#double anyway. fucking. please for the love of god if nothing else. understand that real life disabled people see how you talk about

[croakings]

i apologize for mithrunposting incessantly but honestly if any of you expected better of me you shouldn't have

anyway i get it and some of the failguy jokes are funny. i can tell that nothing i've run into is even malicious. but also it would be really cool and awesome if there were simply less posts calling a disabled person a failure or baby or a dog or whatever for needing accommodation or extra help, especially when like. hey did you know the source material very on purpose did not do anything remotely like that. critical thinking question: could there be some reasons these phrases are not great, potentially

[parkersbliss]

Part of The Crows

pairing: the crows x reader (all platonic)

warnings: shadow & bone spoilers? cursing?

wc; 800 ish

synopsis: the life of a crow trying to kidnap the sun summoner is not easy

a/n; this was fun to write will probably do more if anyone likes it :D

Masterlist | Taglist | Prompt List

—

first things first

how did you become a part of this?

well..

lets just say you were an assassin

like the best one in ketterdam

and assigned to kill mr. brekker himself

you have full confidence that you can

but when you sneak into his office

he’s just standing there, leaning on his cane

“whatever he’s paying you, I’ll double it.”

“what?”

“join my crew.”

“you do understand I’m here to kill you, right?”

kaz shrugs, sitting on his desk

“I’ll double it.”

you were never going to say no

no one says no to kaz brekker

“yes, okay.”

“good. first assignment, go kill your old boss.”

and now you’re kaz’s personal assassin

you met jesper the next day

the first thing you do is fawn over his gun tricks

and he is more than happy to show off

“someone here finally appreciates me.”

kaz rolled his eyes

“is he always like that?”

jesper shakes his head. “he’s worse.”

then, you met inej

and as soon as kaz lead you to meet her, it was awkward

not awkward for them

but for you as you stood there and watched them just look at each other

there was something there

you coughed

“right. this is inej.”

you two instantly became best friends

you loved going places with her

more specifically, missions

she did the spying, you did the killing

and of course, we come to the big reveal

“one million Kruge?”

“to cross the fold?”

“money isn’t anything if we’re dEAD”

kaz shuts both you & jesper up with one look

“I have a plan.”

“do you now? just a reminder cant exaclty just walk through it.”

sometimes kaz wishes you came with a “very sarcastic” warning

obviously you guys take the job

and spend the entire fucking night trying to find a way across the fold

that’s eight hours of sleep you wasted with kaz of all people

running around ketterdam

which turns from let’s find a way across the fold to heartrender

and then you find the heartrender

take her to dreesen

“criminals.”

you resist the urge not to laugh

was it THAT obvious?

“mr. brekker, no business man worth his salt hires his first applicant.”

*cue threat from kaz and jesper showing off his gun*

“you wouldn’t.”

“no business worth his salt would bargain for what he could take.”

you cross your arms, smirking

oh it felt good to be the ones in charge

“two weeks ago he crossed through the fold on foot.”

your eyes bug out of your head at that

and now you’re supposed to kidnap the sun summoner?

you, jesper & kaz share the same look of “utter bullshit”

“her name is alina starkov”

BANG

milana screams

no one else flinches

“you have until sunrise.”

oh great, another late night expedition

“he doesn’t have a way across the fold, you guys know that.”

you shrug, “it’s kaz.”

“just take the bet,” jesper whines

inej takes a shot

“he’s obsessed with taking down pekka rollins.”

“well of course he’s obsessed with taken down the guy who’s paid off stadwatch to get away with murder.”

“It’s more than that. I’ve seen the way kaz looks when he says his name. He wants revenge.”

you raise a brow at jesper, you thought kaz might’ve told her already

then inej is being summoned

“you want company?”

“No.”

“I meant to-,”

“Just shut up jesper,” you said, patting him on the back

then in strolls mr. brekker himself

you don’t comment on the bruise forming on his face

“you all right, boss?”

kaz takes a shot, one that was YOURS

but you don’t say anything

“no. we’ve been wanted off the job.”

“by who?”

“who do you think?”

“did he recognize you?”

“if he did, I’d be dead.”

kaz checks his watch, “five hours till sunrise.”

“we’re off the job tho, right?”

god, that boy is so stupid

“never make a decision out of fear jesper, only out of spite.”

“well, greed always worked for me.”

“I prefer for the fun of it. or you know, sweet revenge.”

“you just like showing off your skills.”

“so do you.”

silence then “both of you, leave.”

you roll your eyes, nudging jesper

“lets go before kaz has both our heads on spikes.”

anyway

you’re functioning on no sleep running around ketterdam

and then inej asks jesper to kill someone for him

and then kaz finds a lead

and now you’re playing distraction with jesper as charming as ever

you’re so lucky you found the conductor

only after inej almost killed him

I mean seriously

“Don’t,” Kaz said

and then there’s a knife like inches from your head

“I’ll need 20 pounds of alabaster coal, a pack of majdaloun jurda and uh… a goat”

you begged to go get the goat

I mean literally begged

“kaz, pLEASE PLEASE PLEASE”

“(Y/N)…”

“Kaz.”

“Mate just let her go get the goat.”

“fine-”

“YES”

“You’re with me.”

“Oh for fu-”

anyway you get the goat

kaz grips his cane and looks at you with raised eyebrows

you’re just like clutching this little goat

with all the love in the world in your eyes

and kaz cannot understand WHY

but that’s kaz

then of course you see the conductor making deals he shouldn’t

“kaz you have your scheming face.”

“I’m not-”

“I don’t like that face.”

“For the record, you don’t like any of my faces.”

“I dislike this one the most.”

if kaz could, he would punch you

“yOU GAMBLED?”

addiction is real

jesper is a perfect example of this

“ITS FINE”

“THERE ARE PEOPLE CHASING YOU”

“THATS NOTHING NEW”

“BOTH OF YOU SHUT UP AND GET IN”

land mine go boom

“please tell me you have 20 pounds of coal?”

“so slight snag in the plan…”

“we know you gambled it,” kaz deadpanned.

“I lost a little bit of money”

kaz gives him the look

“I lost all of the money, BUT I managed to steal 20 pounds of alabaster coal”

“this is sixteen”

“SIXTEEN pounds of alabaster coal”

“can we do it in sixteen?”

“never been done before.”

cue the dirty looks from everyone at jesper

you sit across from inej next to kaz

and then the tracks aren’t connected

mass panic, mostly from jesper

arker explains that it’s all fine as long as the volcra don’t attack

spoiler alert, they do

and one gets stuck on a spike

it just goes downhill from there

the coal is gone

“tHiS iS hOw wE dIE”

“jesper, gRAB THE GOAT”

“I’m not throwing out the goat”

“GRAB THE DAMN GOAT ITS NOT BAIT ITS FOR YOU”

inej grabs her knife and starts praying

“HUG THE GOAT AND SHUT THE HELL UP”

and then arker casually says you’ll definitely die with the volcra weight

BUT JESPER SHOOTS THEM ALL

so now everything is fine

then a volcra rips open the top

and now arker is screaming

Inej is praying

jesper might as well be aLMOST crying

kaz looks unfazed

and you’re

well you

you’re screaming AT kaz

“kAZ BREKKER I WILL HAUNT YOU IN THE AFTER LIFE”

“THIS WAS THE STUPIDEST IDEA EVER”

“HOW ARE YOU SO CALM?? DO YOU REALIZE WE ARE GOING TO DIE”

you don’t die

jesper shoots it

you lived

for now

you get off the train

brush yourself off, pretend like nothing happened

kaz coughs looking at you

“my promise stands true, by the way”

“is that so?”

“I will haunt you if I die”

“I have no doubt”

“asshole”

[nyctophilin]

Fake affection | I

sweet anon: Can I request a dom! Han Jisung smut? Where he and the reader are fake dating because Jisung want's to make someone jealous but ends up fucking the reader instead? I love your writings so much!!

Chapter I, Chapter II, Chapter III, Chapter IV, Epilogue

Description: Han Jisung has been rejected by the girl he likes one to many times. He decides that he has had enough and is set on making her want him back. What could possibly make her want him more than seeing him with her rival after she boldly assumed he can’t find anyone better. That way Jisung and Y/N are stuck in a fake relationship until Jisung’s crush falls for him. Or he falls for someone else.

All rights reserved © nyctophilin 2020. Re-posting, copying and translating any of my works is prohibited.

Pairing: Han x fem!Reader, Hyunjin x fem!Reader

Word count: 4.5k

Genre: College!AU, Fake dating!AU, Angst, Fluff, eventual Smut

Warnings: swearing, mention of masturbation

A/N: Wow, so it looks like I am unable of making short fics, haha. I planed for this to be a one-shot but it’s already this long and I don’t want to bore you guys with long fics so I will make a second part and a third if needed but I doubt. I really hope you guys like this one. Feedback is very much appreciated.

      Y/N was tapping her finger on the desk, her head resting in her palm. She was watching the professor walk around in front of the class explaining something but she wasn’t paying attention. Her mind was filled with thoughts about whether or not she was going to get the role. 

      Some people from her university that were majoring in Film Production had to write a script for a short movie and the best five got chosen to be produced. Initially, she believed that only Theater and Film Majors could participate at the auditions but the administration of the school made an announcement one morning informing them that everyone could take part in the audition process. That meant she had to deal with more competitors for the role she wanted.

      Initially, Y/N was the only one who wanted to audition for the main role of one of the movies since people didn’t really catch its concept that well. When the audition day finally came, one Modern Dance major showed up out of nowhere and auditioned as well. The apparition of that particular character made her blood boil with anger.

      Her competitor for the role was none other than Mina, her so-called enemy. They weren’t enemies in the real sense of the word. They just simply didn’t click with one another and silently agreed a long time ago to ignore each other. They weren’t pulling childish stunts on each other, they didn’t speak each other's names unless necessary, they didn’t try to win each other in grades or parties or body counts. They were just mutually ignoring one another. And everything was fine until she showed up there.

      Y/N wasn’t going to lie and say that Mina wasn’t good. Her performance wasn’t exceptional but for someone that has never done that before, she was fairly good. That had her worried about her chances of getting chosen.

      When the bell finally rang ending her suffering she got up in the split of a second and left the room. She could not bear to hear any more of the professor’s babbling. Her boots let out quiet thuds every time they touched the concrete floors. She found herself in front of the announcement board but the paper that was supposed to tell her if she got chosen or not, was missing. Thinking to herself that they probably will put it up later she turned on her heels and made her way towards the cafeteria.

      She met her friend Hayoon there and they sat down at a table situated in the centre of the cafeteria. They talked about how they had been up until then and Hayoon complained about one of her classes and how she’s going to fail it.

      The chatter in the cafeteria died down when the door was slammed open and Mina stomped in, a bitter expression on her face. “I can not believe that they made me a stunt double! What does that even mean?” Her voice was louder than it should have been as she addressed her friends. Her intention was most probably to attract attention.

      A smirk crept on Y/N’s face as she realised that she did, in fact, get the main role. She gave her friend a suggestive eyebrow raise as she slowly took the chopstick to her mouth. Her face dropped when she heard the stomping approaching her. “Hey, loser, what’s a stunt double?” Mina’s voice was scratching her ears. How she managed to sound like one of those toys for dogs sometimes, she’ll never understand.

      “I can’t believe you’ve auditioned for a role without knowing what a stunt double is.” Y/N rolled her eyes at the other girl and a few people from around them chuckled. Mina’s face caught a crimson colour as the embarrassment settled in.

      “Haha, you are so funny!” It was clear by now that the girl was trying to mask her flustered form by trying to embarrass Y/N back.

      The truth was that she didn’t mean to make fun of her. She just let her first thoughts leave her mouth. “I wasn’t trying to be funny.” A sigh left her lips. “A stunt double is a person that executes all the dangerous or action scenes for the main actor so they don’t get injured. Stunt doubles are usually gymnasts, people that know martial arts and all that jazz. They probably chose you because of your dance background.”

      “I can’t believe it. Not only they didn’t give me the role, but they are also going to use me to protect you?” Mina had an annoyed expression.

      “Oh please! Did you really think they were going to choose you? You entered that room without even knowing the concept and somehow managed to get the feel right a couple of times. Meanwhile, some of us actually prepared for that audition.” Y/N was fed up with Mina’s princess behaviour. Always thinking that everything is rightfully hers and expecting everyone to kiss her ass. All that just because her father was donating a big sum of money to the university every term. They are donations at the end of the day and she should not be expecting special treatment just for that.

      Mina’s face became a crimson red for the second time in ten minutes and she stomped away from Y/N’s table. The few people that were watching them averted their eyes when Y/N took a look around.

      From the corner of the cafeteria, someone was watching them with a smirk on their face. Oh, how he got just the perfect idea.

            Y/N sat in the second closest row to the professor. She was in “Canto class” as she liked to call it. It was one of the optional classes she chose to take that year. It wasn’t a compulsory class for Theater and Film majors since you don’t necessarily have to know how to sing to be an actress but she took it anyway because she thought it would be fun. And so far it was.

      A loud bang invaded her left ear and she turned to find Han Jisung having his back to her and chatting with his friends that were seated a few rows behind them. She raised her eyebrow but didn’t question it. It wasn’t like the seat was occupied and she definitely had nothing against him sitting next to her. He probably just wanted to pay more attention since he and his friends are always distracted during class. 

      Y/N turned back to her stuff and opened her notebook to take another look at the notes from last class. Soon after the professor entered the classroom and the chatter died down. 

      She was vigorously writing in her notebook everything the professor was explaining to them. Suddenly she felt a touch on her left elbow and stopped for a second. She immediately resumed her writing, convinced that he probably did that by mistake. Not even a minute later she felt another touch on her elbow this time more evident. She ignored it again not paying much mind to it. Jisung’s elbow collided with hers causing her to push her notebook and scribble on it.

      She snapped her head towards him and felt anger overcome her when she noticed the smirk on his face. “What?” She whispers yelled in his direction.

      “Hi!” He did a short wave of his hand in her direction and she clenched her jaw. She closed her eyes and exhaled deeply before going back to her note-taking. She had only five minutes of peace before he poked her side again. She smacked his hand away from her and continued to mind her own business.

      Throughout the class, Jisung kept bothering her and trying to talk to her despite her obvious wish to let her take notes. When the bell rang she got up quickly, her blood boiling and left the room in a hurry hoping she could lose Jisung on the busy halls. As she was hurriedly making her way between the sea of people she felt an arm going over her shoulders and she crashed with the owner of the arm.

      “Why are you in such a hurry babe?” Jisung’s voice rang in her ear as they were practically glued to each other. She grabbed his hand and swung his arm away from her shoulders.

      “For the love of God, what do you want from me Han Jisung?” Exasperation was present in her voice as she threw him an ugly look.

      She couldn’t guess what he needed from her to annoy her to that extent. They were acquaintances and nothing more. They knew each other from that one class they shared and the longest interaction they had was when the professor prepared an interactive class once and they had to work in groups of five.

      He was the university’s “heartthrob” as people liked to call him. Y/N personally thought that that title should be given to Hwang Hyunjin who was majoring in Modern Dance. He was more mature than the rest of his friends, he was friendly with everyone and wasn’t pulling pranks on innocent people to entertain some brainless creatures. But who was she to oppose the masses?

      On top of doing all those things, Jisung was also in a relationship with Mina. Every time they are together they will target someone and will start making fun of them. More Mina than Jisung but he was still entertaining her actions and that made him as guilty as she was.

      “I need to ask you something. Or better, make you a proposal.” He winked at her and she felt an uncomfortable shiver run through her. How disgusting.

      “Ok, and what is it?” She threw him an expectant look and he started looking around.

      “Let’s talk outside where there are fewer people. You got a free period, right?” Confusion made its way on her face.

      “How do you know that? Are you weirdo following me?” She has never talked with him as friends and they share only one class. How on earth would he know her schedule?

      “What? No! I see you hanging out around the university all the time after our class.” She rolled her eyes at his answer and gestured her hand towards the closest exit out of the building signalling him to lead the way.

      Very soon they were seated on a bench under a tree somewhere behind the university. It was her first time coming there. Y/N usually liked to remain at the front of the building since couples usually liked to come there and make out sometimes even fuck.

      “I think we should start dating.” He blurted out and she froze for a second before jumping to her feet startling the man.

      “I knew you were fucking weird. I’m leaving!” What in the actual fuck did she think when she came here. For a second she expected a real conversation but Jisung’s main skills were flirting and making bad jokes. She set her expectations way too high for that conversation.

      She picked her bag from the bench and started leaving only to have Jisung grab her wrist and stop her. “Wait, let me explain. I swear you’ll understand better after.” Y/n wanted to turn and leave but the puppy dog eyes he gave her made her stay and listen to him. Now, don’t get her wrong, his expression didn’t soften her but if he was desperate enough to try the puppy eyes on her then it must be important to him.

      She plopped down on the bench and waited for him to start talking. “Look, I’m pretty sure you know Mina. And I know you two aren’t on great terms. I say we date so you can get back at her for all the things she has done to you.” He raised his eyebrows at her and pursed his lips.

      Y/N was the one that raised her eyebrow next as she leaned her head to the side. “Aren’t you and Mina dating?” 

      “Obviously not.” Jisung used a tone that pissed Y/N off. A tone that said ‘It was so obvious, how can you not know?’ and she didn’t like it one bit.

      “Oh, I’m so sorry! I must have read the signs the wrong way. I mean, it's not like you are always together and you carry her backpack around and you hang out outside of school six days out of seven and kiss before classes and make out behind the university probably right on this bench.”

      A smirk appeared on Jisung’s face. “Who’s following who now?”

      “Don’t flatter yourself. Mina’s voice is so annoying I could hear her every time she talked. When I would turn to see what was up now you two were most times engaged in some sort of PDA.” She spoke fast trying to prove that she wasn’t following him. She didn’t know why she felt the need to do that but the thought of Jisung thinking that she has some sort of interest in him was terrifying. He completely humiliated the last “unpopular” girl that confessed her feelings to him and at that moment the last thing she needed was for him to go around saying she is a stalker.

      “Well, we are getting there. I asked her out and she said that she’ll love to but it’s too fun to tease me. When I asked her ‘What if I get a girlfriend?’ she told me I can not find anyone better for me than her. When I saw you fighting in the cafeteria earlier I knew I found my perfect girl. Not only are you hot, but she also hates you.” Y/N raised an eyebrow at his words.

      “Hot?” Her tone was untrusting as this was the first time someone from uni had said that to her. 

      “Yeah. You didn’t think that guys came to last year’s theatre spectacles because they were actually interested in theatre, right?” A laugh left his mouth at her dumbfounded face as she registered his words. A blank expression adorned her face immediately after trying not to seem so surprised.

      “Well, not anymore.” She let her tongue trace her bottom lip before biting the flesh. “Ok, so tell me what you actually want us to do.” Uneasiness settled inside Jisung as he watched her bored face.

      “Well, I mean what I said. We should date. Or fake dating if you will. That way I can make Mina jealous and push her to run into my arms. I bet she can’t stand seeing me with you for too long.” He looked into her eyes hopefully thinking that maybe he convinced her but his hope was quickly shattered when she opened her mouth.

      “What are you? Five? I don’t want to get back at her and I have absolutely no reason to help you in your sick plan. I’m out of here!” Once again she picked up her bag to leave only for Jisung to grab her wrist and stop her, again.

      “Please Y/N! I’m desperate. I’ve been trying to date her for a year and a half already.” That was pathetic. She had absolutely no reason to help him. None at all. But something pushed her to stay and accept his offer. Maybe she could take advantage of the situation.

      Turning her head towards her she tried to keep a straight face as best as she could. “What do I get out of it?”

      Jisung’s face brightened instantly at her question and he held her hand with both of his. “Anything you want. If it’s possible I’ll do it.” His eyes were pouring into hers and a stupid sparkle was present in them.

      “I guess you were going to do that anyway but I want you to present me to your friends.” The same bored expression that she had on for almost the entirety of their conversation was adorning her face. Jisung was amazed at the lack of emotions she managed to show but she was an actress. Maybe she’s just good at her job.

      “Why? Do you have a crush on any of them?” A smirk was enveloping his facial features and he had a teasing tone. Y/N rolled her eyes at his comment.

      “No. Some of them seem like really interesting people but their only defect was hanging out with you. Now that I have to hang out with you too I might as well start talking to them.” She shook his hands off hers before putting it in her front pocket. “Now I have to go to class cause my free period is almost over. See you later, babe!” She winked at him before turning around and making her way to her next class.

      The next day she met with Jisung in front of the cafeteria so they could walk in together and “announce” their relationship. Somehow he got hold of her number and they texted the night prior about the terms of their little deal. She felt like laughing when she saw how serious he was about it. If he really did end up dating Mina she’ll be convinced that both of them are idiots.

      His arm was over her shoulders as they walked through the tables. Multiple people were staring at them but she decided to ignore them. Upon reaching the table she placed her tray down and took a seat. The people at the table were looking confused at one another and some were throwing Jisung questioning looks.

      “Everyone, meet my girlfriend.” He spoke gesturing with a hand towards her. She smiled at them and waved her hand, muttering a soft ‘Hi!’.

      One of them, who she recognised to be Lee Minho, a Modern Dance major cleared his throat. “Hey. It’s nice to meet you.” He had an awkward smile on. “What are you majoring in?”

      “Yeah, I don’t recall seeing you around campus.” Seo Changbin, a Music Production major added.

      “Oh, I…” She started talking but a puff coming from her left stopped her.

      “Seriously dude? You share a class. She’s L/N Y/N from your Theory and Improvisation class.” The voice belonged to Hwang Hyunjin and she felt a funny feeling in her stomach at the realisation that he knows her. Everyone around the table was throwing him weird looks.

      “You are right but how do you know that? I’m pretty sure you don’t take that class.” There was a trace of embarrassment in her voice.

      “I don’t but sometimes when I wait for those guys outside of the classroom I see you walking out.” He said that with nonchalance taking a bite from his food.

      “And how do you know her? She’s not a Music Production major otherwise we would have known. And she’s not a Dance major either otherwise Minho and Felix would have known about her as well.”Changbin’s tone was almost provoking as if Hyunjin had done something bad and he was about to reveal it.

      “She’s a Theatre and Film major. Last year when we went to all those theatre spectacles to support Jeongin I was actually paying attention to the plays. She had either the main role or the lead. I remember her being really good.” She felt her cheeks heat at his comment.

      “Thank you!” She threw him a smile. However, she got ignored as Lee Felix started talking.

      “Do you know her Jeongin?” She somehow felt offended by his question. Maybe that wasn’t his intention but he should have used a different tone.

      “Of course I do. We share almost all of our classes and last year we worked on multiple plays together.” Annoyance was present in his voice caused by his friends' ignorance.

      She knew Jeongin from the first day. He was the first to speak to her although they didn’t exactly become friends. They kept on working on plays together throughout the entirety of the first year of college but they kept everything mostly professional since they both had their own group of friends and she kind of disliked most of his friends.

      “Then how come you never talk about her?” Now, wasn’t Changbin an annoying one? She rolled her eyes discreetly at his question.

      “Because we are not the best of friends. Why don’t you talk about Kim Gina from your degree?” The youngest question was a good one. They were acquaintances and barely knew something about each other. What was he supposed to talk about?

      “Gina is not hot. What am I supposed to talk about?” The older male said calmly with a shrug of his shoulders.

      The water she was just drinking got stuck in her throat and she started coughing violently. Jisung started hitting her back repeatedly trying to help her swallow. When she finally calmed down she looked at him annoyed.

      “Who she is, is not important. What’s important is that she is my girlfriend” he gave Changbin a side look ”and you have to accept that. Stop talking about her like she is not sitting right in front of you.” A few of them raised their hands in defeat while some of them averted their eyes. Minho and Changbin rolled their eyes.

      She felt her blood pressure spike up at their action. She remembered why she never wanted to talk to any of them. Arrogant pricks.

      “Ok, Mister protective boyfriend. Just tell us when you break up.” Minho took a bite of his food done with the younger man’s antics. Everyone knew that he was in love with Mina. The moment she shows some interest in him he would probably leave this one in a heartbeat.

      Y/N sucked in a breath discreetly. He really got her worked up and she hated it. She put an arm around Jisungs shoulders and yanked him towards her, his face close to her chest. With her other hand, she grabbed the sides of his face making him look up at her and forcefully pursing his lips. 

      “Break up? Do you wanna break up with me, babe?” Y/N’s voice was mocking as if she was talking with a child. Jisung swallowed hard before shaking his head. She smiled at his response and used the hand from around his shoulders to ruffle his hair. “That’s what I thought.” She placed a short kiss on his lips before releasing him and turning back to her food.

      Everyone at the table was looking at both of them shocked, especially Minho and Changbin. She wanted to let a proud smile escape her but she controlled herself.

      For the rest of the lunch, she decided not to engage in any more discussions with Jisung’s friends. She continued eating her food and listened to them talking about things that didn’t involve her, occasionally responding to Hayoon’s texts.

      She was the first one to get up, impatient to go to her next class and not have to see them. “Bye guys. It was lovely meeting you!” She smiled at them, a smile half true because she did like some of them. “Bye babe. See you later!” She grabbed the sides of his face again placing another kiss on his lips before taking her empty tray and leaving them alone.

      The men all watched her as she made her way out of the cafeteria. When she closed the door behind her they all burst into laughter. Jisung was biting the inside of his cheek irked by their action. When the laughter stopped, Seungmin that was sitting next to him put his hand on his shoulder.

      “I absolutely adore your girlfriend. She knows how to keep her ‘babe’ in check I see.” Seungmin tried cupping his face as Y/N did but Jisung slapped his hand away.

      “Are you her good boy, Jisungie? Does she give you rewards if you listen to her?” Minho cooed at him and Jisung held back an insult.

      “Shut the fuck up. It’s not like that. She surprised me as well. Who the fuck knew she was going to do that?” When he proposed the whole fake dating thing to her he thought it would be easier. Looking at it now he can’t understand why he thought that. He saw the way her fights with Mina unfold and he knew she was an actress which meant that she was probably either crazy confident or really good at faking it. For some reason, he thought she would be easier to tease and control but it would be a lie if he said it didn’t intrigue him. He liked a challenge and if the prize was Mina he would try his best.

      “And you man” Chan spoke for the first time “what the fuck was that? Do you know her entire biography?” He was looking at Hyunjin who rolled his eyes.

      “I told you I paid attention to last year’s plays. On top of that, she’s hot. I remember that after one spectacle I and the guys from my dance group at the time talked about her for like a month. She was so..” The man let out a groan and threw his head back trying to explain what he meant.

      “Sure, tell me more. Did you masturbate to the thought of my girlfriend? Perhaps got any wet dreams about her?” Jisung commented, raising an eyebrow.

      Hyunjin winked at him as a smirk made its way on his face. Some of the guys simultaneously let out disgusted sounds at his gesture.

      “But how did this whole thing happen? I can’t remember a moment when you talked about her or when you were together.” Felix’s deep voice rang making everyone pay attention to him.

      Changbin suddenly let a gasp out and dramatically covered his mouth. “Yesterday our little Jisungie sat next to her in Theory and Improvisation and when the class ended he ran after her. I think he might have had a secret crush!” The older man teased.

      “Yeah, but she looked really annoyed with him. Hence why she sprinted out of the class. Why would she accept to date him if she looked like she’d rather listen to Mr Jung talk about the first piano ever invented.” Chan intervened making Jisung shrug his shoulders.

      “She was annoyed with me but what can I say? I’m so charming she couldn’t refuse me.” He leaned back in his chair putting his arms over the back of the chair. 

      “I think she did it out of pity. When she realized you’ve been trying to get Mina for a year and a half now she probably felt so bad for you she decided to sacrifice herself so you look less like a loser.” Hyunjin said his tone way to serious to be a joke.

      Jisung threw the man a deadly stare. “At least I didn’t masturbate to the thought of her like a fucking virgin.” He spat in the other man’s face.

      “Touche.”

[donutloverxo]

Stevie's new beard

*gif by @marvelheroes*

Birthday shot #2 & Kinktober day 8 - Beard kink

Please note that my work is not to be reposted or published anywhere other than my Tumblr or AO3 account without my permission.

Dividers by @whimsicalrogers

Summary - You have some strong feelings about Steve’s new look.

Warnings - 18+ only please, smut(m/f), dom Steve, daddy kink.

Pairing - Steve Rogers x female reader

Word count - 2.5k

Masterlists are linked in the bio!

One more swift turn over the corner, your eyes squinting as you tried to concentrate, “That’ll show him,” grumbling under your breathe, pressing the scissors down, “done.” With a smirk on your face.

You had been working on cutting out Steve’s face from your honeymoon album. An album you had spent hours on, your blood, sweet and tears, literally, you must’ve gotten like five paper cuts working on it. But none of that mattered. You were mad.

No, you were fuming.

The previous year, you hadn’t been able to celebrate your birthday with Steve since he was called on an emergency mission. Which was fine at the time you had only been dating for a few weeks. And when he went to Siberia over a month ago, you thought he’d be back for your birthday for sure. Then you’d get to have him pamper you and baby you for the whole day, not that you needed such an excuse, but still.

It was one in the morning, your birthday had already started and you doubted that Steve would be able to make it. He had gone silent a week ago, for his teams and your safety.

Well, by the time he’s back you’ll have cut him out of all your pictures. Maybe you’d even go stay at your sister’s for a while. You missed her and needed a vacation and teach Steve a lesson. You wouldn’t be back until he’s growling on his knees - begging for your forgiveness.

Or maybe... he wouldn’t care. Maybe he’d be glad that you’re gone. You didn’t know what you’d do if that happened, you always seem to be weighing him down. You understood that being married to Captain America meant that you had to share him with the rest of the world. Most of times, you were alright with that. You didn’t care much for the Captain, he was fine but he was no Steve Rogers.

You sighed, giving up on your little project, thinking about maybe calling it a night. Hopefully your friends remember your birthday and do something special for you.

Slipping into Steve’s t-shirt – because as much as you were mad at him, you really did miss him. This was the longest you had been away from him.

Fluffing your pillow, keeping Mister Steebie next to you, you climbed on top of it. Ready to switch off the lights -

“Hey there, sweetheart,” you gasped when you heard the low rumble, clutching your neck, taken aback and panting.

Taking a deep breathe, you looked at your door over your shoulder, sighing when you noticed it’s Steve.

Except it wasn’t...?

“What the fuck?” you frowned and did a double take.

Getting off your bed and walking over to the door. He was still dressed in his dark stealth suit, his dirty blonde hair swept back, his jaw covered in a thick beard - a few shades darker than his hair.

You stopped a few steps away from him, taking in his new look. You didn’t know what to make of it but it did make you shiver - for some reason.

Your lips pressed in a flat line as you stared at him. He spread his arms out, in an attempt to hug you, probably, trying to close the distance between you but you took a step back. Eyeing him suspiciously.

“What’s wrong, doll?” he tilted his head to the side, giving you his Disney eyes.

“What’s wrong with your face?” you spat.

“What do you mean?” his eyebrows scrunched together as he rubbed a hand over his beard.

“Don’t do that!” you admonished him, folding your hands under your titts, perking them up.

“Do what?” scratching his beard, “You’re not making any sense, doll. Didn’t you miss me?”

“I did,” you huffed, “Do you know what date it is?”

“Yes, I do know. That’s why I’m here. I got back as soon as the mission wrapped up. Now come here and let me give you a birthday kiss,” extending an arm towards you.

“Nuh-uh,” you shook your head.

“Why?” he pouted. “I made it back in time, just like I said I would. I missed you, come on just one kiss... wait a minute. Is this about the beard?” You nodded. “You hate it? Tony said you would, I just didn’t have time to shave. I’ll go do it now then.” Since he was desperate for kisses and cuddles.

“No, don’t!” You pressed a palm on his chest, in an effort to stop him. “I mean, sure if you want to... but I don’t hate it. It’s kind of the opposite... I think. I just need time to process this.”

“Doll,” he exasperated, sighing, 'politely’ trying to tell you off. “I’m tired. And you’re really not making any sense.”

“I just fucking love your beard, ok!” you snapped. Your cheeks heating up at the brash confession. Clenching your thighs together. You shouldn’t like it as much as you did. It hides Steve’s beautiful face and makes him look so feral and dangerous. So not Steve.

“Really?” he quirked a brow, pulling you flush against his chest, “how much do you like it, puppy?”

“I - I don’t know...” Still embarrassed, you hide your face over his heart, rubbing your cheek against the rough kevlar of his suit. “I like it a lot, I think. Please keep it?”

He hummed, “But you won’t even look at me.”

“It’s a lot to take in, okay? It’s like, ugh remember when you saw me in my wedding dress?”

He'd never forget, he had cried like a baby. “This is nothing like that,” he rolled his eyes.

“It’s... give me some time. Small steps.” Bringing up a shaky hand to touch his soft fuzzy jaw, “Oh! Remember that time I bought that forties style nightie. And you went to town on me?” looking up at him, “This is like that.”

He nodded, finally understanding. “I get it, doll. But I’m afraid I don’t have time for ‘small steps’. I missed you so much,” Rutting his erection into your belly - as if to physically prove it. “And I need to make your birthday special. Treat the birthday girl right, huh?” He pressed his thumb on your cheekbone, caressing it, dipping his neck down to kiss you but you pulled away.

You hugged him again, standing on your tippy toes and nuzzling your nose in the crook his neck, his beard tickling you ever so slightly.

“I thought you wouldn’t make it. That I’d be all alone.” You whined. And then he comes back looking this good! Making it impossible for you to stay mad at him.

“Of course, I made it. Couldn’t let my best girl be alone. Now let me kiss you,” you shook your head again, “fine then. We can do your small steps. Let me eat you out,” biting the shell of your ear, “I’m hungry, doll.”

There was no way you could say no to that. “Oh - okay,” you gulped a huge lump of air.

Suddenly, he swept you off your feet, throwing you over his shoulder, his hand kneading your ass before smacking it, “Missed this sweet ass too.” he said, throwing you on top of the mattress. “I like this shirt on you, pup,” he smiled, his heart swelled as he felt strangely possessive of you, hovering above you, “But it had to come off.”

With a lack of finesse, his greedy hands ripped the poor clothing to shreds. He hadn’t gone so long without you. He needed to be inside you as soon as he could.

“Stevie!” You tried to chastise him.

He threw the shirt away, growling at the sight of your naked breasts, your hard pebbles, your hands coming up to cover them from his dark eyes. That won’t do, he pulled them away, pinning them beside your head. “What do you think you’re doing?” he frowned

You shuddered. Really, a beard shouldn’t make that much of a significant difference but it made him all the more intimidating. “Sorry, daddy.” You pouted. If nothing else, the D-word always worked.

He shook his head, capturing a nipple in his mouth, grazing it with his teeth. He made sure to run his beard over your breast. Letting go of your twisting hand as it clenched on the back of his head. Your back arching, pushing more your body to him.

With a loud ‘pop’ he let go of your hard nub, shoving two fingers in your mouth and ordering you to suck and like he obedient doll you were - you followed.

He pulled his fingers out, snaking his hand between your legs, dipping them in your heat. Then he noticed it and frowned.

Looking to his side, a sack of flour? No, looked fluffy enough to be cotton. “What is this?” he wanted to know.

You were too far gone to even register his words but you vaguely heard him. You bit your lip, following his eyes. “Oh, that’s Mister Steebie.”

“What?”

“That’s you. I missed you and I needed a cuddle buddy. So I stuffed some cotton in a sack, dressed him in your flannel and drew your face on him.”

His 'face' was just two dots with a blue sharpie, golden hair on his head and a pink mouth. “It’s cute.” he chuckled, grabbing ‘Steebie' and putting him on the floor, “But you don’t need him. You have the real thing now,” he reminded you, trailing kisses down your body, pushing your thighs apart to make room for him and settling between them.

“I suppose I should upgrade him now. Draw the beard on. I wonder if I have a brown sharpie,” you mused, yelping when you felt his teeth grazing over your clit. “God!” you heaved, propping yourself up on your elbows you looked down at him. A few strands of his hair had fallen on his forehead, he looked ethereal. “You’re so pretty, Stevie.” Your hand caressing his face.

He leaned into it, having been touch starved for over a month. “You’re the pretty one, pup. Now, will you be good for me? Let me treat my birthday girl right?”

You nodded. Laying back down, running your fingers through his longer locks.

“Did you touch yourself while I was gone?” he asked

“No, I followed your rules.”

“Good, I didn’t either.” Not that he had the time or space to anyway. But he wanted to save himself for you.

“Thor told me, women like a nice thick beard,” rubbing his face on your inner thighs, “he’s a bit of an oversharer. But I knew you’d like it too. Guess I was right.” He was smug about it too. He knew you inside and out. More than anybody else, maybe more than you know yourself.

He pushed your thighs apart as you squirmed above him, trying to clamp them on his head. “Now, sweetheart. I thought you promised to be good. Do I need to tie you up?”

You furiously shook your head. “No, please! I’ll be good.” Normally, you’d love to be tied up. But you needed to touch him, his face and his hair.

“I know it’s hard, pup, just try a little harder,” He tongue nudging at your entrance. His fingers spreading your lips apart, “such a pretty pussy,” he praised.

Wrapping his mouth around your clit and pushing his fingers in your pussy. He made sure to gather as much of your slick over his beard as he could, to make a mess of it.

You threw your head back, trying your best to stay still, it was too overwhelming, too good, “Stevie! Stop, stop please,” you begged, pulling on his hair.

He immediately pulled away, hovering back over you, inspecting you for any distress.

“I want to come with you inside me. Please.” you said, fluttering your lashes.

He sighed, “Don’t scare me like that.”

“Come on! It’s my birthday. You have to do as I say,” you giggled.

“As you wish,” he shook his head. He would’ve given in even if it wasn’t your birthday.

His fingers scrambling to get his dick out of his suit. Kissing your neck, sucking on your special spot, he pushed inside you. Digging his fingers in your hips, he bit your neck, “So fucking tight, doll.” He groaned, he was at the end of his rope, he couldn’t take it anymore, snapping his hips with a swift thrust he buried himself inside you.

“Stevie,” you mewled, feeling his tip pressing against your special spot. “Right there!”

Pulling his cock out and then pushing back, “Here?” he wiggled his hips, pressing his lips to your jaw.

“Yeah,” you gave a shaky reply. Already on the edge as he kept ramming in on your g-spot. “Steve, kiss me please?” You needed to feel his lips on yours, to feel his beards on your face.

Circling a hand under your waist to pull you up and closer to him, his hips setting a punishing pace, he crashed his lips on yours. Clashing your teeth together. He moaned as you pulled his bottom lip with your teeth, before kissing him again.

Letting go of his lips, just for a second to pepper kisses all over his beard and then kissing him deeply.

You clenched around his length, pulling his hair, biting the hilt to his jaw to stifle your scream. Waves of pleasure crashing over you one after another.

He came right after you, with a few more thrusts, filling you to the brim. He collapsed on top of you, careful not to crush you.

He laid beside you, on his side your bodies still connected. He couldn’t have any of his spend escaping your tight cunt.

He kissed the crown of your head. “You liked your first gift?” he asked as you hummed. “Don’t worry, I got plenty more for you.” he smirked already feeling himself get hard again in your pussy.

When you were quiet for a while, so unusual for you, your fingers playing with his beard, “What’s wrong, pup?” He tilted your face up so he could see it.

“Nothing,” you shook your head. Suddenly feeling guilty for ruining your precious pictures. “They need you more than I ever will - your team and this world.”

“That’s... true. You don’t need me. You’re a strong woman, if anything I need you. But that’s a good thing, sweetheart. You want me. And that's enough for me.”

“Really?” Your lips curling up in a big grin as you nuzzled his beard, feeling awfully proud of yourself.

Steve’s heart was big enough to share him with the entire world. That he could still love you more than you could even begin to comprehend. And always make his way back to you. You wouldn’t have it any other way.

Tags will be in the reblog! Click the link in the bio to be join the taglist or shoot me an ask/dm.

Comments and reblogs are really appreciated! ❤❤

[spenciegoob]

Triple Edged Sword Part 1

A/N: Hi ! This is going to be a 3 part mini series and oml I AM SO EXCITED. I haven’t written for 6 years so the updates are most definitely going to be generously spaced out. Anyways let’s get into it.

Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader

Category: Smut.. so smutty, and a dash of fluff

Content Warning: sub!spencer, domfem!reader masturbation (female), penetrative sex, hand job, scratching, hair pulling, slapping

Series Masterlist

Masterlist

Word Count: 3.3k

Part Two | Part Three

____

When Spencer Reid looked at her, his eyes were so kind and filled with so much love for someone that had so much pain behind them. He never thought it was possible to love someone as much as he loved her. His puppy dog eyes served as a reminder to both of them of just how innocent the doctor was.

Spencer hated it. Being the brunt of Derek’s virgin jokes made him want to scream from the rooftops, or a little more civilized, tell him he had a girlfriend.

His girlfriend, however, she loved his curious eyes. The way his pupils would dilate when he looked at every inch of her or his eyes would almost double in size whenever she stripped in front of him. 

It was absolutely infatuating. 

Every time Spencer looked at her, it was like the first time. He couldn’t get enough, and through time he found something else he loved about her body each time he saw it.

He had his doubts for sure, his insecurities sneaking up on him late in the night after she leaves his arms and goes home, but as time progressed, his doubts faded into nothing more than a distant memory when it came to her.

She held the world in her hands, but instead of being selfish and keeping it all for herself, she shared it with him.

Like right now, as she pushed him back until his knees hit the bed and he fell onto the soft cushion with a slight bounce. Already, Spencer was growing hard with anticipation.

“You’ve been a very bad boy today, Spencer.” Even as she scolded him (in the hottest way, may Spencer add), he still looked up at her with the adoration that made it almost impossible to punish him.

Almost impossible.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. Please.” What Spencer was pleading for? Not even he knew, but his right hand going to touch her waist gave both of them some idea.

The involuntary act was just as quickly shut down as it started as she backed away and tutted at him.

“Ah, ah, ah Spencer, that is not how we ask for things.” The faux disappointment on her face only made the pleading look on his deepen.

“I’m sorry, miss, it won’t happen again.”

His apology and admission got him the pleasure of her stepping between his parting legs. Spencer didn’t even realize he was doing it. It was as if his body knew how to react to her trance faster than his brain could process. 

She softly grasped his jaw, tilting his head back so he had no choice but to make eye contact with her intimidating stare. A soft whimper escaped his lips at even the smallest physical contact. Her touch was electrifying, and he simply couldn’t get enough.

“What am I going to do with you?” Her hand slowly left his jaw, meeting the other one at the top button on his work shirt. Her gaze still bore into him as her fingers worked swiftly to remove his shirt.

That’s what it was about her that intrigued him beyond belief. Every move she made was calculated, meticulous in and out of the bedroom. Maybe that was his reason for looking at her with so much infatuation. 

Once Spencer’s shirt was completely unbuttoned, she gave him a form of release when she broke eye contact to stare at his now bare chest. Her eyes scanned every inch of exposed skin.

She loved his body. His frame a sculpture that would put famed artists to shame. Her favorite part, however, was when she dragged her fingernails down his torso.

Starting at his jugular, she lightly scratched all the way down to the waistband of his slacks that were becoming tighter right before her eyes. 

She couldn’t focus on that, however. Her focus was on the small red lines that she left in her wake as she softly clawed at his chest. Spencer marked so easy that she couldn’t stop herself from giving him a new one every chance she got.

She didn't need Spencer’s eidetic memory to know what the scene in front of her looked like. His muscles tense under her nails, a new one each time she inched further down. If she closed her eyes, the feeling could serve as her sight like their own special brail.

But she couldn’t close her eyes, not when she got to stare at those lines.

When she finally reached the end of her journey, she pulled her hand away causing Spencer to let out a whiny moan. The sound was music to her ears, and it almost made her give into him right then and there.

Almost made her give in.

“Not yet, baby boy. You haven’t even gotten your punishment for tonight.” This made Spencer let out another hushed whimper. 

“Please Y/N, I need you.” Again, Spencer reached his hand to her waist, but this time, he made contact.

He expected her to grab his jaw like last time, or even pull away from his grasp, but to his surprise, she did neither.

It wasn’t until Spencer opened his hooded eyes completely to look at her face did she move.

No, not move; pounce.

The second his eyes met hers, she forcefully gripped the hair on the back of his head and yanked back hard.

The sudden contact caused Spencer’s eyes to roll back, and a pathetic moan to leave his mouth that was permanently wide open.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” She asked through gritted teeth. Even she surprised herself at the sudden dominance, but with Spencer in front of her with barely open eyes and an eager mouth, god did she love it. And apparently so did he, but at the same time, only one thought clouded his mind.

He was fucked. So utterly fucked.

“I-.. I-” At his stuttering, she quickly released his hair with the softest push, only to bring that same palm to the side of his face.

The loud SMACK! replayed over and over in his head as his hips bucked up involuntary. 

Oh.

He liked this more than she thought. Sure, they’ve been a little rough in bed before, their roles always the same. She was there to be pleased, and Spencer was there to please, but she didn’t know how far that line went. 

Spencer on the other hand was turned on more than he had ever been. His cock so painfully hard under the constrictions of his work slacks that if he didn’t get some relief soon, he may burst into tears.

Spencer was still facing the left, his eyes closed and trying to control his heavy breathing. That didn’t pass in her book.

She grabbed his jaw again, this time with much more force, and brought their faces inches apart. 

“I want you on your knees at the foot of the bed. Do not take your eyes off the wall in front of you, and don’t even think about touching yourself. Sit on your god damn hands if you have to. Do you understand me?” Her words came out so smooth, the calm before the storm.

Spencer nodded his head in response, but when the grip on his jaw tightened, he squeaked out “Yes ma’am.”

She released him, and immediately Spencer was on the move, crawling to where he was instructed to go. She watched closely, making sure he followed her directions to a T.

As his eyes settled on the wall the headboard rested against, she smiled and called out.

“Good boy.” The name made Spencer’s heart flutter and his cock twitch. Now with nothing more to focus on than the wall in front of him did he start to really feel the effects of his neediness. 

Whatever she did next would be the death of him.

And boy, was he right!

Out of his peripherals, Spencer could see her start to undress herself. Her eyes only left his for a second to pull her shirt over her head, but Spencer didn’t dare use that split second to take a peak. He was already in enough pain shit to last him a lifetime. 

But then she turned around, and he can barely hear the sound of her jeans being unzipped over the blood rushing through his ears. 

‘Oh god, Spencer. Whatever you do, do not look,’ he thought to himself, and continuously repeated as she pulled her jeans down slowly. Bending down all the way, her ass on full display, Spencer could see that she was wearing her dark purple lacy thong.

His favorite.

She wasn’t even facing him. How could she possibly tell if he snuck a glance in her direction. It would be over in a second, like ripping off a band-aid, like pulling the trig-

‘No, she’ll know don’t do it.” Spencer’s thoughts were correct. If he were to look, she would turn around to find him blushing a deep shade of red that spread from his neck to his cheeks, and his eyes fully blown. So, with all of his strength and by the force of God, he kept his eyes firmly on the wall. It never looked so dull until right now.

As she slowly came back to a standing position, she turned over her shoulder to see Spencer demonstrating the most self control she’s ever seen. A proud smirk spread across her face, and she finally stalked her way over to the bed slowly.

Spencer felt his palms start to get sweaty from nerves, excitement, arousal and desperation as her body came closer to his direct line of sight. His breathing had become heavy again, and his cock twitched painfully.

When Spencer had his gun drawn on unsubs, he got tunnel vision, but right now when he needed it, that ability seemed to disappear into thin air.

What a cruel magic trick.

Once she was settled with her back resting against the headboard did she speak.

“You can look now, baby boy.” The sight in front of him almost made him come undone right then and there.

Almost made him.

She was sitting up, her arms on either side of her body, her knees were bent, and her legs were wide open. Spencer could see the wet patch from her gathering arousal on her panties, and involuntarily licked his lips.

“Your punishment is the following,” she started as she slowly hooked her fingers under the waistband of her panties. Lifting her hips to start to shimmy them down her legs, she continued, “You’re going to sit there real pretty for me, and you’re going to watch me pleasure myself. You’re not going to look away, close your eyes and most definitely you are not going to touch yourself. Am I making myself clear?”

He was not going to make that mistake again, so instead of nodding he immediately replied with, “Yes ma’am.”

She balled her discarded panties in her hand, and sat up from the incriminating position. As she shimmied her way over to Spencer on her knees, he gulped in anticipation.

“Open up, baby boy.” If she called him that, he would do anything she ever asked him to. 

Spencer opened his mouth and slightly stuck his tongue out with a small idea of what was going to come next.

Even with the knowledge of her next move, when the lace of her panties hit his tongue, he couldn’t stop the groan that left him at the contact.

“Don’t wanna hear from you no matter how pretty those sounds are,” she seduced as she stroked his cheek.

Once he was now settled with the makeshift gag and clouded mind, she returned to her compromising position, her pussy on full display for Spencer’s ogling.

She started by softly grasping one of her breasts over the thin lace bra. Her head rolled back at the new sensation, a breathy sigh leaving her parted lips. She kneaded the flesh before added her other hand, squeezing both before pushing them together.

Spencer could only watch in awe as she played with herself the way he wish he could right now. The small whimpers leaving his body were muffled thanks to the gag, and she couldn’t hear them over her own heavy breathing.

When she reached her hands behind her back, and unclasped the bra, Spencer had to forcefully sit on his hands to stop himself from touching either one of them.

She was a goddess on full display, her body had to have been sculpted by the Gods above because no one had the right to be so perfect.

Nobody but her.

The same way she had done to Spencer in what felt like centuries ago, she ran her nails down her torso, only this time she didn’t stop. Her fingers slowly met her aching core, and a moan slipped from her lips at the contact.

She kept her touch featherlight, just enough to gather her arousal on her fingertips. She brought her hand back up to her clit and added more pressure as she circled it slowly.

The soft moans leaving her body were enough for Spencer, but he couldn’t take his eyes off the sight in front of him even if he was allowed to. Her pussy was glistening under the soft light from the bedside lamp, her hair was messily sprawled out around her like a halo, and her body had started to get a light sheen of sweat. 

After another minute of teasing her clit, she finally stuck two fingers in her core, her back arching off the bed and letting out the loudest, filthiest moan yet as she did.

“Fuck, baby. It feels so good.” She looked to Spencer to gage his reaction, and found him bright red and hyper focused on where her fingers met her pussy.

Satisfied, she started to slowly pump her fingers in and out of her, curling them to hit her sweet spot each time. Her stomach started to tighten, her impending orgasm arriving faster than usual.

Spencer was a whiny, horny mess on the other side of the bed. He was so painfully hard, and he was sure if he looked, there would be a spot on his boxers from his pre-cum.

Her fingers starting to pump faster, and her other hand gave her breast one last squeeze before traveling down to meet her clit. She rubbed harsh circles in time with her fingers and threw her head back in pleasure as she did so.

“Oh god, I’m gonna- fuck I’m gonna come,” she breathily called out. Her moans getting louder by the second, the coil in her stomach finally snapped.

“Spencer! Oh god!” She screamed as her back arched off the bed, and she came around her fingers. Her finger rubbing circles on her clit started to slow down as her loud moaning turned to heavy breathing.

Spencer’s eyes were almost black as he stared down at her. When she came undone, it was the most beautiful thing in the world to him.

Once her muscles stopped spasming, she relaxed her body and finally looked back at Spencer.

“You did so well, baby boy.” The praise made Spencer’s knees even more weak. Slowly, she crawled her way over to him and removed the panties from his mouth. He tried his best to control his breathing, but each exhale came out jagged and broken.

“Can I touch you now?” He asked timidly and this only made her smile.

“Yes, baby boy. You can to-” She didn’t get to finish her sentence because the second the word yes left her mouth, Spencer’s lips were on hers.

The kiss was sloppy and uncalculated, but there was so much passion and love behind every movement. When she grasped the waistband of his slacks and pulled his clothed body against her naked one, Spencer let out a gasp that allowed her to stick her tongue in his mouth. 

She explored every inch of his mouth with hers and he couldn’t get enough. The kiss was intoxicating, pulling him deeper into her trance.

When she pulled away, biting his bottom lip and pulling it back slightly with her, Spencer let out a whine.

“You’re wearing too many clothes,” she said as she pushed his unbuttoned shirt down his arms. Once that was off, she worked on his belt, pulling it out of the loops and throwing it to the floor impatiently.

Once his pants were unbuttoned, she wasted no time reaching in and grasping his cock.

Spencer let out a pornographic moan at the sensation, throwing his head back and closing his eyes.

“What do you want, baby boy,” she asked as she continued her ministrations, slowly pumping her hand up and down. Panting now, Spencer did his best to answer.

“Y-you.. Y/N. I want you,” Spencer whined as he started to pat her arm that was in his pants. He looked back down at her with so much desperation and lust, there was no almost this time.

She gave in.

“Only because you’ve been such a good boy for me.” The praise caused Spencer to whimper, and she finally pulled his trousers and boxers down. His cock sprang free, and hit his stomach proudly. The tip was beet red and pre-cum was slowly dripping down the side. It looked painfully delicious.

“Lay down on you back, baby.” Spencer did as told, his head hitting the pillows and he fisted the sheets.

She climbed on top of him, straddling his hips. When she grabbed the base of his cock, Spencer winced and his hands shot up to grasp her hips. She didn’t stop him this time. She ran his tip through her folds teasing him, the evidence of her previous orgasm spreading around it.

Slowly, she sank down, both of them throwing their heads back and moaning at the sensation. She didn’t stop until she was at the hilt, him fully sheathed in her. She took a minute to adjust before lifting her hips excruciatingly slow.

“You feel so fucking good, baby.” When all that was left was the tip inside her, she slammed her hips back down. Spencer groaned, his grip on her hips tightening. 

Her slow pace continued, teasing him just enough to get him to pat her hips again like he did earlier.

“Please Y/N, please faster.” How could she say no to that tone of voice?

She started to move her hips with feverish intent, both of their stomachs tightening as they slowly ran towards the edge together.

Spencer didn’t know where to look. He could watch the way his cock disappeared into her tight cunt, or the way her breasts bounced in his face in time with her hips, or her blissed out face, mouth wide open and eyes hooded.

All of it brought him closer and closer to the edge.

“F-fuck, Y/N, I’m gonna.. I’m gonna...”

“Me too, baby. Come for me.” With her permission, his hips thrust up to meet hers as he shoots his cum deep in her. The sensation was the final push, and she followed immediately after, milking him of everything he could give.

She collapsed on his sweaty chest, both of them heavy panting, but neither willing to move.

“I love you so much.” She said it so simply, but still it made Spencer’s heart flutter. They’ve said it so many times, but every time he still got giddy.

“I love you too,” he said and kissed the top of her head. They could’ve fallen asleep just like that, because it didn’t matter how sticky with sweat their body was, or the very compromising position they were still in.

They were in each other’s arms, and that was everything for both of them.

____

Join a taglist here Tell me your thoughts on this part here Have a request? Send it in here

[nugnthopkns]

dance me to the end of love (i)

word count: 4.3k

warnings: fem!oc, cursing, potential spoilers for the west wing if you've never seen the show

series masterpost: here

a/n: hi!! i am so incredibly happy to finally be putting this fic out into the world. it means an awful lot to me and i can't wait to share the little world i've created :)) x

Magdalene is content with where she’s ended up.

Denver is wonderful. Her friends are there, her cat is there, and it’s the perfect place for a fresh start. She arrived in the city nearly six years ago – a wide-eyed University of Denver freshman and has stayed put ever since. Her hometown of Aspen holds a few too many bad memories, but is close enough that she can return if an emergency calls for it. So far she hasn’t left, too engrossed in finishing her degree and moving on. There’s a job offer lined up with the university’s library upon graduation that Magdalene is ecstatic about. It means she gets to stay right where she is – where she’s comfortable.

☼☼☼☼

The sun might be shining as she exits her apartment building, but it’s cold for March. Magdalene pulls the thick scarf her best friend Bette got her for Christmas higher up her face and walks as quickly as possible to campus. There’s a brief meeting to attend with her advisor before grabbing lunch with Bette, and then her plan is to spend the rest of the day holed up in the library working on her thesis. It’s due in two weeks, with the defence in just over a month, and Magdalene is incredibly nervous. Though she’d gone through submitting her undergraduate thesis two years ago, presenting her master’s research was going to be a lot harder. She’s heard through the grapevine that the committees are being tough this year and she doesn’t want to fail.

Dr. Williams is waiting for her in his office with a smile on his face. He’s a tall man, with thin facial features and wire glasses that box him perfectly into the intimidating professor stereotype. “Miss Stevenson, please sit,” he gestures to the chair across from him.

“Gerald,” she sighs, “You can call me Magdalene, I don’t mind. Besides, it makes you quite the hypocrite if you insist I call you by your first name but you won’t use mine.” There’s no malice in her voice, just a decent amount of teasing.

The older man scoffs but concedes. “I suppose you’re right. Well then Magdalene, tell me, how are your final edits coming along?”

Magdalene spends nearly twenty minutes detailing all the elements she has tweaked since their last meeting, from the title to the citation style. She’s out of breath by the time she’s done, rambling at an impressive speed, and takes a big gasp of air while the professor mulls over her words. Dr. Williams doesn’t say anything, causing Magdalene to shift anxiously in her seat. “Sir, is there something wrong?”

He shakes his head. “Absolutely nothing,” he beams, “Everything is perfect. It’s a shame you don’t want to continue researching. You’d make a fabulous academic.”

The compliment makes Magdalene’s heart soar. It means a lot, especially coming from the person who has seen her cry over the oxford comma. “Thank you sir, but I belong in the practical realm. Someone has to file all the documents you obsessively scan.”

She leaves the building soon after, promising to stop by after she drops off the final draft in a few weeks. It’s a bit later than she expected and hopes Bette won’t be mad. There’s nothing the blonde hates more than poor time management, but Magdalene prays she’ll understand. It wasn’t that long ago and Bette was scheduling her own appointments with advisors on how to graduate. Barn Owl Book Company is located halfway between the school and her apartment, making it the perfect spot to meet. In addition to being a used book store, Barn Owl sports one of the best cafés in downtown Denver. Bette is perched delicately at her friend’s favourite seat, a bay window converted into a small nook, and typing furiously on her phone.

“Sorry I’m late,” Magdalene apologizes, “Williams talked a lot more than I expected him to.”

Bette looks up and smiles, shoving a cup in the other girl’s direction. “As always. How is he?”

Sliding into the booth, Magdalene fills her friend in on what’s been going on in their former professor’s life. Bette graduated with a minor in Classics, and it was Magdalene's major, but the former decided not to further her education and is instead doing full time charity work for the Colorado Avalanche. Her boyfriend Tyson is one of their star players, and the two of them are so smitten it makes Magdalene sick. Conversation quickly turns from school to life, which she’s grateful for.

“So,” Bette says, “Are you in for the trip this summer? I’ve got to confirm the reservation in a week or something.”

“I don’t know Bee, I'm going to be the new girl. Asking for time off like two months into the job would be rude.”

“Linny,” the blonde whines, “Please? I want you to come.”

Magdalene scowls. Bette knows just how much the nickname sours her mood but she chose to use it anyway. “Don’t call me that,” she snaps with quite a bite. “Can someone else take my spot if I decide not to go a little closer to the date?”

“Of course! Gravy said he’d fill an extra spot if one comes up so we don’t lose the deposit,” Bette blabs before trying to switch gears entirely. Magdalene cuts her off.

“Who’s Gravy?”

If her friend is exasperated by Magdalene’s lack of knowledge surrounding hockey, she doesn’t show it. Bette calmly explains that Gravy, who’s real name is Ryan, is a defenceman with the Avalanche and a good friend of Tyson’s. She also makes a point of mentioning that he’s single, to which Magdalene rolls her eyes. Bette has a masterplan for her life – which includes her best friend becoming romantically involved with an Avalanche player so the two of them can live the better half life together. As the best friend, Magdalene is constantly barraged with potential players who are looking to date. Once she went on a few dates with Mikko, but that ended fairly quickly when the two realized they were better as friends. Every time since she’s turned Bette down as gently as possible, not wanting to get involved with anyone. Her life is just starting, and Magdalene wants to be secure before settling down.

The conversation eventually shifts to what Magdalene plans to wear for both her thesis defence and graduation. Bette is fashion savvy, while Magdalene is decidedly not. Her everyday wardrobe consists of collared button-downs and sweater vests, which is supposedly never going to back a comeback, according to Bette at least. The blonde eventually wears Magdalene down, and secures a position as stylist for the graduation ceremony. There was an attempt at the thesis defence, but the other girl insists she needs to be as comfortable as possible on such a stressful occasion.

A glance to the clock on the opposite wall has Magdalene stretching her arms and giving an apologetic glance to her friend on the other side of the table. “I should go,” she says. “I’ve got to put in some serious work on my citations today, and you know Caligula doesn’t like it when I’m gone all day.”

Bette rolls her eyes, but there isn’t any frustration behind the gesture. “I swear to god Mags, your cat has more separation anxiety than I do. Speaking of, I’m supposed to pick Tyson up at the airport and I’m running behind.”

“Tell him I say hi,” Magdalene says as she wraps her arms around Bette for a quick hug.

The two girls part ways on the sidewalk, with Magdalene heading back to campus and Bette sliding into the sleek Audi she shares with her boyfriend. Headphones find their way into her ears, and Magdalene listens to a random comedy podcast. Once tucked safely inside the library she’ll put on her favourite lo-fi playlist and concentrate, but for now she just enjoys the funny anecdotes of stories past.

It’s quiet in the library for a Tuesday, though Magdalene isn’t complaining. Her favourite table, the one she swears up and down is the only reason she ever gets anything done, is open, and she all but sprints to place her bag on the worn leather chair. While setting up her work station a few of the librarians come over to offer their congratulations for her upcoming job. News certainly travels fast around here, Magdalene thinks, but accepts their generosity with a smile on her face. They leave her alone soon enough and the tedious work of double checking the formatting of every single citation in the sixty-five page paper begins.

Hours pass, and Magdalene stays working in the library until as late as she possibly can. Caligula is going to start to worry about the length of her absence soon and his anxiety response of knocking over plants is not a mess she feels like cleaning up. She packs up her laptop and walks the short distance home as fast as possible.

“Little boots, I’m home,” Magdalene parrots in a sing-song voice as she slips her jacket off her shoulders and onto the hanger. At the sound of his nickname, the small cat bounds into the entryway. “Hi darling, did you miss me?” Magdalene gets an obnoxiously loud purr in response that she takes it as a yes. She reaches down to pick up the tiny animal before continuing further into the apartment, scratching behind his ears as she does so. The two of them settle into the respectably sized couch, where they stay for the rest of the night watching reruns of The West Wing before Magdalene falls asleep.

☼☼☼☼

“You fucking did it!” Bette shrieks as she bounds towards her best friend. Magdalene braces herself for the oncoming assault, and manages to keep them both upright after Bette jumps into her arms.

Her thesis defence had just finished, and the committee found Magdalene a worthy candidate for the Master of Information Science qualification. The presentation itself was open to the public, so Bette and Tyson sat in the front row to support Magdalene, but were escorted out for the conversation that followed. The two girls had developed a code so the news could be shared in a subtle way, though Bette threw the original plan out the window as soon as she saw her friend give a sneaky thumbs up when the conference room door opened.

“Congrats Mags,” Tyson says sincerely, doing his best not to add to the growing spectacle, but Magdalene can tell he wants to give her a bone crushing hug.

“Thank you,” she smiles softly, “And thank you guys for coming. It means a lot.” As two of her closest friends, both Bette and Tyson know that her family situation is rocky at best, and having them act as her support system means more than she’ll ever be able to articulate.

The couple shares a knowing look before engulfing their friend in a hug. “We’re always going to be here for you,” Bette whispers, “No matter what.”

Magdalene’s smile is so genuine it crinkles her eyes as she wraps her arms around Bette and Tyson’s shoulders and leads them out the door and into the sunshine. The group continues to the parking lot, where they climb into Tyson’s car and drive off campus in the direction of Magdalene’s favourite restaurant. Though she had tried to convince her friends they didn’t need to celebrate, she failed, and Magdalene soon finds herself laughing hysterically over a plate of carbonara as Tyson tells a story about the shenanigans the team got up to on their last road trip.

There’s a game tonight, and Bette has somehow convinced her into attending. Magdalene knows she should go, expand her social horizons a little, but all she wants to do is curl up in bed and sleep for three weeks. Her one condition is that she can go home straight after the game without being guilted into following the group to whatever nightclub they’ll celebrate the win or drink away the loss in. Tyson has to get ready so he drops the two girls off at Magdalene's apartment complex. She’s in charge of getting Bette to the rink, and she’ll leave with her boyfriend after the game.

Once inside the confines of her home, Magdalene promptly lies on the floor. “Holy shit,” she sighs, “I did it. I fucking did it.”

“You did!” Bette says as she lies down beside her best friend. “I’m so fucking proud of you, and Tyson is too. Even if he won’t tackle you in public to prove it.”

The comment garners a laugh from Magdalene, which alerts Caligula to the presence of others in the apartment. He pads over the rug currently being occupied by two adults, and snuggles into the small space between them. Bette and Magdalene continue to lay there, petting the cat and looking back fondly on all the times Magdalene called her friend in tears because she didn’t think she could push herself any farther. Bette was always there to pick up the slack, editing whatever section Magdalene was working on or to bring over a hot meal. Her support earned her the top spot in the acknowledgements section of the thesis.

Ball Arena is already crawling with people when Magdalene pulls into the small lot for player’s and their families. Normally she parks with the general public, but Bette insists they watch this game from the better halves box, and these spaces are closer to that entrance.

“Stop dragging your feet,” the blonde chastises as Magdalene takes her time cutting the engine. “I want to get a glass of rosé before they sell out.”

Sighing, Magdalene follows her orders. “Don’t you have a special bar in the box?” she asks while locking the car.

“Yeah, but the other girls are absolute fiends. They’ll drink it all before we get there with no remorse.”

The girls climb the stairs to the better halves box, Bette chatting excitedly about the game, but Magdalene stops just before the entrance. She’s met most of the others on multiple occasions and has nothing to worry about, but she can’t help but feel anxious. Her life is so different than everyone else’s in the space, and it feels like cheating when she’s there because she isn’t romantically involved with anyone on the roster. Bette likes to joke that she’s her better half, but Magdalene knows it’s said just to calm her nerves.

“It’ll be fine,” Bette whispers while squeezing her hand, “And if you get too uncomfortable we can find some seats in the nosebleeds.”

Once inside Magdalene’s nerves dissipate. Most of the other wives and girlfriends pay her no mind, but the ones that are especially close to Bette congratulate her on passing her defence. It warms her heart a little, and the small group Magdalene finds herself in settles down to watch the game unfold.

It’s a fairly intense one between Colorado’s division rival St. Louis. Both teams are fighting for first place in the conference, and a win for the Avalanche would put them three points ahead of the Blues instead of one. Players from both sides are amped up, and more than once a scrum at the net has turned into a dog-pile. Colorado is outplaying the other team, but have still managed to find themselves a goal short heading into the final period. At the buzzer Tyson takes the face-off and is immediately shoved by a member of the opposite team. He goes down hard, and Bette squeezes Magdalene’s hand so tightly she fears it will lose blood flow. Silence falls over the arena as Tyson doesn’t immediately get up. The inside of lip finds its way between her teeth and Magdalene bites down hard, worried about her friend. She’s so focussed on Tyson that she doesn’t notice a fight breaking out.

“Holy shit, Gravy is going to town!”

The remark is made by someone Magdalene recognizes as Gabe Landeskog’s wife, and it makes her peel her eyes off of Bette’s worried features and scan the ice for some action. Sure enough, a very tall man is laying right hooks to someone who looks significantly smaller than him on the Avalanche blue line. The referees let the fight continue until Tyson drags himself off the ice and onto the bench before separating the men and throwing them in the penalty box. Magdalene can tell words are still being exchanged from both sides of the glass, but she’s more focussed on the fact Tyson doesn’t make his way to the dressing room – a good sign that allows Bette to drop her hand and let out a shaky breath.

Nothing of great importance happens until MacKinnon ties the game with seven minutes left. It happens while the Avalanche are short handed, and the goal seems to light a fire beneath the team. Magdalene may not know much about hockey, but she’s smart enough to notice the insane amount of energy all the players suddenly have. Time ticks by slowly and before she realizes it, the final face-off is taking place. Luckily it’s in the St. Louis zone and won by Colorado. The puck is tipped back to the same player who got in the fight for Tyson, Gravy, and he one times it right into the back of the net. The buzzer goes off not a second later, and the entire team piles on top of the player who just won them the game.

Bette and Magdalene join in the shrieks of the other partners, jumping from their seats in excitement. Eventually they make their way down to the hallway outside the locker room and lean against the brick while they wait for Tyson.

“You don’t have to stay,” Bette insists, “I can wait by myself.”

Magdalene shakes her head. “No way. I want to make sure he’s okay too. What good is a friend with a black eye?”

The other girl laughs at her friend’s stubbornness but doesn’t shoo her away. Once Magdalene has made a decision it’s hard to get her to sway from it, and Bette knows better than to push. Besides, who is she to deny her friend a bit more social interaction? Magdalene has spent the past six years practically holed up in the library and deserves to stand in a crowded hallway.

The friends chat idly while they wait, with Magdalene sharing some of the most ridiculous questions she got asked in her defence interview that morning. She’s mid story when Tyson exits the dressing flanked by a man dressed sharply in all black.

“Hey guys,” Tyson greets, dipping his head to place a kiss to Bette’s cheek before doing an elaborately goofy handshake with Magdalene.

“Good game baby,” Bette compliments sweetly. She then turns her attention to the boy standing awkwardly on the fringes. “You too Graves.”

He smiles shyly, muttering out a small thanks. It’s then he seems to notice the final member of the group, and offers his hand in greeting. “Hi, I’m Ryan.”

“Nice to meet you. I’m Magdalene.”

She puts two and two together on the walk to her car. The Ryan Magdalene just met is the same who will take her spot on the trip, fought someone in Tyson’s defence, and scored the game winning goal. Though they’ve only said a few words, she likes him. He seems genuine, and those people are the rarest to find.

☼☼☼☼

Magdalene is walking across a graduation stage for the final time in two days. However, she can’t find anyone to take the third ticket. The University of Denver has a stupid rule where all graduates must have three guests attend the ceremony. Bette and Tyson are obviously occupying two of Magdalene’s seats, but she’s having trouble filling the third.

“I can ask Tys if one of the guys is free,” Bette shrugs. The two girls are sitting in the window of Barn Owl drinking iced lattes and discussing what Magdalene should wear to the ceremony.

“It’s okay,” Magdalene says, “I don’t want to bother anyone. Maybe I’ll just ask June.”

Her friend’s eye roll so far back into her head Magdalene isn’t sure they won’t stay there. “You can’t ask your boss to watch you graduate Mags! Besides, Gravy owes Tyson a favour and was already looking for something to do. I’m sure he won’t mind wasting a few hours as long as he gets drinks out of it.”

There isn’t a better option, so even though she barely knows the guy, Magdalene agrees. “Make sure he gets this?" she sighs, handing her friend an envelope with a single ticket in it. "I have to go. Caligula should be done at the vet soon.”

“Say hello to little boots for me,” Bette giggles as she waves goodbye.

Hours later, tucked into her couch with a glass of wine in one hand and Caligula playing with the fingers on the other, Magdalene realizes she invited a complete stranger to her graduation and how that could be a terrible idea. Sure, Ryan sounds like a great guy from the way Bette and Tyson talk about him, but he’s only ever spoken three words to her. Since that game she’s gone out with the team a few times, but the man with the piercing stare is yet to make an appearance. Magdalene considers that perhaps he’s more like her than his profession gives him credit for, and she feels a twinge of guilt about being worried he’d cause a scene at the ceremony.

There isn’t any more time for her to fret over the third and final guest on the list. At the last minute Bette decides there’s nothing in Magdalene’s closet that’s suitable for her to wear, so a trip to a local second-hand store ensues. While it’s nice that her friend has taken their carbon footprints into consideration, Magdalene wishes it didn’t have to happen an hour and a half before the ceremony is supposed to start.

“We have to be there in twenty minutes Bette,” she frets, tapping her foot nervously against the tile flooring.

If they can’t find whatever it is Bette’s looking for, Magdalene will have to walk across the stage in denim cutoffs and a faded t-shirt with Neil Young’s face on it, which is something she’s hoping to avoid at all costs.

“Have no fear, Mags,” she says with a knowing glint in her eye, “For I have found it.” Bette holds up a hanger that is holding a beautiful long sleeve dress adorned with a whimsical floral print.

Magdalene can’t help the gasp that escapes from her. “It’s beautiful,” she breathes, “But let’s hope it fits.”

The dress does in fact fit, and the workers are kind enough to let her wear it out of the store. Bette drives at a speed that might not be the safest to travel at in downtown Denver, but she gets to the school with minutes to spare. She shoos her friends out of the car so she can go pick up Tyson and Ryan, and Magdalene checks in with little hassle. The pool of graduates is fairly small, so she chats with a few classmates while they wait for the call to put their gowns on. Time passes quicker than expected, and soon Magdalene is being directed to her seat. She zones out while the dean gives a congratulatory speech and they go through the first few names. At one point she looks backwards into the crowd to find Bette, Tyson, and Ryan all giving her a thumbs up. The nerves she didn’t even know she had settle.

A faculty member signals for Magdalene’s row to stand up, and she smoothes her dress before dutifully following the person in front of her. Giddiness bubbles in her stomach at the thought of being done school forever. A hand from the stage crew give a cue, and Magdalene appears on the stage as her accomplishment is broadcast through the microphone.

“Magdalene Stevenson is being awarded a Masters in Information Science in Archival Studies and Records Management.” It feels so good to finally be finished that she lets a tear slip as she shakes the hand of the staff member handing her the package with her diploma in it.

The rest of the ceremony passes in a blur, and before Magdalene knows it her friends are approaching to congratulate her. Bette and Tyson wrap her in a tight hug, murmuring praise in her ears. Ryan stands awkwardly to the side before Bette drags him into the celebration. The four of them stand in the courtyard where the ceremony was for much longer than needed. Bette is crying enough to refill Sloan Lake if there is ever a drought and is yet to let go of Magdalene’s figure.

It’s only when the event staff ask them to leave so they can tear down the stage does Magdalene turn to leave campus for the last time as a student. She’ll be back in a few weeks as an employee, but deep down she knows this is the last time she’ll ever feel such a deep connection to the place.

“Victory is mine, victory is mine! Great day in the morning people, victory is mine!” Magdalene yells, quoting Josh Lyman as she skips down the path towards Bette’s car.

Both Bette and Tyson are confused at the sudden outburst, not knowing what she’s talking about, but Ryan responds without missing a beat. “Should I bring you all the muffins and bagels in the land?” His response doesn’t clear anything up, but it elicits a giant smile from Magdalene, who laughs and nods in confirmation.

Sitting in the back of Bette’s Audi, on the way to a graduation party she’s supposed to know nothing about, Magdalene decides that she wants to get to know Ryan Graves better. From what she’s garnered from Bette and Tyson he’s a class act, standing up for friends and giving good advice. He likes The West Wing and showed up to a stranger’s graduation, so how bad can he be?

☼☼☼☼

additional notes: see what magdalene's graduation dress looks like here // the quote from the west wing is from 1.02 if you were curious!

☼☼☼☼

taglist: @scrunchmakar @marcoscandellas @toplinetommy (add yourself to the taglist!)

[peach-pops]

Famous S/O HC

This is very self-indulgent cause I’m the type to make up fake scenarios where I’m famous and going on interviews and press tours asfjdks. If you guys want, I’ll make more of these! Oikawa+Tsukishima underneath the cut!

How The Haikyuu Boys Find out that You’re Famous

-Bokuto- (Pro-Athlete) 

Bokuto knew you were an athlete but he had NO IDEA that you were super famous. Like he always thought it was normal for people to come up to you after your game to ask for pictures or autographs ??? 

I mean that’s why he was so drawn to you because of how much passion you had for your said sport cause duh he could relate

One day when you two were out at the mall, he told you that he needed to get new shoes to work out in and so the two of you went into the Nike store so he could look around

He was looking through the shoe aisle and after almost two hours of looking through the same shelves, he finally found a pair he liked (shopping with him is so time-consuming but that’s for a different day) 

when he found a pair he liked, the two of you made your way to the cashier to pay for his shoes. As the cashier was ringing Bokuto up, his eyes traveled up to the large poster/banner that was directly behind the cashier’s area and smiled to himself

It was a colorful promotional banner with a bunch of top athletes from around the world and as he’s looking at the banner, he sees this girl and he nudged you like,” Babe, she looks like you!” 

You look up from your phone and sure enough, you’re plastered on the wall posing with other athletes

“ Oh yeah, I didn’t think this shoot would come out until next month.”

Bokuto didn’t even process what you just said but my dude behind the cash register stopped scanning the shoes to turn his head to the banner and he turned PALE. 

He even does a double-take cause hold up, is there seriously a pro athlete in front of him?

“ Oh my god...You’re Y/N L/N!”

“ How do you know my…” Bokuto furrowed his eyebrows and looked at the banner again and he even squinted like hold up

AND IT ALL SUDDENLY CLICKS FOR HIM

“ Y/N? That’s you!” 

“ Yeah-”

Bokuto can’t even believe it and he totally spaced out when you take a selfie with the guy behind the register with the banner in the background like UMMM HIS GIRLFRIEND IS FAMOUS WHAAAAAA

“ YOU’RE ON A NIKE POSTER OH MY GOD! LOOK YOU’RE ON THIS MAGAZINE WHA-”

Dude is totally making a scene in this store but he does not give a single fuck

As he’s walking you back home, he’s looking up all of your stats and even watches a compilation called “ 100 times Y/N L/N was a beast!” and he’s just shooketh 

“WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL ME YOU WERE A FREAKING PRO ATHLETE??”  

“ I didn’t think it was a big deal I mean, you’re pretty famous too babe.” 

“ I DON’T HAVE A PROMOTIONAL BANNER WITH NIKE!” 

He’s not salty at all he’s just a bit emo cause he felt bad that he never even noticed before

As your fame grows, so does Bokuto’s with his volleyball career. You and him are described as a powerhouse couple and it really hypes the two of you up like THE POWER YALL POSSESS TOGETHER ON AND OFF THE COURT/FIELD/WHATEVER

Lots of training together and joint interviews together like Wired autocomplete or your favorite ~THIRST TWEETS~

“ ~Bokuto could spike a volleyball in my face, crack my nose in two different places, and I’d thank him~ oh my god that’s horrible I would never do that.”

“ I mean, you’ve done it before haven’t you?”

“ That was different anyway, your turn Y/N!” 

*passes that clunky ass bucket*

“ ~Y/N L/N, please tie me up and- oh my god this is too dirty I can’t! My mom will watch this!” 

If you’re a pro volleyball player, you two get compared a lot and it bugged you at first since you felt like you two were two very different in terms of playing style but after a while, you both started to encourage the idea of your own playful rivalries like comparing stats and wins

But if you’re in a different sport, you two get asked questions like who’s sport is harder or what it would be like if you two switched sports like??? But because you two are in different fields, you both have such major respect for each other cause you can’t even imagine how much hard work it is 

He absolutely does not mind it at all when fans approach you two if you guys are on a date. He knows how important your relationship with fans are, especially if they’re younger girls who look up to you as a role model

Bokuto will fall in love with you all over again whenever you crouch down to a younger fan ughhhghgh

He doesn’t care for the paparazzi to be honest. he knows it comes with the territory but he will get a bit protective if they start to get too close to you 

“ Hey, we’re just trying to get back home so just let us through please,” but if it continues, he will not give a single fuck about being nice,” dude, what did I just say? Back off!” 

Mad!bokuto will be the death of me

He knows how stressful it is being a pro athlete but he will always remind you how proud he is of you and if he ever sees you overworking, he will make sure you take a day off even if that means just napping together all day

Long story short, Bokuto would be amazing to have by your side as you’re navigating being in the public eye and you may quote me on that

-Oikawa- (Actress)

This attention whore I swear 

So Oikawa knows that you act but he doesn’t know that you’re an actress (which is basically the same thing) 

Like as a kid you were in commercials and you had a small role in a tv show but it wasn’t like it was super popular. 

But what Oikawa didn’t know was that a couple months before you two started dating, you were flown out to America to star in an upcoming and highly anticipated movie 

since you were under a contract, you weren’t allowed to talk about it until the trailer dropped and it ate away at you because all you wanted to do was tell people especially your boyfriend 

ANYWAY He decided to take you on a date to the movie theatre and as you two were getting popcorn, these girls came up to you two 

“ Hi! Is it okay if we can get a picture with you?”

“Of course, how could I ever turn down my lovely fans-”

“ No, not you, Y/N!” 

Oikawa is just flabbergasted as the girls hand their phone to him so he can take a photo of you with your fans he deadass thinks it’s some prank

After the girls left, he gave you a weird-ass gaze and asked you what that was about but you just shrugged and told him that maybe it was because of ur mini part in that one tv show

So he thinks nothing about it and teased you that it was so cute how you had a mini fanbase and you weren’t going to lie, it was pretty freaking cool 

You guys entered your theatre and got settled into your seats as the movie trailers started to play. 

(Oikawa loves watching trailers like this dude is the type to take you 45 minutes before the movie actually begins JUST to make sure he doesn’t miss anything)

As you’re chilling in your seat, you see the trailer to your movie so you do your best to keep your eyes on your boyfriend and the screen at the same time cause you want to see his reaction

The trailer plays and Oikawa seemed to be interested in the movie but again, it’s like any normal trailer UNTIL he hears your voice coming from the screen and he immediately sits up in his seat 

“ Wait- was that your voice?”

“ My voice?”

“ Nevermind, I think I’m going crazy-”

AND THEN HE SEES YOU ON THE SCREEN! Since it’s a trailer it was just about five seconds of an intense/dramatic scene but it’s enough for Oikawa to lose his mind

“ OH MY GOD THAT IS YOU!”

This prompts some people in the audience to shush him but Oikawa doesn’t care

“ OH SHUSH THAT’S MY GIRLFRIEND! Y/N! THAT’S YOU!”

“ Toru oh my god yes that’s me but stop screaming or they’re gonna kick us out!” You whispered loudly as Oikawa clamped his hand over his mouth 

He’s so happy and he’s beaming with pride so he pulls out his phone and  records the trailer to post it in his group chat cause duh he wants to show the boys how proud he is but when he sees you kissing someone else for .6 seconds, Oikawa just (ㆆ_ㆆ) and stops recording

“ Are you okay babe?”

“ Was that real or CGI?”

“ The building crumbling is all CGI-”

“ No...the kiss.”

THIS DUMBASS LMAO HE’S SO SALTY AND JEALOUS 

“ Why didn’t you tell me you were this good?” 

“ I- I was always this good! But I couldn’t say anything, I’m under a contract!”

“ But you could’ve told me! I wouldn’t have told a soul!” 

That’s a whole ass lie, if he knew, he would’ve bragged about it to Iwaizumi 

But foreal, Oikawa is such a supportive boyfriend like as months pass and your following gets bigger, he just gushes cause yep that’s his famous girlfriend ( he will 100% use you sometimes for clout)

this dude LOVES bragging to his friends that he’s dating a famous actress. Like he was always showing you off and hyping you up before but it gives him such an ego boost when people find out the two of you are dating

Oikawa is an attention whore like I said so you know whenever the paparazzi appears, he eats it up and will pose which is SOO embarrassing like pls why do u do this

But there are some days where you don’t want to get recognized and he 100% understands so the two of you will wear disguises as to not get recognized. One time you two ended up getting caught so he just grabbed your hand and the two of you SPRINTED back to the subway

He will have all of your movies on DVD and if your movie is on a streaming service, he will buy a membership JUST so he can watch your movie

Sometimes you’ll come over to his house and he’ll always try to make you watch your movie for the millionth time 

“ Toru, can we please watch something else?” 

“ But my extremely talented and beautiful girlfriend is in this movie why would I watch anything but this?” 

Don’t be fooled he WILL skip through any kissing scenes or scenes where your character shows any type of affection to another character

LOVESSS tagging along with you to photoshoots, interviews, red carpet events ALL OF IT

Red carpet events give him a chance to dress up and lowkey his outfit is always one of the best there. He won’t outshine you per se but fans actually look forward to see what he’ll be wearing and he’s not even in any of the movies I- 

Your schedule gets pretty busy once your career takes off and even though there are certain time periods where you’re across the world, it won’t stop him from sending huge bouquets to your set 

Basically, Oikawa is such a supportive boyfriend and is overall so proud of how you managed to juggle your studies with your acting career 10/10 best boy 

-Tsukishima- ( Musician/Singer)

You and Tsuki had only been dating for a bit and since it was all still new, he kept it on the down-low because the last thing he needed was his teammates pestering him about a girl 

Tsuki knew you liked to sing and write songs but you never told him about how well known you were simply because he never asked

He just assumed it was a side thing for you UNTIL he showed up to practice and some of his teammates were huddled around Noya watching something on his tablet

“ Move your elbow! I can’t see-”

“ Watch your hand-”

“ Shush! I can’t hear her-”

“ What are you idiots watching?” Tsuki asked as he craned his neck to look at the screen

No one answered him so he started to watch the music video and low and behold, your face popped up on screen singing along to your lyrics that he’s heard a million times

Tsuki is a bit taken aback cause why is his girlfriend in such a high production video and why is his heart feeling some type of way seeing you in that outfit

Like lemme just take off my glasses and see that again ( •_•)>⌐■-■

” Where did you guys get that video?”

“ What do you mean, it’s online? She’s trending right now-”

“ God all of her songs are so good I want to see her live-” 

“ I can’t believe she goes to school with us-”

“ I wish she would step on me-”

“ Hey, don’t talk about my girlfriend like that,” Tsuki said dryly as he glares at the back of Noya’s head, which prompted everyone to turn around

“ You’re dating Y/N L/N? Ha! That’s funny Tsuki!” Tanaka laughed as he slapped Tsuki in the back harshly

At first, even Tsuki was questioning himself like wait, is he even sure you’re dating? cause this girl in the music video was NOT the same girl he was on the phone with last night

 If you had asked Tsuki 10 seconds ago if he would ever reveal to the guys he was dating someone, he would say helllll no but now that he knew about this, he didn’t care about keeping the relationship a secret especially if they were thirsting over his girl

He had all the proof in the world that he was dating you but took the salty approach to prove it to them. He pulled out his phone and shot you a text even though you were in class

Tsuki: Come to the gym right now

Y/N: is everything ok?

Tsuki: just come quickly

You left your class to “use the restroom” and practically rushed to the gym thinking that something was wrong with your boyfriend. You slid into the gym, causing the boys to look up from the tablet and you ignored their shocked faces

“ Where’s Tsukishima?” 

The boys slowly did a doubletake from the music video back to you to make sure they were seeing correctly and even though you were a bit embarrassed to hear your song playing in the background, you were just worried about Tsuki

Tsuki walked out to you from behind the guys and you rushed over to him

“ Babe, what’s wrong?” 

“ BABE?!” 

The boys were shocked and the second years practically FAINTED in your presence 

Tsuki pulled the tablet from Noya’s cold, dead hands and showed you the screen,” Care to explain this?” 

“ I- Um, it’s my music video…”

“Well are you famous or something?” 

“ I wouldn’t say famous…more like upcoming artist?” 

And then the next week you’re a nominee for the VMA’s asjfkghdk

 honestly out of Oikawa and Bokuto, he probably handles it the best on the outside, he doesn’t make too big of a deal out of your fame but on the inside he’s can’t even believe it

He doesn’t go around shouting to the world that he’s dating the Y/N L/N but he has his own ways of supporting you. He’ll listen to your songs whenever he’s walking in the hallway or doing homework at home and he’ll catch himself liking tweets that are about you as long as they’re positive

He’s def the type to argue with people online if they say mean comments and will report/block them before you can even see it 

IDC how much he tries to hide it, he is deadass ur biggest fan. Tsuki will tease you about how nervous you act during interviews/award shows but he will ALWAYS go with you to ease your nerves even if he had prior plans

If you ever write a song for him, he gets SO RED AND EMBARRASSED so pls do that 

Will def call you baka for doing so but deep down, he’ll fall in love with you even more cause you’re able to put into words how he feels about you 

I don’t think he’ll be too comfortable with you posting about him but he knows he can’t do anything about people taking photos of the two of you out together in public

Tsuki would never be rude to your fans though like if you were recognized during a date, he wouldn’t make a fit and will take photos of you and your fans to speed the process along

He HATES HATES HATES the paparazzi’s like it’s one thing for fans to come up to you when yall are in public but he gets mad when the paparazzi harasses you with questions/pictures/comments

“ Y/N! Turn around and give a smile!” 

“ Not right now, I’m sorry.”

“ Oh come on, don’t be shy! Just show the camera a little skin!”

“ How about you shut the hell up before I smack that camera out of your face.”

Head empty, no thoughts, just thinking about Mad!tsuki

It’s a big adjustment for Tsukishima that he has a girlfriend in the entertainment sphere but he knows how hard you’ve worked for it and he would never tell you to stop living your dream 

Sometimes he’ll feel insecure because you’re so successful and he doesn’t want to hold you back but since he can’t imagine being without you, he just pushes those thoughts away and enjoys every minute with you 

[calpalirwin]

Are We?

A/N: Based on Are We by Taylor Acorn cuz I’m obsessed with her music (and you should be too)

Word Count: 1.9k

And away, and away we go!

__

You could feel the music from Michael’s DJ setup thumping in your bones as you stepped outside, the cool night air immediately bringing goosebumps to your arms. You slid into the jacket you brought with you, catching a lingering scent of cologne as you did, and sighed. That’s what you got for leaving your jacket right next to his. That’s what you got for having his hoodie on your dresser in the first place.

“Yeah, it’s a lil on the cold side, isn’t it?” a familiar voice drifted into your ear and you turned to the sound.

“A little, yeah. Too bad you left your hoodie at my place.”

“Eh,” Ashton shrugged. “I don’t mind if it stays there honestly. I have plenty of others. And I’m over at your place a lot, so at least I know I’ll always have a back up if I need it, ya know.”

“Yeah, I guess that’s true,” you tried to laugh off as you raised your gaze to properly meet his, feeling your stomach tie itself in knots. 

“You good?” he prompted after a beat of watching you work your mouth, trying to form words and failing.

What are we? is what you wanted to ask, but what came out was a forced smile and a choked “Yeah, I’m good. Gonna grab a drink. Catch up later?”

“Sure thing,” he mumbled as you quickly walked off, before muttering a string of curses under his breath. “Just fuckin’ talk to her, for fuck’s sake…”

~~~

“Hey, I’m Ashton,” the brunette smiled widely at you, offering his hand.

“Y/N,” you smiled back, shaking his hand.

“Can I get you a drink?”

“No thanks, I’m good.”

Ashton giggled, pushing a hand through his hair. “Alright then. Well… if you change your mind…”

“I probably won’t, but I’ll find you if I do.”

“Cool.”

You sighed, maybe a little dreamily, as he walked off. Sure, he was cute. But the first time meeting butterflies in your stomach would settle eventually. And with how you and Ashton appeared to run in the same circle of friends, you needed the phase to pass without playing into it. A relationship was the last thing you needed right now anyway. 

~~~

“Some fuckin’ phase…” you muttered to yourself as you grabbed a water bottle from a cooler. When you turned, you could see Ashton chatting with other friends of yours, his shirt being pulled tight against his back and shoulders as he moved his hands animatedly.

Your mind raced with who’s fault it was for the storm you couldn’t make sense of. On one hand, rationally, you knew it was your fault for being the one to set the friend boundary in the first place. But Ashton was the one who had crossed it. And now you were the one who felt like the clingy one-night stand, trying to put the pieces of a puzzle together with both sides blank. Although, in hindsight, maybe if it had only been a one-night stand, you could be playing it cool like he was.

~~~

“Oh, my God, get a room!” Calum groaned before chucking a pillow at Luke, and another one at Michael. “We have a rule against fucking in a public space for a reason.”

“We’re not fucking,” Michael defended, his words mumbled as his lips stayed locked on Crystal’s.

“Well, fuck you, I’m going to bed then. And wearing ear plugs I guess…” Calum rose to his feet with a huff.

“Night, mate,” Luke told him as he and Sierra came up for air, their foreheads knocking gently against each other’s.

Now alone to deal with the two couples making out like sex-crazed teenagers, you and Ashton shared a look where he made a kissy face that had you busting up laughing. 

“Alright, fine!” Michael threw up his hands in defeat. “We’ll go to bed.”

“Have fun!” Ashton grinned.

“Use protection!” you joined in on the teasing as both couples headed to their own rooms. “Ugh…” you sighed, stretching your arms over your head. “Is it wrong to be jealous?”

“Jealous of what? That?” Ashton asked, motioning towards Luke and Michael’s rooms.

“Yeah. Not necessarily the relationship bit. Still not sure I want that. But God, to just get fucked senseless by someone who’s not a rando every now and again would be nice.”

“Well…” he started, and you noticed the subtle switch to his suggestive tone. “You know where my room is.”

“Are you seriously trying to hit on me right now?”

He shrugged, raising his hands defensively. “Look. You’re the one who said you wanted to get fucked senseless by someone who’s not a rando. I just happen to be someone who’s not a rando to you, and I have a great track record of being one hell of a lay. So… you could just go to your room, and do whatever it is you do. Or you could come to mine, and I’ll treat you to a good time, no awkwardness afterward guaranteed.”

“No one can know.”

“Pity… I like ‘em loud.”

“Ashton.”

“Alright, alright. This stays between you and me, got it. Not a problem.”

~~~

Both of you thought that it would just be that night. That if it happened too much, things would either get awkward, or you’d run the risk of your friends catching on. But sex with Ashton was like a drug. And now things were definitely awkward. Or at least, you were awkward. And you didn’t know how to take it all back. To be the people you were when you first met. And more than that, you didn’t want that. All this time, you thought it was space that you needed. But Ashton wasn’t someone you could erase. Because even if you acted like regular friends in public, those moments underneath the sheets were heaven. But you could do without each middle-of-the-night goodbye tearing you more and more apart. You could do without thinking about him in every spare moment, and second guessing everything you ever thought you knew about him. And you could really do without crying every time you tried to convince yourself that it didn’t matter whether it's all in your head, or if it’s real. But alas, it seemed like you were destined to be just another woman who fell for Ashton Irwin, wishing to wake up with him still next to you just once. 

~~~

You stayed at Michael’s party for a while longer, making your rounds, while avoiding Ashton as much as you could, until you started your rounds of goodbyes.

“Headed out?” Ashton questioned, one arm wrapping around you for a side hug that made your insides twist more.

“Long day,” you half-lied.

He pulled a frown, wondering how much he should believe you or not. “Well, alright then. Text me when you get home so I know you got there safe?”

“Yeah, of course.”

“And uh…” he paused as his eyes darted around, checking to see if anyone was in earshot. “Call if you need to.” His breath was hot as it brushed against your ear, before his lips planted a quick kiss to the side of your head.

“Yep, see ya!” you said, maybe louder than you needed to before making your final exit.

Don’t call him, you thought on a loop the whole drive back to your apartment. 

Don’t call him, you thought as you texted the group chat that you got home, rather than just him. 

Don’t call him, you thought as you stared at your phone screen, finger hovering over his contact info. 

Sighing, you set your phone face down on your nightstand. It’s not like calling him would do any good if you didn’t know what to say anyhow. 

“Seriously, don’t do it,” you whispered to yourself as you changed into his hoodie for bed. If you couldn’t have him the way you wanted, this would have to be enough. Everything with all its complications would have to be enough.

You were double checking locks and turning off lights when your phone started ringing. You didn’t have time to process the name calling as you hit accept. “Hello?”

“Hey…” Ashton’s voice responded, sounding almost broken. 

“You alright?”

“Are you?” he countered. 

“Ash… look, it’s late, and I’m pretty tired.”

“I’m not calling you for sex, Y/N.”

“Then what else are you calling me for this late?”

“Would you just let me in please? It’s freezing out here.”

“Are you…?” You made your way through your apartment to the door, twisting the lock and pulling it open. “What are you…?”

“So you sleep in my clothes now?” Ashton asked, in lieu of answering your own half-asked questions. 

“It’s comfortable…” you mumbled, crossing your arms over your chest, as he walked past you, and sat down on your couch.

“I’m not mad,” he said, as you shut the door and made your way to sit next to him. “I mean, it’s fine. I don’t care that you wear it. It uh… looks good on you that way.” As if to illustrate his point, his fingers ran over your bare thighs.

You shifted away from his touch, tucking your legs underneath you. “What do you want, Ash?” you asked, cutting straight to the point. 

“I honestly don’t know. Cuz it changes. Sometimes I want my friend back because I feel like I’m losing her, especially these past few days. And other days… I dunno.”

“You think you’re losing me?”

“I mean…” he shrugged. “I hope I’m wrong. But yeah. It feels like that sometimes.”

“Ash…” You reached out to cradle his face in your hands, your thumbs brushing across his cheekbones. “You’re not losing me.”

“But it feels that way.” His hands pulled yours away from his face, but continued to hold them tightly as your hands dropped in his lap. “What did I do wrong?”

“Nothing! You did nothing wrong.”

“Then why are you acting like something’s changed?”

“Because something has changed, Ash.”

“Well, tell me! Tell me what it is, and I’ll fix it.”

“It’s me, Ash. I’m the something that’s changed.”

“I- I don’t think I understand.”

“I love you, Ashton.”

“I love you, too.”

“No. I’m in love with you.”

“Okay, and what’s so wrong with that?”

“Because you’re not in love with me back! Because I did this to myself! I tried to keep my distance because the last time I fell for someone I got hurt! But I let you get close anyway, because you’re you! And now I’m falling, and dammit I don’t wanna get hurt again!”

“Shh,” he soothed, pulling you into him as hot tears spilled down your face and onto his shirt. “Shh, it’s alright, Y/N. Everything’s alright.”

“No it’s not!” you sobbed into his chest. “I don’t know what we are, Ash! Are we just friends who have sex sometimes? Is that all we get to be to each other?”

“Look at me,” he coaxed gently, his hands rubbing up and down your back. “God damn it, look at me,” he repeated more sternly when you didn’t, his hands guiding your face to look at him. “Remember how I said I thought I was losing you?” he asked, his thumbs brushing away the tears as they continued to roll.

You sniffed loudly as you nodded.

“It’s because I’m in love with you, too. I thought I was pushing too far, and that’s why you were pulling away.”

You shook your head. “N-no. I was pu-pulling away, cuz I’m sc-scared to be in love with y-you.”

“Oh, honey, you don’t have to be scared of that.”

“I d-don’t?”

He chuckled lightly, placing soft kisses along your hairline. “Of course not,” he murmured. “Because we’re friends first, which means I’m not going anywhere.”

“But we’re more than that, too?”

“So much more than that.”

“Ash? Will you stay with me tonight? And be here in the morning?”

“Of course, baby.”

__

Tag List

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[scuttling]

While You Were Sleeping (Okay, in a Coma)

Fandom: Criminal Minds Pairings: Derek Morgan & Latina Original Female Character Aaron Hotchner/Latina Original Female Character Derek Morgan/Spencer Reid Word Count: 2,058 Chapters: 1 of ? WIP Tags: SFW so far, Sophie is not in the BAU, While You Were Sleeping (film) AU, Coffee shop, Unrequited love, Canon-typical violence, Slow burn

Summary: What happens when Derek Morgan, the man Sophie Cortes is secretly in love with, goes into a coma, and everyone around them mistakes her for his girlfriend? As if things weren't complicated enough, his boss is sweet, kind, incredibly handsome, and makes sure she's taken care of while Derek is in the hospital. Plus, she thinks one of Derek's coworkers is more secretly in love with him than she is. Feelings shift, but how does Sophie explain to the world that she fell for Aaron while Derek was sleeping, without hurting everyone she's come to care about?

Read on AO3 or read more below! The morning that changes Sophie Cortes’s life forever begins much like any other: she wakes up at 3 AM to her blaring alarm, slides out of bed with a groan, tugs off the oversized t-shirt she slept in and pulls on a sports bra and leggings to go for a run. She knows this makes her sound like a lunatic, but with her schedule, if she doesn’t exercise before the crack of dawn, it just doesn’t happen.

After her run, she goes home to shower and change, grabs her bag and drives to The Busy Bean, the coffee shop she co-owns with her best friend Jocelyn. Jocelyn is the brains of the operation, the one with all the great marketing ideas, the one who handles the finances and vendors and supply issues and makes sure everything is Fair Trade or else—Sophie bakes cookies and makes macchiatos, but everyone’s got their strong suits.

She loves the coffee shop more than anything, its bright brick walls and dark wood floors, the smell of fresh beans and sugar, the bustle of regular customers they get from being so near Quantico; most of them are serious suit types, always in a hurry, but some of them are sweet, take their time to say good morning, like Sophie’s favorite customer, Derek.

She knows Derek is a fed of some sort, even though he’s not usually in a suit. He has that air about him, like he’s powerful and capable, like he’s seen things, but he never fails to flash her a megawatt smile, to lean against the counter while she makes his mocha and ask her how her morning is going. She’s a little bit in love with him.

Jocelyn knows this, and always makes sure Sophie is the one to wait on him; when she calls Sophie out from the kitchen specifically because Derek’s there, she knows he knows, and she flushes, but he says she makes his drink better than anyone, always asks her for a cookie recommendation on Fridays so he can take a box to the office, so she thinks it might not be completely one sided. Maybe. Or he’s just a really, really sweet guy.

On the morning that changes her life forever, he’s still very sweet, but she also sees a side of him she’s never seen before.

Someone tries to rob them. The man walks right up to the counter, no mask, no nothing, and tells her to put all of the money from the register into a cookie box or he’ll pull out the gun he’s got in his pocket and blow her face off. Her first instinct is to be pissed about this, which she knows is really stupid. She takes a step back, looks at the guy like he’s an idiot, crosses her arms.

“Are you fucking kidding me? Do you know how hard we work for this money? We don’t sit around… playing video games in our mom’s basement, like you do, by the looks of it.” The guy is obviously not happy about this, slams his hands down on the counter, and Derek, who is two spots behind him, leans slightly out of line to get her attention.

“Sophie, is this guy bothering you?” Before she can answer, the guy turns to look at Derek; he takes one glance at his hot, strong physique, and then his gun and his badge thing, and books it out of the shop. Derek tears off after him, and Sophie can see this ending very badly, so she grabs Jocelyn, asks her to cover the register and tells her she’ll be right back.

She jogs outside, expecting to see Derek manhandling the dumbass robber, or at least still chasing after him; she does not expect to see Derek laying on the ground, bleeding out, a bullet wound in his stomach.

“Oh my god, Derek!” She skids to a halt next to him, pulls off her apron—it’s mostly clean, she thinks—and lifts up his shirt, presses it to the wound to stop the bleeding. “Are you okay? That’s dumb, you’re not okay, but can you hear me? Are you going to die?” He chuckles, and that makes her feel a little better, but then he coughs up blood, and that makes her feel much, much worse.

She pulls her phone out of her back pocket, calls 911, and just stays with him, talks to him about nothing and everything, until the police and paramedics arrive. At that point, he has passed out, looks drained and weak, so unlike the Derek she has come to know… and love. Fuck. If he dies because of something that happened at her shop…

“Excuse me, miss, but we need to get him on the stretcher,” an EMT says, putting his hand gently on her shoulder. She backs off, knows he needs to be attended to, but she can’t leave him, she just can’t.

“Can I ride to the hospital with him? Please,” she asks the other tech, and she glances at her partner, who nods. Sophie sighs a breath of relief, sends a text to Jocelyn explaining what happened and that she’ll need to be out of the shop for the foreseeable future.

She notices that Derek’s phone has fallen off of his belt, and she picks it up, since the paramedics don’t seem interested. She absently decides to look through his recent contacts, to see if there’s someone she should inform of the accident: the last number he dialed belongs to someone named Hotch, and she vaguely remembers him mentioning the name before. It might be his boss, or something? He dials the number frequently, anyway, so she figures it’s worth a shot.

“Hotchner,” the man answers after two rings, and Sophie sighs, glad she got through to someone. Even if he’s not the person she should be contacting, he might know how to reach them.

“Uh, hello. I’m pretty sure you’re Derek’s boss, but even if you aren’t, you’re the last person he called, so… There’s been an accident. Derek’s been shot. We’re headed to the GWU Medical Center; I thought you would want to know.” She can hear the man moving some papers in the background, banging something around on his desk, maybe.

“We’re on the way; how bad is it? Is he conscious? What happened?” The paramedics signal for her to hop into the back of the ambulance, so she does, and she takes Derek’s limp hand. Her eyes well up with tears, and it feels real, now, that she has to relive it.

“There was someone trying to rob the coffee shop, and—and Derek went after him; he had a gun, and I guess he shot him. I mean, he obviously shot him. In the stomach. He’s not conscious; I don’t know how bad it is, but he was coughing up blood. Oh, god,” she breathes, voice shaky, and the man on the phone makes a soft sound of reassurance.

“It’s alright. He’s a very strong person, I promise you. He’ll be okay. You said you were headed to GWU Medical Center; are you with him now?”

“Yes. The paramedics let me ride with him. I can text you an update when we get there, his room number if he has one.” She can hear him talking to someone else in the background, but it only takes him a moment to answer.

“Please do. We’ll be there as quickly as we can. Thank you,…?” He pauses, clearly wondering who the hell she is.

“Oh, Sophie. Sophie Cortes.”

“Aaron Hotchner. Thank you. We’ll see you soon.”

The paramedics push Derek into the emergency room entrance, and Sophie follows behind, feeling anxious and out of place, and worried about his injury. They push the gurney through a set of double doors, and Sophie goes to follow, but a stern looking nurse in gold scrubs puts a hand in front of her, doesn’t even look up from her clipboard.

“You can’t go in there.” Sophie’s heart-rate jumps, and she shakes her head.

“I need to go in there, I need to make sure he’s okay. Please.”

“Are you family?” she asks, giving her a once-over; she clearly decides that Sophie is not family, and she doesn’t want to lie, anyway.

“No, I’m not family, but—”

“Like I said, you can’t go in there. Family only.” She moves her arm, waits like she dares Sophie to try, but she just sighs, sags against the wall, and the woman walks away.

“But you don’t understand,” Sophie says weakly, to herself. “I’m in love with him.” She brings up a hand to scrub at the tears forming in her eyes, and another nurse, one with blue scrubs and braids and a kind smile, rests a palm on her shoulder.

“Come with me.” Sophie looks up at her—she looks kind of like an angel, but it’s probably just the fluorescent lighting—and nods, follows.

She takes her through a staff only door, sneaks her into the OR hallway, where they can peer through a window at Derek, surrounded by doctors, surgeons, nurses. Sophie has only seen this kind of stuff on TV, so she doesn’t know how it’s going, but the nurse who brought her tells her to stay there for one second and bustles off.

It’s really scary to watch: there are bloody cloths being thrown around, and tubes and clamps and other medical devices she’s not sure the use for, but after a moment, she can see a doctor lift up a pair of surgical pliers, and there’s a bullet between the prongs. That’s a good sign, she’s pretty sure.

The nice nurse comes back, and she scares the shit out of Sophie when she puts a hand on her arm, making her jump a foot. She smiles apologetically, and Sophie returns it.

“I found out his room number, if you’d like to go sit and wait for him to be brought in. It's an ICU, so technically visiting hours haven’t started yet, but I can make an exception—for an hour, okay?” Sophie nods, wraps her hands around the nurse's wrists.

“Thank you so much. Really—I just need to know he’s okay,” she says, and the woman nods understandingly and takes her to room 104, where Derek will be placed after surgery.

She texts the number to Derek’s boss, takes a seat on the chair in the corner of the room. She gets restless quickly, stands up, uses the bathroom sink to scrub at her hands, because they’re still stained with Derek’s blood. It’s quiet, eerily so, until suddenly it isn’t.

Derek is wheeled in on a bed by a couple of nurses; he looks a little better, all wrapped up in gauze, and they hook him to machines, displaying a steady heartbeat. She breathes a sigh of relief. He’s alright. He’s not dead. That’s incredible news. She takes his hand, wills herself not to cry, murmurs that she’s so happy he’s alive.

As soon as the nurses leave, a group of people who can only be Derek’s coworkers enter the room. There is a tall, serious looking man with dark hair and a dark suit; a woman with thick fringe, a kind face; an older guy with facial hair who looks worried and weary; a skinny guy who looks about the same as Sophie feels; a petite blonde woman with the bluest eyes Sophie’s ever seen; and another blonde woman with crimped hair and glossy lips who has absolutely been crying. They look at Sophie, and she stands, drops Derek’s hand.

“Um, hi, I’m—”

“Who are you?” a doctor says suddenly from behind the group. The kind nurse who let her see Derek is behind him. The serious looking man reaches into his pocket, flashes a badge with a no-nonsense expression.

“We’re with the FBI. We’re his coworkers.” He looks over at Sophie, and she takes a deep breath. Before she can explain who she is, the kind nurse steps around the doctor, flashes Sophie a smile.

“And she’s his girlfriend.”

Uh. What the fuck?

Derek’s coworkers exchange a look that says pretty much the same thing; the tall skinny one looks like his heart has been broken.

Sophie opens her mouth to correct that extremely incorrect assumption, but she can’t find the words, and then she passes out.

[lovelylogans]

honey, you’re familiar (like my mirror)

see other chapters, warnings, and notes here!

chapter three: psycellic consentia

psycellic consentia: psycellium (or psycelium) is a psychic nervous system that allows sensates to connect with one another. sensates have a solitary "above" existence, and are connected "below" via the psycelium. consentia, latin: knowledge shared with others, being in the know or privy to, joint knowledge; complicity; knowledge within oneself, consciousness, feeling.

ROMAN

It hasn’t even been five minutes since Sasha left to grab dinner, but Roman’s already feeling strangely jittery.

A nap would be a fruitless venture, he’s realized, so he’s gotten up to pace around the room, reciting the lines of the scene he’s meant to be filming tomorrow. He knows them all by heart, naturally, but it’ll be an odd scene to shoot anyways. His character, Pablo, would be escaping from the grasp of his friend-turned-betrayer (who would turn out to have been bluffing and truly Pablo’s friend all along by the end of the movie) by sprinting through the forest, making his getaway by leaping into a river and swimming away.

This stunt he doesn’t get to do; he’s already technically filmed the scenes when he’s in the water, and a stunt double will be “jumping off the cliff.” So tomorrow is going to be entirely on-location, acting then sprinting through the forest.

So Roman chants his lines to himself, pacing in his room with his eyes closed, trying his hardest to sink into Pablo’s mindset. And, after a few minutes of running his lines over in his head, it’s like he’s actually walking in the forest; the snap of a twig under his feet, the smell of leaves and dirt, the cooing of various birds.

Roman’s jaw drops, because—because no way. No way.

No fucking way is his brother standing there, with a bundle of twigs tucked up under his arms, staring at Roman the way a kid would stare at a particularly adventurous snail journeying along the ground.

Well, the way Remus would look at an adventurous snail, as a kid. Roman would have probably just fled the snail in favor of playing with wooden swords and rescuing imaginary damsels.

"Aw, c’mon, man, what the fuck," Remus grumbles, looking skyward as if asking for some kind of divine intervention, though Roman knows that's never been the case, much to their chronically Catholic abuela’s dismay.

She probably would have been pleased if Roman tacked on a God rest her soul there, but considering her abysmal reaction when her grandson decided to be an actor and an even worse reaction when her other grandson informed them all that he was, in fact, a grandson, he's never really wanted to please her anyway.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Remus says tightly, dropping his bundle of twigs. 

Remus. Remus is here. Or Roman is there? Whatever, it doesn’t matter, there he is. That’s Roman’s brother.

“What, are you trying to lure me in for the police to catch me? Because it’s not going to fucking work, Roman.” 

God, he’s alive, he doesn’t look hurt, he’s—well, actually, Roman has no idea if he’s safe or not. He just kind of looks like he’s dirty, with scraggly hair and smudges on his face. This alone isn’t entirely unusual for Remus, but the amount of it is. But—he’s here. He’s alive. He has some form of shelter, he’s probably been eating, he’s okay—

“Or are you just here to—”

Roman staggers forward and flings his arms around Remus’ neck, hugging him as tight as he can, almost as if he can feel what Remus feels, the arms wrapping around his neck and the arms wrapping around his torso in kind, feeling echoes of what he does, and what Remus does, bouncing between like a seismic shock.

Across the world, Janus smiles in his sleep; Emile wiggles happily in his chair while waiting for his next therapy session; Patton grins at a wall about nothing in particular; Logan touches his own shoulders, blinking rapidly in surprise at the weight of phantom arms holding him close.

REMY

Remy is used to experiencing emotions that aren’t his.

When he feels a near-violent joy sprouting up in his chest, he pauses briefly in pouring a customer a cup of coffee to put a hand on his chest and smile to himself.

He’ll ask Emile what’s got him so happy later. He’s just happy that Emile is happy.

REMUS

Remus blinks at Roman after Roman pulls back from the hug, hands on his shoulders, still beaming at him.

“—For a while I thought that you were coming to stay at my apartment with me, but then you never showed, and I was worried sick wondering where you were all this time. I’ve been reading all about the case—oh, that doesn’t matter now, we’re together! Now you can come here to the city, and I can post your bail so you can stay with me, and I can get you a really good lawyer, and—!”

“You’ve been reading about the case?” Remus says, his voice sounding strange even to his own ears.

Roman blinks at him. “Yeah?” There’s an unspoken duh in his tone.

“So you know that I’m the main suspect,” Remus prompts.

“Yeah…”

“So, you,” Remus says, “acting sweetheart of the nation with your dear fake girlfriend—you want to bring in a dirty gremlin accused of murder? The sibling the whole country doesn’t even know you have?” 

Roman looks suddenly anxious, as if expecting Remus to blow up and yell at him.

“Do you even think I’m innocent?” Remus continues, only faking his bluster a little.

“I mean,” Roman says. “It doesn’t really matter to me.”

“Does what matter?” Remus says. The bluster is much more faked this time.

“I mean, you’re my brother,” Roman says. “I don’t really care if you killed him or not.” 

Remus bursts out laughing.

Roman gawks at him, caught off guard, and Remus doesn’t know if it’s just from seeing Roman again, or the fact that he’s been on the run for over a week now and has only been eating the plants a hallucination taught him about, or what, but the expression on his face is just too good.

Roman! Who regularly gets caught in the tabloids! Getting a snapshot of him escorting a man wanted for murder into his warm, loving home! The mental image of the shocked expression on any pap’s face is just—oh, it would be so perfect.

“And your ‘girlfriend?’” Remus says, using air quotes. “Does she know about me?”

“No, but,” Roman says, still with that stupidly heroic, determined look on his face. “I’ll tell her. I’ll tell her tonight, even. She’ll understand.”

Right. If anyone else was as much of a media darling, it was Roman’s fake girlfriend, with her big, brown, innocent eyes and absolute inability to seem like she’s used to being famous.

“Oh, that’s too good,” Remus chortles. “Yeah, Roman. Okay. Sure. You go ahead and tell her.”

“I’m gonna!”

“Sure, fine,” Remus says, waving him off. “Make arrangements to bring your murderous brother home. I’ll catch a bus or something, I’m sure no cop is gonna see me and arrest me on the way to your apartment.” 

“I will,” Roman says, firm and resolute, and Remus just shakes his head, grinning still.

Of the pair of them, people seemed to think Remus was the crazy one when it was clear that Roman was absolutely bonkers. But at least he’d grown a pretty good sense of humor since Remus had been accused of killing someone.

JANUS

“Fucking finally, Jazza.”

Janus considers getting up and walking right back out, but unfortunately, his stomach is already set on fish and chips with the made-in-house sauce here. He wearily begins to weigh the costs of putting up with Key and the nickname “Jazza” against the benefits of sriracha aioli. 

And money. The money ends up winning out every time.

Three more jobs, Janus tells himself. Just three more jobs, and then you don’t have to put up with the risk anymore. Two, if one of them has a bigger compensation than average, and for the quality of my work...

It’s a lie, of course. Janus has been telling himself three more jobs ever since he clawed his way onto the bar standards board, years ago.

“What’s been going on with you, anyway?” Key says around a mouthful of chips, which garbles his speech beyond recognition. Unfortunately, Janus has known Key long enough that he can translate it with ease.

“Chew with your mouth closed and clean up your face,” Janus says, unable to stop himself. Habits are difficult to kill, Janus supposes.

Key rolls his eyes but obligingly blots at his face with a napkin. “D’you got it?”

Janus offers a small box wrapped like a present in answer. Inside is a hard drive containing the information their client had requested.

Key takes it, grinning, and stuffs it into his hoodie pocket.

“Be careful with that,” Janus scolds.

“You say that every time,” Key says. “Have I ever lost one of your—”

Janus glares at him.

“—one of the fruits of your labor?” Key says, quickly back-pedaling, realizing they’re in a public setting and a waitress is fast approaching with Janus's order.

“This smells amazing.”

Janus tries his best not to startle, but even with two days to process what the man in his mirror had told him, it’s still bizarre.

The actor beside him looks briefly embarrassed as if he hadn’t meant to say that aloud. Janus glances over at him—a member of his cluster, what an unappealing word—and sees a glimpse of a cramped little trailer. On a movie set, probably? He’s wearing leather pants and a leopard-print shirt that Janus has the feeling he’d never wear in real life.

Janus also feels the grumbling in Roman’s stomach. Janus sighs to himself.

“And another basket of chips with extras of that same sauce, please.”

“You got it, lovey,” she says, turning to go.

“Extra hungry, then?” Key says.

“Something like that,” Janus says neutrally. Without asking for Janus's permission—maybe knowing Janus was about to offer anyway—Roman reaches out and gulps deeply from Janus's Ribena.

“How’s,” Janus says, briefly casts about in his mind for the name of the latest love of Key’s life, and lands on, “Francesca?”

Key snorts. “Ancient history, mate.”

Not exactly surprising. Key’s always fancied himself a romantic, but he’s never been able to follow through on his commitment to anything ever.

“M’goin’ on a date with a bird tonight, though,” he says around a mouthful of chips.

“For God’s sake, Key, could you at least pretend you weren’t raised in a barn?” Janus snips at him, even as he’s dunking his own chips into the aioli.

Key grins at him, and Janus wrinkles his nose. He can tell Roman is doing the same beside him. They share the same sentiment at the moment, but it’s Roman’s “that’s disgusting” that falls out of his mouth.

He realizes why Key’s brow furrows a moment too late.

“Uh, bless you?” Key says; the closest he’s ever been to the Mexican vernacular of Spanish is ordering a fajita at a local Tex-Mex restaurant.

“Oops,” Roman says, not particularly apologetically. He grabs another handful of chips.

“I’m studying in my spare time,” he says and fixes Key with a look. “A hobby you could choose to emulate.”

“What’d I need more school for?” He scoffs. “Ten years was well enough.”

“To aspire for more for yourself—”

“Oh, here we go,” Key snaps, tossing down the piece of battered cod he was about to eat, splattering sauce on the wood table. “I am so sick of your “high and mighty” act.”

He mimics Janus's accent at high and mighty; Janus grits his teeth, and very purposefully enunciates his next few sentences.

“This cannot last forever, you understand.”

“No, just so long as you get rich off it, eh?”

“Um,” Roman says. “I’d offer to go and leave you two to duke this one out in private, but I’m not really sure how to stop this weird astral projection thing—”

Janus ignores him.

“Oh, as if being a lawyer doesn’t pay enough. Put your brain to some use and think, why is it that I keep helping you?!” Janus snaps, leaning across the table and softening his voice. “Why on earth do you think I continue with this?!”

“Spare me,” Key scoffs. 

“The only reason I keep doing this is because you keep doing this,” Janus hisses. “The only reason I became a lawyer was because of you getting us into trouble.”

“Don’t—” Key says, his face twisting up.

“It is because of me we are not rotting in jail, Quirinus. I’m sure it’s such a burden I want more for you.”

“It’s Key,” he grumbles before he rolls his eyes at Janus and tilts his baseball cap at him in farewell. “And since you have aspired to more for yourself, and since being a big fancy lawyer does pay so much, and since you saved me,” this is said with heavy sarcasm, “you fucking prat, you can get the bill. Much obliged, big brother.”

As he walks off, he tosses a “wanker” over his shoulder for good measure, jamming his orange cap onto his head.

Janus pinches the bridge of his nose, exhaling sharply.

There’s a pause. 

Then: the slurping of someone draining his Ribena.

Janus opens his eyes and turns his head to Roman, who’s chasing the last drops of Ribena about the glass with a straw.

“So, he’s probably not finishing that, right?” Roman says. Without waiting for an answer, he grabs a handful of chips and shoves them into his mouth. “‘Cause I’ve been waiting for Sasha to come back with dinner for like an hour now and I’m starving,” he says loudly while chewing.

Janus's jaw is slightly unhinged.

“You are a pestilence upon my life,” he says at last.

Roman smirks at him, mercifully close-mouthed, and swallows down the food that Janus supposes he’ll be paying for. Janus is certain that Roman is doing this to annoy him.

“Wait ‘till you have to deal with my brother.” He dunks the cod into the sauce. “Also, how much do you know about what’s going on here, anyway? Why do random people keep popping into my life?” 

Janus lowers his voice so they aren’t heard by any random passerby.

“Allegedly, we are known as sensates. I assume you’ve been seeing other people—we’re stuck seeing them psychically for the rest of our lives, as well as sharing specific skills, languages, emotions…”

Roman reaches for Key’s Ribena and drains that too.

“Tastes,” Janus adds pointedly. “That the other is paying for.”

“Yeah, exactly, you’re paying for it,” Roman says, and grabs another piece of cod. “It won’t go to waste now.”

“You won’t even get the nutritional benefits of eating food,” Janus says. “You’ll just get the taste of it.”

“Still, you’re getting your money’s worth. I’m helping.”

“Aren’t you rich?” Janus says. “Being an actor and all.”

“Aren’t you?” Roman counters. “Being a lawyer and all.”

Roman jams the cod into the ramekin of sauce.

“Either way, this place sure won’t take pesos, and it’s not like I can psychically transfer you money. Hey, how much do you know about Mexican law, anyways?” He takes a massive bite.

Janus puts his face into his hands for a few moments, before he reaches into his messenger pad and pulls out a legal pad and pen.

“Enough,” he says grudgingly—truthfully, not quite as much as English law. However, with this whole connection thing, they do share knowledge, so he certainly knows more now than he did before. He gestures at the waitress for another couple of Ribenas. “Why don’t you refresh me on the details of your brother’s case?”

PATTON

Patton frowns, tapping his pen against his chin as his kindergartners are all sprawled out on their mats for their post-lunch nap. He usually takes advantage of this time to catch up on marking (normally, just putting “good job!” stickers on their papers, they’re five) but right now he’s staring at something he’d written down out of the blue and trying to understand it.

He knows that he’s technically a sensate now, but does that mean his kindergartners are going to have to put up with scrawlings about Mexican flora when Patton had meant to be writing down the activities of the day?

“Aw, jeez,” someone grumbles, and Patton turns to look over his shoulder.

He grins sheepishly at the sight of an academic article plastered over with shiny star stickers. “Oops.”

The man is familiar and yet not; Patton doesn’t think he’s seen this one outside of briefly popping in and out. 

The man sighs, turning the paper over and then looking back at Patton.

“At least they’re purple,” he grumbles, and within a heartbeat, he’s gone. Patton returns his attention to his marking.

Oh, yay, he did end up putting stickers on the kiddos’ papers!

LOGAN

Not many people were particularly aware of this, especially considering the average population was generally unaware of the space research in Antarctica, but the cafeterias here are actually excellent.

In the history of Antarctic explorers and researchers, it had gone quite differently—Ernest Shackleton and Tom Crean ate seal, dog meat, and biscuits mixed with melted snow during the Trans-Antarctic Expedition of 1914—but chefs now seem to view it as an intriguing challenge, a way to sharpen their skills. 

Logan is an adequate enough cook, to the point where he can feed himself at home, but the food here is on another level. He’s finishing off his dessert, a lovely chocolate tart when a chef sits across from him at the dinner table, the same one that had served him his tray tonight.

He doesn’t know her well, so he hopes he’s disguised her squint at her nametag under the guise of adjusting his glasses.

“Very well done, Dot,” he says, lifting his fork to his mouth.

“Oh, good, you are one of us,” she says, with a level of relief that seems odd for hearing a compliment about her cooking. “I was wondering, Casimire gave me the oddest look when I told him to head off early so I could make eye contact with you.”

“What are you—?” Logan says, eyes narrowed, before his eyes flash to the kitchen, automatically looking for Casimire, the chef he’s most used to seeing.

True enough, Casimire isn’t there.

But Dot is here.

Dot is here twice.

Dot is sitting at the table with him. But Dot is smiling and chatting with one of the marine biology research team members, ten feet away. But—

“Oh, I can hear that brain working,” Dot says. She reaches out to pat his hand; it feels as warm and real as a hand can feel.

“What is this,” Logan forces through numb lips, appetite gone, chocolate tart entirely forgotten. “What are you—what is happening—?”

“Shh, shh, not too loud,” Dot says in a hushed voice. “To everyone else, it looks like you’re sitting alone. Here—you’ve got your bag with you, did you pack your earpiece?”

Logan nods.

“Put that in.”

He does as she says. What else is there to do?

The Dot in the kitchen turns to wink and smile at him reassuringly. He isn’t sure how to tell the Dot before him that there is absolutely nothing in this situation that could comfort him, and pointing out that there are two of her and that he is seeing things is not a particularly good way to go about it regardless.

He fumbles with the earpiece a few times, but he puts it in and clicks it on.

“There,” she says in satisfaction. “Now it’ll look like you’re talking over Bluetooth. Neat little trick, isn’t it? Keeps us from looking,” and she circles her ear with her finger and gives a two-note whistle, the universal sign for off your rocker. “I’m surprised your parent hasn’t taught you yet, but I suppose you are very new. Has your migraine stopped yet?”

Logan gawks at her. “How did you know I have a—?”

“Because I had one too when it all started,” she says. “All of us do. Let me tell you, I really wasn’t expecting to see a sensate down here, but I guess when you come to a place like this nothing should surprise you, right? That’s what my Larry said. But this’ll be handy, he was hoping I could meet a nice scientist to connect to the Archipelago! You’re an astronomer, right? That’s a very brainy subject.”

“Wait, go back,” Logan says. “How did you know I have a migraine? Why are you talking about my mother? Why should she have taught me about using Bluetooth? What does a group of islands have to do with anything, and what’s a sensate?”

The smile on Dot’s face slips.

“Oh dear,” she says. “Oh dear, you don’t know anything at all, do you?”

Logan gives her an offended look before he can really stop himself.

“Well,” Dot says thoughtfully. “A scientist. I bet you’d be really interested in the opportunity to send a question around the world within seconds, wouldn’t you?”

“Google exists,” Logan points out.

Dot smiles at him. “Where do you think they got the idea? Sapiens invented it in the 1990s; we’ve had it since the Neolithic.”

Against his better judgment to stop listening to what is most likely to be a hallucination, Logan finds himself very intrigued.

VIRGIL

Virgil is elbow-deep in papers about abrus precatorius, sorting them into piles for useful information or irrelevant when there’s the sound of someone hitting their knees beside him.

Virgil jumps, startled, and looks into the stunning blue eyes of Logan, the handsome Pole in Antarctica. His eyes are bright, eager, excited, and there’s a wide smile on his face.

“We’re not hallucinating,” he declares and spreads out an armful of his own notes; hastily taken, from the look of it, and he presses his fingers against an earpiece that’s blinking blue light. “Oh, and get one of these, by the way, technology has apparently made things much better for us, Dot said we’d get burned during the witch trials because we’d be talking to people who weren’t there and knowing things we shouldn’t know, but I think that’s an exaggeration. I wish there was a more central written history, but I suppose we’ve evolved in a way that word-of-mouth knowledge is the most efficient, haven’t we?”

There’s a lot of thoughts whirling around Virgil’s head—what do you mean, how do you know, why are we talking about witch burnings and evolution—but what comes out, a bit stupidly, is “You look good.”

Logan’s rambling stops in his tracks as he stares at Virgil, bemused, mouth slightly ajar.

“Um, I mean,” Virgil says. He coughs. “You look… less worried than last time. Which is. Good!” 

Logan keeps staring. With his lips parted like that, it’s all too easy to see that Logan must have licked them, recently; the sheen of it catches Virgil’s eye. He stares at Logan’s mouth. He stares at Logan.

Stop it stop it stop it he’ll think you’re weird, something in his brain shrieks, and that breaks the spell.

“So, uh, you’ve figured out what’s happening to us?” Virgil prompts.

Logan shakes himself, before he spreads out his papers, picking up one in particular. Virgil takes it, examining it; it’s two sketches of a brain. He’s familiar enough with biology by virtue of having doctors for parents to know that the sketch on the right side of the paper is not right. 

There’s something wrong with this brain.

“This,” Logan says, tapping the leftmost brain with his finger, “is the typical human brain.”

“Right, yeah,” Virgil says, frowning, and points to the rightmost brain. Their hands almost touch. “There’s something wrong with this one—something about the hemispheres, I think? It’s like there’s a growth.”

Logan moves to point to the rightmost brain, and this time, their hands do brush. But, before Virgil can think anything about it other than his hands are soft and he feels a little cold—

“This is what our brains are becoming.”

Virgil immediately panics.

“But it’s okay!” Logan says quickly as if he’s able to tell. Maybe he can—Virgil isn’t sure how clear it reads on his face. Or maybe, the way he’s been laughing at nothing or frowning at thin air, Logan can feel it. “It’s okay, it’s totally natural for us. For homo sapiens, no, but for homo sensorium—”

“Homo sensorium?” Virgil repeats, brow furrowed.

“It’s what we are,” Logan says. “Scientific name homo sensorium, colloquial name sensate.”

Sensate. Virgil hears the word, and something slips in place in his mind—it’s as if he’s heard that term before. It feels like breathing in a whiff of air and catching the scent of a sweet that sends your memory careening back to a time when you were seven and elbow-deep in dough with your grandmother. But it’s like he can’t quite fully grasp the memory. Something niggles just at the edge of it. It’s like his brain is trapped on the grandparent metaphor because he cannot stop thinking about his mother’s mother.

He sets the memory aside, for now; he’ll have time to think of it later.

Because, as Logan explains everything he’s learned so far, Virgil has absolutely zero chance of thinking about anything else. 

They spend most of the night talking about it. Even with all the bizarre aspects of what this new information brings, it’s easy to talk to Logan in a way that isn’t typical of Virgil speaking with other people. Virgil isn’t sure if that’s because they share this psychic connection, or if they’re both doctors, or if it’s some other connection.

“The way it was phrased is that we’re different types of human, but I don’t think we’re so different that it sets us apart from other people. From what I understand, the growth of our population is primarily due to epigenetic factors…”

Okay, so, primarily due to how behaviors and environments affect his genes. But what epigenetic factor triggered this in Virgil? Was this a dormant thing that could be triggered by ingesting some sort of chemical, or was it due to the way Virgil behaved? Had he done something in his life to cause all of this?

“A lot of the science is conjecture,” Logan warns, “and there was apparently some big corporation intent on doing medical experimentation on us ten or so years ago, but that’s mostly handled, you just have to be more careful about making eye contact with strangers in public…”

Oh, great, scientists hunted them down for medical experimentation so now he had to closely guard himself in any hospital! What a thrilling thing to hear for the son of two doctors!

“I’ve gathered that we can “share” certain skills or memories and that these things will become easier with practice. That’s why I could speak Xhosa and you Polish when we first met, it was the skill-sharing attribute, which could certainly come in handy for several reasons, but I also understand that we can visit each other at various times. There’s apparently a medicine you can take to block it, but it’s rather rare to come by, so unless you know a pharmacist willing to do some work under the table…”

That would almost definitely come to bite one of them in the ass at some point. What about privacy? Was he just doomed to have people from all over the world pop in on him while he’s in the shower or something?

“Dot said that she met her husband Larry through the connection, which drove off into a whole side-tangent. Apparently, romantic partners in clusters—that’s the widely accepted term, ‘cluster.’” 

Virgil pulls a face.

“I know, they could have picked literally any other more appealing word for it, couldn’t they? Bunch, group, flock, clique, assemblance—Anyways, romantic partnerships within clusters are somewhat common, and most of the sensate community finds it quite normal. I think our parent is in one, or at least that’s what Dot said.”

Logan clears his throat and adjusts his glasses. “Apparently some of the old-fashioned sensates think it’s like—what was it Dot’s parent said?—”the worst sort of narcissism.” Apparently, her parent was very displeased to be a parent and wanted nothing to do with creating bonds. I personally think that’s a rather backwards—humanity survives and thrives due to its ability to create bonds and care for each other—but I suppose I tend to think that way about a lot of old-fashioned things.”

“I guess I do, too,” Virgil muses aloud.

They sit quietly, for a while, so quietly that Virgil doesn’t notice when Logan slips away; the only thing that does bring him back from his swirling thoughts is when a voice breaks Virgil’s silence. It sends the emotions of knowing what’s happening to him shattering to the ground.

“Who on earth are you talking to?”

[dragon-of-dreams]

Pieces

My Masterlist

 Part four to Cracking a Code; Previous Part

 Pairing: dark!Steve Rogers x Reader (fem)

 Warnings: Swearing, gaslighting, stalking, aftermath of noncon, noncon touching

 Summary: The next day can’t be real, can it? Or where y/n goes into work and gets hit by a strong sense of deja vu.

 Word count: 2k

 A/n: I’m so sorry that this a) took so long and b) has so much plot not much else, but well I promise it’ll get creepier next chapter!

 ~*~

The next morning you woke before your alarm clock, which was good because it gave you time for the world’s longest and most thorough shower.

And was also terrible because you woke up and it was still real.

It happened.

 The intensity with which you scrubbed down your body was straight out unhealthy and you only stopped when you realized how close you were to breaking skin. He’d hurt you, but you wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of hurting yourself over him. You were hurting enough as it was.

While that mindset stayed with you, you were also shaking the entire time it took you to put on clothes and get to the office. Leaving your apartment was harder than you had ever imagined it being. For the first time in your life, you could understand those people you sometimes saw on the television, who hadn’t left their homes in years. You’d give anything for a reprive of having to live what was now your daily life. You knew it wouldn’t end and hiding in your apartment sounded oh-so-appealing, if – in your case – completely useless.

You used the short elevator ride down to your apartment lobby for some breathing exercises, put on a smile for your doorman, and in front of the double doors leading out into the Brooklyn sunshine you froze.

You knew Steve wouldn’t be there to follow you around. No, he wouldn’t stoop that low. But then again, he didn’t have to. You were terrified as his words rang in your ears: Good thing I had Buck accompanying you home. As you stared out into the busy street before you, you knew without a doubt, in your heart, that Bucky Barnes, the fucking Winter Soldier, was out there waiting for you. Watching you. Never leaving you. You were fucked. There was no running away.

“Miss? Are you alright?” You turned your head to the porter approaching you from behind his desk where he kept guard over his proverbial sheep, unknowing that you’d been torn by the wolf already.

You forced a smile: “Yes, thank you, uh, “ your eyes flew to his name tag, “George. Work has been keeping me so busy lately I’m turning into the weird professor guy from the movies!” you laughed and George chuckled but eyed you worriedly. “I’ll see you later, Miss. Please take it easy at work today. Tell Mr. Stark to cut you some slack!” You smiled and nodded at him: “Will do. See you tonight” and with that, you pushed through the doors and the pit in your stomach. Out into the bustling life of New York City.

You didn’t look behind you as you briskly walked down the street to the subway, but you could feel Bucky’s eyes on you like the fog creeping in in early October. It was an all-consuming feeling, creeping in from the sea to swallow you whole.

But you kept your head up high. You weren’t a stranger to being afraid, to being bullied. You had been the smartest student in every class you had ever taken and men didn’t appreciate being beaten by a woman. You hadn’t backed down when you were a kid, you wouldn’t bow down now, not to Captain America and most certainly not to the Winter Soldier! You knew you were putting up a façade but if you didn’t you wouldn’t have made it out of bed this morning, maybe never have left it again, but that wasn’t you.

‘Oh yes, the times are changing and those boys better get with the program’, you thought grimly as you stepped into a subway car and crossed your arms, staring at the open doors, waiting for your shadow to make an appearance.

Bucky entered through the doors to your left. You almost missed him, but now that you knew you weren’t looking for blond and beefy but brunette and murdery it was a lot harder for him to play invisible. He was good, but you were better.

But by God was he confused when you approached him. “Good morning, Mr. Barnes. I don’t know what Steve told you about me, or what your involvement in all of this is, but here is what I am telling you: Fuck off. I don’t want to see you or him again, so make sure he gets the message?”

Before Bucky could reply you moved away from him and slumped down in between two elderly ladies, the perfect shield from anyone getting close to you. Even Bucky knew not to harass a woman in front of two NYC ladies. They’d beat him to death with their shopping bags. You smirked at the mental image you had created in your mind, escaping reality even if getting away was only temporary.

Once you were sitting, the pain you had ignored so diligently came back with force. Your lower half was cramping and sore and you wanted to cry from the pain of it, but no, not while Bucky was there. Not ever again, while any man could see. ‘When had you turned to hate men for what one had to you?’ you wondered.

Bucky disappeared one stop before the tower and you were relieved that he seemingly had realized how dead-serious you were.

The second you entered the tower, you were utterly, abnormally calm and finally stopped shaking. You didn’t have a plan yet, but you knew you’d have to get away, away from this place and Steve and all the pain he’d caused you. After all, you could barely move without hurting.

You could go and teach at any university in the country. They’d love to have you. All you needed to figure out how to quit without seeming suspicious. That was going to be difficult because Tony knew you loved your job. But you couldn’t tell him the truth. No one would believe you if you told them the real reason and you had worked too hard to now be labeled as a crazy fangirl/stalker-lady. You huffed. If only they knew who the real stalker was.

You smiled at your secretary, thanked her for the coffee she had bought for you on her way to work. You squared your shoulders and open the door to your office ready to start your day.

When you entered your office you were hit with a strong sense of déjà vu, you started to shiver again and felt all color leave your face. You almost dropped your coffee.

Steve was in your office again. But luckily – blessedly even – so was Tony. What the actual fuck? You cursed in your mind but tried to smile. It didn’t work judging by Tony’s expression.

“Y/n, are you all right?” he asked while crossing the room towards you. “You don’t look too good.” Before Tony’s outstretched hand could touch you, you took half a step back. “I think I’m coming down with something. The flu, I guess,” you mumbled.

“Then why didn’t you stay home?” said a sincerely concerned voice – Steve’s. Sincerely concerned? No, it couldn’t be! Your creepy-man-radar must just be off, right?

“I… I… I promised Jarvis to teach him about the code. I forgot yesterday” you murmured turning to the super-soldier, whose brows were drawn up in concern and he was leaning forward, looking you over as if to check for injuries or signs of your alleged flu. ‘What was going on?’

“Is there anything I can do for you gentlemen?” you asked. Steve smiled at you at that. His smile was stunning. So… open and kind. And WHAT THE HELL??? No! His smile wasn’t kind! He was your rapist! Except that it was. There was no denying that. If your entire body hadn’t been hurting maybe you would’ve started talking yourself into the fantasy that yesterday hadn’t happened, but it did. But his smile was nothing like yesterday. His smile made you want to trust him. 

“Well, y/n, I just wanted to congratulate you and Stevie here wanted to thank you for your speedy work. We were able to arrest 20 people yesterday because of the intel you decrypted.”

“Yeah? That’s great” you forced out and turned back to Tony, but your eyes kept straying to Steve.

“Were you working late again, Gaia?” Tony suddenly asked. Shit. Tony had been on your ass to get a life. “No, no, why?”

“Because you look, and please forgive me for being frank here, worn out and really sick. I told you to take better care of yourself. Work isn’t everything, you know?”

You were about to call Tony out on that, after all, he was famous for his work benders, but Steve never gave you the chance.

“Jarvis, when has Ms y/l/n left her office yesterday?” Once more he sounded concerned. ‘Oh, that bastard’ you thought. Steve knew - of course - that you’d lied to Tony. “At 9 p.m., Captain, 4 hours after her workday usually ends, Sir.”

You wanted to strangle the AI at that moment. 

“Well Tony, if you don’t mind I will take y/n home, then. She obviously needs to rest and I need to head to Brooklyn anyways to meet with Bucky.” Steve sounded offended that you’ lied, so righteous.

“Yes you do that, champ” Tony agreed, absentmindedly, not noticing that Steve had no right knowing where you lived. “Say hi to Buckeroo for me, will ya?” Steve nodded and added “Tony, you can’t work your employees that hard. We talked about this.” His voice was imploring, and a little disgruntled. What was happening?

“Well with this one it isn’t my fault” Tony replied flippantly as he walked to the door. “Take care of yourself y/n, okay?”

“Tony, I’m fine. I’m an adult, I can decide if I am fit to work or not!” You wanted to sound assertive, but you were rather aware that you begged. Tony just smiled at you and grinned: “What the Captain says goes, young lady, trust me it’s for the best.” And with that, he’d left your office, leaving you alone with your tormentor.

You were done for. You knew it. Steve would now pounce on you and break you to pieces and… fuck. You were getting wet. Your brain knew that this was a self-defense mechanism to your body, but your heart felt ashamed. There was no denying that the sex had ended spectatcularly.

You jumped a mile when you felt a gentle hand on your shoulder, ripping you out of your thoughts. “y/n?” Steve’s voice was soft. “It’s time to go home, come on.”

“Don’t touch me” you replied, your voice hoarse with unshed tears. 

“Don’t worry, I can’t catch the flu, you could even cough on me, doll.” Steve joked, as he took your coffee from you and placed it on your table. “Any aches, pains or other flu symptoms?” For the first time since Tony left you, you dared look into his face. He seemed so concerned that you couldn’t help yourself and nodded. “Yeah. “ You sounded defeated even in your own head. “Both.”

“It’s okay, angel. I’ll take you home and take care of you.” Steve wrapped his warm, strong arm around you and moved you out of your office. Everything started to blur together, as he called out to your secretary that you were sick and he was taking you home and he moved you into an elevator and finally maneuvered you into a car. You let him. You let yourself be manhandled. You still didn’t understand what was happening. Where was the man who had almost fucked you to pieces yesterday night? At the thought, more wetness gathered between your thighs and you blushed scarlet as Steve got into the driver’s seat next to you. If any of the rumors about his enhanced senses were true, he’d be able to smell you by now.

As Steve pulled into the crazy Manhatten traffic he said: ”Bucky told me about your little argument this morning” His voice was so soft it lulled you in even more, “and quite frankly darling, I don’t appreciate the language you used nor how unappreciative of my protection you are. I know this must all be difficult for you, but there will still have to be consequences for your behavior,” ‘he sounds like a well-meaning teacher’ you thought confused. “but for today, I think you earned yourself some aftercare for taking my cock so well yesterday.” You felt like you’d been hit by a truck. Steve still sounded absolutely casual, but you froze at the slight mention.

His right hand settled on your thigh. “Breathe, darling, deep breath. It’s gonna be alright. I’m gonna take care of you from now on out.”

[crobby]

house in the sun

happy birthday @brittanyisart !!!! here’s a little something for you!

rating: t || 2.2k words || pepper potts/tony stark

summary: high school sophomores pepper potts and tony stark accidentally meet their future (alternate dimension?) selves and learn the meaning of the word awkward.

—

Pepper Potts knows a lot of things about Tony Stark. She knows that he pretends to like his coffee black, when he really likes it with deadly amounts of sugar. No cream, though. He says too much cream gives him indigestion. She knows that he likes to mumble things to his robots while he’s working on them, almost as if they’ll understand. They just might, for all Pepper knows. She knows that Tony Stark is a genius with an intellect far beyond his age—a sophomore who could best most seniors in college.

The most important thing Pepper Potts knows about Tony Stark is that he absolutely, most definitely, doesn’t like her back. He likes her as a friend, sure, she might just be his second-best friend only after Rhodey. That’s not the problem. The problem is that he doesn't look at her the way she looks at him. He doesn’t do a double-take every time he thinks he might’ve seen her in the hall. He doesn’t want that kind of relationship with her, and that’s okay.

Well, it’s not okay, but she’s accepted it. It’s just another one of the things Pepper Potts knows about Tony Stark.

She also knows that he likes to go over the top with his projects—that he likes to mess around and create crazy things just because he can. That brings her to right now, watching him from a couch in the corner of his workshop as he hammers away at something.

“I thought it’d be better not to ask, but now I’m curious—what are you even making?” Pepper says, folding her legs underneath her.

Tony doesn’t look up from his project. “It’s kind of a portal to another dimension? But also not really. I’m not sure what I’m doing. I'm just messing around.”

“A portal to another dimension is… messing around?” Pepper deadpans, her eyebrows inching their way up to her hairline.

Tony shrugs. “I guess.”

“I came over here to work on our English project, not to watch you break the laws of science. Can we get started on that, please?” Pepper stands up and walks to stand over Tony’s shoulder. She can’t help herself from breathing in the scent of gasoline and expensive cologne that always seems to cling to him. A scent that’s unique to Tony and that Pepper can’t get enough of.

“Yeah, yeah,” Tony mumbles, still enraptured in his project, “Just gimme a second, I think I’m about to figure something out.”

Pepper sighs, resolving to stand next to him until he finishes whatever he’s about to do. It’s okay, really, because as much as she’s anxious to start their project, she likes standing close to him and watching him in his element even more.

“Fuck!” Tony says before a bright, blue light encompasses the entire room.

It’s blinding, and all Pepper can do is shoot her hand forward and grip as tight as she can onto Tony’s arm as she feels her stomach drop.

When the blue light fades and she feels like she’s on solid ground again, Pepper opens her eyes to find herself in a skyscraper overlooking New York City. She’s still clutching Tony's arm, but he doesn’t seem to mind.

People live here, Pepper is sure. Why else would there be jackets slung over the armrests of plush couches and half-filled glasses of water resting on silver countertops? They’re in someone’s home, which makes this whole ordeal even more uncomfortable.

“What happened?” she whispers.

“I don’t know,” Tony says, running an anxious hand through his tousled brown waves.

Before he can say anything else, the elevator doors at the end of the room open up to reveal two people—one in a black AC/DC t-shirt over a blue long-sleeve shirt and one in a put-together pantsuit, the latter tapping away on a tablet as she chuckles at something the former is saying.

Pepper can only gape. That’s them. They’re older. They’re different. But it’s them.

She glances at her Tony, who’s as shocked as she is. “It worked,” he mutters.

The other Pepper and Tony stop in their tracks, just noticing the other occupants of the room.

Other Pepper drops her tablet in shock. It shatters against the floor.

“What the hell?” Other Tony says, “How did you-”

Her Tony cuts him off, “What are you wearing?”

Other Tony frowns, picking at his shirt, “What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?”

“Nothing,” Her Tony says, “It’s a great look if you’re a depressed dad who’s given up. Oh God, is that my future? Is that what’s in store for me? ‘Cause you’re obviously me but, like, fifty years older.”

Other Tony sends an exasperated look at Other Pepper, “Was I always this much of a bastard?”

“Yes,” both Peppers say.

“Is this your building?” Her Tony asks, glancing around the lavish room.

“That’s your biggest concern right now?” Pepper says.

“I want to know!”

Other Pepper places her palm on her forehead. Pepper catches a glimpse of silver on her hand and her heart skips a beat.

“Are you married?” She blurts out.

Other Pepper takes her hand off of her forehead to look at the ring on her finger. She gets a soft look on her face. “Yeah, I am.”

Pepper gasps, “To who?”

When a matching soft look crosses Other Tony’s face, Pepper almost screams. It’s him. She’s married to him.

Her Tony doesn’t seem to catch on, his brow furrowed, “Who is it?” he asks.

Other Tony lifts his hand to show a matching ring.

Her Tony’s eyes grow wide. “Oh,” he says.

Other Pepper frowns, “Are you guys not together?”

Pepper blushes, shaking her head. Her Tony runs a hand over the back of his neck, a blush to match hers spreading over his cheeks.

“Oh,” Other Pepper says.

Other Tony coughs. “Let’s figure out how to get you two home, yeah? Yeah.” He starts walking to the elevator, gesturing for her Tony to follow him, “Come on, I’m gonna need you for this one.”

Her Tony follows, glancing quickly at Pepper before jogging after him.

When it’s just her and the other version of her, Pepper allows herself to flop onto the nearest couch, burying her head into one of the pillows.

Other Pepper sits on the other end of the couch, resting a comforting hand on Pepper’s calf.

“You like him,” she says. It isn’t a question.

Pepper groans pushing her face deeper into the pillow.

“He likes you too, you know.”

Pepper sits up quickly, clutching the pillow to her chest. “He does not.”

Other Pepper smiles, “Does too.”

“Does not!”

“How do you know?”

Pepper squeezes the pillow, resisting the urge to bury her face in it again. “I just do.”

Other Pepper hums, guiding Pepper to rest her head on her lap and placing the pillow back against the armrest. She gently strokes Pepper’s long hair. It’s more comforting than it should be, given that it’s her future (alternate?) self who’s petting her.

“I don’t want to ruin our friendship,” Pepper whispers. “He means too much to me.”

“You have to take risks, love. It took me way too long to realize that. I know you want to measure every step you take, to make sure you’re on the right path, but life is so much better when you just take those steps without measuring them first: when you just live life freely rather than with so much restraint. Believe me, I’ve been there. I know how terrified you are of risks, but this one is worth it.”

“You promise?”

“I promise.”

“What risks have you taken?” Pepper asks.

Other Pepper chuckles, “Far too many to name.”

“Which one was the best?”

“I’m not sure you’ll understand it yet,” Other Pepper says, a faraway look in her eyes.

“Tell me anyway.”

Other Pepper sighs, tucking her hair behind her ear. “There’s someone who’s really important to me, and they were making some decisions that scared me. I didn’t know if each time I saw them would be the last. I was going to walk away from them—I was going to leave before I got hurt. But I didn’t. I stayed, and it was the best decision I’ve ever made.”

“Did you get hurt?”

“Yeah,” She chuckles wryly. “Yeah, I got hurt. But it was okay, in the end. We’re past that, and I couldn’t be more grateful for what I have now.”

Pepper shifts to look up at herself, her head still on Other Pepper’s lap. Her older self seems good. Real good. She has smile lines next to her eyes—something that Pepper had never wanted, but now she does. She wants those same smile lines because then she knows she’ll have been the kind of happy that never really leaves your face, that comes back years later to show that it was there. The kind of happy that isn’t fleeting.

“I think all versions of Tony were meant to love all versions of Pepper,” other Pepper says, “I think it’s a universal constant. What we have—what we’ve always had—is too strong to only be in one universe. It’s too strong to be limited to only us. Even if it’s platonic love, it’s still love.”

“You really think that?” The searing hope blossoming in her chest shouldn’t be so strong, but it is. If all Tonies love all Peppers, then that means there’s a chance for her. There’s a chance.

Other Pepper nods down at her, something warm in her eyes that makes Pepper feel safe.

For a long moment, they don’t say anything. Other Pepper resumes stroking Pepper’s hair, and they simply exist. Pepper finds herself looking around the space, at the photos hanging on walls and sitting on tabletops of them in various stages of life—there’s one of them sitting together on a park bench, eating ice cream. Other Tony has a mint-chocolate chip mustache and Other Pepper’s laughing so hard her eyes are watering. There’s another photograph of them at a gala: Other Pepper in a blue silk gown and Other Tony in a tuxedo. They’re not laughing, but their eyes are. They’re locked in an embrace—a dance, from the looks of it. Pepper longs, so sincerely, so viscerally, for what they have. This place is covered in them, in their love. It’s in the matching mugs in the kitchen sink and even in the way the room smells—like a mixture of something that’s recognizably Tony and something that she remembers from her own home.

Pepper doesn’t know how long they sit there, but eventually the Tonies resurface.

“We did it,” Her Tony says, grabbing an apple off of the fruit bowl on the counter, “We can go home now.”

“That’s good to hear,” Other Pepper says, gently guiding Pepper off of her lap so she can stand up to hug Other Tony.

He grins, pressing a kiss to her cheek.

Pepper glances at her Tony to see how he reacts and finds him looking at her, a faint blush on his cheeks. A matching one forms over hers. They both look away.

They all go back down to the lab, where a machine is whirring and ready to go. Pepper looks at her other self, “Thank you,” she says.

Other Pepper smiles, squeezing Pepper’s shoulder.

“I guess we should, uh,” Pepper gestures to the machine.

“Yeah.”

Pepper and her Tony walk to the machine, which has started to glow bright blue like before. She looks back at their alternate selves one last time and has to pry her eyes away from their joined hands. Before she can convince herself not to, she grasps Tony’s hand in her own as she lets the blue light consume them.

Her stomach drops, and then she opens her eyes to find herself back in her own universe.

“That was…” she begins, then stops.

Tony hums. “What did you think?” He asks. “Of them, I mean.”

Pepper takes a deep breath. “They seemed really happy.”

“Did you ever, uh…” Tony says, but he never finishes his sentence.

Pepper musters up all of her courage. “Think that could be us?” She finishes for him.

Tony blushes, then nods.

“I, um, think it could be. If we wanted it to.”

Tony takes a sharp inhale. “Do you want it to?”

Pepper looks him in the eye, then at the floor. She might as well be running a marathon for how fast her heart is beating. She remembers what other Pepper had said—about every Tony loving every Pepper—and thinks that even if he doesn’t want her romantically, they can still be friends.

So, she takes a chance.

Letting go of his hand, she places hers on either side of his face and brings them together into a kiss. It’s awkward, it’s fumbling. Neither of them knows what they’re doing, really. But it works, because it’s them.

Tony pulls back. “I’m gonna take that as a yes.”

“Yes,” Pepper breathes, before pulling him back in.

Pepper Potts knows a lot of things about Tony Stark. She knows that his lips taste like coffee. She knows that he likes AC/DC more than he lets on. She knows that his hair is soft and lovely to touch.

Most importantly, she knows that Tony Stark likes her back. And that’s enough. They’re enough.

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 267: My Name Is

Previously on BnHA: Hawks stabbed Twice in the back of the head. Twice stabbed another guy in the back of the head. Everyone’s just running around stabbing or being stabbed. I should probably clarify that Twice actually died, because this is a shounen manga, so sometimes you have to clarify that this particular stabbing was actually fatal. Not just one of those flesh wound stabbings. Anyway so it was super sad, and now Dabi’s gonna face off with the sexy scarred murderous Hawks, and Toga and Compress are also going to be feeling a bit stabby after all this probably, and so that’s the general mood here I guess. I kind of need a break now so I’m wondering if we’re gonna cut to any of the kids. Because if we stick around Horikoshi may actually have to give us Dabi flashbacks. God forbid.

Today on BnHA: Tokoyami has a flashback to when Hawks told him he’s weak to being set on fire. This terrible thought weighs on his mind as he and the other lads and lasses of U.A.’s child soldier vanguard are escorted away from the battle via Fatgum and his absolute goat of a quirk. Dabi is all “:D you killed Twice, I’m gonna set you on fire repeatedly now” and Hawks is all “ffff no that’s my weakness also WHO ARE YOU” and WE GET SOME HAWKS FLASHBACKS?! and then Dabi is all “:DDDDDD [CENSORED]” and it’s literally fucking censored fuck my life. but also !!! because he actually fucking said it, though?? He really went and revealed it just like that?? And now Hawks knows, and he’s all shocked, and Dabi goes to kill him afterwards but TOKOYAMI IS ALL “ON YOUR LEFT!!!!” and OH SHIT. Also Endeavor saves Miruko so DOUBLE OH SHIT. Oh my god. I’m sorry this summary is all over the place but I can barely type a coherent sentence now so just TAKE THESE EXCLAMATION POINTS AND GO!!! SPREAD THE WORD. BE FREE.

everyone before we begin I would just like to tell you about my discovery this week. I learned that when I type the word “Dabi” on my phone the next word that the keyboard predicts is “flashbacks.” google keyboard is on to me. so now the FBI and the CIA and whoever else google is selling all my data to all know. I can only imagine. “she seems to spend an inordinate amount of time talking about ‘Dabi flashbacks.’ what’s a Dabi.” I’ll tell you what a Dabi is. it’s a guy whose fucking flashbacks we never fucking get that’s what

anyway so let’s read this chapter whose spoiler tags have already been filling up my dashboard, which is always a good sign. who will die this week? Horikoshi please have mercy on us in light of recent real life global events. maybe you can just have everyone abruptly decide that they are all done fighting and want to go home

-- GOD BLESS US EVERYONE

who could have known, years ago when the very first mangaka was drawing the very first color page, that this medium would one day soar to such great heights. who could have imagined that we would one day be witness to this masterwork, this magnificent fucking triumph of a colored manga page. holy shit. I will cherish this always

for real you all think I’m joking but I genuinely don’t want to scroll down lol. let’s just stay with Miruko forever. where it is safe. and sexy. goddammit

OH SURE, THEY GIVE US HAWKS FLASHBACKS

anyways but lol

guys. we’ve been over this. fire is everyone’s weakness. just. I’m not quite sure people like Hawks and Kamui Woods actually grasp that. do they think normal people catch on fire and they’re just “oh, this is actually all right.” also, side note kids, please don’t use this answer if this ever comes up during a job interview

wow

what a gamechanging plan of action. don’t catch on fire. Toko write that down

WOW

you guys. YOU GUYS. IT GOT BETTER

who could have known, years ago when the very first mangaka was drawing the very first gag panel, that this format would one day ascend to such lofty summits. who could have envisaged that we would one day behold such a showpiece, such a grand fucking slam of a joke panel in a shounen manga

anyway Horikoshi sure does love his English portmanteaus. I’m kind of stunned by how great this is you guys. but getting back to more serious observations, all I can say is thank fucking god somebody is actually thinking of the children! nothing terrible had better happen to them or I swear!!

so Fatgum is explaining that the plan was to have them use their respective quirks to help take out a bunch of bad guys at once, and that the grown-ups will now proceed to rope them all in and capture them. and dammit, I was trying to avoid having to post the panel because it takes forever if I post a lot of them, but I just noticed Mt. Lady over there stomping fools in the background and so now I have no choice

A+ chapter so far you guys. 5 stars. keep it up

one-and-a-half year-old Kaminari Denki has already fallen asleep. he wishes he could live there. I wish I had the words to adequately convey how utterly delighted I have been by this entire “everyone rides around in Fatgum’s belly” mini-arc, which is now my favorite part of the entire series (as always with the exception of “Dear Midoriya I’m really sorry”)

and I also just really love the timing of it?? right after the “here’s that angst you ordered” emotional sobfest of the last chapter, we’re taking a quick break to cut back to the Fatgum Express (excuse me, Fataxi) just to keep things from getting too heavy. this is such an important balance to strike. please don’t let this arc get too dark, Horikoshi

oh shit

right, Dabi?? but I’ve had an entire week to process my feelings about it and I’m more or less good now! how are you

not particularly great, then

and also, fuck. so Horikoshi was gracious enough not to show Twice’s murdered body even though he confirmed he was indeed killed (so apologies to anyone who was still holding out hope. it sucks but at least we’ve got closure). first he cuts off the bottom of the panel, and then he has Dabi literally cremate him on the fucking spot. there’s really going to be nothing left at all of him or any of the clones. I’m just gonna sit here and try not to think about that or else I’ll get sad all over again

anyway, so also Hawks’s wings have been totally incinerated now it looks like, and he’s just barely yeeting himself out of the way with whatever he’s got left

boy this is getting rough

love how Horikoshi is avoiding showing Dabi’s face!! that was sarcasm by the way because I don’t love it! he pulls this shit all the time with Bakugou too! show us their emotions dammit!

anyway. how kind of Dabi to stomp out Hawks’s flames for him like that. you see. they’re still friends

HOLY SHIT

APPARENTLY IT IS??? I GUESS WE ALL GRIEVE DIFFERENTLY LMAO. SOME PEOPLE GET SAD AND CRY AND OTHERS JUST GET REALLY SCARY AND CRAZY

like. not to nitpick or anything, but your tear glands are actually located above your eyes. maybe he means his tear ducts. also I’m not a doctor or anything and I can barely name like three bones actually so maybe I should just shut up!

anyways though, out of courtesy let’s just take Dabi at his word that grinning like a deranged lunatic is a perfectly normal response to watching your friend get murdered by your sexy archenemy. who is to say

and what exactly is your dream again? to make Stain’s will a reality or something like that? so purging the world of false heroes I guess?

DAMMIT DABI FIRE IS HIS WEAKNESS

most people would at least scream, wouldn’t they? Hawks??? does that not hurt??!

DSFKJSL:DKGHLSDKGHL

no!! I won’t be fooled!! Horikoshi and Dabi flashbacks is like Wile E. Coyote and painting a fake tunnel onto a cliffside! don’t be conned by his deceitful forced perspective!

LOL YOU SEE

apparently this man really will do anything to keep us from getting a Dabi flashback, even if that means giving us Hawks flashbacks instead lmao. WELL SHOOT. OH DARN. POOR US. WE’LL JUST HAVE TO SETTLE try not to look too happy guys he can sense satisfaction

anyway so here’s baby Hawks

okay, so -- does fandom still hate Hawks. like, I haven’t checked the bnha tag much since this weekend so I don’t know if the general consensus is still “yeah he’s cancelled” or if we’re cooling down at all yet? anyway so I apologize if liking Hawks is still A Wrong Thing To Do, but just fyi he’s still adopted and I haven’t unadopted him and I love him unconditionally even though he’s in timeout. and so now that Baby Hawks has appeared to rival all other Baby Characters (BABY YODA WATCH YOUR SIX!!) with his lil wings and his Endeavor plush and his quiet lil nodding head, I just need you all to know that I would die for him without hesitation and that’s just how it is friends

(ETA: also, jesus christ. “Keigo-kun, you can say goodbye to your name from now on!" I’m surprised they didn’t assign him a fucking number. what the fuck. time for some grueling training, lab rat #184. better get ready. jesus. he’s like 7.)

sdlkfjLSDGHOSIDFOIOOIIO

THE MAN THAT -- WHAT. WELL HOT DAMN, TAKAMI THEORISTS! GO ON AND GIVE YOURSELVES A BIG PAT ON THE BACK. YOU EARNED IT.

snap. gotta calm down. too much hype all of a sudden. easy does it

OH ARE YOU KIDDING ME THAT’S IT??

noooo go back. fuck

and how the hell do you still have eyebrows, Hawks. how are you still even alive, let alone sexy. is fire your weakness?? is it really??! WELCOME TO BNHA THE MANGA WHERE ANYONE CAN SURVIVE ANYTHING. EXCEPT FOR BEING KILLED OFF-SCREEN AFTER WEEKS AND WEEKS OF BUILDUP

WHAT THE MONUMENTAL FUCK

HORIKOSHI WHERE ARE YOU I’M READY AND WILLING TO VIOLATE SOCIAL DISTANCING RIGHT NOW TO PUNCH YOU IN THE FACE SO COME ON

what the fuck. is this a Tarantino movie. or an Eminem song. anyway but we all know what he actually said though so let’s just scroll down and see how Hawks is going to take the news

oh my. I suddenly understand Dabi’s “grinning like a lunatic” reaction to witnessing a tragedy now. ohhhhhh that’s the good angst right there

so now Dabi says that if he wasn’t Hawks’s target in the beginning, then Hawks “would’ve been done for from the start”? ...what. lol what. am I just too tired to understand this you guys. I’m so confused

okay well I still have no fucking clue what that all meant but on the next panel he’s saying that Hawks shouldn’t have been focusing on Tomura or the League

is he suggesting that he has the power to bring down the hero system by revealing that he, the son of Endeavor, was made into a villain? am I reading into this right?

holy moses. I can’t believe this is really happening. this plotline is finally on the move oh my god I can’t even I’m getting way too excited I can’t??

HEY WHAT

well it matters to me you big melodramatic jerk!! don’t even pretend like you’re really gonna do it. I have zero fear of Hawks actually dying right now, not after that. there is way too much plot attached to him, gtfo with this fakeout shit

but more importantly, why the fuck are we cutting to Gigantomachia now oh shit. don’t tell me Fatgum got the babies out of there just in time

FUCK ME I NEARLY SCREAMED OUT LOUD

HE CAN BE ACTIVATED BY THE RECORDING OF AFO!! SOMEONE HAS THE FUCKING ON SWITCH IN THEIR HANDS OH SHIT, THERE’S THE DISASTER WE WERE ALL FUCKING WAITING FOR RIGHT THERE

WE’RE CUTTING BACK TO MIRUKO NOW??? CAN THIS CHAPTER GET ANY MORE HYPE MY GOODNESS GRACIOUS

let the bodies hit the floor let the bodies hit the floor let the bodies hit the floor let the bodies hit the [deep breath] FLOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO --

OH NO!?

okay like any reasonable person I am very concerned by the implications of this. and yet a part of me just wants to focus entirely on the “AM I GETTING TIRED AFTER LOSING AN ARM AND A SHITLOAD OF BLOOD AND FIGHTING FIVE NOUMUS ALL BY MYSELF FOR LIKE AN HOUR? ...NAH.” you’re absolutely right Miruko that would be ridiculous

ARE YOU SERIOUS

either she’s about to die and she knows it, or SHE WAS JUST TOYING WITH THEM WHAAAAT. I genuinely don’t even know which it is?? but it better not be the former and it absolutely is the latter though

GOSH DARN THAT MIRUKO

THERE SHE GOES. MY CZARINA

excuse me did this guy just fucking impale her

SHE ONLY HAS THE ONE GOOD HAND LEFT LIKE CAN YOU PLEASE. can you fucking not, though?! and also I forgot that being impaled through the torso is another thing in this series that’s actually fatal. well fuck

(ETA: also he ripped out her hair!! look here you piece of shit I’m gonna --)

lmao but yeah, somehow

Horikoshi. if you kill off your one cool strong top ten female hero character. just so you know. I will. ...you know what, just don’t do it, how about that. just don’t

ohhhhhh I might be about to get really mad you guys. we’ll see. we’lllllll see

SON OF A BITCH

GODDAMMIT, OBVIOUSLY TOMURA CAN’T FUCKING DIE SO WHY DON’T YOU FUCK OFF WITH THIS ENTIRE SCENARIO YOU’RE PRESENTING TO US RIGHT NOW HORIKOSHI, HOW ABOUT THAT. fuck everything I can’t believe chapter 267 page 16 was the last page of the entire manga you guys. tell me I’m reading way too much into this

ffffff

you literally had the perfect chapter. Fataxi!! Baby Hawks!! censored Touya reveals!! why would you go and. ...

I knew it was a mistake reading past that amazing color page you guys

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

OH MY GOD I DIDN’T SCREAM BUT I SAID “HA HA!” OUT LOUD?!

-- AND AGAIN!!!!!

YOU WANT SOME??? YOU WANT SOME?!?!

FUCK YES. EXCUSE ME WHILE I CRACK OPEN THE WINDOW AND SHOUT SOME EARNEST “WOOOOOOO!!”S DOWN UNTO THE CONFUSED STREETS BELOW

y’all. I was this close to cancelling every damn thing. you don’t even know. my god I think I was grinding my teeth there

“you know what this manga has had quite enough of as of last week? tragic deaths! you know what it has not had nearly enough of? dramatic last minute saves! you know what it hasn’t had any of? TOKOYAMI VERSUS DABI, A.K.A. YOUR NEW FAVORITE MATCH-UP OF ALL TIME, YOU’RE FUCKING WELCOME.” geez. calm down Horikoshi. be cool man be cool

you guys. it was almost perfect, and then it wasn’t, and then it very much was. my god. how did I not see that Tokoyami save coming with all that buildup in hindsight. clearly he saw the fire on page four and was all “oh no! his weakness”

only thing is. it’s yours too, bud. :/ don’t think I’ve forgotten how this all played out during the forest arc. and meanwhile on top of that we’ve got Gigantomachia about to have the rudest of awakenings. goddammit. why is everything so dangerous and so awesome thanks I love it but geez

[bae-science]

now newt you may be thinking you’ve decided to double major and have a minor in your greatest act of nomative determinism yet how could you POSSIBLY have time to keep your mind sharp and sexy with real books and still read fanfic? well i’m going to college in a pandemic, that’s why. hardest battles sexiest soldiers and all that. here’s some white boy tuesday.

Overworked by Ferrety

WHAT a good good depiction of a meltdown and an even better autistic hermann. great fresh voice that feels true to character, the buildup is well paced so that when the h/c does hit it’s well-earned and cathartic, and all in all some really good classic lab era whump

double back by @ghostpressure

ghost drift translated to prose is really hard to pull off, so big kudos for keeping things poetic and mind-fucky, but still coherent and easy to understand. i love the little crystalized moments we get that tell us how clearly hermann is cataloguing them, which is a great detail to show inner thoughts rather than telling. i love love love the dialogue; it bounces the line between proper banter and the more serious, introspective tone the fic takes very well

All Clear by @trifoliate-undergrowth (NSFW)

this bitch has the TROPES. hate makeouts? arguments turn to more? trapped somewhere together and tension rises as they’re forced to wait it out? WALL SLAM HELLO. never before have i actually seen so many classic newmann faves for nsfw in one place and it’s like the scholastic book fair for adults. very cute voice for hermann as well, because oh yeah, he really is a dude in his late 20s and not actually an 80 year old turtle in a sweater

heat of the moment by @kingeiszler (NSFW)

if any of you so much as LOOK at me i will stomp you to death with my hooves. trans horny newt rights also i was NOT expecting that angst with a happy ending moment at the end but like fuck. this fic is packing about as much good stuff as the front of newt’s hot topic jeans. hermann gottlieb god of WAP

Dress Code by @arcanemoody

there are not enough fics centered around newt and his self-image post-pru and ESPECIALLY not enough dealing with him finding his style again. i think this concept is such a good one to explore nonbinary newt through (if i get a single “kinnie” in my askbox i’m writing a fic where stan twitter outs the precursors as possessing newt because they made an account and popped off. do not test me you all know i’m fucking crazy but i’m free) since so much of gender presentation is in clothes, along with the other stuff the precursors clearly took over in uprising. and then i know we all love to interpret the “whoever will take him” as newt being bi but i’m always glad when it’s noted in fic, and the way it’s used to develop his character works very well

The Geiszler-Gottlieb Wedding by Goldmoth

if for nothing else please go to the second chapter of this fic and read the playlist because i literally fell out of my bed laughing and had a bump on the back of my head the size of a cherry. worth it.

Baby, I’m a fool for you by @that-one-fandom-chick

wingman vanessa supremacy. twilight soundtrack supremacy. hermann meeting newt while he’s in a band SUPREMACY also with a lot of these fics combining it with “first meeting” everything usually goes wrong, but it was so refreshing to have that extremely cute diner scene at the end.... the old friend mitski vibes of it all........ gay hands hermann rights

Now We Have the Salad by MnemonicMadness

i wanna say right off the bat this concept tickles me so deeply because if a non diabetic person switched bodies with a t1d (moi) i would have to helicopter parent 90% of everything they did if i didn’t want to, like. die. or at least have a fucked a1c. anyway this is a really great twist on the body swap trope that takes full advantage of hermann’s disability as a plot point, and with the added variety of being post-uprising. that last bit is what makes the story work, actually, because if it were simply pr1 era, you wouldn’t really have an excuse for newt so desperately wanting to give hermann time in a pain-free body without it coming off as pitying and insensitive. but tack on the guilt of the precursors, and what they did to hermann, and you have the perfect justification for newt’s actions. smart writing! and some good old mortifying ordeal of being known that stays tasteful in context

i’m drawn to you, honey, like the sea to the fisherman’s daughter by @campgender  

i love a good post pr1 beach house fic i cannot lie! “newt and hermann don’t have ppdc jobs anymore but they sure do have trauma!” fics have sort have gone out of fashion post-events that occurred in 2018, but this one is a very good blast from the past. i love the beginning, which is such a fucking accurate depiction of how people used to having to be hyper competent in traumatic situations react to it being all over abruptly. i LOVE LOVE the ending, it’s so true to character and what i hope a good pr2 would have done for newt. this thing is chock-full of so many good lines, like “Maybe I don’t know how to live with nice things.” fucking MOOD and “’If you’re good enough at what you do,’ Hermann says firmly, ‘which you are, people tend to pretend as if the rest of it doesn’t exist.’” is so so accurate to the academia climb when you’re disabled, let me fucking tell you. great moment after great moment.

I’ve Got Your Letter by @coloredpencilroses

A if i rec this then ten things i hate about you au in my mouth please. please. please. anyway this fic is SO fun and good i love the writing style and how the humor is fun and consistent throughout both povs, the slowburn keeps things agonizing but has enough fun characters and plot to keep you invested and not just begging for an end so you can skip to it, TENDO KING OF BRAIN CELLS, and i haven’t seen you’ve got mail so i’m literally saving it until this thing finishes to keep the suspense. excellent fic for autumn

now usually this is where i plug my most recent work but since #theprecursorsareoverparty has spawned a more vitriol and hateful reaction than i ever could have dreamed, read i never liked that ending either and get yourself some culture. and stan tom stoppard

[captainchrisstan]

My Leather Guy

Summary: Bucky has to make things right, even if it means losing you.

words: 1935

Warnings: none... a little bit of Smut... (but if you find any please let me know)

Pairing: Biker!Bucky x Reader.

A/N: This was made with love for @saiyanprincessswanie​ !!! My prompt was “Nice ass” / “it´s all yours”

Hey guys! <3 my mother language is not English, so if there is any mistake please help me to improve. Also, my work is not allowed to be on other platforms. Just comment, like and reblog <3

Bucky kisses your lips for the last time to see you leave for the club stairs that lead straight to the rooms upstairs, with a sigh he turns around to see his best friend Steve and almost friend Tony at a table watching him expectantly.

Bucky knows their faces too well to know what they want answers to their questions, today would be the sixth time you've stayed with them in less than two weeks. The problem wasn't that you stayed, they loved you, the real problem was that you lied to your father who was also the leader of one of the New York City motorcycle clubs.

"I hope you got it right this time Bucky," Tony says as he brings his beer to his lips but stops halfway through. "That you stood in his driveway like a decent man" as the silence drags on Steve lets out a big sigh.

"He escaped out the window again?" Steve asks what Bucky nods to. "Bucky... I understand that you love her I went through the same thing with Natasha... the thing is we can't get into trouble now that they've agreed to ally themselves with us to corner the Hydra club"

"If it were up to me, I would have told his father by now." Bucky interrupts.

"Does her father beat her?" Tony asks, and the blonde looks at him expectantly.

"No! It's just that she doesn't want to disappoint him."

"Bucky, you're the best man in the club-"

"Steve I'm not saying that... It's because of his mother... since his mother died his dad has made sure he doesn't follow in his footsteps" Tony and Steve look expectantly at Bucky, waiting for answers. "That doesn't end up with a biker.”

"Oh God too late!" Tony says quickly as he grabs his leather jacket on the back of his chair and stands up. "Looks like the conversation is going to get sentimental so I'll see you tomorrow" and without further ado, Tony walks away from the door.

"Look Buck... if you want some advice... You'd better go to his father and tell him" Bucky opens his mouth to say something but Steve raises a hand "Let me finish please, Hydra has been up to our asses since they got to town, they have been trying to wipe out our business and theirs. If he finds out you're sneaking around with her daughter and goes crazy and finishes the deal; we'll be in danger, not just us as a club, but our partners as well"

A few minutes later Bucky thoughtfully climbs the stairs, what Steve was saying was true, he was putting the whole group, no, his family in danger with his selfishness and that could not continue to happen. When he got to the door of his room a soft humming could be heard through it, when he opened the door he found himself with y/n with his headphones lying on her stomach in bed with his back to the door, his pajama shorts barely covering his ass and he was wearing one of Bucky's t-shirts to sleep, closing the door to lean on it, Bucky simply watched his girlfriend and how much he was going to miss being with her once they told your father.

Feeling a change in the air y/n realizes that she is not alone, turning quickly in bed she sees her boyfriend leaning on the door, she smiles but her smile does not last long because of the look in Bucky's eyes. y/n knows that something is wrong.

"What's wrong, love?" she quickly gets out of bed to go to her boyfriend.

"We have to tell your father"  I knew that this day would come, I knew that the moment those words came out of Bucky's mouth their lives would have to go their separate ways forever. 

"Tomorrow we'll both go together, I promise," hugging Bucky around the neck and he's hugging her around the waist. "Would you kiss me?" one last time she thought 

Bucky's lips feel like feathers on the skin, they both know this could be goodbye and they would both make the most of it. Without rushing, they take off their clothes and throw them away so who knows which part of the room, when y/n's legs touch the bed he gently pushes it. Skin on skin meet and fireworks explode as the moaning fills every corner of the room.

In the large double bed, they try to calm their breaths, both have their heads full of possible scenarios of what could happen tomorrow, but in Bucky's head are the most tragic.

Little whispers of 'I love you' and 'I'll always be with you' fill the room until y/n's voice is interrupted by a yawn from her, Bucky puts one arm around her shoulders and draws her as close to his body as he can.

Bucky goes down the stairs with the little courage he has left in his body, when he sees the time on the wall clock he deduces that his father-in-law could be in the club's bar, without wasting any more time he goes to Steve to communicate his decision. This one is on the same table where he left it a few hours ago.

"Steve, I'm gonna go tell y/n's dad" Steve looks up from the documents to focus on Bucky.

"Give me 5 minutes and I can join you" with one hand on his shoulder Bucky stops his best friend.

"I don't think you understand me, Steve... I'll go alone," Steve looks at him not knowing what to do. It wasn't that they were afraid of Y/N's father, only that he was a man respected by many, almost a legend. "If I'm not back in three hours... you know what to do." Without saying anything else, Bucky hands Steve a sealed envelope with Y/N's name on it. Bucky always so dramatic thought Steve as he saw Bucky's figure coming out of the bar.

The road to the other side of New York was long and tense for Bucky, his Harley stopped just outside the Death and Co Bar as he took off his helmet hesitantly for a couple of seconds before grabbing what's left of his confidence and going in.

The place reeked of alcohol and cheap cigarettes, and the place was barely visible in the dim light of the tavern. In the distance, he could see a group of men in leather jackets with the symbol of the American flag on their backs. 

As he approached the group of men he could quickly make out the father of Y/n, with a soft cough by Bucky the men at the table stood still and quickly looked in Bucky's direction.

"But look who we have in this fucking place... Nothing more or less than the right hand of the famous captain", your father was looking bucky in the eye who wished he was 3 miles away from that place.

"I've come to talk to you, sir," Bucky mentally kicks himself, his voice must sound firm. "Alone." Without further ado, Jim "The King" stands up from the table with a head taller than Bucky. 

“Follow me”

As he leaves the bar Jim leans against the wall and pulls out a cigarette, Bucky is nervous, his hands are sweating and his breathing is labored.

"It's about my daughter, right?" Stunned Bucky doesn't know what to do or say so he just nods. "I've known all along," Bucky's soul leaves his body. "Ever since my Betty died and left me with the task of raising our daughter I always knew this day would come... I always knew you guys had something because Y/N is the spitting image of her mother, and she's not too quiet when she escapes out the window either" the latter brings a smile to Bucky's face. Jim takes his last breaths into the cigarette and drops it, putting it out with the sole of his shoes. "Your mother and I were doing the same thing you do... We were running away and lying to our parents... Come on son, let's go have some beers", without further ado Jim opens the door of the bar, Bucky perplexed, expecting everything but that, so he just follows him inside the establishment.

Two hours later Bucky finds himself saying goodbye to all the club members and heading for his bike, Jim is waiting for him at the door.

"Hey, son," unprepared Bucky feels like the right side of his face is hit with something, "This is just a precaution, okay?. If I see my daughter crying over you, the beating will be much bigger." When Bucky comes out of his trance he just nods and pats his shoulder. "Perfect!, have a good trip boy" the door of the place closes and Bucky throws a spit to throw the blood in his mouth, touching his jaw he realizes that Jim didn't manage to break anything, fortunately, but he won't be able to put the helmet on because of the swelling that is forming on his face. Was too good to be true

Upon entering the bar Bucky can see that the place is almost dead without counting Natasha who is cleaning the bar and Steve leaning on this flirting with her. 

"Shit Bucky I think you lost the fight man!" Natasha tries to hold back the laughter, but she can't and Steve just shakes his head.

"Yeah, anyway... I'll see you guys in a little bit" walking up the stairs to Bucky's rooms doesn't stop thinking about how well the situation turned out, about Jim's reaction that he didn't grow up and that now they practically had a free hand so they wouldn't be hiding like two teenagers.

"What the fuck happened to your face, Bucky?!" Bucky had unwittingly entered the room and found y/n at the edge of the bed, wiping her eyes.

"I've gone to talk to your dad" without more y/n gets out of bed and throws Bucky by his wrist to the bathroom of the room, when Bucky enters he can see his reflection in the mirror, his cheekbone was already taking a purple color and his eye was swelling more and more without counting with the little cut under his eye, with a pressure in the chest y/n makes Bucky sit in the toilet while she takes out the first aid kit. 

A few seconds later she finds herself delicately touching her boyfriend's face with a wet cotton ball to get the dried blood out. A little sobbing gets Bucky out of his trance and he realizes that he's screwed up, with his hands he touches his girlfriend's naked legs to somehow comfort her.

"I didn't want the three of us to talk in case it got too big, I just wanted to protect you." He whispers

"Bucky, he's my dad, he wouldn't hurt me and you know it.

"The situation could have gotten dangerous and you know it," bucky sighs, "I just want to make things right... besides, your dad already knew about us."

"What?!" y/n stops wiping Bucky's face and waits expectantly for an answer.

"He said you weren't very quiet going out the window.”

"Oh, God... What a shame" they both laugh and the atmosphere relaxes a bit.

"Does this mean I'm forgiven?"

"I'd have to think about it a little bit more" playing bucky up his hands and grabbing his girlfriend's ass through his pajama shorts.

“Nice ass”

“It’s all yours, baby”

[pertinax--loculos]

Update

Gonna try a new thing. I've seen these weekly updates from other writeblrs and it appeals to me because I can blather about writing or lack of writing (if it's been one of Those weeks), I can also include anything else I want, and it's a manageable goal to have for a start.

Tentatively breaking it up into writing, reading OR watching, real life (if applicable), and possibly excerpt (again, if applicable).

So! (Warning: This is long. I seriously babble like nothing else.)

Currently Writing Absent That Night (tagged: WIP: ATN)

wordcount: no clue, it's all on my phone and I've been writing scenes I'd previously written snippets for, so it's a mash-up. (Which reminds me I need to back it all up at least onto my computer.)

Proud of the short summary I did for my pinned post, so repeating it here:

Agent Latrell has been chasing the thief known as Nox for more than three years; but when bodies start turning up at his crime scenes, he’s the only one who believes Nox isn’t responsible. Unfortunately, he’s also the only other suspect. In order to clear his name, he’s going to have to find the real killer; and the only way to do that is to team up with a criminal who, it turns out, he knows absolutely nothing about.

still love love LOVING this WIP. I've got pages and pages of notes, and it is probably getting a wee bit too complex with subplots and suspects etc, but I'm an overwriter anyway so if I end up with a 200k word draft then shrug. More to work with

dunno if I mentioned or just thought it was obvious because I know it so well, but it has an enemies/rivals-to-allies(lovers?) (sub?)plot. So I've been pulling out a lot of threads there

technically I'm up to about halfway between the catalyst and break into two. Definitely not hardcore plotting but I do have an idea of the beats I wanna follow in the back of my head

Nox is still a fucking mess. I should probably stop piling trauma onto him, poor guy

my favourite creation this week is Mark Gault, who is a secondary/minor character who is amazing in every way. He is both essentially a ruthless mercenary and the "I LOVE MY WIFE" guy. (I also keep calling him Grant, instead of Mark, because he's actually the father of a character who first appears in Phase Two of CASCADE. (!!!))

basically happy with how it's all going this week. Regular writing is getting the juices flowing and it's easier to come up with ideas even when I've only got a vague notion of what is supposed to happen in the scene.

guys i am such an overwriter this is ridiculous please send help this scene was supposed to be like 2.5k total and it's turned into 4-5 scenes and is like 10k long dear god--

Currently Reading Blue Lily, Lily Blue by Maggie Stiefvater, book three of the Raven Cycle

I have not just jumped in at book three of a series, I have read the previous two.

in the last week.

I've read eleven books in the last five weeks, so that's... something.

they have all been thrillers except for this series. (And also Girl One, which despite being marketed as a thriller was definitively NOT a thriller. Which, yes, I should've guessed from the tag line, but I'm still mad about it.)

I am in love with the prose. It feels similar to mine, but Better, and I have been unconsciously mimicking it.

(which may be a problem when I finish it and am still writing ATN, but that is an issue for Future Pockets)

ngl I was not a fan of the way the first book ended. Not only did I have to reread the final line multiple times in order to even begin to grasp it, but I kinda think it's a dick move to end on a cliffhanger, even for an established author and clear indications this was gonna be a series

(but you bought the next book, didn't you? DIDN'T YOU??)

very very much enjoying the series, to be concise (ha!). Love the characters and it's all pretty tightly paced. The overarching series arc kiiinda maybe feels a bit slow/irrelevant, and some of the motivations annoy me, but I keep reminding myself it's YA in which the motivations are in character, so

not far into this one yet but so far so good

I wrote this earlier this week and since have begun thinking the series arc is becoming more relevant, but am reserving judgement. Reading slower with work and reading but still enjoying it all

Real Life

continues to be mostly a pain in the ass. Apps in for a second job, research on next year ongoing

update: may have the dream second job, basically waiting for confirmation (fingers crossed!)

one of my housemates is the literal devil, although even that is being quite kind to her. The nice one is moving out because of it. People keep asking how I've lived in this house for three years. I have no answer.

enjoying writing time in evenings and feeling mentally pretty good thanks to exercise

Excerpt Long, nearly 900 words, but a favourite of recent pieces and also something I coincidentally wrote today. Nox and Latrell's third meeting, when Latrell is still, uh... resistant to the idea of working with him:

"Why me?" Not at all the way Latrell had intended to phrase it, but he couldn't take it back. He continued, quickly, instead, jumbled thoughts pouring out of his mouth. "Surely that's the least you can give me. You come to me and ask me to fucking help you after you've made the last three months of my life living hell, you can at least fucking tell me why the fuck that is. You owe me that much. I'm not letting you fucking walk away until you fucking answer me that."

Nox was silent for a long moment. He ran a calculating gaze up and down Latrell, as if searching for something; it wasn't apparent whether or not he'd found it when he said, softly, "And if I don't?"

Latrell was abruptly very aware of the weight of the handcuffs in his back pocket. He would have to move quickly. There was every possibility Nox would see this coming, especially if he'd been arrested before. But Latrell was quietly confident. He inched his hand back, keeping it subtle, eyes on Nox's face.

"In that case," he said, as evenly as he could. His fingertips brushed warm metal. "Perhaps we should try something--"

Everything went white.

For a moment Latrell thought he'd somehow lost consciousness; that he'd underestimated Nox's affinity for violence, that the man had punched him or otherwise managed to incapacitate him without otherwise moving. Then it occurred to him that he was still thinking, which essentially took unconsciousness off the table, and he realised, vaguely, that it was an illusion.

It was very, very convincing.

The entire world was an endless expanse of emptiness. Utterly, absolutely white, a whiteness that could not and should not exist. Latrell was overcome by a sensation of falling, of plummeting into nothingness; he had to concentrate to feel his feet still on the ground, to know he was still upright. He had nothing to orient himself. There was no up, no down, no left or right. Just that endless expanse of a lack of colour. He was hanging in nothingness, or everything.

"You forget who you are dealing with, Agent."

Latrell swallowed down nausea. Nox's voice came from startlingly close, the sound of it somehow wrong, which objectively he knew came from the fact that his brain was convinced it should sound small and insubstantial in this endless void but it sounded normal because he was actually still standing in the alley. It was academic knowledge only. He still felt like he was tipping or falling or rising, weightless and disoriented. He had no voice, no ability to open his mouth.

Experimentally he tried to take a step. He couldn't lift his foot off the ground. Physically, he was sure he could -- he could still twitch his fingers, if he thought about it -- but his mind was convinced that there was nothing to step away from, nothing to step onto. Just nothing, nothing, nothing. A brightness that wasn't a light, a void constructed of the pieces between atoms.

Nox's voice came from his other side this time. "I have attempted to do this civilly, but there are other options."

It was a struggle to concentrate on his words, close as they were. Latrell tried to narrow his focus to only sound, tried to ignore the nothingness he was suspended in, tried to tell himself it was all an illusion. Just something Nox wanted him to see. The Orn, threaded through his eyes or brain or soul, acting upon Nox's orders.

It didn't help. He was still in freefall.

"Do not," Nox's voice came, a bare whisper in his ear, breath brushing Latrell's neck, "Presume to test me."

Abruptly the white disappeared. Latrell was back in the alley, trying to adjust to the change of light, trying to find where Nox had gone. Turning his head made the ground roil beneath him and he staggered, utterly disoriented.

Fingers closed around his forearm, steadying him, and Latrell looked up to find Nox inches away.

"Easy, Agent," he purred. His smile was more a baring of his teeth.

Latrell wrenched away from him, staggering until his back connected with a comfortingly solid wall. He was dizzy, brain still adjusting to reality, but he managed to straighten his spine and set his shoulders. He kept his hands in front of him. In Nox's view.

"Do we have an understanding?" Nox said, still silky and low.

"Screw you," Latrell said, voice faint and alien.

Nox's smirk sharpened. "I thought so. Lovely chat, Agent Latrell." He sauntered past where Latrell stayed pressed against the wall, hesitated at the corner of the alley. "Keep up the good work."

He stepped forward and disappeared from view.

Latrell's breath left him in a rush and he doubled over, bracing himself on his knees. His head still spun, the unpleasant sensation he'd come to expect from vertigo. The backs of his eyelids were painted with a stark blank white. Every time he blinked he was engulfed.

It was far beyond any illusion he'd ever experienced. It was approaching the type he'd only ever read about in scientific articles.

You forget who you are dealing with, Agent.

Perhaps he had. But this assault supplied more than a reminder.

It also provided a piece of the puzzle.