - it's the potential perceived abandonment of it that would matter, not their agency and actual love. And it's not a question of whether he would be angry at it so much as that he'd yearn and hurt for it. And of course Sheila didn't love him at all.) That's why he, upon learning about Mia and reaching previously unknown to man levels of projection*, tries to rally her with the hope that, because she's "so similar to him" she would understand him. That's why upon learning about Dick "killing" Blockbuster Jason, again projecting more violently than a bullet, Jason makes Dick into his new favourite person (god, the concept behind BiB has so much potential why did it have to suck so bad...) Anyway, Jason to me is a character with a very intense, very overwhelming conception of love both in who he loves and how, who struggles to understand that other people love and show it differently, and it makes so much sense for him to keep looking for a person who will love him unconditionally (something that's both very rare and not necessarily healthy since, again, most relationships aside from parent-child relationships do not and probably should not include unconditional love). This is particularly interesting in the context of him having bpd (again, using bpd because i'm focusing on the interpersonal dimension that's been mostly studied within that frame) because BPD often functions around a vicious circle of "is afraid of rejection/abandonment -> does maladaptive behaviour in attempt to prevent rejection/abandonment OR protect oneself by being the one to leave first" which is what leads to the instability in relationships. It's a doomed prophecy: i have maladaptive patterns that make me think my girlfriend is gonna leave me at any time, I keep demanding to see her phone, assuming she's cheating everytime she leaves and thus demonizing her even though I was glorifying her five minutes earlier" then she's going to leave me, which is gonna reinforce my thought pattern that everyone always leaves me. But that also means that in rare instances in which the other person in the interact, for whichever reason, sticks around through that, then these incorrect thought patterns begin to change through the sheet logic of extinction: if i think that people always leave me because of something fundamentally wrong with me and people don't leave then eventually the idea that people are doomed to abandon/reject me is going to lose its power. That's, btw, an important part of why therapy works.

(*that one's a joke, btw. He's not projecting onto mia and dick to levels impossible to mankind, just pretty intensely. Very human levels of projection, might I add'. Just to clarify.)

Now, be mindful: I'm not saying make Jason an abusive boyfriend. I'm not saying put him in a relationship where the other stays because they're afraid of him, that's not unconditional love or acceptance that's just fear. Of course, the ideal version of it would be Jason goes to therapy but because dc hates me specifically this is never gonna happen, but imagine him being in a relationship, romantic or otherwise, with someone who is as intense and "unwell" about him as he is about them. I'm not saying it would fix him (again, get him so goddamn therapy jfc) but it would change him. And just as it doesn't have to be healthy it doesn't have to be tragic.

I was asked a while ago my thoughts on Jason's current stagnancy as a character and if I thought he could become interesting again, and I said yes and talked about the directions I dream would be explored with his character and their potential. My answer hasn't changed, and it's completely compatible with this, but I will add: I think Jason as a character has largely and for long enough been defined through his yearning to be somebody's favourite, and that if you want his mode of interacting with others and dynamic with different characters to change then this is a very logical way to do it. And it would make a lot of sense for it to be the catalyst for other changes in his character (ie in his name or philosophy).

Get that boy into a super intense long-term codependent situationship, is what I'm saying. Please.

[fashionteahouse]

out of your league - paul x reader

AN: thanks so much for loving twenty seven parts of this series ! this means a whole lot and you all have special places in my heart ❤️ enjoy <<prev >>next

It was as if the president had touched down in La Push soil. Word got around fast that Rachel Black had came back, even though it was temporary. So it was said.

“You already know Bella.” Jacob says to her.

She nods as she looked at the girl who stole her brother's heart.

"How you been?" she asked Bella.

"Good." Bella responded shyly.

“And this is Y/N.”

She only nods a hello.

You silently give her a quick wave.

“So, my baby brother has a kid and nobody told me?”

Jacob laughs as he continued to hold your child, “No. This is Y/N’s baby.”

“Oh.” she says as she relaxes, “Cute.”

The pack comes in and they rush to her, all saying, “Rachel!”

She’s smiling, pushing some of them away so she could breathe from the crushed hugs. Questions bubble around her. Quil of course, trying his best to test his flirting skills.

Billy soaked it all in as he sat in his chair smiling softly at the interactions.

Leah even came over with Harry and Sue, Leah was smiling at Rachel who came. One could easily figure out that they were very close friends before Rachel had left La Push.

They fell into conversation, asking each other how each other have been. Rachel made Leah smile large as she exclaimed she loved her haircut.

The other elders were scattered around the other parts of the home as they ate and talked. The pack and imprints sat with Rachel at the table as they threw questions about her new life.

“What were you studying?” Kim asks her.

“Computer engineering.” she says proudly. Lots of “wow”s circled the table.

You did notice, she barely spoke to you and Bella, for whatever reason. You didn’t think too much of it. You and Bella just simply made private conversation of your own since you both were sitting with each other.

You told her about your trip to Italy soon. You ask if she wants to come.

“That’s great! I wish I could come, but I will be too busy with online classes. I won’t be able to enjoy it.” she says.

“That’s a bummer.” you say.

“As if you’re going anyway. That’s out of the country Bells. That would kill me.” Jacob says as he picked up what she said. She playfully waved him off.

“What’s out of the country?” Rachel asks as she looked between them two.

“Italy.” Bella answers quietly.

“What would you do all the way in Italy? Spring break?”

“No. Y/N’s going there for work.”

“What do you do?” she asks you.

“Art.” You answer.

Her dead expression matched the eyebrows that lifted only a bit as she asked, “That’s it?”

“Why did you say it like that?” Jacob says with roll of his eyes at his older sister.

Scattered snorts from her unexpected statement were heard and you lean back in your chair.

“What?” she smiles, “Okay. Let me rewind. I meant it as, that’s it, as in you’re just going there to do art?”

“I suppose.” you mumbled.

“Okay and what art school did you go to?”

“I didn’t go to college.”

“At all?”

You sigh, “No.”

“Oh. Mmmkay.” she says boredly and shifts her attention to the rest of the table.

“So. Did I tell you guys about the internship I just did? Four whole years of being on the dean’s list too.” she boasted subtly.

More ah’s and proud oh’s we’re back in her attention.

“So, how long is Rachel staying?” Bella asks as you both sat in Jacob’s room. She had your baby in her lap. Jacob walked around a bit.

“She didn’t really tell us. Dad doesn’t want to ask. He’s just happy she’s here.” Coming out, Jacob calls for you to bring him a soda too after you offer to get one for Bella. You cut him off by shutting his door.

Chatters and laughs surround the home as you manoeuvre to the kitchen.

"Oh, my god! That was yours and I drunk out of it!"

"Chill out. I don't have diseases." you hear Paul's voice in response.

You see the sight as Rachel and Paul were holding soda cans. You watch as they traded their cans with jovial chuckles.

Opening the fridge, you pull out three cans.

You were heading back to Jacob's room but Paul encouraged you to join the conversion.

"If I don't give these to Jake and Bella, they'll have a fit." you say to him. He wrapped an arm around your shoulders anyway.

It felt pointless. Memories were brought up and you couldn't relate. They both knew some of the same people that you didn't, even though there was a four year difference. It felt like you couldn't really add anything to the conversation as they talked about how certain people were doing.

You eventually slipped out from his arm as Rachel didn't make an effort to ask anything about you, but you heard all about what she did in college. More like hearing her tell Paul about all what she did in college.

You close Jacob’s door back and hand Bella a can.

"Jesus, you take forever."

"I will shake up your can." you threaten to Jacob and Bella laughs.

The Joy of Painting softly played as your baby lied on their back gripping a toy. Even going as far as putting it in their gummy mouth.

Your hand was occupied with charcoal as you cover your sketchbook sheet.

“Let’s get crazy here.” you hear from the television and a burp makes you look up. Paul sets the empty glass on the coffee table and bends down to carry the baby, kissing their chubby cheeks. The baby smiles and coos as Paul smiled heartily at the baby.

“What a nice greeting.” you say with a grin as you resume your sketch.

Your head moved in response to the kiss that was planted on your temple.

“What am I going to do for two whole weeks?” he says as he sits down next to you.

”Just sneak.” you whisper.

”Sam was pissed when I snuck to LA. Leaving the damn country is another story.” he says somberly.

“Just please? I’ll take care of you.” You say as you caress his knee. Paul seemed deeply conflicted as he looked at your hand. A small smile graced his lips, “I would love that…”

Your face burns as he has something else in mind and he chuckles a bit.

“This isn’t fair.” you say.

“I don’t even know what to promise you.”

“When can you stop phasing?”

“When there’s less threats. When I can have way better control of phasing.”

“You have good control.”

“It looks like I do especially when I’m around you but..Sometimes my wolf just wants to come out. I do want to learn to have better control.”

“Yeah…I want to travel with you. Maybe…We can leave..Together and really just enjoy life for what it's worth.”

“But that would also mean leaving family behind.”

“This is my family.” you gesture to the current setting.

“I know….It just hits different now that me and my dad have somewhat of a good relationship now. The whole main reason of me wanting to leave was so I could get away from him when he wasn't shit.”

“We have some time to think about it.”

“We do.” he smiled.

While Jacob was off on patrol, Bella invited you over. You lounged and let her flip through your sketchbook as Billy held and cooed to your baby.

Rachel came in, said a quick hello to Bella before giving her dad a kiss on the forehead.

"Wow. All I see is Paul in that cute little face." she states with a grin as she looked fondly at the baby. Billy produced a creased smile.

“Let’s hope this one takes Y/N’s calm personality.” He replies with a chuckle.

"Dad, if you could, would you ever have another kid?"

"Oh, no. Your sister and brother already gave me a run for my money." he says.

They share a heartfelt laugh.

It was as if they talked Jacob up, he came and so did Paul.

"Rach, I know that your mother taught you how to make it but can you please make some fry bread?" Billy suggests with a smile.

Both Jacob and Paul's eyes lit up and Rachel laughs a bit, "Fine. Fine."

You follow Paul as he wandered into the kitchen as the treat cooked. Jacob stayed in the living room as Bella snuggled with him on the loveseat. Rachel kept an eye on the fried substance on the stove as she had a hand on her hip.

“You’re too young to be a father, Paul.”

He shrugs, “I love it.”

“You do look good as a dad, not going to lie..But…You’re still young. Young enough to still have fun and play the field a little more.”

He rests an arm on the back of your chair.

She turns from the stove. Giving him a plate.

“Oh my god, this is good. I haven’t had this in years.” Paul says. He offers you a bite as he chews, you politely decline.

“Years?! How are you in La Push and don’t eat this frequently?”

He shrugged.

“Y/N, you gotta make this for me. Please.” he says to you in excitement.

You shrug.

“Y/N, you never made this for Paul?” Rachel speaks up.

“No."

“How come? Your folks really haven’t taught you?”

“I just don’t make it.” you say impatiently.

“I don’t see why not.”

“You don’t have to see.” you replied in a low but sassy tone.

Paul subtly nudged you, “Chill out.” he thought to you. You ignore him. You were irritated.

"Do you cook at all? Paul looks like he can eat you out of house and home. Gotta keep up with that."

"I do. He has many favourite dishes. Is fry bread the only thing you can cook?" you counter.

Rachel only chuckles before talking to Paul again.

“What the hell happened to the water after I left? You boys, you little snot-nosed boys grew up to be these bulky men.” she says as she sits at the table.

“What did you think would happen when you’re gone for a million years? We evolve.” He says to her.

“A million..” she says as she chews, “That’s a new number.” she then looks to you with a dead expression, “You’re not going to try some?”

“Nope.” you say firmly as you lock eyes with her. She was nonchalant as she shrugged a bit.

“Oh, well. More for me and Paul.” she smiles at him. He shook his head a bit as you watch carefully how a soft smile slowly graced his lips.

You blink at the low lit bedroom ceiling as Paul held a bottle for the baby to drink. The small throat bobbed as their eyes slowly come to a close.

“Don’t be mean, Y/N. You're too pretty for that.” he whispered.

“I’m not being mean.” you say, dripping in frustration.

“See?”

You sigh and turn over, “I just don’t fuck with how she acts sometimes.”

“How? She’s was only being nice. You’re the one who rejected what she made. I even think you two could become friends if you just let down your walls.”

“Nice? To who? To you or me? If you don’t know, I’m more than happy to give you the answer.”

"Just give her a chance."

"Play the field a little more?… And then you didn't even say anything." you say as you rolled your eyes.

"She doesn't know about imprinting. She still thinks the legends are just legends and nothing more. The elders doesn’t want her to know that they’re real."

"Why didn't you tell her that we're married?"

"She knows that already, Y/N. She even acknowledged you as my wife whenever we had talked. You have nothing to worry about."

The following day was nice enough to go out, some of the pack who weren’t on patrol were able to come to a park. A binky was snug in your child’s mouth as you and Paul point and show them the ducks that floated in the nearby lake. They stared as the ducks quacked and pieces of bread was thrown by other citizens.

Setting them in their stroller, you push them to a bench and sit down as Paul went with the others to join a ball game that was being thrown. With them being shirtless, eyes were on them as expected.

The wind was soft. You're sat on the bench as you looked about the spacious park in Forks. Your baby gurgled as you smiled at them. You push them back and forth softly as they sat in their stroller.

In the distance, you hear laughing. You look up, Paul with three others. Smiles were on all of their faces. Each gives Paul a hearty hug and you only watch with great curiosity.

You stop watching as his arm is around one of the women, holding what it appears to be a small digital camera. He waves someone from the pack over and it was Jared. Jared jogs over with a look of recognition and it was clear that they knew the women well.

Jealousy was only one word to put how you were feeling. You instead focus on the child in front of you. You didn’t want to hurt your own feelings.

You peak back up after some time, the three women are looking at you. Paul points a bit and then beckons.

You look back down and decide to not look back up.

You lounged in your lounge clothes as your child was sound asleep. Paul who was dressed, explains the interaction at the park in the bedroom you two shared.

“They were friends from way back. Me and Jared knew them since middle school.”

“That’s nice.” you smile genuinely.

“I tried to get your attention so you could meet them. They’re having a little get together. We can go together.” he says eagerly.

“Mmm….I’ll pass to be honest.” you say and his face falls a little but you hurriedly say, “But, you go. I’ll stay back with the baby.”

“We can drop them off at my dad’s. He’s not working tonight.”

“I’m okay.” you say quietly.

“Y/N..When was the last time we have done something fun? With just us two?” He says with a soft smile as he crouched in front of you.

“If I had more energy, I would come. I promise I would. But, I would fall asleep on dance the floor.”

He sighs a bit, "Are you sure? Im not going if you aren't-"

"No, Paul. Its okay. Just go. Have fun. I always have my fun and you barely do since you're always busy. Have fun for the both of us.”

He hesitated before kissing you goodbye.

You stayed up for him as long as you could before slumber claimed you.

He didn’t answer the phone. It was already the afternoon that was rolling into the evening. You add another sent text to the logs of texts you had already sent. He never came home.

You text Jared, wondering if he was there. He didn't go as he told you that he stayed home with Kim. You thank him after he hoped for the best.

“Has Paul called you?”

“Nope.” his father says as he helps you load the baby in your car.

“Damn.” you whisper to yourself.

“Why? Something wrong?”

“No. He just hasn’t returned home last night. He’s probably with one of the guys.”

His father had a short look of concern.

Keeping your mind occupied by tidying up the already clean house, you knew deep down that he wasn’t hurt.

The buzz of your phone made you rush to the phone call but it was unknown. Not trying to miss any chances, you answer.

Listening closely to the automated message, you slowly sit down, thankful that your baby was on the play mat.

Your heart thudded as you answered, “I accept.”

It took some time for the line to connect and when it did, emotions were high.

“Y/N.” he calls. “What. Happened?”

“It’s a lot to say on the phone. I want to tell you in person.”

“Tell me now.”

“Y/N.” He sighed.

“I want to know!” you grit out.

“I just told you, I don’t want to speak it over the phone. You know what? Fuck it. I’ll call my dad.” he says impatiently.

“Are you serious? I’m really coming to get you.” you say as you couldn’t believe his attitude.

“I will tell you. I don’t want to talk on the phone and I will tell you why.”

“Fine.”

Angela agreed to keep an eye on the child, wishing you well that things go okay and to take your time. Embry was gone so she was open to babysitting.

You looked confused after you tell the person the name you are trying to bail out.

“Wait, what?”

“Yeah. He’s already been bailed out.”

“Do you know by who?” you ask slowly.

“Unfortunately, that information is confidential ma'am..I'm sorry.”

“Thanks.” you mutter and walk away.

You scoff at the caller id.

“Now, you want to call.” you say under your breath as you walk to the car. You yank open the car door.

“Hello.” you speak firmly.

“I just wanted to let you know I’m over Jake’s. I didn’t want you to waste a trip.”

“It’s too late. They already told me someone bailed you out…Who was it?”

He took a moment to answer.

“Hello?” you say as you roughly work the steering wheel. You were frustrated.

“It was Rachel.”

“Alright.” you hang up and just toss the phone in the passenger seat.

Angela had the baby in her lap and you stretch your arms out to pick them up.

“Thanks again.” you say.

“No problem.” she says with a soft smile.

She helps you strap the baby in the car.

“Where is Paul?”

“Over Jake’s. Rachel bailed him out.” you mutter.

“Rachel?” she asks. You nod. She had a small look of surprise.

"I'll call you later." you tell her. She nods.

You slowly enter the living room. You didn't see Jacob or Bella. Jared was there and so was Kim. A video game was vivid on the television as Quil and Paul battled it out through the controller, Jared throwing commentary on their gameplay. Kim and Rachel talked as they sat close, it was as if they knew each other for years.

You waited until Paul had finished his smack talking to Quil, due to winning against him.

“Come on..” you say to him as you touch his arm. He didn't move but looked up at you. The baby squirmed in your arms and Paul took them out of your hands. He sits back down on the sofa.

“I don’t really feel like going home right now. Let's just chill here.”

“Paul. I barely slept. Let’s just go home.”

His face is covered in subtle disappointment. You watch carefully as he turns his head to the people in the living room.

“Alright...I gotta go. I’ll see you guys later.” he announced.

“Boooo…See you when you’re allowed to come back outside.” Rachel tells him. Chuckles came out of the mouths that were also in the living room.

He patted her head while walking past as she blinked with a soft grin. He said goodbye to the rest of the guys. The guys said goodbye to you.

At home, your arms were crossed tight as he leaned against the kitchen counter, downing a can of soda.

“So, you called her?”

“No.”

“Then, how did she even know that you were in jail?” you ask in confusion.

“She was there.”

You raise your eyebrows a bit as you took a minute.

“Why was she there?”

“I don’t know. I don’t control where she chooses to go.” He shrugged.

“Out of all places, she’s where you are.”

He shrugged. You roll your eyes.

“You’re mad over nothing. She felt bad, she saw how those cops roughed me up. She came and she bailed me out. Be happy you didn’t have to spend any money.”

“You have some fucking nerve to tell me I’m mad over nothing.”

“I’m not arguing about this, alright?”

“Good. Because, you’re so full of shit, your eyes are brown.” you point in his face.

“I am?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay.”

"Why didn't you want to talk on the phone?"

"The phone calls are recorded."

"What did you even do?"

"Got into a stupid little fight. It was nothing. The guy didn't even press charges but the cops felt I should spend the night in jail." he said.

"Why did you get into a fight?"

He crushed the can and took his time to throw it away. An impatient sigh escaped from your lips before he began to speak.

"Rachel was dancing with me instead of him. Now, before you get all pissy about that, she didn't feel like being bothered with him and felt uncomfortable. He was being forceful so I had to sit him down on his ass when things got out of hand."

You walk away, not wanting to see his face anymore.

It was a shame in your opinion. It felt like you were constantly in competition with this chick. With Paul thinking its no big deal, was adding onto your frustrations.

Spring was trying to make its debut but the Washington weather was being stubborn. People were happy that the wind didn’t make their teeth chatter on this particular day, so a bonfire happened at the beach.

Billy Black called the attention of everyone and the music was turned down.

"As you all know, my little girl has finally visited her old man for once."

Rachel only laughed a bit as happy responses circled around.

"She gave me the most amazing news. She's going to live here for some time. She misses home. She even told me she's going to work from home and put her degree to great use!"

Happiness burst through the people around you. You were also happy at the fact that Billy was able to at least have two out of the three of his children with him.

The music really cranked up and happiness was more visible.

Food was being eaten.

As you were throwing your plate away, you heard Rachel and Kim speaking. Both backs were turned to you as they looked over the food, trying to see what they wanted. They didn't pick up on your presence.

"Who made this?"

"Y/N, I think. It smells pretty good.” Kim answers.

"No. That looks gross."

"Rachel." Kim says to her, trying to stifle her laughter but Rachel wasn't having it as she shook her head with a grimace.

Walking away, you pushed the interaction that you witnessed, deep down.

Leah came into your view and took your hands with a grin.

''Let's walk by the waves." she says persuasively.

You smile, happy for the distraction.

"Do you think Im overreacting?" you ask Leah as you pass the joint to her.

"I don't. But, she was at the party and I can see why she felt bad enough to bail him out."

"It's not just that. It's the slick remarks. It feels like Im in a "who could make Paul smile faster" competition."

"Rachel just has a deadpanned sense of humor. She knows how to make friends with everyone so that’s why she’s also extroverted but if you feel that way, Im sure Paul will understand."

"He thinks Im giving her a hard time, being mean."

Leah chuckled a bit, "At the end of the day, you're who he decided to marry. You're the one who won in the end."

You two change conversation and walk back as the joint turned into a roach. Leah throws it into the ocean as you two were buzzed.

Laughing, you both made plans to dance, even singing some of the lyrics of the song as you two got closer.

Leah pulls you to a dessert lineup. As she eats and helps herself, you turn your head. You freeze as you watch the sight.

Two people were dancing as if they owned the night. The way that they moved, was like they choreographed it. Rachel and Paul were good dancers, they were really good as they danced together. Laughs and smiles graced their lips. It felt like you were in the shadows.

Squaring your shoulders, you pretend like it didn't bother you. Paul felt the subtle uncomforted feeling in your soul. He tried to talk to you alone but you would duck him. You would avoid him through the rest of the time.

As soon as you two got home, you went straight to your drawer, pulling out folded pants. Paul watched a bit before he asked an important question.

“What are you doing?”

“I decided I’m leaving early.” you say quietly as you reach underneath the bed to slide out your suitcase.

"Y/N."

You don't answer.

"Are you fucking serious?" he boldly asks you and you continue to not say anything as you then go into the bathroom to collect your hygiene products.

He sighs tiredly, throwing his arms up a bit.

“You know what? Do what you want.” he says, “So fucking childish, it’s unreal.”

You scoff and roll your eyes.

“Childish…But, but, you were just crying not too long ago because of some guy I interacted with on a business level. That’s childish.”

You go pack the diaper bag and start to take things that your child would need while you were away.

“No. Keep them here. I’ll drop them off at my dad's whenever I have to leave.”

You don’t listen.

“Y/N. I said no.” he says firmly. You hated it. It was the tone that ordered you to stop. Tears well up, you had no choice but to listen because of the mark. You shove the bag down on the changing table.

The baby was oblivious to what was happening. Happy babbles come out their mouth as they look to you and Paul from their crib.

“We need a break from each other. We’re clearly stepping on each other’s toes.” you choke out quietly.

“You want a break.” he corrected, “And that’s fine. Just say it."

You walk out and he follows you as you walked in the hallway. You go into the bedroom.

"I’m sick and tired of arguing over stupid ass shit."

“You’re putting it all on me, when it’s you too. Don’t act like you don’t start shit.” You say.

“I at least finish shit. You like to run for the hills every single time shit gets tough. Like a coward. Since the beginning. It's like you want an excuse to leave this relationship. I shouldn't have to feel like I'm begging to be with you. You didn't even know what you wanted then and you don't even know what you want now.”

“Don’t get me started.” you warn.

“What? It’s true. Tell me, when was the last time we had sex? Not in a while. Especially since Rachel came….You’re leaving early all for nothing. You put up a hissy fit when I question you about the guys who actually get on you. But it’s okay to accuse me? You're fucking mad over some dancing? I didn't even have my hands on her!”

“It’s not the same and you know it. No guy has ever got on me because I don’t give them the room to. Every time I'm out and about with you, a girl tries to sneak in her number, or pretend that I don't even exist, and I'm tired of it all. You're out there dancing with that chick and it was like you two were in the relationship. Not us. I bet it felt so nice to let your hair down.” you hiss.

You leave out of the room, you grab your jacket. You put it on, you stuck your hands in your pocket, not feeling your lighter. Your hands come out.

Paul bends down holding up something when he enters where you are. His sharp eye examined it as he asks in a hard and careful tone, “What is this?”

Paul knew. He’s been around people who weren't shy about their certain activities. He wanted you to say it out of your mouth as he held the small pill in his fingers.

You honestly forgot you had it. A large hand was firm on the nape of your neck. He puts the pill in his fingers, close to your face.

“What. Is. This?”

“I wasn’t going to take it. I forgot it was in my pocket.” you softly defend.

“That’s not what I asked. I asked what was it. Not if you were going to take it.”

One press, it was like fine, grind powder in his hands. He narrowed his eyes at you, his eyes were dark as his face is closer. It made you look away, baring your neck a bit in submission.

“So, it really is drugs. So, what…You’re a junky now?” his voice made a chill lick down your spine. You felt like you were in deep trouble.

“Fuck off.” you whisper.

“That’s why you’re all over the place. You really need to get your shit together.”

You look up to him as he stared down at you. Disapproval wasn’t even the primary word that could describe the look on his face.

“Do you fucking smell that shit in me? No. You don’t. Maybe you should take it….It will help you focus more on the fact that you’re too stupid to even notice when someone clearly wants you to entertain them. It’s like the lights are on and nobody’s home.”

You move around him throw the last bit of essentials in your suitcase.

"I just can't with this anymore. At least not right now. The fighting, the girls, the unsureness of it all... I want peace, not whatever...This is...I'll let you and Rachel have whatever you two got going on. I feel like I'm an intruder in my own marriage. So, I'll leave and focus on the work I have to do. You two can do whatever the fuck you want. Go ahead and fuck her for all I care." you emotionally say and you mean it. You were tired of this setting and you felt trapped. Suffocated. You were emotionally detached and his wolf felt it. It frightened both the man and wolf to know that your mind was set.

You just wanted to submerse yourself into something that made you happy without a fail. Your work had never let you down. Paul’s shoulders subtly slumped. You didn’t notice.

“Paranoid as hell.”

“Sure.” you chuckle dryly with a shrug.

You zip the suitcase shut.

“I’ll see you in two weeks.” you whisper in an eerily calm tone.

“Whatever.” he says bitterly and turns, walking off as you could’ve sworn you saw light steam rise from his body.

Wrinkled hands cradled your face and a kiss on each cheek was pressed as the big fashion designer was pleased to see you. Especially a few days earlier than when you were supposed to come.

A second villa that he owned, was extended to you for you to stay in for your duration. He was that happy to have you apart of this project and even more happy that you joined him early. In his actual home, he drank a glass of wine as you drew up and showed him rough drafts of the ideas that spilled out of his mouth.

Calm and melodic conversation was held and for a moment, your problems back home seemed to cease as your mind wasn't focused on that. It was focused on how you could make people's jaws drop with colors and designs.

After filling your stomach tight with Italian cuisine, you both then fight over who's going to pay the bill.

He wins and you let him know your disapproval as he laughs while the waitress processed his payment.

The night surrounded you as you pull out the set of keys.

Your footsteps were quiet as you slowly pushed the front door open with a groaning squeak. It was open but without force. You immediately look at the camera that aimed at the front entry.

Not seeing anything around you, you move further. Nothing was behind the front door as you were in the front part of the villa. The window was open.

You pull out your phone but it flies out of your hands and across the room.

It was fast. You gasp as you’re lying on the ground. Shaking. A knee was pressed hard on your chest as a cold sharp blade was pressed just under your chin. One hand tightly holds both wrists above your head. A nasty expression was on the person’s face.

“You scream. I cut you.” they speak carefully but lowly.

You nod eagerly as your breaths are rapid. Nothing was said for a while.

“I-I have money.” you whisper.

“Of course you do, living like this…” he states, “Where?” he asks firmly.

“I-in m-my bag but…I d-don’t have cash though.” you whisper with your eyes squeezed shut and they didn’t like the sound of that.

“What the fuck am I gonna to do with that? Huh?” he says and press the blade further. It doesn’t break the skin yet. You pant in fear and try to control your breathing.

“You got jewelry?” he asks.

“Y-Yes.” you say. You saw another figure enter right behind this scary person’s body, moving so predatorily slow. Their dark eyes were so intense and menacing.

"Give me the ring." they demand to you as they look at your hands.

Your heart pounded as you blinked rapidly.

“Please, don’t kill me…” you whisper to keep the person hovering over you, occupied.

“Shut up. Don’t say another fucking word.”

“S-sorry.” you whisper.

He scrunched his face, the blade was now pressed on your face. Your breath hitched.

“You keep talking, I really should disfigure-“

His body was knocked off of you, the blade clattered as you saw that he was now lying on his back with a knee on his chest. He tried his best to push the strong knee off of his chest but he started to feel the effects of the knee pressing down.

He gasped out that he couldn’t breathe and you heard a loud pop. You hear a gurgle come out of his mouth. Panting out, tears were thick in your eyes as you pulled on your rescuer’s shirt. He didn’t budge as his eyes were dissociated with rage.

“Y-you’re going to k-kill him.” you choke out.

He wasn’t listening until you forcefully shout his name and that’s when he listened. He rose slowly to a stand as you were still on the ground but propped up with your elbow.

He pulled you up easily to your feet, furrowing his eyebrows. It was as if he wanted to say something but went against it. A soft caress of your cheek was made from his cool touch. You were too stunned to move or speak. He turns from you and walks to the body that was on the floor of the villa.

You focus on breathing normal again but it was hard. The intruder wasn’t moving. You stare at the intruder, hoping that his chest would move to let you know that he’s breathing.

The last thing you needed was a murder charge. You could kiss everything goodbye.

“I-Is he dead?” you whisper out. A shake of his head let you know that the person who meant to harm you, was only passed out. The intruder would just wake up to excruciating pain.

Using his foot to turn the body over onto their stomach, Edward gripped the back of his shirt to lift him as if he was a sack of potato’s. The same arm that was ripped clean off from his fight from Paul, was attached and normal as if a fight never happened. You stare as it operated without fail. Still containing full strength.

You follow him as he carried the intruder out to the back door.

He was moving fast.

“Wait…Wait!” you call out.

He continued walking without looking back. The slide door clicked closed behind him and the guy he carried out like a rag doll. One blink, they both were gone. Your hand gripped the doorframe before you went back into the kitchen.

Glasses of water was chugged as your mouth felt dry. Drops of water spilled off of the sides of your mouth, onto your shirt and the edge of the sink as your hands still shook a bit.

There was no way you could go to sleep.

The room where it happened, the blade was still there. You slowly bend to pick it up and inspect it. You inspect the very thing that would wipe you away from this world.

The buzz of the phone scared you and you jumped and dropped the blade with a clatter. You shakily pick up the vibrating phone.

“H-hi.” you speak.

“What’s going on? Are you okay?” Paul rasped out.

“I’m fine..I’m fine..” you whisper as you keep the heel of your hand to your eye. Your heart was still racing in your ears.

He heard a sniffle through the other line. You couldn’t hold it together. Your breathing was shaky and heavy as you continued to try to silently wipe the tears that streamed down your face.

“What’s wrong?” He sounded pained.

“I got scared...I thought it was real..I thought I was going to die…I’m still shaking.” you hiccuped.

“It’s just a dream, right?…” he whispered tiredly.

“Can-Can you stay on the phone with me?”

“Yeah.”

Paul stayed on the phone until the morning, when he had to leave for patrol. You both didn’t say much. You both chose silence, listening to each other breathing and both parties were fine with that. He told you he would call you back when he comes back.

The sunlight didn’t make things less scary. The daylight only showed why you were targeted as the opulent villa decor surrounded you.

You felt like a little kid who snuck and watched an R-rated scary movie. Moving the bathroom door quickly to check behind it. Staring behind yourself in the mirror as you brushed your teeth. Scared to close your eyes to wash your face, to the point the cleanser almost got into your eyes.

You agreed to lunch with the big fashion house creative director with their acquaintances.

You sip and grimace at the alcohol that touched your lips. Something you started to do often. It numbed the pain that was ignited in your chest. It helped. If you wanted to commit to being an alcoholic.

“So, there’s that St. Marcus festival in Volterra.” they start off the conversation with a cheek full of food.

“Oh my god. That ridiculous holiday.” a woman with a thick Italian accent laughs with a glass of white wine.

“It’s ridiculous but you can’t go wrong with free entertainment.” one points out.

“Ugh, they wear those tacky red cloaks. It’s ridiculous.” one person pipes in.

“And then don’t forget the stupid stunts that are obviously fake when the clock strikes noon. I’m only going to find a naive tourist to make my bed warm.” the woman says. They all laugh heartily.

“Y/N? Are you coming?”

“Uh…I don’t know.” you answer, keeping an eye on your plate.

“Come on, it’s happening on a weekend. You can’t even blame work.” one says.

“Sure…Why not.” you say dryly and tilted the glass to bring the last bit of liquid to your mouth. They’re pleased as they fall into other conversation.

You just didn’t want to be alone.

The festival was indeed a bit ridiculous and crowded but the people in Volterra really enjoyed it and went hard for it. A lot of people did wear the red cloaks.

Walking around, letting yourself get lost, with the faded cinnamon brown buildings that darkened the street with their shade.

A wide, square fountain set into the center of the plaza, was where you idled. A deep, booming chime echoed through the square, the stones underneath your feet has throbbed. The sounds of children covering their ears and crying to the loud noise, was muffled.

The Palazzo de Priori starts to chime again loudly.

You saw a girl giggling, gesturing towards the shadows in the alleyway impatiently, as she tugged at her mother.

Curious, you look since the mother was too busy with a smaller child who had their hands clamped over their ears.

You saw a faint shimmer. Turning your head, you look to see what it is. You blink as you squint a bit. You gasp. Legs slowly walk forward from out of the shadows of the alleyway, hands pull open his buttoned shirt.

Just a few feet from the mouth of the alleyway, you saw a figure whose eyes were closed with deep purple rings underneath them. His arms were relaxed at his sides, palms turned forward. Oddly, his expression was peaceful as if he was dreaming something pleasant.

Shirt wide open, the marble skin of his chest was bare. The lobby reflection from the pavement of the square gleamed dimly from his skin.

You slowly stand up from your sitting position on the stone fountain with a deep wave of confusion. A large stride toward the light made you speed walk faster. You call his name in confusion and he only smiled very slightly in response. He raised his foot to take a step that would put him directly in the path of the sun.

Making your way closer, you flung yourself on him. You don’t know why you did it. The only thought was you remembering the main reason why they couldn’t be in the sun. He then walked backwards slowly. Arms were wrapped around you tight as you stare at him, trying to understand.

His dark hooded eyes find yours and he freezes his movements as the clock rolled again. His shirt was almost fallen from his shoulders. It was as if he saw a ghost. As if he couldn’t believe that you were really in front of him. His hands blindly felt your face as he whispered in a rasp that was full of warmth, “Beautiful, angel.”

“Edward….Edward.” you whispered, “What are you doing?”

“Carlisle was right.” He whispered with a smile. His large hands touched your cheeks, your nose, and finally, your lips as if it was a rare gem.

“E-Edward….I thought you couldn’t show your skin in the sunlight. People will see…People will know. You have to move.” You stammer out. He only lifts you against him in his arms as your hands are on his shoulders.

“My execution was quick….They’re good…If this is hell..I’ll take it.” he murmured with a peaceful sigh.

Your heart pounded, “You’re not dead. What are you talking about?”

It was as if he snapped back into reality. Instead of you protecting him from the people, he went back into the deep shadows and trapped you against the stone wall with his arms spread wide, protectively in front of you. Your feet is back on the ground. His eyes closed a bit as you both were in the shadows. He blinked them open.

“You really shouldn’t be here.” he finally whispered firmly with widened eyes.

“Why?” you whispered back, “What the hell were you trying to do?”

“Y/N. Leave.” he says softly but in desperation.

“Why do you look like that?…I know that you’re dead but…You look dead. More dead than I remember.”

You furrow your eyebrows to look at his fragile state. Alice rushed in and tugged on your arm from Edward’s grasp but you hear a small but reedy voice, “It’s rude to stop past without saying hello.”

It makes them both freeze and they give each other a glance.

“We were just leaving, Jane. Tell your masters, services aren’t needed.” Edward says.

“That’s a bummer. I’m sure Aro would be displeased at the fact that the Cullens brought a guest and he didn’t get to meet them.” the small girl says.

“Silly human from the festival didn’t know where she was going…” Alice says.

“My eyes prove otherwise that she knew right where to go.” she says she with a straight face, “We shouldn’t keep Aro waiting.” Her red eyes were bold.

With a turn, she walks.

Alice sighs a bit as she looked at you with cautious eyes.

“Just stay close to me, Y/N. Don’t say anything-“

“Alice.” Edward growled.

“Edward, I can’t see the outcome well. I’m going off of pure instincts right now.”

“Why isn’t anyone moving yet?” the wide eyed face asks.

Edward held your arm as you both walked. As you all walked further, his arm found your waist.

Conversationally, he speaks to his sister, “Well, Alice, I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised to see you here.”

“Seeing Y/N here is the biggest surprise.” she speaks back in the same tone.

“Hm.” he said curtly.

You all stopped at a drain in the street that sunk into the lowest point of the paving. The grate was halfway pushed aside and the hole was small and black.

Alice slid down the open hole with easy grace.

You must’ve taken too long because Alice says, “I can catch you, Y/N.”

You take breath as you swung your legs into the narrow gap.

Through the tunnel, the pace was hurried. At the end was a grate with iron bars that were rusting.

The long hallway was walked until you all stopped at an elevator.

Stepping in, you anticipate what was to come as you all were going down.

You felt a hand rubbing against your arm, only looking to see Edward who wasn’t taking his eyes off of Jane.

The short elevator ride was done as you all walked through the posh office reception area. There were no windows and brightly lit paintings of the Tuscan countryside hung everywhere as replacements.

A plain wooden door that wasn’t locked, was held open.

“Thanks, Alec.” Jane says to him, he gives a quick nod.

There were no artificial lights. The natural sunlight beamed from the impressive infrastructure. Massive wooden chairs, like thrones, were the only furniture in the room. The room wasn’t empty.

A handful of people were in a relaxed conversation. A murmur of low, smooth voices was a gentle hum in the air. Exquisite faces turned toward the direction you all entered from.

A man wore a long robe. Pitch black and it brushed against the floor. His long, jet-black hair looked like the hood of his cloak.

“Jane, dear one, you’ve came back without an empty hand.” he said in evident delight.

He drifted forward and his movement flowed with such surreal grace, it seemed unreal.

His face showed his skin that was translucency white with red eyes that was clouded and milky.

“Yes, Master.” Jane smiled like an angelic child.

He smiled too as he turned his misty eyes towards you and the others and became ecstatic.

“This is a happy surprise! Wonderful!” he rejoiced.

He turned to the hulking man who stood tall, “Felix, tell my brothers about our company. They wouldn’t want to miss this.”

“Yes, Master.” Felix nodded and disappeared out of the way you all had come.

“You see, Edward? What did I tell you? Aren’t you glad that I didn’t give you what you wanted yesterday?”

Edward swallowed before he says quietly as he tightened an arm around you, “I am.”

He turned to Alice with a happy sigh, “Alice..We haven’t been introduced properly. It’s just that I feel like I know you already and tend to get ahead of myself. Your brother introduced us yesterday in a peculiar way. I share some of your brother’s talent, only I am limited in a way that he is not.” he says with his tone, envious.

She gives him a polite but dazzling smile. You look closely to see her small fists bawled at her sides.

Edward looked at Alice as he swiftly explained, “Aro needs physical contact to hear your thoughts, but he heard much more than I do. I can only hear what’s passing through your head in the moment. Aro hears every thought your mind has ever had.”

Alice raised her delicate eyebrows and Edward inclined his head. It was like a secret conversation.

“But to be able to hear from a distance…That would be so convenient.” Aro sighed as he gestured toward the two of them.

Both black robed men floated in the room. Both looking like Aro with one having the same flowing black hair. The other had a head of snow white hair. Their faces had identical, paper thin skin.

Your head tilted a bit, you felt like you were in a museum. The trio from Carlisle’s painting was complete and unchanged by the last three hundred years since it was painted.

“Marcus, Caius, look! Isn’t it wonderful?” Aro crooned.

Neither of the two looked as if wonderful would be their first choice of words.

The dark haired man seemed utterly bored as if it was a permanent expression. The other’s face was sour under the snowy hair.

Even though their enthusiasm was lacking, it didn’t curb Aro’s enthusiasm.

The white haired ancient vampire glided toward one of the wooden thrones. The other paused beside Aro and he reached his hand out and touched Aro’s palm briefly. Aro raised one black brow.

“Thank you, Marcus. That’s quite interesting.” Aro said.

Two of the women in the room stood next to the seats of the vampires in the thrones.

Alice’s expression was frustrated and Edward turned to her and explained in a swift, low voice, “Marcus sees relationships.”

“So convenient.” Aro repeated, “It takes quite a bit to surprise Marcus, I can assure you.”

“It’s just so difficult to understand, even now.” Aro mused, staring at Edward who had his arm around your shoulders, “A human, Edward, that you can’t even enjoy..What a waste!”

“I look at it more as a price.” Edward answered calmly.

Aro says, “A very high price.”

“Opportunity cost.” Edward speaks back.

Aro laughs a bit, “Ah, how I miss my friend Carlisle! You remind me of him. Only he was not so angry.

“Carlisle outshines me in many other ways.”

“Self control of all things is something I certainly never thought to see Carlisle be bested for. You put him to shame.”

“Hardly.” Edward says impatiently.

“I am so curious about one thing in particular. May I?” he asked eagerly, lifting one hand. He eyes you with bright interest.

“Ask her.” Edward said flatly.

“Y/N….I was wondering if you would be so kind as to allow me to try to see if you are an exception to my gift?” he speaks directly to you.

Looking around the room, crimson eyes stared at you as the room was still and silent. You were in the spotlight.

“U-uh…Um…” you stammer in deep nervousness and look at Edward sheepishly.

Edward’s eyes softened. You two stared at each other for a moment and he clutched you tighter.

An ancient voice with a rasp breaks the silence.

“Star crossed…The human isn’t completely devoted to Edward…I can’t say the same for Edward..It can be changed to not end so tragic…The human needs an encouraging push.”

A push? You were confused. Deeply.

“A vampire devoted to a human. Is that right, Marcus?” Aro speaks in an incredulous manner.

“Seems to be.”

“Interesting…” a woman speaks at Aro’s side. She kept her rose colored eyes on you. They sparkled with something dangerous.

You look down and focus on breathing.

“If you’re worried about her not keeping our kind a secret, she will keep it. She’s very familiar with the supernatural. I didn’t even have to tell her what I was. She figured it out all on her own.” Edward defends.

“Has she? I would really like to see.” Aro says with an impressed smile.

Edward had resistance but Alice was the one who stepped forward. Aro held her hand and hummed in contentment. It was as if he was watching a movie in his head.

Aro only gives Alice a bright smile but he wasn’t satisfied, “Alice, I’ll see it from Y/N.”

You slowly step forward and Edward keeps a grip on you. You look back at him. His eyes were silently pleading.

Pulling your hand out of his tight grasp, he looked desperate as he watched you meet Aro’s excited eyes.

“I won’t tell anyone..I have my own secret…I have an option to be able to live an immortal life as well. Exposing you, would only also expose me.” you promise carefully to the mature vampire who was waiting for your hand. He drunk in every word.

Your mark however was covered with makeup and you just weren’t sure if their sharp eyes would be able to see it.

“You’re not one of us…..” he says softly, keeping a cool hand to your cheek, you blink. “You’re warm, dear. You’re a human with rich blood flowing through your veins…But, yet…I cannot smell it for the everlasting life of me.”

You look down as his hand takes yours. He held it and you didn't know what to expect.

It didn’t take him as long as the others, he laughs a light laugh and you hold your breath.

“You’re right. There shouldn’t be a problem, then…Such a talented one.” Aro says as he stared at you with a slow smile. You blink.

“I’m afraid I haven’t seen such talent since Solimena. I must say that you surpass him greatly. So greatly, I say you put him to great shame. All I see is the wonderful, colors swirling and originating in that wonderful brain of yours.” He says in awe, “No wonder Edward has such a taken to you…Quite magnificent…A human who doesn’t even make me thirsty.”

He calmly called Jane’s name once with a tilt of his head as he continued to look at you and before you knew it, before you could blink, Edward had lifted you to place you behind him as he used his body to hide your frame. He hid your body from their view.

“No.” Edward said in a tone that raised goosebumps.

Jane smiled, “Yes, master?”

Edward ripped a low snarl as he glared at Aro.

“I was wondering, my dear one, if Y/N will have a reaction to you.” Aro says.

As Edward made his way to launch at the girl, Alice screeched a “Edward, don’t !”

But it was too late.

He gasped and withered in pain as you watched wide eyed at the sight of him. He was shaking as he slowly went to his knees, you couldn’t bear to see. Nobody was touching him but his pain was evident as he was on the stone floor writhing in agony. No sound escaped from his lips.

“What’s happening?“ You ask out in horror.

He cringed against the stone floor.

“Shit..This is bad. This is really bad.” You whisper to his anguished face. You then kneel, as you hold the back of his head. He’s in pain from protecting you. He still continued to shudder in pain as his body locked, “Stop! He didn’t even do anything!” You beg the standing figures.

“Jane.” Aro called in a tranquil voice.

She looked up quickly with questioning eyes but with a pleasurable smile. Edward was still and his pain ceased. You breathe out very softly in relief.

Aro inclined his head toward you.

You suddenly crumble into a fall and lay next to Edward in a gasp, your jaw clenched. The pain choked you. You felt it from the crown of your head to the balls of your feet. Your mouth was silent as the pain took your breath away.

You didn’t want to be in pain. You squeezed your eyes shut and curled into a ball. The pain was still there but lessened as you pant lightly with tense limbs.

You felt yourself be lifted into the arms that belonged to Edward. His lips were on the shell of your ear, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I’m so selfish.”

“Jane.” you hear a voice be called. You didn’t feel anything anymore. You’re able to stand on your feet.

“I’m sorry. I should’ve listened.” You whisper to Edward and you look to the standing figures watching you both. You then rest your forehead to his chest as you felt his hand on your back.

Aro chortled a bit, “Both of you. Very brave to endure such pain in silence..” He says in admiration.

Edward glared at him with disgust.

“So what do we do with you, now?” Aro sighed.

It was strange. You then felt a shift. It felt like a flutter of pressure that brushed against you. It almost made you lightheaded. It was as if something almost knocked you off of your feet if it weren’t for Edward holding you.

Not knowing what was happening, you leaned and clutched even closer to Edward. It was like it was the right thing to do. The perfect thing to do.

Edward speaks out in a panicked voice, which made you both worried and confused, “Chelsea, she’s married to someone else.”

The woman was smug.

“Aro. You have to do something.” Edward speaks out.

Aro only sighs lightly without effort after briefly touching Chelsea’s palm, “There isn’t much I can do.”

Edward made a distasteful noise.

“Walls shouldn’t be held up. Loyalty is very important and the feeling of certainty should be strong. Plus, things will be more secure this way.” Chelsea says smugly. She was proud of something.

“But, not like this.” Edward shook his head.

“Not like what?” you ask.

“Did Marcus’s words go unnoticed? One small push shouldn’t harm anyone. Edward, you even saved Y/N’s life, yes?” Aro speaks up.

Edward nodded woodenly.

"I picked up on how badly you wanted to kill…How badly you wanted to hurt the person who wanted to harm Y/N…You almost sacrificed your diet for hurting her.. Y/N, then saved you from our execution. From exposing our secret. You two have spent some time together in the past, yes. I saw for myself from Alice that marriage was even a possibility for you two. Both willing to protect each other….I think it’s quite nice." Aro speaks out.

Marriage?

“What does this mean? What does he mean, Edward?” you ask rapidly.

Edward swallows before speaking in a tone of defeat, “Chelsea can manipulate relationships.”

Your stomach dropped. Abruptly coming out of Edward’s arms, you step back from him and his apologetic eyes.

You plead with your eyes at Chelsea.

“B-but wait! I can’t be loyal to Edward! I-I-I can’t! I’m devoted to someone else. Reverse it…Change it back…Do something.” you choke out.

“Y/N, do you think you would still be here right now, if Edward hadn’t come at the right time?” Aro asks.

You look at Edward tearfully, who was looking down.

“No…” you say in a small voice as you look at him, “I’m…Thankful that he did…I was so scared…”

“See? Now, what’s the matter, Edward?” Aro asks, “Yesterday, you wished to put an end to your life due to your heartbreak. Look how Y/N is here, who can now can heal such heartbreak. She’s not just an average human either! A pick, indeed.”

“Seems to me, a bond has already been formed…Someone who didn’t care for another, wouldn’t have protect like either of you did.” Marcus rasps with certainty.

“No.” You whimpered above a whisper.

“I love happy endings. They’re quite rare.” Aro says enthused.

A single tear fell, “I have a baby at home…I can’t just abandon them.”

“No one is asking you to abandon them, dear…We’re not suggesting that at all…” Aro reassured.

“I only helped enforced what was there in the first place. This relationship was quite easy to fix. I didn’t have to work hard at all.” Chelsea says.

Your heart pounded in your ears as your mouth went dry. You felt faint.

“I don’t suppose there’s any chance that you’ve changed your mind, Edward? Your talent would be an excellent addition to our little company.” Aro asks Edward.

“I’d…Rather not.” Edward weighed.

“Alice?” Aro asks hopeful.

“No, thank you.” Alice said.

Aro raised his eyebrows, “And you, Y/N?”

You felt sick.

Edward hissed as the white haired Caius broke the silence, “What?” he demanded of Aro.

“Caius, surely you see the potential. Such promising and prospective talent. Can you imagine the possibilities if she were to become one of us?” Aro chided him affectionately, he stepped forward facing you, “What do you say, Y/N.”

If Alice and Edward turned it down, you would too.

“No, thank you.” You said with a shaken voice.

Aro sighed with disappointment, “That’s unfortunate. Such a waste.”

“Are we done, here? Are we free to leave now?” Edward asks in an even voice.

“Yes…But please visit again. It’s been absolutely enthralling!” Aro answered pleasantly.

“We shall visit you, in the near future.” Caius says. Edward nods once with his jaw tight.

“Heidi will be here any moment. Patience ,” you see Aro speak to the vampire who groaned, Felix. He then spoke to you three again, “Please wait below after dark.”

“Of course.” Edward agreed, “Let’s go.” He then says urgently to you.

“Goodbye, young friends.” Aro said with his eyes bright.

Demetri, another guard, guided you all to the exit.

“Not fast enough.” Alice muttered as you all walked in the cold hallway.

Edward pulled you swiftly along beside him and Alice was by your other side, her face was hard and focused.

You then heard voices as you all walked the long hallway.

They all praised the infrastructure and the mystery of what is to come. A crowd was coming through the little door. With Demetri’s gesture for you three to make room, you all press back against the wall as they passed.

“Welcome guests! Welcome to Volterra!” Aro’s voice was heard from the turret.

It had to be at least forty people. But, you will never forget the woman who had a rosary around her neck. She gripped the cross tightly in one hand, walking slow as she asked questions in a language no one seemed to understand. Her voice grew panicked.

A woman who was behind them, guiding them into the room, was breathtakingly beautiful.

“Welcome home, Heidi.” Demetri greeted with a smile.

She smiled absently. She walked before stopping and flashing him a smile.

“Aren’t you coming?” She asked him.

“In a minute. Save a few for me, if you don’t mind.” Demetri answered. She nodded, gave you a curious look before ducking through the door.

You had to run to keep up as your hand was gripped tightly in Edward’s, you still heard the horrid screaming that followed. You were just happy to be the one to be able to run from the horror.

You all were led by Demetri to the reception. The harmless music was bouncing out of the hidden speakers. A woman behind the reception desk was a human.

“Don’t leave until after dark.” Demetri reminded.

Edward nods and Demetri hurries away. You guessed to get to his dinner.

With wobbly legs, you flop down in one of the chairs. You didn’t say anything. You pull your hand out of Edward’s and keep your hands to your eyes. A shake of your body allowed silent sobs.

All you could think about those people. How they must’ve been so scared. Staring at death right in the eye and they couldn’t do a thing.

You heard the low hisses of Edward and Alice’s conversation. They spoke so fast and low that you couldn’t keep up.

“Edward. Hunt.” Alice ordered. You all were in the living room of the villa. The window showed the night sky. Your shoulders were slumped as you slouched on the sofa, staring at your hands in your lap.

You were at a loss.

He looked pained. His shirt was back buttoned.

“Is that why you look like that?” You ask him quietly.

He looked at you with a nod.

“She’s right, then. You should eat….You look physically weak.” You tell him barely in a whisper.

“I’m okay.” He murmured.

“You’re not. I know you’re not.” You say as he looked casket ready.

“We need to talk.”

“We’ll talk.” You nod.

“….Can..I take you to dinner when I get back?”

“Umm…” you say timidly and you look at him, “S-sure. But, it’s not a date.”

He nods with hopeful optimism. He then takes the initiative to leave.

Alice couldn’t begin to start a statement.

“I’m sorry…If only your future came to me more clearer…” she says sadly.

You stand on wobbly knees.

“It’s….Alright.” you say in a daze. You felt a type of way, you were starting to feel the intense weight of Edward’s absence.

You sit on the closed lid toilet in the bathroom with the door closed. The phone trilled as you held it to your ear. No answer.

You try again.

“Hello?”

“H-hey.”

Nothing was said before you speak again.

“What…What are you doing?”

“Came back from my dad’s from seeing my child.”

Emphasis on the “my”.

“Paul, don’t be like that.” You whisper. Listening ears were in the other direction and you wanted the conversation to be smooth.

“Like what? I’m telling you what I did.”

“Yeah, but…Never mind…I miss you both.”

“I don’t get how you do. You didn’t even have to leave home early..”

Tears well up in your eyes with subtle frustration, “Well, I do…”

“I feel…A disconnect Y/N…Your heart is veering off somewhere…How much fun are you having? You met someone..Didn’t you?”

His voice was rough and prickly hard.

“Paul, not this again… I’m here to work. I’m not looking for anyone else-”

“Did. You. Meet. Someone?”

“No! See? Here you go, but I can’t say anything about Rachel? I’m paranoid when I bring her up?”

Adrenaline was up, you didn’t care anymore.

“Rachel isn’t a valid concern…I don’t know if I can trust you, Y/N. It seems like you leave and shit just…Always falls apart. It felt like I was being stabbed all over, earlier. What the fuck were you even doing?”

“I won’t let us fall apart.” You whisper in a broken voice, “You can trust me. It’s like I can’t trust you and you won’t even see where I’m coming from. You dismiss it. My concerns should be valid. Yours is but mine isn’t?”

“You think every girl is out to get me. That’s not trust.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. I don’t know every girl in the world.” You try to joke to lighten things up but the tense moment was still heavy. He didn’t bite.

He tells you he has to go. You both hang up with each other.

As you walked the streets next to Edward with arms tightly crossed, your phone buzzed in your pocket.

Texts from the people you went to the festival with, were making sure that you were okay, was thrown in your direction. You forgot that you even came with them. They didn’t know what lurked below the streets.

“Im okay. Im having dinner now. We will talk tomorrow :) ”

You press send and lay the phone face down on the cloth covered table.

“What drinks can I get you both?”

“Um…Vesper for me.” you whisper to the waiter. He asks Edward again for his choice in drink.

“Water.” he only answers as he stared at you. His eyes weren’t dark. He looked back to normal with liquid golden irises.

As soon as the waiter leaves off, you couldn’t help but put both folded arms on the table.

“Did you try to….What were you even trying to do?”

“…Remember when I showed you Carlisle’s painting?”

You nod, "The patriots of the arts."

He nods, you felt a surge of happiness from him that you remember. It felt warm and fuzzy as goosebumps raised on your body.

“They would’ve had a hand in easing my pain.”

You let out a breath as you try to collect yourself. Your heart dropped.

“W-why? Why would you do something like that?” you whisper.

“The reason is quite pathetic, I’m afraid.” he shakes his head a bit with a sheepish expression.

“Still, tell me. Aro mentioned heartbreak.”

The waiter sets down your drinks and you tell them you need more time with the menu. They agree to come back. Edward’s eyes flicker to the glass that was about to reach your lips.

“You drink now?”

“Edward.” you hiss quietly at him trying to change the subject.

He takes in a breath through his nose, you patiently wait until he speaks again.

“I never thought I would see you again….You hate me.” he says sadly.

“I don’t hate you….I hate no one.” you say quietly. Hate was too strong of a word. You didn’t even hate Kim. A strong dislike could describe how you felt about her. You didn't even hate Rachel. You just disliked her passive aggressive attitude that she was talented in hiding.

“I know I messed up…I so badly wish I could visit the past and do things differently. Instead, I tarnished whatever alliance we could’ve had…Im not talking romantically because I know that you’re with Paul and I respect it, but you’re so pleasant to be around and…” he stops himself from rambling and a beat settles between you two.

“….I kept Alice from looking in your future.” he then says.

“She wouldn’t have seen anything anyways. I’ve been around Paul. A lot.”

He nods and look down, keeping his eye on your ring.

“She says it’s spotty now….Could it be because of..That?” he points a bit to your neck.

You nod as you adjust your jacket. You didn’t bother to take it off.

“Did they notice? I had covered it before I came to the festival.”

He shook his head, “I think it’s good that no attention went on that. It only would’ve asked more questions and raise more concerns.” He then shifts a bit before continuing.

“Alice was right. You aren’t as fragile as before. It’s like your body is more solid…Not as strong as a vampire or a shifter’s but…It doesn’t feel like I can break your bones with one touch.” he speaks softly as he knitted his eyebrows.

“What about…What about my…Smell? Before, you couldn’t smell my blood. Do I really smell that much like Paul?” you ask as you lean forward a bit.

He swallowed a bit before he speaks, “A tad bit. I don’t know if it’s because of what Chelsea did but you still smell like you to me…A touch of a shifter, yes, because of the mark but even then, it’s faint. Your scent is still identifiable to me. Its nice. I smell the natural you.. Not your blood.”

You nod a bit as the waiter sets another wave of drinks down and you blindly order something to eat. Edward of course doesn’t want anything to eat and the waiter walks off to put the order to the kitchen.

“Alice told me how you were depressed.” You stare at him. His shirt was ragged but still looked majestic against him. You recognized that it was the same shirt from when you told him to stay away. He never took it off.

“I didn’t even bother to eat…”

“You starved. You tried to cause a scene so you could be punished by death.” You state with a slight frown. He nods and his eyes trail to your covered neck.

“Does it hurt?”

You didn’t want to answer but your head shook as he visibly relaxed.

“He wouldn’t hurt me.”

“Y/N, it’s a bite. I was only asking a question.”

“No…It was pleasurable.” you try to confidently say but you still shyly say it.

“Is it true? You can live forever?” he asked. A hint of hope was something he tried to hide but you still picked up on it.

“As long as Paul shifts. It seems like vampires are always in the area. Plus, he has to learn to control his wolf. Until then…How you see me, is how I stay…Once he stops phasing, we can age at a normal rate again You on the other hand, don’t have much of a choice to live forever.”

“When you live forever, what do you even live for?”

“Still….You have your family.” you whisper.

“They all have their other half.”

“Did you at least look?”

“Of course I did….No one came as close to you. It felt like a piece of me was missing.” he murmured.

“Edward…I’m married now.” you stress.

“I know, I know….I’m happy for you-“

“And a child.”

You saw a small bit of light ignite in his eyes before he swallowed, “Congratulations.” It was almost breathless.

You look down and it was a mixture of a scoff and a nervous chuckle.

“What?” he asks softly.

“I-I don’t know why I thought you were going to be angry…Upset.” you say quietly.

“Or why I would even care…” you thought to yourself.

His expression caught you off guard again as he were shocked that you would think so.

“How could I ever be mad at you for creating a life? An innocent soul has been placed on this Earth thanks to you. It’s the most beautiful thing a human could ever do.”

You blink and look down.

“Alice misses you….They all do.”

“Not Rosalie.” you correct.

He smiles a bit.

“I send them all the kindest regards.” you say. You remember the drink and take a moment to let it slide down your throat with a slight grimace.

“You haven’t drank before…Why now?”

“Why do you ask?”

“You’re drinking as if you’re numbing something.”

You sit back and cross your arms.

“So…You know me now all of a sudden? Not too long ago, I stood before vampire royalty.”

“I know….What it’s like…To try to bury something within you. I know it all too well. I can recognize behavior that is familiar to me.”

You experienced a feeling of being caught as you could only look at him, with no words to say back.

“Be careful it’s hot.” the waiter says as he suddenly appeared with your plate. You thank him and he leaves off after Edward tells him that he's sure that he doesn’t want anything, you make sure he gets you another drink. A Long Island Iced Tea.

You ate slowly, chewing each bite slowly. You study your plate as if it was a fossil.

“Im really sorry for everything. With us being apart, I really was able to sit and soak in the consequences of my actions. Just knowing you saw an ugly and disastrous side of me is something I have to live with.”

“You just…Snapped.” you say as you remember the way he went toe to toe with Paul.

“And I’m sorry for that. Hurting him meant hurting you and I was too selfish and immature to realize that.”

“Yeah.” you say quietly.

The drink has been sat down and you immediately drink and drink. You push the empty glass away.

“I won’t overstep my boundaries. You say you’re happy with Paul, I believe you….I would like to just be your friend.”

You look up at him and down, slurring out, “I don’t know if that’s a good idea to be honest.”

“Can I ask why?” he asked in a perplexed voice.

“That’s…” you shake your head a bit, “Pretend that it’s the other way around.”

He had no problem with this as he looked intently at you.

“Paul was sitting here, wanting to be my friend….After everything that’s happened….What’s your response?”

He stuck his lips out a bit as he shrugged nonchalantly, “If that were to make you happy and you genuinely wanted to be his friend back, I would have no problem with that.”

You narrow your eyes at him before looking at the view.

“You still want to be around me…I’m marked by him, I’m married to him, and we even have a child together.”

“Okay?”

“It goes against all of that…It’s wrong.” you whisper.

“What are we doing wrong, exactly? We’re simply sitting here and we’re talking….We can’t have an innocent conversation?”

“I'm entertaining you. I shouldn’t do that.” you say quietly.

“You’re not. We’re not on date, just as you suggested. You’re not flirting with me or anything. You're only being yourself.” he says with a soft grin.

You sigh a bit and he continues, “You’re traveling again for work. Anything could happen.”

“I was just in New York…Nothing happened.”

“Alice was there.”

You roll your eyes a bit, “Why do you have an answer for everything?”

“How useful would I be if I didn’t?” you hear him say and you could hear the smile in his voice.

You turn and gaze at him and he looks back.

“It’ll never happen.” you say a bit slurred.

“I’m fully aware.” he says nonchalantly, “But I’m curious.”

You nod a bit to encourage him on.

“What does it feel like on your end?”

“It’s….I would say strange but it seems like the wrong word….Paul completes me and makes me happy but….It’s like….You add onto my happiness….I feel safe…I wouldn’t want to lose your…Trust or….Loyalty.” you choke out in a whisper. You tried to stop your words but it was like you couldn’t lie. The words fell like a broken faucet.

“It doesn’t feel like you’re not in control?”

“It does feels like I’m in control….I have my bond with Paul and then….” your voice drops to a murmur. “Me and you….Have our own separate bond…It feels….Natural…..As easy as breathing..It scares me how it feels.” you say as you fidget a bit.

He blinked.

“Is this for life?” you ask as you put your hands under your thighs.

“I don’t know…With Alice not getting a clear visual of your future, it’s even hard to tell…”

You whimper quietly under your breath as you look at your surroundings. Italian natives speaking softly in their native tongues, oblivious to the situation that you were currently submerged in underground.

“What I feel for you is true. You heard what Marcus said. She can’t change what’s already been. If you had stayed and never went back home, we would’ve fell for each other..Naturally.” he murmured.

“So..You did the vampire version of imprinting on me?” You ask tearfully.

“Ive fallen in love with you…Alice helped me recognized the feeling because I never felt it before. I have intense feelings for you….I couldn’t let you go even if I wanted..I can’t change how I feel about you..Which is why I believed that death would make things easier. You were consistently in my thoughts. It killed me to not see you….To not talk to you..Or to even hear your voice.” It was as if he’s waited for this moment to tell you this.

“So, what will happen when I have to go home? I can’t duck off and sneak to see you. What if I cheat on Paul?”

“We can go our separate ways still if you’d like.”

You didn’t notice the glare on your face until Edward backtracked cautiously in a stammer, “O-Or…We figure out something else.”

You put your hands to your face.

“It’s not like that. It’s frightening how it feels like….” you shake your head and the waiter asks if you would like to replace your empty glass.

“Limoncello Martini, please.”

“Wait….You should slow down.”

You wave him off and give the waiter the green light to get the drink. They walk off.

“Here.” Edward whispered and pushed the glass of untouched water in your direction.

“Why can’t I have this?” you say to him.

“Only trying to help with responsibility.”

You nurse the water. The fresh alcoholic beverage sat untouched as the waiter walks away. You speak again.

“You ignored me…That night.”

He studies the table.

“Edward?”

“I thought I would kill him…”

“Why didn’t you answer me when I called? I only wanted to thank you.”

“I didn’t know…I just couldn’t bear to hear you to tell me to stay away from you, one more time.”

“I was also going to ask….How did you know what was happening? You came just in time.”

“…I came here...Traveling through to get to Volterra, I admit..I then smelled your scent.. It was familiar and I couldn't stop myself from following it and that’s when I spotted him...I read his mind..He was planning to squat in that villa because it's been vacant and it wasn't his first time there. I couldn't just let you get hurt, Y/N."

You eye the villa that was the topic of conversation and being afraid was an understatement.

"I don’t think I will be able to sleep.” You say with keys in your hand.

“You might have nightmares.” He says with his hands in his pockets.

“Thanks.” You mutter. You still didn’t move to unlock it and go inside.

“Do you want to talk more? We can talk until you get tired and fall asleep.” He offered.

You stare at the ground as you thought about it. You thought about saying no but you really didn’t want to be alone and he would be the one who could protect you.

You nod.

Night clothes were on your body and a blanket was clenched in your hands as you lay on the couch. He sat at the other end.

“Did you read my letter?”

You nod, “I did.”

“You didn’t tell Larry to get rid of the piece I bought.”

“I didn’t see the point….” You say as you wave it off.

“I still have this.” He says and pulled out a folded piece of paper out of his pocket.

You sit up and slowly unfold it and it was the picture of you that he drew. Not a wrinkle in sight.

“I can’t believe you still have this.” You say with a slight smile.

“I carry it with me everywhere….”

You fold it back before handing it back to him.

“You were going to die with it.” You whisper.

“I didn’t expect you to be there at the festival…I saw you and felt you….I really thought I had made it to the other side…It didn’t dawn on me that you hadn’t even died in the first place.”

You remember what he said when you tried to move him out of the way.

“Why me?….You’ve met some extraordinary people around the world in your lengthy journey of life. You’re fixated on a regular person from La Push who just lucked up to make a living out of art.”

“It’s just that…You’re way more than that…I knew it when I first saw you….You don’t see what I see..”

“Paul sees.”

“Who’s Rachel?”

You groan as you knew Alice was the culprit.

“Seriously?” You grumble.

“You don’t have to tell me. I was only poking around.”

“It’s a sore topic.”

“I’m sorry.” He whispered.

You reach for the remote. That’s what you focused on until your eyes started to droop.

After getting dressed in the morning, you down some Aspirin for your headache. You call Paul, no answer.

You decide to call Jacob.

“How’s things?”

He lets out a tired breath, “We’re trying to make it through these couple days. Paul is always on ten.”

“What’s happening? Any plans?”

“Rach’s birthday. She wants a get together and I need some normalcy.”

“Oh..” you say and you hear a deep voice in the background.

“Welp, that’s Sam. He said hi. I gotta go.”

“Tell him hey and alright, Jake. Stay safe.”

“Always am.”

The scarf was resting in your hands as you thought about wearing it. You look in the mirror and turn a bit.

Edward stood motionless in the doorway. He didn’t know what to expect as you walked slowly towards him.

“Hm.” you halfheartedly wrap a scarf around him. You both look in the mirror.

“Magneta looks good on you.” you say in an almost a shocked voice.

“You mean magenta.” he chuckles, clearly getting a kick out of it as he corrects you.

“Tomato tom-ato.”

“Yeah, not quite.”

“Anyway..” you say a bit more raised in volume as you hold a hand up, “The color suits you.”

He slides it off and wrapped it around you instead, tugging it a little to make you take some steps forward, “Thanks, but no thanks. It looks better on you anyways.”

You grow silent as you then look down, “Because of my mark.” you state in a whisper.

“That’s-That’s not what I meant.”

You step back a bit, “No it’s…It’s okay.”

Raising your hand, you slide the scarf off of your neck and clutch it with both hands.

“Does it look…Bad or something?” You whisper.

He looked at the bite on your neck. He held back a wince, it looked painful against your skin but he whispered, “No.”

You could have a thousand bites and he would still believe you’re above top.

“You ever thought about having kids of your own?” You say as you dab makeup to cover it. He watches closely as slowly but surely, it was hidden.

“It’s not known for us to reproduce so…I never gave it any thought.”

“Right…” you look down, “What about adoption at least?”

“Dangerous in my opinion…I personally wouldn’t do it. The kid grows up and asks the right amount of questions…It’s not going to end well.”

“Father, why don’t you eat?”

He smiles a bit, “Exactly. Could you imagine? Them running off and telling their friends that their father doesn’t have to eat anything at all.”

You smile a bit as you sit back in your chair of the vanity, “They’ll ask what you did for fun as a kid…How will you tell them all you did was skip rocks?”

“They won’t even have a clue what that is.” he says with a slight shake of his head as he laughed a bit.

“At all.” you say with a grin.

“Plus, no baby or kid would ever feel at ease with me. If I frighten animals, who knows how a baby would feel.”

“I wouldn’t count it out. Especially if you hadn’t held a baby before…”

You had spent the day, painting on the set where the fashion show is going to take place. Your mind was occupied but your mind kept wandering to back home. In that moment, you hoped Rachel’s birthday party would at least let everybody have a good time.

At home, you drank and drank. Partially because you didn’t want to think about the vampire civilization underground. Another part, you wondered if Paul was thinking about the options that were available to him.

You speak into the phone.

“Are you going to her party?”

“Yeah.”

There was no hesitation.

“Hope you have fun.”

“Mhm.”

You held your breath before turning the conversation around.

“Guess what?”

“What?”

“I haven’t smoked since I’ve been here.”

“Because you don’t want to? Or because you can’t find a plug there?”

Your feelings got hurt, “Just be glad I’m trying.”

“You’re doing something else…What is it?”

“I’ve had alcohol.”

“Mhm, right.”

“Never satisfied.” You mutter.

“Yeah, I’m so satisfied that you started drinking instead of facing your reality head on. Yeah, I’m real satisfied about that one.” He speaks sarcastically.

A hand swiped your face, “I love you and I’ll talk to you later.”

“If you really love me, you’ll do the right thing.”

You both hang up from each other.

The early morning let the birds chirp and fly. You both stop at a petrol station.

Pushing the sunglasses on your face, your head leans back in the cushion of the seat in the car.

You groan lowly, “I’m this close to a no show.”

“You’ve been warned.”

Turning your head to the side to peak at Edward, you shake your head a bit, “Don’t piss me off.”

He surprised you as he laughs a bit, not taking offense at all. It was as if you had dropped a clever joke. He was the one who persuaded you to go back to the villa instead of having “one last drink”.

Edward went to pay and you had plans to get a coffee to help you through the sluggish morning. You were instead stopped.

“Could you please hold my baby? I really have to use the restroom, I will be so quick, I promise.” the woman says to you in an urgent manner. She was still polite.

You stick your hands out and the baby didn’t budge their facial expression as you held them on your hip.

You watch as she entered the gas station that Edward came out of.

He tilted his head a bit with a slight grin.

“Who’s…Baby?”

“That woman’s.”

“Oh..” he says as he sticks the gas pump into the car.

He sticks his hands on his pockets as the number fleeted.

The baby was big enough to babble small words, but they played with the necklace you had decided to wear that day, in their hands.

“This might sound crazy but….Should we test our theory?” you murmured. He reaches out eagerly but you shake your head and say, “Hand sanitizer.”

He takes in a breath and you stay still, he gives a right nod as he stared at the child. After rubbing the sanitizer on his hands, you lean the child to him.

The child only furrowed their eyebrows in wonder as they stared at Edward. They blinked. You waited for the wobble of the bottom lip but nothing came. It was as if they were trying their best to figure him out. You even stopped breathing.

“Oh! Thank you so much!” the woman says and takes her baby back as she smiled at Edward.

Once she was at her own pump, you lean against the car as he took out the gas pump.

“So..What do you think?” You ask. You both get in the car and he has his hands on the steering wheel. “It makes me sad….”

A hand goes on his shoulder as you give him a look of sympathy. You slowly retract your hand as you realize you’ve been caressing it.

Dropped off, you don’t speak to anyone and just get to work.

It seemed to set the tone because people took care of business all around like an orchestra.

You paint, you shake the can of spray paint as headphones were covering your ears. Music drowned out your thoughts.

By the time you came back to take a shower, you didn’t want to eat. You were that tired but it still felt like the best feeling in the world.

With a groan, you’re shaken awake by Edward. You’re lifted out of bed and sat at the table to eat food that was cooked. If you weren’t so tired, you would’ve complimented.

Heavy eyed, you ate in a safe hurry so that you could go back to sleep. Before your head hit the pillow, slumber succumbed you.

“I don’t know how to play.” you say as you saw the jumble of numbers.

“It’s quite simple.”

He smiled a bit at the look you gave him and holds a wooden pencil. His delicate hands were in your focalization. It waved a bit like a wand as he talked in a soothing murmur.

"It's played by a 9x9 grid. The goal is to put the numbers one through nine in every column, every row, and in everyone one of these mini grids without repeating numbers."

You stare, "Okay."

"Every little one of these mini grids has to have the numbers one through nine once. I like to start with the number one. Look, this mini grid is missing a one."

You nod in understanding.

"See this one here, has two empty spaces that could have the number one."

You point and tap to the empty middle space.

"We scan the other numbers in this column and in this row. Do you see any other ones?"

You scan the row, you do find a one that's already in that row.

"Yeah. That one." you say and show him.

"Right, so that means the one can't appear in this space. So, because it already appears here, that means it has to appear in this empty space to follow the rules of Sudoku."

You watch as he then fills in the one.

"There's now one empty space left in this mini grid and because the numbers one through nine can only appear once, you can count and see what number is missing."

You count the numbers and say the number that isn't there. He hands you the pencil, you don't flinch when fingers touch. He stared as you fill in the number. You count and see that the mini grid is complete.

You smile softly at him, "Okay, it was pretty simple."

"I told you so." he smiled back.

You hold the little booklet, "But...It could've just been the way you worded it."

"I’m a good teacher?”

“Perhaps.” You say softly and the other mini grid is completed on your own and you show him.

A loving rub with a large hand on the skin of your shoulder was made. The easy breeze from the open window with the warm sun beaming, made you relax as it felt like a version of utopia. Not a worry in the world.

Faces were feet apart as the sweet smell that made one drool, wafted through your nose as he allowed the flutter of your easy breaths to be blown in his face.

The dream felt real. Very real. But the feeling of hurt also leaked into reality.

It was like a deep pit in your stomach when you woke up. You couldn’t even go back to sleep. An unwanted thought was gnawing at the back of your brain.

Something deep inside of you told you to call Paul.

Paul picked up after not answering the first time.

“Hey.”

“Hey yourself.” he speaks.

“Are..Are you okay?” you rasp out.

He doesn’t answer right away. Concern etched on your face.

“Paul.”

“Yeah?”

“Did you hear what I said?…..Are you alright?”

He sighs a bit, “I’m alright…How are you?”

“I’m good. I got so much done….I miss you.”

It wasn’t instant. This made you clench your jaw.

“I miss you too.”

“What’s wrong?” you ask.

“Nothing, Y/N. I told you that I’m okay.”

“Have fun at Rachel’s party? I’m not trying to pick on you.”

He didn’t speak for a moment.

“….Yeah….” It sounded like he was far away.

It was like pulling teeth. You ask where the baby is.

“Jacob offered to watch them….So they’re both over Billy’s.”

You’re silent for a bit before you ask curiously, “Why? What are you doing?”

“About to go to sleep. What are you doing?”

“About to start my day.” you say carefully with narrowed eyes.

“Well..I won’t hold you.”

“…Why are you lying to me?”

“Oh my god.” he whispered to himself on the line.

“I’m sorry, am I bothering you?” you ask sarcastically.

“I don’t want to argue, alright. We do enough of that shit and my mood does not need to be tainted right now. You think I'm lying... I’m just going to sleep…. Do you want me to fucking video tape my entire sleeping session for you?”

You stare at the phone with a slight grimace.

“Hello?” he asks.

The finger that was attached to your hand, hung up the phone. So badly, you wish that you were at home so you could see him in person. Just seeing him would let you know all that you needed to know. His tone was pissing you off. It was as if he was talking to someone in the pack, not someone that was the mother of his child.

Yeah, he was about to go to sleep. That wasn’t the issue because there was truth to it. But, you knew that it was only half of the truth. There was just something that he simply wasn’t telling you.

You didn’t care that it wasn’t the afternoon yet. Liquor touched your lips as you stood in the kitchen with the bottle in your hand, downing your cup without a break.

You pant a bit through your nose after the ice slid back into the bottom of the cup from you holding the glass upright.

Another glass was down your throat. Before you could stop yourself, you looked at a wall. You shift as you try to stand straight but you couldn’t in your state. The bottle was slammed down on the island countertop.

A breathy chuckle escaped your lips before you release a sharp sigh.

Clenching your jaw, you throw the glass cup at the wall with all of your might. You watch numbly as the glass sparked into a shatter against the wall before the pieces fell to the ground, partnering with the pile of ice.

[inbabylontheywept]

So I found one of your (nonfiction) stories and read the one about the refrigerators, and it made the librarian part of me very curious (and a bit horrified) and I have so many questions!! (Feel free to entirely ignore this, and I really don’t intend to ask anything classified) Are there still refrigerators being used for document storage? Did the refrigerators keep reasonably consistent temperature/humidity? (Because those are both things you want in anything resembling archival storage) How long were documents stored in refrigerators? Do you have any actual document storage/retention guidelines?!

Thank you so much for sharing all your stories, they are hilarious!!!

Naw, it's surprisingly difficult to even ask questions about classified material. We're encouraged but not technically required to be vague about the tests and their purposes, but the fridges are fair game.

Anyway, from the top:

Are there fridges still being used for document storage? At the time that I wrote the fridge piece, we were down to four (4) file storage fridges. At present, we are down to a single (1) file storage fridge, and parts to repair it are on backlog. Then we're going to have to build another filing cabinet. Not looking forward to that.

Did the refigerators keep things reasonant consistent for temperature/humidity? Yes. The temperature in the building does not fluctuate very much (they have relic computer systems that are absolutely, terrifyingly irreplacable) and keeping them happy is a major concern. The fact that it preserves paper is just a convenient side benefit. Humidity is likewise kept low in the basement (like, single digit percent low), for the benefit of some machines that dislike it strongly. We do occasionally raise the humidity in certain location while handling ESD sensitive materials, but those tend to be far from the fridges.

How long were the documents stored in refigerators? We have some facility documents that date back to 1972. We do occasionally have to reference those documents to answer such thrilling questions as "Why does overloading the machine hydraulics downstairs sometimes cause the microwave clock to reset upstairs?" (The answer is that, for reasons no one can explain, they ran 125 feet of wire off the test cell's breaker specifically upstairs, to the one outlet that powers the microwave.) (Seriously.) (And then they recorded this, as if their confession could expunge this kind of sin.) (Engineering does not follow Catholic God's rules- we do not have to forgive someone just because they fessed up.)

Do we have any actual document storage/retention guidelines? Sorta. The guidelines for disposal of documents refers to both positions and specific people that have been gone for years. In theory, someone could take it upon themselves to champion a new disposal process, but that would be boring bureaucratic work whose reward would be doing more boring bureaucratic work, and the machines that we work on here are the coolest shit in the world. Everybody loves working on the machines. Nobody likes sorting through papers. So we just kind of keep punting that one down the road. We'll probably do that until we get someone in who actually prefers doing paperwork to badass science (basically impossible), we get someone from outside the group who arrives to assure document compliance (theoretically possible, ridiculously arare) or until we run out of space (actually impossible, we add space more quickly than we can fill it with papers). We do have guidelines on storage safety. I do not know a lot about what they are. I'd be surprised if the fridges weren't kosher though. The official cabinets have some parts flimsy enough to put through with a can opener. Those fridges could be dropped from an airplane and not get a dent. They're beautiful devices.

[mokulule]

Take Out For Dummies - Part 4

Summary: Danny has been hired to take out Red Hood, there may or may not have been a misunderstanding.

First | Masterpost

Part 4 here is just a little interlude that doesn't really fit part 3 or part 5, but I hope you enjoy it anyways.

Jason fresh from a shower at his nearest safe house unlocked the door to his apartment and opened it just a crack so he could reach in his arm to get at the set of tripwires and disable them. His gear, sans the jacket he’d managed to forget he’d lent Danny, was slung across his shoulder in a duffle bag.

It would have been easier to just stay in one of his rotating safe houses, like he’d done in the early days, but him having an official apartment where his family could expect to find him, apparently did a bunch of good. He didn’t exactly know what it was about him having a semipermanent residence that made them think he was less likely to snap, but as long as it got them off his back Jason would take it - It was kinda nice to keep his books in one place.

He walked in and dropped the duffel on the kitchen table with a sigh. He would deal with that later. It was mostly just his helmet anyways - and should anyone come raid his place, he could apparently just claim he was a cosplayer. He snorted, but found himself smiling.

Urgh. He leaned his forehead against the cupboard he meant to open. He was such an idiot.

It was one thing entirely to acknowledge the fact that Danny was hot and he wouldn’t mind getting horizontal with him - or vertical or really any position, Jason wasn’t picky. Danny’s question of how Jason wanted him ran unbidden to his forefront of his mind and therein lay the problem. Because the answer to that question was dangerous. It was after all something entirely different to want Danny to kiss him softly, to hold his hand and smile at him like they were the only two people in the world.

He drew back and knocked his head against the cupboard, instantly regretting it when he hit harder than intended. He straightened and rubbed his smarting forehead, like so many things recently that hadn’t been entirely thought through.

Finally he got out the glass he’d been aiming to get in the first place.

The dial for the cold water squeaked and sputtered when he turned it and his gaze became unfocused as he waited for it to run cold.

He hadn’t even known Danny that long. He was weird (wonderful). He didn’t have any self preservation at all (he wasn’t afraid of him). Something was clearly wrong with him, he’d asked Red Hood on date! For a job, it was a job! Nothing more. Danny blushing when Jason was the one who took his hand didn’t mean anything.

Jason remembered the running water with a start and quickly filled his glass and turned it off. He shook his head and took a sip. He needed to just go to bed. Maybe things would make more sense in the morning.

By habit he checked his phone as he walked to the bedroom. He was only a little surprised to see the amount of notifications. Seemed the bats had noticed Red Hood’s absence on the streets tonight. It was just check-ins, wondering where he was, nothing unusual, nobody would be surprised if he didn’t answer, but the messages from Dick had him pausing.

First text from early in the evening was just a check-in because he’d somehow heard all the way in Blüdhaven that Jay wasn’t patrolling, but then timestamped just after midnight he got:

Are you sick?

Do you need anything? I can pick something up and drive by. Just say the word.

I can be in and out, quiet even.

It was such a Dick move, he was such a big brother worrywart. Of course he, as the person living in an entirely different city, was the one to offer to pick up groceries or whatever. Jason closed his eyes tightly and breathed slowly through his nose, deliberately relaxing his shoulders as he did so. If he’d been this kind of big brother before Jason’s death, maybe their relationship wouldn’t be this.

His thumb hovered over Dick’s contact. Dick was trying.

He lowered the phone. He was probably in bed by now anyway. It was four in the morning, he had a day job. There hadn’t been anything big brewing in Blüdhaven, which would have otherwise kept him up.

Jason huffed annoyed with himself. It was four in the morning, that was exactly why he should call now. He was the little brother. He got to be annoying. Before he could second guess himself again he hit the call button and let himself fall down back first on his bed.

The phone rang. An irrational bout of anxiety gripped him. What if he didn’t answer?

“Jay,” Dick answered his phone breathlessly, clearly disoriented, “are you okay?”

“Did I wake you?”

“Uh, I, yes?”

“Good.” Jason smiled at Dick’s groan and the clear pout in the way he whined “Jay.”

“Seriously Jay, are you okay? You weren’t on patrol.”

“The fact that I didn’t patrol doesn’t mean anything.”

“Jay, you micromanage Crime Alley like it’s going out of fashion. The only times you don’t patrol are when you’re out of town, injured or sick.”

“I-“ It was hard to argue when it was true. “I do other stuff too. Also you’re one to talk, at least I know to stick to a manageable amount of ground to cover.”

Dick laughed lowly. “Okay you got me, what other stuff were you doing then if you’re not nursing an injury?”

Jason didn’t have to tell him anything just because he asked. It was none of Dick’s business.

“I was on a date.”

“A date!” Dick gasped delighted, “Oh my God. Who are they? How did you meet? No wait, you probably don’t want to tell me any of that.” He chuckled with a note of self deprecation, that almost made Jason want to answer those questions, but he didn’t get to, because Dick changed tack asking softly, “Did you have fun, Jay?”

“Yes, yeah… I had fun.”

“I’m happy for you Little Wing.” The smile was obvious in his voice.

Jason’s throat was tight. Stupid Dick.

“I’m gonna sleep now.”

“Of course, goodnight Jay.”

-

Thank you all for the really lovely comments on last the last part, I'm happy so many of you enjoy this fic &lt;3

I have a plan of course but I don't really know when I will get around to writing the next part here. I'm closer to finishing the next part of Almanac so that's what've been taking up most of my attention when I have the time. But the next part here will be fun to get to! It will be the culmination of whole situation.

You can subscribe to the masterpost here for updates. (I made a new subscription post for this fic, I will still update the old one, but fewer people even have the option to reply to the new one)

[desperate-gay]

ok… i don’t know why but i get secret relationship vibes from stina.

what if reader is new to arsenal, she transfers cause of stina, and nobody knows their dating/married… reader says her girlfriend/wife’s name is emma (which is stina’s other first name) and all the girls keep bugging reader to meet her or see her at a game. then something happens when it’s like team game night where reader slips up and calls stina ems or emma and everyone’s like 😮

Meet The Wife

Stina Blackstenius x fem!reader

summary: the girls find out your married and just need to figure out to who

“Baby, time to wake up. You have to get ready so we can get our drills in before the game.” You say softly, moving the blonde’s messy hair to the side and rubbing your thumb up and down her cheek.

“I’m too sleepy.” Your wife grumbles into the pillow, making no movement to get up. Standing up, you sigh making it sound as if you’re just going to leave her bed but her wishes are soon destroyed when you yank the covers off her body and onto the floor.

“What was that for?” Stina exclaims, now sitting up in bed with an annoyed look pointed at you.

“Good, now that you’re up you can take a shower. You stink.” You fake grimace while folding the blankets that were on the ground. Too caught up in your head, you don’t notice the tall blonde towering over you from behind. Cold hands rest themselves below your shirt, causing you to jump in place.

“Maybe you can join me in the shower, kärlek.” She suggests, nipping at the skin of your neck as you shakily continue what you’re doing, trying not to give in.

“Nope.”

“Ugh, really? You’re going to turn down sex?” The taller girl throws her head back, groaning at your denial. All she needs as an answer is the stone expression plastered on your face. Your wife sighs and walks over to the closet to pick out her outfit for the day but not without mumbling under her breath in her native tongue.

“C’mon Stinky Blackstenius.” You joke which the other girl doesn’t find as amusing. She huffs and goes into your shared bathroom, slamming the door. “Ooo Stina Black-stinky-us. Much better.” You announce over the sound of the shower starting.

“I want a divorce!”

—

“Good game out there, speedy. Glad we snatched you up before anyone else could.” Katie pats your shoulder, passing you to get to her cubby.

Your transfer was pretty sudden but long-awaited, having played for Vittsjö in Sweden. You and Stina met each other when you both debuted on the national team. It both took you a while to admit your feelings for one another, but now here you are, married for 5 years.

No one knows besides your family and a few of your national teammates who’ve accidentally caught you making out in a storage closet. It’s not that you don’t want people to know, you both just enjoy your private life with no interruptions.

“It wouldn’t have been a tough choice anyway. I’d choose Arsenal in a heartbeat.” You proclaim, stripping out of your sweaty jersey.

“Why here?” Vic asks the question everyone is secretly wondering.

“The whole spirit here, the fans, the overall club just outshines the others, and I guess the people here aren’t too bad either.” You yelp as Kyra pokes behind your knee, making your leg weaken and almost make you fall. “You’ll regret that.” You point your finger at the younger girl with a scold.

After your shower, you’re brushing through your hair and gathering everything up in your bag, getting ready to leave as soon as possible to be able to lay around and relax with your wife. Just as you’re about to sling your bag over your shoulder, a sharp gasp stops you.

“Is that a ring?” Steph shouts, grabbing all the girl’s attention. Stina watches from afar with a small smile as the team hounds you with questions.

“Since when?”

“Who’s the lucky gal?”

“You’re engaged?”

“I didn’t even know you were seeing someone.”

“Okay, okay. Yes, I have a ring, no, I’m not engaged.” You answer to which all the girls frown. “I’m married.”

An uproar is held all around the locker room along with several more questions. You sigh with an exhausted smile and answer short questions to the best of your ability.

“Her name is Emma and we have been married for a few years. She’s the light of my life and I could never ask for a better person to wake up to in the morning and go to bed to at night.” Everyone coos at the new information, all finding out their new teammate is in love while Stina looks across the room with a love-sick smile on her face.

“Can we meet her?”

“Maybe one day.”

—

A few weeks later, the pestering never stops. Every day before a game the girls beg you to bring your wife to one so they all can meet her. You and Stina snicker over how oblivious they are to the wife being her.

It was someone else’s turn to host movie night since Beth and Viv’s place is being occupied by a very wild puppy that wouldn’t allow a quiet movie time. Stina surprisingly offered, the house being big enough and the living room having many different seating arrangements.

“Are ya comin’ to Stina’s tonight for our annual movie night?” Katie asks, watching you do your squatted reps.

“Of course. I couldn’t miss if I wanted to.” You breathe out, setting the bar in its original spot. Katie quirks her head in confusion but shakes it off, moving to start her turn. As your head flips around, you catch your wife’s gaze set on your ass with no shame. You wave your hand to wake her out of her trance which it does but also makes her flush and turn back to her workout.

As 7 pm began to approach, many of the girls began showing up, all bringing snacks and beverages. Some of them asked why you were so early, so you just made up an excuse saying Stina needed help with setting up and they all believed it.

About half an hour later, everyone is here and settled in their designated spots. You’re currently scavenging through the kitchen looking for your candy that you bought. You huff before walking over into the living room.

“Em, do you know where my candy is?”

“Em?” Alessia quips confusingly.

Leah quickly puts two and two together and jumps up to hug both of you awkwardly with Stina still sitting down on the loveseat while you’re standing.

“Why didn’t you tell us sooner?” She asks angrily, hitting both of you on the backs of your heads.

Multiple of the girls remain confused besides Viv, Lia, Kim, and Steph who are all smiling in their spots, waiting for everyone else to figure it out.

“Can someone explain here for those of us who don’t know what you’re talking about?” Kyra groans, not liking being out of the loop.

“Our new friend here has a wife we haven’t supposedly met before and her name is Emma.” Leah tries explaining, but the girls remain silent and confused.

“Stina’s first name is Emma! She just called her Emma even though no one else does. You guys comprehend?” The English Captain rushes out, waiting for everyone’s heads to shift. Soon multiple gasps are heard and you’re both quickly crowded by everyone.

“Everyone give my lady some space.” Stina interrupts, pulling you into her lap suddenly, making you shriek. “We get this information might be a little shocking but now you know.” She shrugs, smiling lovingly at you before kissing your cheek.

“A little shocking? Maybe try something bigger than that.” Beth scoffs with her arms crossed.

Once everyone gets their questions in, you all settle on a comedy movie and cuddle into someone. You remain seated in Stina’s lap with your head rested against her shoulder. She randomly kisses any part of your skin she can reach, enjoying not having to hide as much now.

“I have a question for you.” You whisper, turning your attention to the Swede.

“And what would that be?”

“Where’s my candy?” You whine from your lack of snacks which your wife finds adorable. She reaches beside her and pulls out a familiar colored bag.

“I had it ready with me right here, älskling.” Her hand holds up the bag away from your reach just as you’re about to grab it. You huff in annoyance and slump down into your previous position. “I need a little convincing to let you have these.” Stina smirks before perking her lips.

You roll your eyes at the once-shy girl who never wanted to show affection in front of her friends. Your hand grips her jaw, angling her face so you can smash your lips against hers. She hums into the kiss and soon traces her tongue along your bottom lip, but just before anything starts, a whistle grabs your attention.

“Oi lovebirds, get a room. We don’t wanna see you two swapping saliva.”

“Kyra, that is strike two, you better start running.”