#especially the first and last gifs because you can see his MASSIVE jacket!!!

[bbbrianjones]

Journeys Into The Outside with Jarvis Cocker

[thebookreader12345]

Not Gone Yet

Pairing: Connor Rhodes x reader

Summary: Connor’s supposed to be taking a job at the Mayo Clinic, but when Y/N finds him back at work next shift, she questions why he didn’t leave

Requested: Yes, by anonymous

Warnings: slight swearing, mention of injuries

Word Count: 1,556 Words

It all started the day Connor and I first met. 

Flashback

I was waiting for the next patient to come through the ambulance bay doors. There had been a huge train accident, and dozens of people were being sent our way. All of the doctors had been given people to work on, and now it was just me. Just then, a gurney barreled through the double doors, and on top of my patient was a young, handsome looking man.

“28-year-old male with crush injuries, a severed artery, and massive blood loss,” the man informed me as I grabbed ahold of the gurney and escorted it into the nearest available trauma room. “I got a tourniquet on his right leg and tried to intubate, but I couldn't get his jaw open. He lost his pulse on the ride.” 

“Put him on our monitor and rapid transfuser,” I order the nearest nurse. “Also, grab 4 units of O-neg and start with a round of Epi.” 

“I already hit him with Epi twice. Still no pulse. He's in fib,” the man told me. 

“All right, I’ve got it from here,” I exclaim. 

“If you don’t mind, I’d like to stay,” the guy stated.

“If you don’t mind me asking, who the hell are you?” I retort.

“I'm the new trauma fellow,” the man replied. After the patient had been passed off to a surgeon, I went looking for the man who had helped me earlier, and I found him in an empty patient room attempting to do stitches on his bicep.

“You need some help?” I question.

The man shook his head. “Nope. I’m good.”

“Okay. And uh, thanks for the help earlier,” I say.

“It was no problem. I’m Connor Rhodes, by the way,” the man greeted me.

I smiled. “Y/N L/N.” I then looked down at his cut, and when I saw that his stitches were near perfect, I was tremendously impressed. “You closed that almost perfectly. Where'd you pick that up?” 

“Riyadh,” Connor replied. “I spent a year there after my residency. Saudis paid me well not to leave unsightly scars.” 

“Well, it was nice meeting you Connor. I hope to see you around,” I claim.

“Yeah. I hope so too,” Connor spoke with a smile.

Flashback End

That was a few years ago, and now, we were friends. Great friends. However, for me, there was always something a little more between us. I had gained feelings for my co-worker, and no matter how much I tried to get rid of them, they wouldn’t go away. So I hid them. And now, Connor was taking a job at the Mayo Clinic, and tonight we were having a going away party for him. I was milling around the little Hawaiian themed bar on the riverfront, talking to other co-workers and such, and when I finished greeting everyone that I needed to, I walked off to find Connor. I eventually found him on a little dock peering at the river down below, and I went to join him.

“You, sir, are missing your lei,” I tell him and slide the bright pink flower necklace over his head. “And you’re also missing out on your party. Whatcha doing here all alone?”

“Just thinking,” Connor responded and stared out at the water.

“About?” I question.

Connor shrugged. “A lot of different stuff, I guess.”

“Well, seeing as you’re my best friend, I am not going to let you sulk in the corner all night. This is the last time we’re going to get to hang out in who knows how long, and I’m going to make it worth every second. Come on,” I demand and lace my hand with his before dragging him back to the party. As the music’s volume loudened, I led Connor over to the designated dance floor and began to dance alongside some of my co-workers.

“What are you doing?” Connor asked and laughed.

“Dancing, and you’re making me look stupid, so please dance with me,” I say. Connor hesitated, but soon gave in, and together we moved to the beat of the music. Connor twirled me around before pulling me back into his arms, and then we just stayed there in each other’s embraces. I wrapped my arms around his neck and rested my cheek on his shoulder, inhaling the familiar scent of his cologne. For a few minutes, we just stood there, holding each other tightly, neither of us wanting to let go. “I’m gonna miss you so much,” I murmur.

“I’m gonna miss you too,” Connor mumbled into my hair and gave me a soft squeeze. And that was the last night I was supposed to ever see my best friend. I took my next shift off so that I could gather myself before going back to work, because once I had left the party and made it back to my apartment, I was a sobbing mess. I changed into some comfortable clothes, climbed into bed, and then cried myself to sleep. It was hard losing a best friend, especially someone I was so close with like Connor. After a few days though, my break was over, which meant I had to get back to work. Part of me wanted to take another day off because I didn’t want to go back to the hospital and not see Connor, but the other half of me knew that it was time to get back to my normal routine. I promised myself I would text Connor later, and once I got dressed, I headed to the hospital. When I walked through the ED doors, memories of Connor and I doing the same hit me, but I pushed them away and tried to focus on something else, and that just happened to be the doctor with curly ginger hair standing a few feet away from me.

“Hey, Will,” I greet and lean against the nurses’ station next to him.

“Hey, Y/N. How was your break?” Will asked and set down the tablet he was looking at.

“Good,” I reply. “It was much needed. So, you got any good cases you need help on?”

Will laughed. “You haven’t even put your stuff away yet. Come see me after that and then we’ll see.” I nodded and made my way to the doctors’ lounge, desperate to shed my bag and jacket so that I could get a case that would distract me. However, when I entered the lounge, I froze in my tracks. There, standing not even a dozen feet away from me, was Connor Rhodes, clad in a pair of black scrubs.

“Connor?” I question.

Connor looked up from his phone, and when he saw me, he smiled. “Y/N, hey.” I dropped my bag to the floor and launched myself into his arms, squeezing him tightly. For a few seconds, we stayed in each others’ arms, but eventually, I pulled away.

“What the hell are you doing here? Why aren’t you gone yet? You’re supposed to be in Minnesota,” I point out.

“I know, but the board agreed to run my Hybrid OR project, and they wanted me to stay and run the program,” Connor explained.

I smiled. “That’s great. I’m happy that your project is taking off.”

“That’s not really why I decided to stay though,” Connor stated. “I decided to stay because of you.”

“W-what?” I stammer out as Connor grabbed ahold of my hands.

“I stayed in Chicago for you, Y/N. You’ve always felt like more than a best friend to me, and I didn’t want to pass up the chance to be with you. If you feel the same way, of course,” Connor added. Without hesitation, I leaned up and pressed my lips to Connor’s. He kissed back immediately, winding his arms around my waist to pull me closer. I melted into Connor’s body, enjoying the warmth that emitted from him, along with the way it felt to be kissing him. Our lips moved together in sync for as long as possible, until finally, we had to pull away to breathe. “I’m really glad you feel the same way,” Connor confessed.

“Me too. I uh, I actually have to get back out to the ED to help Will with a case, but can we meet up after shift?” I quiz and shove my things into my cubby.

“Of course,” Connor answered. “I can’t wait. I’ll see you later.”

“Yeah. See you later. Oh, and good luck with the OR,” I call out as I left the residents’ lounge. I made my way over to Will, who was grinning like an idiot, something he didn’t do too often. “What?” I ask.

Will nodded to Connor, who had just exited the lounge and was making his way to the elevator. “I saw that.”

“No you didn’t,” I argue, my face turning a deep shade of red.

“Except I did,” Will countered. “So, are you going to tell me what just happened, or do I have to go hit up Connor for the details?”

I laughed and shook my head. “Neither. What you are gonna do though is cough up that case you said you had so we can get to work.”

“All right, but this conversation isn’t over,” Will said.

“It is for now. So, what do we got?” I question and look at the tablet in front of Will.

________________________

Tag List:

@prettypyschoinpink @securityfriendly-jay @scarletsoldierrr @lorenakaspersen @virtualreader @carnationworld @caitsymichelle13 @king-crockett​

[antiherocorner]

They won’t dare to bother you anymore...

(This is my first Niki Lauda x Reader fic ever, and my second fanfic in general, ever... English is still not my native language, sorry for the mistakes in advance... I wrote this in one sitting, because I got inspired by my one and only @mymagicsuitcase and her Niki Lauda headcanon... The giving you their jacket one... I read it... Loved it... And this happened... Enjoy <3 )

WARNINGS: little drinking, little swearing, possibly smoking, Hunt is a dick, Lauda is a sweatheart (maybe went a little OOC, I’m not sure... I tried not to but... yeah), Reader is female, no name or y/n is mentioned

Word: 1,7k~

You were excited, but a nervous wreck as well, at the same time. 

You met Niki at a party of one of the other F1 drivers’. A friend of yours had been a good friend of him, whom owned the place, and they dragged you along, quote “You’re gonna die alone, come on! They are interesting people, and you would be just bored in your house!”. So, yeah. That’s how you found yourself leaning to the wall, beer in hand, in a massive living room, observing people in front of you. You weren’t that good in F1, you had been watching it on the TV and following some news, but you were sort of a rookie in that field. You knew some names, especially the ones which were everywhere, either after achieving something big, or having a huge rivalry. Such as Hunt and Lauda. As you were deep in your thoughts, you didn’t see that one of the mentioned drivers was looking directly at you. Also leaning to the wall with a drink in his hands, his curly locks loosely hugging his face, some have escaped from the others, and were fallen in front of his forehead. He thought you looked beautiful in those red dress of yours with a black leather jacket. Even though you looked very awkward and uncomfortable, clearly you felt that you didn’t belong there and looked like that as well, still. There was something in you which captivated him. Like you had power, but you didn’t want to waste it on something, or someone. You didn’t want to just use it randomly. You even looked mysterious. He wanted you. Only to himself. And although it entertained him greatly, that how you slipped away ever so slightly from anyone who came near you, and a visibly pain started to form on your face, like the whole world’s problem was on your shoulder, the temptation to save you from the situation, to wanted to know who you were, was way more stronger. Just as he launched himself of the wall with the foot that was rested on it, he froze in his steps. Someone else was more agile. And forward. And loud. Also drunk.

- Hey, hey, hey! Why is that, that a beautiful woman like you just standing next to a wall at a party? - startled you the one and only, James Hunt, leaning on the wall directly next to you.

- Omm… It just… I’m not a party people I guess… - you answered slightly taken back, shyly.

- Then why are you here, my lady? - he smelled like all kinds of alcohol and cigarette.

- A friend of mine brought me here… - you started but you were cut off immediately by him.

- Really? I should thank them, they brought you to me, a stunning woman who…

- That’s enough, Hunt. You’re clearly making her uncomfortable. Leave her alone. -  A hand grabbed Hunt’s shoulder, and you snapped your head to the direction of whom it might be.

- What? You want her to yourself?! Lauda… Go away, I was here sooner!!

- You’re drunk. There are plenty of ladies who would kindly do anything you say so. Now fuck off. - He didn’t want to start a fight, but he wanted to sound demanding. He really wanted him to piss off.

- Jesus… - and just like that, without a word hi was gone.

You stared at the leaving figure for a couple of seconds before you looked at the other driver in the eyes and realized he was already looking at you, like he was searching for something.

- Are you alright?

- Yeah, I think so… Thank you, Mr. Lauda. - you said shyly.

- Oh please, call me Niki. - the corner of his mouth twitched up a little.

- Thank you… Niki. - you said again, with a slight blush - I think I should go… I don’t want to start more drama, and I have already stayed more than I am comfortable with… My friend will be fine, I just get a taxi or something… - you trailed off, halfly speaking to him, halfly just thinking out loud - I shouldn’t have come… - you added quietly, but he picked it up.

- Wait! Please… Come out with me to the balcony… Get some fresh air. You look a little bit railed up, I don’t want you to leave alone like this, to be honest. - he tried so say it as casual as possible, but he really was worried for you. A little bit. Maybe. He didn’t want to admit it to himself either.

You didn’t know what to say, so without thinking you just nod slightly and let him led you towards the balcony. As you passed by the dancing figures of the party, you felt Niki’s hand touch the lower of your back. He didn’t want to startle you more than this, he just wanted to make sure that no one could bump into you, and you could get to the damn balcony as soon as possibble. Well, that’s what he said to himself in that moment, that was the reason why he touched you, surely. He relaxed a little bit, when you weren’t complaining. And you certainly weren't planning to. On the balcony you just chatted for a while. You told him your name, why you were there, your job, little things like these. In exchange he told you about himself, his job, and how this season was going for him, his plans for the remaining time of the race.  You also told him that you followed his race, the whole season, but you didn’t know everything, or rather didn’t understand everything. You liked cars, but you were no mechanic. There were a whole two weeks until the next race, which took place in the city. He offered you to go with him to his garage the next day. He could show you some stuff which might interest you. He also offered you to drive you home if you still want to leave, so you didn’t have to take a taxi or worse. You weren’t sure why, you just met this man, but there was a spark between the two of you. You said yes to him. For both things.

And now here you were, awkwardly standing at the Ferrari’s garage. During the last 2 weeks, you got to know Niki pretty well. You met him nearly everyday, either in his garage, talking to you while patching up the car, or taking you out to drinking. You weren’t together or anything. But you did liked him. A lot. You could see how he was sometimes stubborn and quick-tempered, but with you, he was way more softer. Although he rather did not show this side of him to anyone else. It was only for you. He wanted you to come to this race, but he didn’t want to drag you into any kind of gossip, which was very common in the F1 family, so you came here alone, he was already here. He got you a full-pass, so you could come to his garage, without anyone stopping you. You couldn’t see him yet, so you just stood there, out of the way of everyone. You felt a hand on your back.

- Well, well, isn’t that the beautiful lady from the that party? You missed me? - fuckin’ Hunt.

- I’m not here for you, Hunt. - you tried to say it as cold as humanly possible.

- Are you mad about our drunk incident? Look, let’s talk about that… - he stepped a few inch closer to you, as you would have liked it, trying to intimidate you.

- Get off her before I run you over with my car. - Niki appeared out of nowhere, his eyes were shooting lightnings. If looks could kill...

- Whoa, easy there Lauda. You really came here for him? - Hunt looked at you in disbelief  - You have an interesting taste… - he trailed off as he walked away, again, no more words, grinning to himself.

Niki went to go after him to hit that grin off of Hunt’s face, but you grabbed his arm.

- Calm down, it’s okay. You have to concentrate on the race. Don’t let him get under your skin. - you tried to reason him, and it seemed to work. You had his full attention.

You only noticed it now, that in his free hand there was a jacket, a red one, just like his suit. He freed himself from your grasp, and showed you the back of the jacket. NIKI LAUDA was printed on it, with huge letters. Without letting you say anything, he grabbed it, and put it over your shoulders. He carefully fixed it, so it looked good on you.

- What’s this for? - you smiled, you liked the jacket that was given to you by him.

- Just to show everyone who you support, so they won’t dare to bother you anymore. - ha said casually, grinning proudly.

- Okay - you laughed - I am only here to only support you.

- Good. - he beamed at you.

You heard a voice calling for attention. The drivers had to get into their cars. Niki was ready to go but before he could have left you, you stepped on your tiptoes, put one of your hands on the side of his face, and gave a little peck on the other side.

- I’ll be waiting for you right here. Fuck Hunt up. - you whispered into his ear.

You moved back, but Niki quickly took a hold on you, before you went to far from him.

- I might be in love with you… Can I take you out to a dinner? - he asked with the biggest grin you had saw on him.

- As a date?

- Yes. - he said with confidence.

- Only if you win… - you smiled mischievously.

- Deal. - he returned the same smile.

He let go of you and stormed to his crew and car. He jumped into his car and put on his helmet. Before he closed of its lid, he looked at you last time. You locked eyes and he winked at you. You blushed deep, but kept smiling as he drove off to the track. 

This is gonna be a good day...

[anime-corner]

I'm Here | Oikawa T.

A/N: Hey guys! I'm back (hopefully for longer since classes are about to end). Anyways, this one's a bit shorter than usual. I hope you like it!

"Yahoo! Knock, knock~ Sorry, practice finished later than usual!" Oikawa called out but was only greeted by darkness, "(n/n)-chan?"

The house was still, not a single noise was heard. Oikawa doubted that you would leave without texting him, it was practically tradition to crash at your place every after school. He looked around, stealing a loaf of bread before heading upstairs. Dim lights could be seen from under the closed door as Oikawa turned the knob, inviting himself in as usual.

"Hey, Iwa-chan told me that-- what are you doing typing, er writing, whatever it is you're doing in the dark?!" He bellowed, flicking the light switch on. A hiss escaped your lips as you momentarily closed your eyes to adjust to the lighting.

"Shut up, Tooru. I'm kind of busy at the moment so if you don't mind, I'd like to finish all of this tonight." His eyes glanced over at the stack of papers on your left as your right hand hovered on top of another, gripping on a pencil tightly. Your left hand was typing away as fast as it could.

"What's all these? Haven't you finished the assignment yesterday?"

"Well, yes but, this one's for the student council. I need to file a report and it needs to be passed at midnight." You then gestured towards the paper, a bit crumpled with the many times you wrote the wrong formula, "And this is for Monday's class presentation."

"And these?" He pointed towards the stack of papers.

"That's…" You blinked a couple of times before responding, "I think it's the ones from the council three days ago that I haven't checked yet. Anyways, I'll handle that after I'm done with this."

"How many hours of sleep did you even get?" He asked.

"What? I don't think my sleep schedule has anything to do with this, Tooru." You answered, not taking your eyes off of your work.

"Just tell me." Oikawa insisted, sitting on your bed as he stared at you.

"Fine. Around two or so? I'll give it a three since I've been running on coffee since I woke up." His brows furrowed, worry etched on his face if only you took the time to look at him.

"That's not good, (n/n)-chan. Come on, I'll finish that." You shook your head, still not lifting your gaze away.

"No way, you had practice just minutes ago! I'm perfectly capable of finishing these within the day if you just so let me. Now shush-- hey!"

"I mean it, (y/n)." You huffed as you glared at him, "You need your sleep. I'll wake you up before dinner."

"What? No! I can't, Tooru!" You protested, standing up from your seat as you felt a slight pain from your head. You shook it off as nothing, "Tachibana-sensei's breathing down my neck saying she'd be the reason why I wouldn't be graduating this year."

"You still have a day to go before classes start again on Monday. You don't need to rush everything today--"

"Haven't you been listening? The report is due tonight. These," You gestured towards the stack of papers, "Might as well be due at the same time. And after this one, I've also got to revise my notes. I'm falling behind, Tooru and I don't want to hear anything from my mother once I move back."

"You won't (y/n), trust me. You're the smartest girl I know in school and probably the busiest one. I'm sure she'd be proud of you--"

"You see, that's not enough. I need to get my grades up, a bit higher than now." You countered. You retorted, huffing in annoyance at how the setter wouldn’t leave you all alone.

"You don't need to. What you need is to calm down a bit. You know that--"

"Will you stop it, Tooru!? You just don't get it, do you?! My parents thought that I would get into Shiratorizawa and what did I do? Fail the exam!" You bellowed, standing up from your seat as the male stepped back a bit. You stood up, voice raised as Oikawa stepped back, "My mom wanted me to at least be at the top during my first and second year, to at least in her words, redeem myself. But I failed on that too. Now, you're telling me to calm down? To take a break? Well, I can't. I've got my family's voices screaming at me saying I should do better! Do you know how--"

"You're crying, (y/n)..." Oikawa whispered as he placed a hand on your cheek, his thumb wiping away the tears. You lightly pushed him back, rubbing your way with your sleeves. He pointed out. A hand lay on your cheek as his thumb wiped away a tear, you pushed him away after, wiping it away with your hands.

"S-shut up. I'm not crying. Just… leave me alone for today, Tooru. I'm really busy and I can't afford to let all of my hard work turn to dust."

"I'll help you."

"For the last time, I--" He cut you off.

"Just let me help!" He was already frustrated seeing the girl he adored so much struggling with her life.

He knew of her problem with her parents and most importantly, he knew the conflict she had with herself. He knew that feeling more than ever. And he didn't want her to feel the same way he did during that time.

And he was afraid that, while it might not cost her a knee, she might lose so much more if she continues. Perhaps, her eyesight or her health. Worst case, her life. And he wasn't going to let her get to that point.

"If Iwa-chan was here, he'd know what to do… but he isn't. And I don't want to disturb him too. I'm just trying my best to help you, because I understand, I understand you the most out of everyone," He walked closer, enveloping you in a hug as the two of you sat on the floor, "You just want to prove something but, you're all fed up about everything. You're trying your best but I guess, to others, that's not good enough."

Tears slowly dripped down from your face once again as you buried your head on his chest, gripping on his jacket, "Why can't you leave me alone, Tooru? I don't care if you get me… I just want to be left alone."

"I'm staying, (y/n) and that's final. I'm not going to let you carry that burden all by yourself anymore. I'm here, remember? I'll help you," Oikawa whispered in your ear as he caressed your back, "You're, besides Iwaizumi, the one I treasure the most. I care about you and I don't want you to suffer like this when I know that I could have tried and saved you from it."

"Why?" That one question made him silent for a while as you looked up at him.

"I… it's because…" He sighed, making you somewhat dread and anticipate the answer at the same time, "I love you, you know that? And while this might possibly be-- ah, who am I kidding? It's the worst time possible to tell you this, I don't think that I'll be able to get another chance like this."

"T-Tooru… I…" You started but went silent as he brought his hand up.

"Please hear me out?" He inhaled before opening his mouth again to speak, "I… I want to support you (y/n), the same way you and Iwaizumi did all these years, especially during the time when I overworked my knee. The two of you were always there. So, let me be there for you too."

"It's just not easy when you've been doing everything yourself for most of your life…" You gulped, avoiding his gaze as you clenched your fists tightly.

"I know. But, I really do love you. And I promise that you'll never regret choosing me unlike how I regret eyeing up girls when I knew that you were right in front of me the whole time and they'll never be you. They'll never be as hardworking, caring and overly kind as you. You're perfect and so much more. Because everything means nothing to me if I can have you to call as mine." Oikawa said, moving a strand of your hair away from your face.

"Even the nationals?" You asked, teasing him a bit.

"I… okay, maybe not the nationals. I still want to beat Ushiwaka and all. But that's besides the point," He shook his head, placing his chin on top of your head, "You're amazing and beautiful, even when you think you're not. And I'm really sorry for confessing at the worst time possible. But, believe me when I say that I love you."

"Why are you… confessing now?" Somehow, this question made him think. It's not like he hadn't practiced his answer in the mirror for a million times, making sure it was perfect to his ears. Not at all. But, given the situation, he'd have to abandon that script and start a new one.

"Well, it just pains me to see you doing the same things I did before, even though your academics and my career as a player are two different things, and I thought that if I manage to successfully tell you how I feel, I could somehow help you carry all of this. Because by that time, I would hopefully be your boyfriend." Oikawa spoke genuinely, moving one of his hands from her back to her head, stroking her hair.

"You don't need to be my boyfriend to help me, you know."

"I know that but you just make it so difficult, argh! Everytime I see you frustrated, I just wanna hug you and kiss you and then take over your work while you rest. But I can't do that as a friend! So… so..." Not that he thought about it, what he said sounded stupid, "Yeah, I know. It's a dumb excuse."

"You're an idiot." The third year laughed out loud.

"I know, Iwa tells me that all the time." You lightly hit his shoulder, hiding the smile that was threatening to show, "At least I made you smile right?"

"I guess you did, Tooru. I guess you did." He hummed in satisfaction before something else you couldn't quite figure out what was etched on his face.

"I'm not going to force you to answer my feelings right away, (y/n)-chan. I can wait." He stammered.

"Why wait when I feel the same way? I love you too, Tooru." He perked up suddenly, making you hide the massive blush on your face.

"Wait, really? You're not joking right? (y/n)?" The setter found you fast asleep, whether or not you were faking it, he wouldn't know. He only chuckled, kissing your head, "Alright… I'll let you get some rest. You deserve it."

He carried you over to your bed, tucking you in. His hand lingered on your cheek, a smile on his face as he whispered.

"Dream of me will you, (y/n)-chan?" Oikawa stood up straight, eyes darting towards your mess of a desk, "Now… which one did she say she needed by midnight?"

Let me hold your hand and carry the same burden you hold. I'll always be here, even if you push me away.

[psychedellic-phase]

Blind Date

((gif by moi))

A/N: This is the first smut I’ve ever tried to write sooo let me know how it is!

word count: 3.6 k

tw: smut, swallowing, plain ol’ sex with a plot

masterlist

Spencer spun around lazily in his desk chair, flipping through a case file when Derek walked up to him.

“Pretty boy! Just who I was looking for!”

Spencer looked up from the folder at Derek and groaned internally, “What’s up?”

Derek half sat on the edge of the desk, barely containing his excitement as his leg bounced.

“How would you like to go out tonight on a date?”

Spencer scrunched up his eyebrows, a vague look of confusion painting his face. He was waiting for the punch like of this joke, or prank or whatever it was Morgan was trying to pull.

“A date?”

“Yep, a date.”

“With who?” Spencer dropped the file on his desk, crossing his hands across his chest and looking up at Derek. A date? He hadn’t even talked to a girl since Maeve. How was he supposed to go on a date?

“This nurse Savannah works with, (Y/N), I think you guys would be a great pair.”

So this wasn’t just another prank. Spencer sighed, rubbing his eyes with his hands.

“I don’t know, I haven’t, since—“

Derek cut him off, “I know, but it’s been three years Reid. She’d want you to move on.”

Spencer thought about it for a moment. It had crossed his mind recently that he needed to get back out there if he wanted any chance at a family in the future. He came to terms with Maeve’s loss a while ago, but it still felt like he would be cheating on her if he even looked at another woman.

“Look, kid, I think this one could really be worth it. She’s funny, kind, super smart and outgoing, I think you’d make a good match. I wouldn’t even bring it up to you if I didn’t.” Derek looked sincere, his eyebrows furrowed with worry.

Spencer thought for a moment and nodded, a sudden feeling of confidence coming over him, “Yeah, yeah okay I’ll go.”

What’s the worst that could happen? She could hate him and end up being a crazy killer? The odds were slim.

“Really?” Derek’s eyes were wide.

“Yeah, if she agrees to it why not?”

Derek slapped the desk and then squeezed Spencer’s shoulders, “Savannah and I will pick you up at 7, loverboy.”

“You and Savann–“ Spencer cut himself off, “Wait it’s a double date?”

Derek shrugged, “Yeah, that way if it goes South we can swoop in. But don’t worry. This date is not going downhill, not on my watch.”

Spencer just laughed lightly and tucked his overgrown hair behind his ear. A slight pang of guilt and dread formed in his stomach but he did his best to ignore it. Maybe this would be good for him? He hoped it was.

————

“No,” you said to Savannah over the nurse’s station.

She was trying to set you up, yet again, on another blind date. She was your best friend and you loved her, but she couldn’t let it go. She was constantly trying to matchmake for you, especially since she met Derek. You always told her she got the last decent guy, to which she’d roll her eyes and say, ‘Your guy is out there!’ You didn’t think that was true anymore.

“Y/N! C’mon, it’ll be fun!”

You rolled your eyes, skimming another patient file, “That’s what you said about Dylan. And Brian. And Craig. And they were not fun Sav!”

You started walking down the hallway and she followed you, shoes squeaking, “This one is different though.”

You stopped and made eye contact with her. She looked hopeful, genuine, sincere. Part of you wanted to say yes, but after several disaster dates with the disaster men that she sent your way you were very doubtful.

“You also said Scott was ‘different’ and he ended up still living in his mother’s basement.”

Savannah laughed and shook her head, “Okay, I was wrong about Scott. But I mean it. Spencer’s special!”

“He’s special?” You sounded bored.

“Yes! He works with Derek. The nerdy kid, remember?”

You vaguely remembered her meeting some of his coworkers and nodded, “Yeah he’s like a genius or whatever?”

“Yes him!”

You pretended to think, tapping your chin over zealously and then finally said, “Nope,” popping the ‘p’. You started down the hall way again, her still following you. She always was persistent, and even a little stubborn.

“Y/N, listen to me. Spencer is like 6’1, smart, lanky, kinda awkward but sweet, nerdy, brown shaggy hair; he’s literally your exact type.”

You sighed, she was right. That is your exact type. If you could build-a-man like build-a-bear, Spencer Reid is who you’d make. Savannah did always prefer the more masculine men like Derek, whereas you had a tendency to go for guys who looked like they ran on coffee and adderall and had sensitive eyes.

“Derek and I will be there too, double date style, just in case you guys need a little nudge.”

“But Sav—“

“Nope, no buts. You’re coming. This is a good one, Y/N. I can feel it.”

“But what about work? What if we get called or they do or?”

You were rambling looking for an excuse not to go. You had no good reason to say no, you were just tired of one too many bad dates.

“Work is NOT getting in the way this time! I’ll see you at 7,” she cooed, waving as she slipped into a patient room.

Maybe she was right, maybe he would be special?

————

So that’s how you ended up sitting across from Spencer Reid in the booth of a diner at 7 pm on a Thursday night.

“I swear I reserved the restaurant for tonight!” Derek said, Savannah on his arm as you all walked a few blocks to the diner. They were Barbie and Ken, just hotter. You and Spencer walked side by side, about a foot between you.

When you had arrived at the fancy restaurant at 6:45 the hostess informed you all that Derek had reserved a table for a Thursday three months from now. The backup plan was the 24-hour diner you and Savannah hit many times post shift.

Spencer sat across from you, folding open the massive menu to find something he’d like. He was exactly how you remembered him: wickedly smart and devilishly handsome.

A dangerous combination.

“So Y/N, Spencer’s from Las Vegas,” Savannah started, not to subtly nudging you under the table with her leg.

“Really? That’s nice, I love Vegas,” You said and Spencer nodded slightly in response, “You’ve been?”

You nodded, “Yeah, for a few girls trips.”

He just nodded and let the conversation die. You felt a little defeated. Was this guy that bad at dates? Or did he just not like you?

True to her word, Savannah stepped in again.

“Today Y/N had a patient throw ice chips at her.”

“What’d you do to make them do that?” Derek said, peeking over the massive menu at you.

You laughed, “That’s not even the worst thing that’s happened.”

“What rotation are you on right now?” Spencer asked you and ordered a Shirley temple. What kind of guy orders a Shirley temple? This guy. This impossibly cute guy, who probably didn’t want you.

“Labor and delivery, so I’ve had many things thrown at me, been called many names,” You laughed and he smiled back.

“I can only imagine.”

“Pretty boy here has actually delivered a baby before,” Derek chimed in.

You stifled a laugh, “Really? Is that so?”

Spencer’s cheeks turned a light pink, “Yeah, actually, and it was not what I expected.”

“Well what did you expect?”

He smirked, “I read all the manuals, I didn’t expect rose petals and magic but that much fluid? Where does it all even come from?”

You and Savannah chuckled, “Squeamish Dr. Reid?”

“Surprisingly, birth is harder to see than some of the dead bodies we get.”

“Hey hey, no dead body and grossness talk at dinner. I’m trying to eat here,” Derek said as the food arrived.

Spencer put his hands up in defeat, “No more dead body talk, I promise.”

You did the same, “No more birth talk, promise!”

You all started to eat, and of course you and Spencer reached for the ketchup at the same time, bumping fingers, like in those teen movies.

“I’m sorry, ladies first,” he said. You grabbed the bottle and squeezed ketchup all over your french fries.

Savannah cringed, “She doesn’t put ketchup on the side of her fries to dip like a normal person, she squeezes it all over top like a psychopath.”

You feigned insult and lightly hit her arm, “Hey! Don’t call me a psychopath in front of all the FBI agents!”

“For what it’s worth, Y/N, you definitely aren’t a psychopath,” Spencer said, offering you a shy smile, “I know psychopaths.”

“Thank you Dr. Reid,” you blushed and he took the ketchup from you, squirting it all over his fries just like you did.

“See! I’m not crazy! He did it too!”

“Probably because you’re both psychopaths,” Savannah giggled and the four of you laughed.

You reached over and took a fry from Spencer’s plate and then you both were finally comfortable. You looked at Savannah once and gave her a thumbs up; she was right, this was a good one.

The rest of the night was perfect. You and Spencer joked and laughed and learned about each other, by the end of the night you almost forgot Derek and Savannah were even there. The two of you were in your own little world, and it was amazing. You would’ve stayed out forever if they would’ve let you.

“We can all hitch a cab?” Derek said as you all stood on the corner. It was cold out and Spencer had so kindly given you his suit jacket. It smelled like fancy cologne, how much more attractive could he be?

You looked at Spencer, and he looked at you, and in that moment you made a decision. You were not going home without this man tonight.

“Actually, I live a few blocks that way,” You said, pointing in the opposite direction, the oversized jacket flopping as you did so, “I’m good to walk home.”

“Would you like some company?” Spencer said, his mouth turned up in a crooked smile. He rocked back and forth on his heels.

“I’d love some.”

Derek and Savannah gave each other a knowing look and bid you farewell. Spencer offered his arm and you grabbed it, leading him to your apartment.

As you walked he pointed out sights and told you the history of the landmarks you were passing.

“The Washington Monument was completed in two phases, a private one from 1848 to 1854 and then a public one from 1876 to 1884.”

“Have you ever been up in it?” You asked, stopping to stare up at the huge monument.

“No, have you?”

You nodded, “Yeah, I have.”

“Maybe you can take me up next time,” he stammered out, blushing and squeezing your arm tight.

You smiled, blush creeping up your face as well at the thought of a “next time.”

“Yeah, I’d love to, and then I’ll show you the best bakery in DC. I’m a sucker for an eclair.”

You released your arm from the crook of his elbow and grabbed his hand. He grabbed yours back, looking down at you in his jacket in the moonlight. His eyes were shiny and the brown was dark, almost black. His tongue darted in and out of his mouth and he bit on his lip ever so slightly.

You wanted to kiss him. Scratch that. You needed to kiss him. You stopped again and he turned to face you. Just as you went up on your tippy toes to kiss him, he knelt down to your level and connected your lips.

It was a short, sweet, innocent kiss that made butterflies erupt in your stomach, and other places. When you separated you were both grinning ear to ear.

The rest of the walk was hand in hand, him rubbing his thumb over your knuckles and you both talking. When you arrived at the front door, you both paused.

“Well, this is me,” You said and started to unlock the door. He stayed a few steps down, just smiling at you.

“Do you want my—should I give you my phone number?” He said, his voice laced with doubt.

You smiled and turned, “Actually...”

His face fell, a sad expression covering the smile he had moments ago.

“Oh, it’s okay I understand, I-I thought we were having a good time is all,” he mumbled out, rubbing his arms because he was freezing and you still had on his jacket.

“I was going to say would you like to come in?” You said, feeling just as awkward as he did.

His eyes widened, “Uh- do I want to come in?” Even he knew what that was insinuating.

You suddenly felt embarrassed, like you had misread the entire situation, “I mean, only if you want to?”

He regained his confidence a little, “Yeah. Yeah, I want to.” And he followed you inside.

You slid off his suit jacket and laid it nicely over a chair, “Can I get you a drink?”

He nodded, “Water’s fine.”

As you went to the kitchen to find him a glass of water, he made himself at home on the couch. You could’ve sworn you heard him mumbling to himself, but shrugged it off. You sat next to him and placed the two glasses of water on the coffee table.

You turned to him, “So—“

To your surprise, he immediately kissed you again, this time with less innocence and much longer. You kissed back, nipping slightly at his lower lip. The kiss got more and more intense, your tongue moving between his slightly chapped lips. His hands found a home on your hip bones, using his thumbs to rub small circles there. When you separated you both had to take a few slow breaths.

“Sorry, I don’t usually do this on a first date,” you mumbled, scooting closer to him so your thighs were touching.

He grabbed a stray piece of your hair and tucked it behind your ear, “I don’t usually do this at all.”

His hand went to cup your face and he was kissing you again. This time, you leaned back so he could hover over you, his tie laying over your chest.

His hands were on either side of you, and your fingers were running through his messy brown hair. You tugged slightly at the root, making him moan and open his mouth even more to you.

Slowly you reached down to fumble with his tie, his hand reached up to stop you.

“Patience,” he mumbled into your lips before kissing down your cheek and across your jaw. Each kiss sent jolts through your body, making the peach fuzz on your neck stand up. You put your hands back where they were in his hair, and one of his hands stayed next to you, supporting him, and the other landed on your hip. His lips found a spot just under your ear, and he sucked on it slightly making you moan and shut your eyes.

“The ears are a neglected erogenous zone,” he said against your skin before nipping and biting at the lobe.

“I-I like it,” you breathed out as you reached back for his tie and undid it, tossing it somewhere across from the couch.

“Should we take this somewhere else?”

You nodded, and in one motion he picked you up bridal style. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders and giggled as you led him to your bedroom. He laid you on your bed gently.

You scooted up to the pillows and propped yourself up on your elbows, “Lose the shirt, Dr. Reid.”

He raised and eyebrow at you but did what you asked and soon his dress shirt and undershirt were on the floor. He was slim but covered in muscle. You bit your lip at the thought how scratch marks would look down his back.

“It’s rude to stare,” he joked, and another redhot flush graced your cheeks.

You absentmindedly rubbed your legs together in anticipation as he began to undo his belt. You felt like it was only fair that you undressed too, so you took off your dress and laid out in your bra and underwear.

When he returned to hovering over you he smiled, sloppy kisses running from your lips and down your neck. You silently cursed yourself for not wearing nicer undergarments, but Spencer didn’t seem to mind as he palmed your breasts over your beige bra. You moaned into the skin of his shoulder and started to kiss and suck there. Your hands scratched down is back, leaving red lines in their wake. He grabbed your bra straps and pulled them off your shoulders, pulling the bra down to expose you to him.

With a sharp intake of breath, his mouth was around one of your nipples, sucking on it and twisting it between his lips. His free hand came up to pinch the other bud, making you moan loudly again. You arched your back to meet him, and his hand left your chest to force you back down.

You whimpered as you felt him hard and hot against your thigh. Then he switched sides, wanting to give you equal attention. He stayed there until you begged him to stop.

“S-Spencer,” you said between breathy moans, “Just fuck me already.”

He pulled back and blew on your chest lightly, sending shivers down your spine and wetness to your center.

He stopped and looked at you, his eyes warm and full of concern, “Are you sure?”

You writhed underneath him, “Yes, I’m sure. I’m clean. I’m protected. Please. I need you.”

He completely removed your bra and underwear now, leaving you naked beneath him. You pulled his boxers down slightly, so he could spring out. You pumped him a few times and ran the tip across your entrance, making both of you groan. He kissed you kindly, like he had in front of the washington monument, and then slid inside of you.

You groaned at the feeling, clutching the sheets beside you as he let you adjust.

“Okay?” He whispered and you nodded.

“Do something Spencer, please.”

And with that he began thrusting in and out of you slowly, stopping when he bottomed out. You wrapped your thighs around his waist and pulled him in closer to you while your hands tugged at his hair. The sounds falling from both of you were obscene and delicious. It was hard to tell where he started and you ended.

“Fuck,” he groaned, falling from his hands to his elbows over you. Your chests touched and he stuck his thumb in your mouth. You instinctively sucked in it and he took it between your thighs to start stroking figure-eights on your clit. You groaned and arched into him.

“Don’t stop,” You mumbled, kissing whatever skin your mouth could reach.

“I’m close,” he whispered, sweat dripping off his forehead and onto you but you didn’t care. All that mattered was the way he was winding you up with his fingers, getting you closer and closer to the edge. You stared up at him, his hair stuck to his forehead and his eyebrows furrowed. You made eye contact and he caught your lips in a lusty kiss.

“Wait for me,” you ordered, scratching more lines down his back as your orgasm took over. Your vision went black, your whole body tensing as you pulsed around him.

He rode your high with you while chasing his own.

“Where can I?”

“My mouth,” you said, as he pulled out and put his tip between your lips. You used your hands and mouth to finish him before he came.

The two of you flopped on the bed panting, then started laughing. You turned to lay your head on his chest, “I’m glad I went out tonight.”

He pulled you close to him, so your head was just above his pounding heart, “So am I.” And he kissed your forehead.

You snuck out of his arms to get cleaned up and returned to your spot on his chest. There he stroked your back lightly until you both fell asleep.

————

The next morning you were turned away from Spencer, your butts touching slightly making you chuckle. You looked over at him and he was still soundly sleeping, looking even more adorable than he had the night before, if that was even possible.

You looked for your phone and saw two missed calls from Savannah. You called her back.

“Hey,” you whispered so you wouldn’t wake Spencer.

“Sooo what’d you think? What’d you guys do? Did you....”

You rolled your eyes, “It was a great night Savannah.”

She squealed on the other side, “YES! I knew it. You owe me $15!” She called to Derek, who was no doubt listening on the other end. You had to stifle a laugh.

“So there’s a second date in your future? I don’t have to keep setting you up?”

You looked over at Spencer, his hair falling in angelic waves around his face. You admired the lips you had grown to know last night and couldn’t wait to feel them again.

“No more setting me up,” You whispered, “And you were right Sav, this one is special.”

You couldn’t tell but Spencer was awake, his mouth turning up into a smile as he overheard your conversation. When you hung up he stretched as if he has just woken up.

“Hey,” he said, voice raspy and groggy.

“Hey,” you placed a peck on his lips.

“How about breakfast is date number two?”

[consumedkings-archive]

THE LAND OF GODS AND DEVILS, a sequel.

—part i.

word count: 6k

rating: m for now, rating will change in later chapters as things develop, tags will be updated accordingly.

warnings: naughty language, massively canon-divergent, roman gets his own tag because he's a fucking nutso, canon-typical violence, established relationship that might not be the healthiest, age gap, domestic murder family. for this chapter in specific, roman likes to take things to the Extreme (i.e., "i'm going to fucking kms if you say this word one more time") but if you're here i imagine you know exactly what he's about.

notes: it's here! i know that most of my followers and friends on here are my friends through my far cry 5 content, but my return to the fic-writing world was inspired by my first longfic in a decade after watching birds of prey. you could say, perhaps, that i have a Type(TM), given that roman sionis lives rent free in my head forever and always. this is the sequel to my work carry your throne, though i like to think it's fairy user-friendly, especially once we really get into the thick of it.

special thank you goes to my beta and the loml, @starcrier; the first person to ever truly recognize varya for the wretched little beast that she is and love her anyway. thank you for being my beta and for loving my girl!

and, of course, another special thanks goes to @shallow-gravy, @vasiktomis, @faithchel, @tomexraider, and @belorage for being so supportive of my foray out of the far cry fandom and back into one that, in a way, brought me here in the first place!

summary: —by dread things, compelled.

roman sionis is the closest he has ever been to having everything that he wants; a perfect wife, a perfect family, a perfect international black-market arms dealing business signed over to him in its entirety. unfortunately for him, there are people in the world who would prefer to see him without, and that has never been a thing that roman has accepted for himself: being without.

(or: a fic wherein the devil spends his time rebuking sin.)

“If one more person says the word ‘chandelier’ in my presence,” Roman announced, drawing all eyes to him, “I'm going to blow my fucking brains out. Got it?”

There was a brief moment of silence that lapsed before the murmured acquiescence of the workers marked their return to their work. Blowing hot air from his mouth, Roman raked his fingers through his hair and turned back around to where Zsasz was watching him expectantly.

“What?” He demanded. “It’s my wife’s birthday.” Emphasis on the my, not the wife; it was not a favor Roman was doing for Varya, it was something he was doing for himself.

“V told them she wanted it.” Zsasz gestured to the offensive piece of lighting, which continued to haunt Roman’s waking and dreaming hours with its garish crystalline drippings and expensive bulbs. Ever since Varya had found out his fluctuating approval of the chandelier, it had been in and out of the Black Mask Club more times than he could count. Not that he needed to; he could very well put in or rip out a stupid fucking light fixture as many times as he wanted.

“Well.” Roman pulled a glass out from behind the bar, setting it on the top and dropping an ice cube into it. “She does so love to torture me.”

“It's just a—”

“Do you want my fucking guts on the floor, Zsasz? I mean it. Say the word and I’ll do it.”

The blonde regarded him drily. “No, boss.”

“Blood and guts everywhere.” Roman gestured widely with his free hand. “All over the floor. The bar top. You’ll have to clean it up. Maybe wipe down some of the bottles.”

“I won’t say it.”

“I don’t have to tell you how hard it is to get blood out of the carpet.”

Zsasz’s mouth quirked up in a smile. It said, without saying anything at all, no, you don’t. More agreeably, and with the flash of pearly whites and the capped tooth: “Sure.”

Roman poured well over what would have been considered the polite amount of expensive scotch into his glass, capping the bottle and setting it aside. It had been exactly twenty-four hours of making sure the club was perfectly polished and styled for Varya's birthday; though she was shrewd, she was so preoccupied with the twins and the lawyers and overseas business associates that she barely seemed to notice whatever was coming in and out of the Black Mask Club. He didn’t think she’d had a baby nor a phone out of her hands in over two days, and truthfully, it was starting to become tedious. Now that the twins were a little over a year old, they were supposed to be scheduling their honeymoon.

The delay of it hadn’t been a big deal, at the start. But everyday with you feels like my honeymoon, Varya had demurred months before the twins’ arrival, fluttering her lashes and gliding her fingers along the lapel of his jacket—and not even an hour after she’d curtly informed him that any more chatter, while she was nursing a headache, would be met with a swift and efficient extraction of his vocal cords by her own hands. Motherhood was supposed to have domesticated her, Roman thought, and had done the exact opposite; now, she was more assured of her status and power than ever.

So, yes; Varya had been busy, and he was almost certain she’d forgotten her own birthday. Never mind that everything had to be perfect. Never mind that it had to be immaculate. Never mind that Varya had deigned to order a brand new fucking chandelier from the same place they’d gotten one last time, knowing full well that he had made the executive decision to gut the fucking thing and get it out of his club.

“Tell you what, Zsasz,” Roman muttered, taking a swallow of the amber liquid in his glass, “don’t ever get fucking married. You want someone knowing all the shit that pushes your buttons all the time?”

“Maybe you just got a button pusher for a wife.”

Roman grimaced and took another swallow. It was true. “Fuck off.”

The blonde opened his mouth to say something else—and hadn’t he gotten confident in himself too, since Varya had become such a permanent fixture in their life, constantly goading and coercing him to voice his opinion on things, things that normally he would just defer to Roman on—when the doors to the stairwell and the elevator opened.

Eclipsing the doorway was Armazd, Varya’s hand-picked-from-the-batch-of-Russians-left-over-guard. Armazd had to be easily cresting six-foot-five, his dark beard neatly trimmed and peppered with silver, a scar breaking the color of his top lip. Roman had only ever seen the man swathed in dark clothes, like a fucking mourner on parade. His wife had been the one picked to be the twins' nanny, despite the fact that Roman felt like she barely did anything.

Also hand-picked. Thoroughly vetted. Interrogated for hours. No stone left unturned, when it came to Yuli and Ro.

“What are you doing down here?” Roman barked, coming around the side of the bar to make his way across the room. “You’re supposed to be going up and keeping—”

“She is coming down,” Armazd clarified. “In the elevator. Irina called to tell me.”

“Instead of stopping her?”

“She was—”

The elevator dinged in the hallway, and Roman quickly ducked around Armazd and closed the door into the club behind him. As soon as the doors slid open, he planted a smile on his face and closed the distance between himself and his wife.

Nobody would know, looking at Varya, that she not only barely utilized the nanny that they had furiously vetted and now paid handsomely, but that on top of juggling their twins she was actively in the process of getting a massive, international gun-running business signed over in his name. There was not a single hair out of place, not a single crease or rumple in the sapphire-blue silk of her blouse or skirt; the scent of her preferred jasmine perfume followed her like a cloud. She looked as put-together as the day he’d first seen her standing in his club.

And now, he desperately needed her to stay out of it.

“Kitten,” he greeted warmly, his hands—though gloved—immediately scratching the itch by reaching for her; they captured hers to carefully still her procession to the club’s main room. “What are you doing down here? I thought you’d be busy for hours.”

“Yuliana has been fussing nonstop,” Varya replied, her voice light despite what could only have been an expression of frustration quickly following, “all while I listen to grown men fussing nonstop at me on the phone.”

Roman feigned a sympathetic noise, bringing her hands up to his mouth to kiss them. “We have a nanny, V.”

“You know better than anyone else,” the brunette murmured, brushing her nose against his as their hands dropped, “that she is inconsolable without you.”

He tried not to look too pleased. “I’m sure that’s not true.”

“Don’t be modest, Romy.”

“Well, I’ll come up, of course.” He kissed the corner of her mouth. “And console our princess.” Another kiss, to the other corner. “So that you can continue letting grown men fuss at you.”

She beamed at him prettily, and finally they met in the middle for a real kiss—nothing coy, nothing demure, but lingering warm and just between the two of them.

“I love you,” she purred. “Go on, then.”

And then Varya pulled away, as though to go around him and into the club, and Roman blinked rapidly. He had only just caught her around the waist before she could walk in and pulled her in a full one-eighty until she was facing the elevator again.

“What are you doing?” she asked, a laugh bubbling out of her. “I was just going to make myself a drink.”

“Encouraging productivity,” Roman replied, hitting the button for the elevator doors to open again. “Ready for all this paperwork to be done, aren’t you? It’s been over a year.”

A year of wading through mafia-esque bureaucracy. A year of listening to Varya say, these things take time. A busy year, to be sure, jam-packed full of things—the biggest wedding in Gotham since its founding, the twins.

A funeral.

Roman tried more and more every day not to think about his (now) brother-in-law’s funeral, the double burial of the only man that might have stood a chance at being loved by Varya more than Roman himself and the only man who had ever been anything like a father figure to her. Family is tedious, he’d wanted to say, brothers and fathers and mothers, the whole lot of them, cut them loose why don’t you? Why should anyone matter to you outside of the twins and I?

Varya glanced at him over her shoulder. “These things take time.”

He rolled his eyes. “Mhm.”

“Not to mention, we were a little busy,” she added, eyes narrowing playfully as he nudged her into the elevator, “you know—having children.”

“And what beautiful children they are.” Roman hit the button without looking, the doors sliding shut behind him.

“Well, how am I supposed to suffer through those phone calls without a stiff drink?”

He quirked a brow upward. “I’ll make you a stiff drink, Mrs. Sionis.”

The brunette propped herself up against the back rail of the elevator as it whirred into motion. The corner of her mouth, painted ruby, curved and her head tilted inquisitively. “Oh?”

“Of course,” he demurred, sidling forward and boxing her in against the wall. “I’ll make you a stiff drink—”

He dropped his head to the slope of her jaw to plant a kiss there.

“—you’ll finish up with the lawyers, and put on the dress I bought you—”

Varya hummed and sighed sweetly.

“—we’ll go out to dinner for your birthday—”

He dropped his hands to her hips, planting a kiss on her temple so that he could rumble, “And we can get to work on baby number three, hm?”

A sweet laugh billowed out of her just as the elevator came to a stop and the doors slid open to bring to Roman the oh-so-sweet sounds of a caterwauling infant. Over the distressed crying was Irina’s voice, shushing and cooing dulcet words in Russian; he could see her swaying to and fro with a swathe of fabric bundled in her arms.

“I almost forgot about my birthday,” Varya said thoughtfully, completely unrattled by the sound of their daughter’s distress. She stepped out from between him and the elevator wall; Roman fell into step beside her easily, the sound of her heels clipping against the floor enough to draw Irina’s eyes to them.

Roman said, “I know you did,” and did not bother to hide his smugness as he held out his arms for the shrieking baby in Irina’s arms. The redhead regarded him with a sort of weary amusement before she acquiesced; with Yuliana safely in his arms, he watched Varya cross the room to turn the automatic rocker that held their son back on to a slow, lulling pace. The freckled infant babbled happily—ever the quieter of the twins—and as Varya said something to Irina in Russian that inspired the woman to depart to the kitchen, she absently picked up a baby blanket from the couch and wandered over to him.

“Yuli,” she murmured, waving her finger at the already-content infant, tucking the blanket around her “is that all you wanted, hm? Just for your papa to hold you?”

“What else could she want for?” he replied confidently. Soothing Yuliana’s fury had become old-hat for him at this point. And, certainly, it pleased him to know that sometimes, the only thing that would make his daughter stop screaming was being held by him. Not even Varya—who had taken to motherhood like a fish to water—bothered when she was in a fit.

Still, the brunette sighed dreamily, her finger captured by their daughter’s tiny hand before she said, “What a perfect little gem.”

Roman hummed his agreement. “Finishing that call with the lawyers?”

“Perhaps tomorrow,” Varya replied. “They’re in a mood today.”

“They’re in a mood every day.” Russians, he thought venomously.

“Yes.” She smiled, flashing pearly teeth at him. “But only today is my birthday.”

She had him there. Still, he was itching for the whole thing to be done—Ilarion had dragged his feet through the process of even drawing up the original contract, which had only been a spit in his face (“You are the only person who gets to fuck Varya Astakhova, that is as exclusive as it gets”) and by the time all of that nasty business had been wrapped up, Ilarion was dead.

Ilarion, and Nikita—leaving only a single living soul to be in charge of the Astakhov empire: Varya herself.

Which, she had expressed time and time again, she had no desire for; not in the public way that her father had done it, and Ilarion after them. She much preferred the clerical work of it all. Paperwork and public relations. Let the men do men’s work, she’d demurred one night, tangled up in their sheets, when he’d asked her what she was going to do with it. I don’t mind. They like me better as their madonna, anyway.

“You know,” she continued, breaking him out of his thoughts as she made her way to the bar cart, pouring herself a drink, “they will like you more if it’s you they’re talking to.”

“I don’t give a fuck if they like me or not,” Roman replied, lifting Yuliana with both of his hands so that he could look at her. “Isn’t that right, princess? Mommy gets to do all the paperwork so that your papa can spend all of his time with you, instead of listening to some dumbfucks bitch and moan on the phone.” He glanced at her. “Well, anyway, since it’s your birthday we can let it slide.”

“Very generous of you.”

“Get dressed, won’t you?” he prompted, depositing his now-content daughter in the mobile swing with her brother. “The table’s been ready for us since noon.”

Varya watched him, dark eyes glittering amusedly. “And why, my darling, did you make the reservation for noon? It’s nearly six now.”

“Because,” he replied, “I wanted to make sure they held it, regardless of how long it took us to get there.”

“Ah.” She lifted her chin a little, lashes fluttering with contentment when he reached up and brushed the hair from her face. “Or else?”

Roman flashed her a grin.

“Or else.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

They held the table.

“Good for them,” Roman said as they followed the server out onto the balcony. The table had clearly been refreshed—a new candle, a new vase, a new bucket of ice and bottle of champagne. He’d heard the waitstaff whispering furiously among themselves as they idled in the lobby to be taken to their table; now, settled across from the birthday girl, Roman was content with the way they had squirmed.

“Quicker than the two-hour wait last time,” Varya noted by way of agreement, smoothing her hand along the edge of the tablecloth.

He scoffed. The only reason they had waited in the lobby for two hours was because Varya had asked him to stay for the table she wanted. If it had been his way, they would have left with a bloody warning and gone somewhere else. “I can’t believe I finally convinced you to leave the twins home for a night and we got stuck sitting in that fucking lobby because they gave our table away.”

“In my defense, they are good babies, Romy. Hardly ever cry. Certainly not too much trouble.”

“But there’s two of them,” he replied, “and toting two babies around is a lot of work. All I’m saying is, what’s the point of paying her that much fucking money if we’re just going to—”

The waiter came by the table, clearly a little stressed; the lines of concern on his face were clear as he cleared his throat and said, “Should I come back?”

Varya, perusing the menu: “No, my darling, you may stay. You were saying, Romy?”

“I just don’t know why we’re shoveling money into her bank account for her to be a glorified accent chair in our house rather than a nanny.” Roman gestured to the champagne bottle expectantly. “Open it.”

The waiter did as he asked, having been standing there uncomfortably for a moment during their exchange. As he worked to carefully open the champagne bottle, Roman turned his attention back to Varya; her eyes remained on the menu, absently twisting the engagement and wedding band on her finger back and forth.

There was no way, he thought, that she was putting off getting the business signed over to him on purpose. Surely, there was no way; even when Ilarion was alive, even when she had anticipated no further problems, it had always been, if you’re going to be my romantic partner, it seems only right you’d be my partner in business too, don’t you think? And yet—

And yet, Roman could not push down the strange, hazy doubt that occasionally flickered through his mind. He had always wanted Varya, had always found himself wanting and wanting and wanting more and more often, and Varya had always seemed content to indulge him. There was, it seemed, nothing she enjoyed more than indulging him. One more kiss, one more minute in bed, one more lingering glance across the room. She was the absolute pinacle of his hedonism, in every sense of the word, and had proven time and time again that she would give him anything that he wanted.

The business had always been for her and Ilarion. He wanted it, and told her he did, and she said, you can have it, if you like, but like in all things, there was a slyness about his wife—a cruelty—that he found endearing and dangerous. Dangerous, because it wouldn’t have been the first time he’d been on the other end of her cruel nature, playfully poking and unwinding and tugging the thread loose until she had pushed him to the limit.

Something echoed in his head, and he realized that the waiter was asking him what he wanted to eat. Varya had handed the menu over and steepled her fingers, watching him with dark, curious eyes and red painted lips, sooty lashes fluttering. A pretty, painted little snake.

“I’ll take whatever she’s having,” Roman said after a moment, setting his menu aside and returning his attention to the brunette across from him. “Something interesting, kitten?”

“Can I not just appreciate my husband?” Varya demurred. “You’re wearing the suit I like best, after all.”

“It is your birthday. What greater gift is there than me?”

She laughed, delighted by him—as she always was—and took a sip of her champagne. “You were away from me, for a moment.”

He watched her, gauging her carefully. Even I know not to drop my pants when a viper opens its mouth, Bianchi had said, just before Varya had unloaded six rounds into his face and chest less than two feet away from him.

“Just thinking,” is what Roman said finally.

“Hm. A dangerous past time.”

His expression flattened, deadpan. “It’s taken a significant chunk of time to secure your father’s business in my name.”

Something flickered across Varya’s expression. at the word father. “To secure my business,” Varya replied, her voice abrupt and cutting, her eyes narrowed, “in your name.” Absently, she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. She looked to be composing herself, like she’d spoken on a knee-jerk reaction rather than with thinking.

Then, glossy and silken again: “You know your patience means the world to me, Romy.”

There was nothing that he loved more than watching her pull back her venom for him. Drumming his fingers against the top of the table, Roman bridled his own irritation to say, mildly, “I’d do anything for you. Even wait...” He made a thoughtful noise. “Over a year to finally take on the responsiblities you wanted handed over to me.”

“Of course.” Varya smiled prettily, absently straightening out her silverware. “And we will speak no more of my father on my birthday, or any day after this.”

He knew what that meant. She phrased it pretty, wrapped it up in silk and velvet and presented it to him as unassuming as a doe, but he knew what that meant. There is my button, she was saying, there is my trip wire. Don’t push it, Roman. The name Nikita had all but been banned in their household, even when funeral arrangements were being made; any time he’d heard one of the lawyers mention her father’s name, there had been a sharp rebuke. Not in my presence, she would tell him later, I do not want to hear that fucking name in my presence.

“At any rate, there is nothing that I want more than for this whole process to be done,” she continued lightly, reaching across the table to take his hand. “It was always what I wanted, you know. Ilya was better suited to be a functional piece of the business; he was the face because he had to be, not because he wanted to be, and I am better suited for the nitpicking and the details. Being the overseer is much more in your circle of talents, Romy.”

Her words assauged something unsettled and prickly in him, the sweep of the pad of her thumb across the back of his hand returning that doubtful monster in his mind back to its slumber. He sighed.

“You’re right,” he acquiesced after a moment, “it is more in my circle of talents.”

“Undoubtedly.”

“I always got the impression Ilarion wasn’t happy with it,” he added. “Though you two certainly enjoyed making work of me that first night, didn’t you?”

Varya smiled demurely. “It was never meant to make work of you, only to make a good impression.”

“Hm,” he replied, eyes narrowing playfully, “but you enjoy pushing me, V.”

She looked pleased. She always did, when he remarked on something that felt like he was really seeing her, beneath the glossy veneer. His girl did so love being seen.

“Only,” V demurred, “because you so enjoy reining me in.”

“Guilty as charged.”

Roman brought her hand to his mouth, kissing the back of it before relinquishing it and glancing around. He would just have to exercise patience, of which he had the most; patience, modesty, and humility, all excellent qualities that he could participate in at will, at any given time. Without any restraint.

“Did the men get the chandelier installed?” Varya idled, snapping his attention back to her. He narrowed his eyes.

“I told you I didn’t want a chandelier anymore.”

She looked at him across the table, dark doe eyes wide and innocent. “I thought you liked how polished they make the club.”

“No, you little viper,” Roman replied, clicking his tongue, “Paolo has a chandelier in his club, and there’s no fucking way I’m going to have people comparing it.”

“Ah,” she murmured, “the drama of the chandelier goes on.”

“And while we’re at it, might as well gut that one from the estate, too.”

“There’s more than one chandelier in there.”

“Then the men will be busy, won’t they?” He tsked his tongue. “I know you dream about watching me blow my top, V, but I’m making an executive decision on gaudy light fixtures.”

A smile flashed across her expression, pearly teeth and delighted eyes. She sighed, almost dreamily, like there was nothing more that she liked than to be doing this exact thing, and with him.

“Oh, Romy,” the brunette said sweetly, “you are the only thing I dream about.” And then, almost as an after thought: “Gaudy light fixture terrorism included.” She waved her hand to dismiss any protest or rebuttal he might have given her and said, “Now, since it’s my birthday, tell me all of the things you love the most about me.”

Roman sucked his teeth, eyeing her for a moment as he leaned back in the chair. Wicked little thing, waiting to preen and glow under his attention, a feline seeking him out. Her little bout of cruelty before was already forgiven. He said, “We’re going to be here for a while, if I do that.”

“They held the table for over six hours,” Varya demurred, “I’m sure they’ll hold it for as many more as you need.”

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By the time they got to the club, Varya was acting as though nothing had happened.

Truthfully, Roman preferred it that way. It just also left a lot of room to wonder—his wife was a talented actress, adept at smoothing his ruffled feathers out and not divulging her own feelings on the matter. And he wouldn’t ask, of course. If Varya wanted to express herself, she would, and had, quite openly in the past.

“I am so happy to be home,” she announced, gliding past the door to the club once Roman had opened it for her. “Do you think the babies are asleep, yet? I always miss putting them...”

Her voice trailed off, pausing a little as she seemed to realize that the club was cloaked in inky darkness, freezing just a few steps past the threshold. Roman let the door swing shut behind him, nudging her forward with a hand at the small of her back. He was met with some resistance; she steeled, stiffening against his insistence, before taking a few steps forward.

He said, barely keeping the delight out of his voice, “You’re holding up the line, V.”

“Roman,” Varya said, her voice pitched oddly soft and tight, “why—?”

The lights flashed on to a loud, unified cheer of Happy Birthday!; the club had been packed with vases of flowers, the tables donned with food and drink, and everyone worth their salt within a fifty-mile radius had made their way there. Not a single thing was out of place—everything exactly where he had instructed it be placed, and not a fucking chandelier in sight.

Roman came around in front of the brunette, grinning. “Happy—”

He stopped. Varya’s expression was not happy, or even surprised; it was something else, something that he couldn’t read, the pupils of her hot-whiskey eyes blown wide and the normally Renaissance-soft lines of her face sharpened and hardened into an expression that was more vicious.

“V?” he asked. Her eyes snapped to him, and for a second she looked the same way she had that night in the loft, her hands drenched in blood and the kitchen knife clutched in her fist with bodies at her feet: like she didn’t recognize him.

It took a heartbeat, but her expression smoothed out and she smiled, almost sheepish—like she’d been caught doing something naughty, instead of being caught being somewhere else. Someone else, more the wolf than the girl.

“The lights,” she explained, hands resting on his chest, “they startled me, is all.”

A frown creased his expression. He brought his hands up to hold her wrists, thumb pressed against her pulse point. It fluttered unsteadily. Unconvinced, Roman pressed, “The lights?”

“Just the lights,” Varya assured him. She tilted her head up and kissed him, one hand departing his jacket to go to the back of his neck—and when she kissed him, he could feel that strange little flicker of energy, like she’d been stamping something out before it could catch, but it still vibrated under her skin.

He opened his mouth to say something else, but she disentangled from him and swept around to the crowd of people waiting, beaming prettily and playing at bashfulness, as though she did not enjoy their eyes on her and did not soak their attention up like a flower did sunlight. Whatever had been plaguing her in that moment was now gone, and she was awash with attention and love, thanking people profusely and accepting each hug and cheek-kiss directed her way.

Roman brushed off the odd feeling that she wasn’t being as forthcoming with him as he would have preferred—no secrets anymore, isn’t that what they’d agreed on?—and instead waded into the crowd. Music kicked on overhead; chatter picked up to a warm humming around them; there was nothing else to think about except letting his girl enjoy her birthday celebration.

By the time Varya had made a suitable number of rounds (which tended to verge much higher than one, much to Roman’s chagrin—what tedious work, to share her with everyone else), she had barely sipped the glass of champagne someone had planted in her hand. She circled back to him eventually; like always, there was that pinprick tugging in the cavity of his chest, like they were bound by a single thread that kept them from parting too much and too quickly, and when she drew closer to him again it oozed relief, warm and vibrant, through his ribs.

“Sufficiently loved on?” he asked as she neared, hand reaching up to slide around her waist.

“By them? Certainly.” The brunette’s hand smoothed along his shoulder, the pad of her thumb gliding across the velvet of his jacket. “By you, though, not hardly. Not ever.”

“You are insatiable,” Roman agreed in a rumble. He splayed his fingers against the small of her back, tugging her in closer and brushing their noses together.

“Just for you,” Varya murmured, and the words brushed their lips together just a little—but everything with Varya, like this, felt like almost-kissing, enough to push him to some kind of edge where his stomach twisted and wrenched with want when she added, “And only for you.”

“You know I can’t resist you when you talk like that.”

She laughed, leaning in to set her glass to the side and curl her fingers into his shirt for a kiss; everything for a second felt normal, and good, and right again, the strange way she’d gone-away back in the doorway having disappeared, the dark cloud over her having cleared, her wretchedness from dinner dissipated.

And Roman kissed her, with the sound of the party chatter ringing in his ears, and kissed her with the faint taste of champagne flooding his senses when she parted her lips against his, and kissed her while his hand fisted the fabric of her dress and he managed out in a voice rough with want, “So you’re trying to rile me up.”

“I always,” Varya murmured against his mouth silkily, “want you riled, Romy.”

“Varya?”

A stranger’s voice filtered through the haze—the rose-colored one that usually accompanied Varya saying anything like she wanted him riled up—and Roman felt the irritation spike straight through it. He turned to look at the interruption at the same time that Varya did, only to find a young, handsome blonde standing just a foot away.

Varya said, sounding faint, “Maxim?”

“It has been a while,” the blonde said, and he sounded sheepish. “I called Armazd, asking after you—”

“Sorry,” Roman interjected briskly, fingers still curled—now possessively—into the fabric of Varya’s dress against the dip of her spine, “but who are you?”

His wife started to say, “Romy, this is—” at the same time that the man began, “I am sorry, my name—” and they both stopped at the same time, a strange little silence stretching between them.

“Maxim,” Varya said after a second, turning to look at Roman now. “This is Maxim. He is Artyem’s son.”

Roman stared at her, more to buy himself time than anything; she said the name like he was supposed to know who that was. Artyem, but it didn’t sound familiar. Almost any Russian name sounded like gibberish to him, and if Varya had said it to him, it had been in passing, an afterthought, nothing but a whisper of information passed between them before it was gone again.

Until it did. Until he remembered that the person Varya had thought was her father had actually been Artyem, that she’d poisoned him, let him bleed to death on the carpet while she had mentally checked out of the moment. That she had watched him die, but she had been somewhere else—someplace else, the way Ilarion had described it, very far away where she couldn’t even enjoy what she’d done fully.

And Maxim—golden, and polished, and clean-shaven—looked awfully pleasant for someone whose farther had choked to death on his own blood because of Varya.

“I see,” Roman said, even though he didn’t. His gaze turned to Maxim. “And you’ve—shown up without calling ahead?”

“I have been in Turkey,” Maxim explained, “finishing up some business, and I did not know how to get in touch—”

“Well, you spoke with Armazd, didn’t you?” Roman’s head tilted. “The man practically sleeps in our bed, I imagine he would have been happy to get you in contact with us.”

“Admittedly,” Maxim said, “I wanted it to be a surprise—”

No, Roman thought absently, venomously, that won’t do at all.

“—Varya’s birthday—”

“So you slunk in,” Roman elaborated tartly, “like a little street dog, hm?”

“Maxi,” Varya interjected, fingers absently tracing the stitching on Roman’s jacket, “why don’t you go get a drink and acquaint yourself with our friends? Armazd is just there—you see?”

Maxim’s eyes darted between her and Roman for a minute. He shifted on his feet, tilting and giving a little smile that might have liked abashed if Roman didn’t think he saw a little squirm of self-satisfaction in his gaze. Fucker.

“Of course,” the blonde replied after a moment. “C dnyom razhdyenyem, Varushka.” He took a step forward, pressing a kiss to her cheek.

Varya’s thumbnail dug into the lapel of Roman’s jacket. “Thank you, Maxi.”

Once the blonde had departed, linking up with Armazd in the crowd to get introduced, Roman straightened up from the bar. It was impossible not to stare at this newcomer—he glowed with an easy charisma, flashed bright smiles that were all teeth. Roman hated him already.

“Maxi?” he asked her, eyes narrowed, and Varya sighed. He waited for her to elaborate. Perhaps she’d say they had dated once, perhaps they were literally nothing. That would be ideal, after all. Ships passing in the night.

She said, “We grew up together.”

Even worse. Roman twisted a loose, dark curl of hers around his finger. “And you killed his father.”

“Well—” She paused, mouth pressing into a thin line. “He does not know.”

“He doesn’t—” The notion that she was keeping secrets, and not from him, coiled high and happy in his throat. He tried not to sound too delighted when he said, “V, surely he knows.”

“Surely he does not, that I did it. Only that it happened. And I will keep it that way,” she added firmly, picking up her champagne glass from the bar top. “Maxim was incredibly loyal to my father because Artyem was, but more than that—he was mine and Ilya’s friend. I’m sure he is missing Ilya almost as much as I am.”

“As we all are,” Roman agreed sagely, planting a kiss on her temple in spite of the dry look she gave him. It was hard to tell, to get a read on this Maxim. What was it he’d dragged himself out of the trenches for? Just to fly halfway across the world to wish Varya a happy birthday? Above all things, Roman understood that his wife was a desirable thing, and knowing that he kept her out of the reach of others was part of her appeal—but that much? Could someone who was just a friend want that much?

He continued, “So what is it that Maxim offers to the business, hm?”

“I wouldn’t know,” Varya demurred, which didn’t sound at all like the truth. “Artyem was the one who sent him out on jobs. My father kept things tight around the top, you know. If anyone would know what it was Maxim was up to in Turkey who wasn’t my father or Artyem, it would have been Ilarion.”

“I find it hard to believe you have no idea what your father was using someone for.”

The sound of delighted commentary drew both of their eyes away; Irina had come down, both dark-haired infants in her arms, and was walking them toward Varya and Roman. Murmured remarks on what could only be their cuteness passed throughout the crowd of party-goers.

“I am putting them down for bed,” Irina announced as she approached, “and I know you like to say goodnight.”

“Oh, you are an angel,” Varya murmured, glass set aside once again. She leaned in, pressing a kiss to baby Ro’s cheek. Yuliana babbled, and she sighed dreamily, “Have you ever seen more perfect babies, Roman?”

Perfect babies, a perfect wife; soon, he would even have the perfect grip on Gotham’s neck, throttling it until it was nothing but dust and ash. Soon, but not soon enough; he’d be content when it was just done and settled, when there was nothing else standing between him and everything that he wanted. Varya, and the guns—what an odd thing, to know that a year ago he’d set out for this and it was just falling into his lap.

“Romy?”

“Never,” Roman replied, smiling and glancing back at his wife, reaching and cradling the back of Yuli’s head. “I’ve never seen more perfect babies, V.”

Across the room, Maxim watched them. There was something about it that Roman didn’t like—the way his eyes flickered, the way he looked between the children and Varya, the way their eyes met and he didn’t deflect away. Like he didn’t mind getting caught. Where had he come from? What little shithole had he crawled out of, over a year after Nikita’s death and Ilarion’s death—longer, still, since his father’s death? Hadn’t he wondered what had happened to his father?

What are you doing here, he thought venomously, that you think you can just come in here like nothing? Like I won’t root you out like the little rat you are?

Maxim smiled. It was a polite smile, unassuming kind of smile.

Roman picked up his drink from the counter, taking a heavy swallow. Suddenly, the evening seemed to stretch out endlessly in front of him, no finish line in sight.

Nothing else standing between me and everything I want.

And he was going to keep it that way.

[myfeetkeepdancing]

A Devil’s Toy  |  Arvin Russell x Male!Reader

Request: Crossover where Arvin gets connected with the symbiote? Because Spidey!Arvin seems silly and unfitting but Venom!Arvin is kind of 😳😳😳

Words: 3694

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The town you lived in was always quiet. The birds chirped happily in the tree, nature at it's best. Cars approaching from the forest road were easily heard from miles away. Sorting the groceries you just brought home, a distant sound shakes you from your thought. Fast-paced footsteps approach your house from the treeline. They certainly were running. Before you were able to shove the curtain aside, you hear a voice call out your name. Repeatedly.

"Arvin?" You speed to the door, opening it for him. "What happened?" Eyeing the dirty cloth wrapped around his lower right arm. As you looked closer, it covered most of his lower arm. You couldn't see his hand nor wrist. His eyes were narrow, heaving for air, as he clutched his other hand tightly on the cloth. This wasn't the first time Arvin came in like this. In all those years you'd known him, he got in a lot of fights, with the necessary injuries. He won most of them, but some… He knew he was outmatched, yet it is as if he didn't care. As if the greater the challenge, the bigger the appeal.

"G-Get… me… a... k-...k-knife." He stuttered through the heaving breaths, unwrapping the cloth from his arm. You seat him down at the kitchen table and quickly bring him a large knife. For what was the question right now, but you never questioned Arvin. And if you did, most of the time, he didn't answer. At first, you didn't notice any blood as the cloth opened up. His denim jacket still in good shape. You notice how nervous and anxious he is. Eyeing his surroundings constantly. Trust was something Arvin didn't have. At least in most people. You always managed with him. But something was off about Arvin. He kept everything in check. As if he was expecting something or someone.

"Help me (Y/N)-..." He snarled while ripping the last the piece of cloth from his hand. "-get this off me." Struck by fear, revolt, and sheer terror, you jolt back a few steps. Covering your mouth with one hand.

"W-Wha… What is that?!" Arvin's hand was completely black, not from sickness. As far as you knew from a first glance. Because it moved. Your bowels churned in revolt. Feeling your earlier snack rise in distaste. The tar-like ooze moved and pulsated around his hand and lower arm.

"I DON'T KNOW!" He screamed, grabbing the knife. "I don't know! Just get it off me!" Trying to scrape it off with the sharp end. He shook all over, struggling to place the blade against the moving substance. From both angles, it was impossible to decide if he was going to strike the goo or his own skin. His hesitation held the blade at bay. "Goddammit! Help me (Y/N)!" He angrily shot at you.

"C-Can you move your hand?"

"Eh… Yes... "He said, seeing them move shakingly. "I can feel it..."

"Alright… Alright…." Grabbing his coat. "Take it off." You command, pulling him onto his feet. "We have to know how far it's-…"

"(Y/N)?" He asked with widening eyes. Seeing the fear struck in your eyes. "What's-…"

Step by step, you back up from Arvin. Feeling the trembles take over your body as the level of eye contact with him slowly rises. This had to be a nightmare. What Arvin's legs once were, wrapped in jeans, were now encased in the same black ooze from earlier. Forming a new pair of legs for him. And rapidly consuming the rest of his frame. The stuff that ate away at Arvin had towered over you faster than you could believe. Slowly stepping your way. Only Arvin's face now left. You wanted to scream out your lungs, call for Arvin. Wanted to help him. But all sense had left you. Terror had overcome you. Especially when you saw the rows of gigantuous, white razor-sharp teeth erupt out from the black being's skin. Engulfing Arvin's face from its forehead and chin. In a matter of seconds, Arvin had disappeared completely. Taken by the black pulsating goo that stood before you. A pair of white oval eyes stared at you as the jawline with long teeth stretched into what could be described as a smile.

With your back against the wall, the only response you could muster was throwing the closest thing beside you at it. A cup. It did nothing. The black mass towered over you as your legs buckled and crashed to the floor. "A-A...A-...Arvin...??"

"Well hello…" The creature spoke with a haunting voice. "Arvin is currently occupied... elsewhere." Chuckling to himself. As its jaws opened, your nightmare was complete. A red, ribbed, slimy tentacle of a tongue stretched outwards. Licking its so-called teeth. "He'll be fine, though." Approaching you, as you tried to crawl away. "I promise." It smiled; the drips of slime dangled from its teeth. "For now, I am hungry..."

"P-P-Please… I…" You pleaded, covering your eyes with your arms. Shielding you from the horror that was in front of you. The tears finally showing. Its arms were massive, bulking masses of muscles. It claws with sharp talons close to striking distance.

"Ooooow." It arched back up. "I see... "Nodding in sudden amusement at your shuddering frame, held in a fetus position. "Now, I get it." It chuckled. "I get it." Looking around the room. "I can't touch your lover." You notice the innards of the black ooze struggle and fight.

"A-Arvin's still in there…?"

"Oh, Yes." It said before the black ooze curled back from Arvin's face. Revealing him alive, and surprisingly well.

"I'm sorry (Y/N)!" He said. "There was this truck-" And as Arvin was telling his story, you notice the body language of the thing. Mimicking Arvin's way of speaking. As if Arvin was controlling the black ooze. But somehow was also… alive? Sentient? The story was impossible to follow as you watch the movements, streamlined with Arvin's. This was impossible. But you were glad Arvin was alive.

"Wh-... What was that about-... about...?" You shook your head, conflicted by so many things. "I have so many questions."

There was little time for Arvin to react as the ooze slipped back over his face. He protested; you could see the struggle. But somehow, the ooze retook control. "Sorry lovey-doveys… But it's time. Allow me to introduce myself." Bowing before you. "I'm Venom, and Arvin here-..." Tapping its belly. "-...is my new host." Laughing amusingly. "Together, we're going to have so much fun."

It's pale white eyes stared at you, as if it was expecting something from you. "And you are?" It asked. "It's customary to introduce yourself to newcomers."

"(Y/N)." You said in a shaken voice. "I'm (Y/N)."

"Well, I already knew that." It looked back up again. "I played along, out of kindness." Giving you a nod and a smile. Before turning its attention back to its surroundings. "Anyway. I hear them." It stopped, eyeing the direction the sound came from. It doesn't take much for your trained ears to hear the footsteps in the distance. The rushed, fast-paced ones. Cracking leaves and branches as they approached. Some walked with a determined stride. But they were with many.

"I thought it was you at first." It quipped back, showing you a sort of smile. "But I was wrong. Sorry!" The smile was highly uncomfortable to watch, the rows of teeth showing high and wide. The stench was something that came second. But not any better.

"I… I don't know what you're talking about." Keeping your eyes on the lumbering figure standing in the room. It somehow had a muscular physique to it, despite the otherwordly colors. Black and rippled with some sort of veins protruding from its so-called skin. It's highly disturbing to look at.

"Little Arvin and I will explain later." Moving its arm towards you. Every movement made you jump. Especially this, seeing its talons close in. "Don't worry." It smiled, seeing you repulse from fear, with your back against the wall. "I won't hurt you." It said, but its tone was more taunting than comfortable at this point.

"Take this." Opening his black oozing hand to you. The skin bubbled and moved as something began to emerge. From the torso, something slid underneath the skin towards the hand. The happening alone made you sick. "Arvin won't need it." Revealing the gun, you knew Arvin carried with him from time to time. "He has a better weapon now." He grinned, tossing it in your lap as it looked for the newcomers.

"W-Wh… What do I do?" You've had practice with a gun. That was a fact. Arvin had shown you, taught you. But at this point. You were completely blank—pulling at the magazine. Trying to get the damn mechanism to work. But your shaking hands struggle to make anything work right now.

 "You phew phew that thingie-... "Pointing at the gun with its talons. "-at any one of those outside." It said while watching you struggle. "Plenty of targets."

 "I… I… don't…" You stammer, dropping it to the floor. "Fuck…!" Cursing more under your breath while you clammy hands struggle to pick it up.

You recoil back against the wall, not that you could go further. The oozes torso ripple and move as you saw Arvin reach out. His entire upper torso revealing from the black ooze. "Come 'ere." He said while handling the gun. Cocking and reloading it. It surprised you to see Arvin this relaxed. Normally his anger would have surfaced and lost control over the situation. But now, he seemed convinced about what was about to happen.

You jump scare a little as a magazine for the gun popped into your lap. "Found this in his back pocket." Venom said as the hole in his shoulder closed.

He took your one hand, his grip firm and reassuring, warm to the touch, to the point of bolstering your confidence. For a moment, you're lost in each other eyes, feeling a sense of humanity return. Bringing you back as he helped to put your fingers on the gun. Closing your second hand around the other. "Use it if you have to." He said. "Stay safe."

"Arvin… How do we know if they're-" Your voice was cut off. The air knocked from your lungs. As the world around you was reduced to splinters, smoke, and glass. Eardeafening explosions shook you to the very bone. It all happened so fast. In that split second, the door at the other end of the room was reduced to mere splinters. Chunks of wood scattered across the floor and dug itself into softer material than itself. A loud ring sounded in your ears as you lost your bearings completely. Your vision had doubled, twice, or thrice—more than enough to see Venom move away from you. Through the whirling dust and flying wood splinters, you see it darting across the floor. The room wasn't that big, but in an instance, it sat upon the figure standing in the doorframe. Its scream didn't reach your ear because it didn't have time to. You shouldn't have blinked, but your ramshackle mind had too. Before you had any further chance to see what was happening. The figure had disappeared. Leaving Venom standing there, licking its teeth with that weird-looking tongue.

You jolt back into life as you feel the air coming back into your lungs. Coughing the dust and dirt up from your windpipe, it had forced itself in. A shock racked your frame as an object hit your foot. "Keep that safe." Venom's voice called out, noticing the large shotgun in front of you. Before you looked up and responded to him. Venom was already gone. Luckily your vision had begun to come back. To your shock, around you was a circle of splinters and fragments of other metal embedded deep into the wall. Struck by panic again, you check yourself. Hands, legs, arms. A relieved smile cracked your lips. You weren't hurt. Venom and Arvin had most certainly protected you from the blast. Seeing the damage all around you. It was one mass of destruction. With your courage gathered, and like any natural instinct kicking in, you try to get up on your legs. Water. You needed water. And eye the sink.

Shards of glass shatter across the counter as you duck back to the floor. You try to stay low, hunched as the sound of gunshots increased. The automatic fire increased as voices called out. Unfamiliar and loud. Commands were given. Screaming, yelling. They must have seen you as the bullets tore through the windows. The impact clearly seen on the walls. Ripping and tearing through every inch of the house. You duck lower to the ground. Terrified to the bone. Frames falling from the wall, and shelves coming loose. Everything went flying as the bullets tore it all apart. You didn't dare to look up. Broken glass and furniture flew through the air. Nothing was safe. Feeling the chances of survival slim by every passing moment.

Outside was this constant carnage, ripped screams. Trees being felled and branches snapping like twigs in a storm. It was a warzone outside. You could hear it, feel it—the tearing of limbs and flesh. The cries of the injured were short-lived. If there were any at all. With the sense of time and place lost in the heat of battle. The sound of battle and slowly began dying down. Less and less guns were being fired. Arvin better returns in one piece; you prayed to the Lord. In a moment like this, faith was a scapegoat option. Because you felt helpless and prayed for a good outcome.

The sound of someone approaching across the porch nailed you to the floor. Once the bullets had started tearing through the walls, surely targeting you, you had fallen to the floor. Flat on your stomach in the dirt and debris. Praying for your life. And now you lay there, with the gun in reach of you. You frantically crawl towards it, realizing too late that you were trudging through the glass splinters. But the adrenaline kept you going. Your fingers shuddered across the cold metal of the gun. Struggling to get a grip on it again.

As the heavy treads of boots stamped across the porch towards the already blasted open door. The voice of a man, different than Arvin's. Talking to someone. Tears had already flooded your vision as you brought the iron sights up along your eyesight. Clouding your vision. The gun shook terribly in your hand, as you crawled back up against the wall where you sat earlier. Countless holes had penetrated through the wall, now shafts of light shining through. It's mystical to see the dust flying around in the sudden silence. Only focused on the impending footsteps.

You squinted your eyes, trying to avoid the look on the person's face once you had pulled the trigger. You knew the mechanism; it was rough. Requiring a strong pull on the trigger to fire. "ARVIN!" You screamed from the top of your lungs. Crying out for help. "VENOM!" Tears rolled down your cheeks as your gaze swept to the other end size. The backdoor flew open with force.

"Son of a bitch is here!" Another voice called from the back. Taking steps into the house. Hearing the floor creak under the weight. You swing the gun back and forth. Not sure who was going to show up first. Either way, they were closing in on you. You knew the layout better than the intruders. You knew where the backdoor was, and how he had to walk down the hallway into the kitchen. You swing back to the front door. The one in the back had to be a few footsteps away from you.

The flash blinded you for a moment, rocking your entire frame as the gun fired its bullet down the barrel. Smashing through the wooden wall into the hallway. Splintering chunks of wood across the floor and into the hallway. A hushed curse came from the hallway. Your eyes catch movement at the front door. Everything went so fast. The man appeared in the doorway, almost in a veil-like light, holding a rifle. When a tentacle of blackness shot up into its side. Gurgled screams shot up from its shuddering frame. His arms go limb as the rifle hits the floor, and disappears as fast as he appeared. Not a scream, nothing. Just gone. A glimpse of white eyes and teeth are more than enough to reassure Venom and Arvin were there. A relief. Seeing the black mass surge past the doorframe off the hallway. A short burst of automatic fire forced you back into that scared fetal position as it connected with all sorts of pottery in the kitchen beside you. Piercing through the wall, shattering plates, pans, and cups. But silenced with a gurgle of blood and air, followed by a hard thud on the floor. The only thing you could hear was your own ragged breath and spend cartridges rolling on the floor.

 "(Y/N)?" Arvin sped around the corner, seeing the last of Venom's skin disappear behind him. "You alright?" You nodded as you caught your breath, slowly sitting yourself back up again. Arvin didn't need an answer. He saw the small cuts and splinters in your forearm. He looked around through the destruction, searching that familiar cabinet that now had fallen to the floor. Kicking the broken pieces away with his feet. Fishing the first aid out. By now, he knew quite well where to find it. Approaching you with a caring look on his face, yet also a smile. A rare smile for Arvin. "You look like shit." He said, looking down at you with that same taunting smile.

"T-That's..." You laughed but was interrupted by a rough coughing fit. "T-That's my line."

 "Not today." Handing you a bottle of liquor, he found lying on the floor, surprising intact. "Just like old times. But this time…" He kneeled in front of you, brushing the dust from your lips with his other hand. "I'll help you." Cupping your cheeks in his hands. Your heart already raced from earlier. But in that split second, it skipped several. So it was true what Venom said; that was the last thing that crossed your mind. Before his lips connected with yours. Kissing you with great care and precision. The world had already fallen silent, but now there was nothing more but you and Arvin. "Thank you." You mumbled into the slowly sloppier kiss.

"No problem." Venom responded in his dark voice before Arvin could. The silence was broken by the two of you chuckling softly in each others' embrace. It was true. Venom had done so much for the two of you. He was the reason you both were alive. And together. Finally.

"You still have a lot to learn, Arvin." You groan, locking your jaw as you observe him struggle with the pincers. Trying to remove the last shards and splinters of glass and wood from your arm.

"Sit still." He leaned upwards, giving you a kiss. "I need to concentrate." Ticking the bottle with his pincers, as a sign of telling you to drink.

"How can I... when you kiss me like that." Arvin's proud glance at you said more than enough. With his other hand, he guided the bottle upwards to your lip. He knew how much pain you were having. The adrenaline had worn off quicker than you expected. Arvin knew that all too well. "The preacher won't approve of us." You sighed, rolling your head back against the wall. The liquor slowly numbing your senses.

 "And he ain't a good one, you know that." Arvin hissed. The rest of his muttering was impossible to hear. And it might be for the better. From day one, Arvin didn't have a good hunch about that preacher. But he was shut up by his sister. She believed in him, like so many others.

"Ow, I want to pay him a visit." Venom said, emerging on a string of gooiness beside Arvin's head. "Let's have some fun with him." He smiled viciously. "I can read your mind, Arvin. You hate him. All the more reason to."

"Won't hurt to teach him a lesson…?" Arvin looked at you for approval. As if he needed that from you. You and Arvin were on the same level on so many things. The preacher was one of them. You also didn't go to church for the longest time. To the disapproval of many in the town. But it made the Sunday morning one hell of a good morning. Arvin stopped going too and came around your place at that every Sunday morning.

"You know how I think about him." You grinned. "But what about all this?" Eyeing the interior of your house. "It's ruined." The destruction all around was immense. Bullets had torn everything apart. The table and chairs, reduced to chunks of wood. Large shotgun shells had blasted holes through the walls and wreaked havoc on the interior. It's a wonder the walls were still standing. "I can't live here anymore…"

"I don't know…" Arvin looked around, raking his fingers through his brown curls, lost in his thoughts.

"And how about all those bodies?" The thought had just crossed your mind. You hadn't seen one, but there had to be at least ten of them scattered around your house and littering the forest.

"I'm still hungry…" Venom said, showing its row of teeth, smiling very broadly.

"He ate most of them…" Arvin said, as if that was giving any comfort.

"And then...Arvin? What's next?"

Arvin's gaze was locked elsewhere, thoughts far beyond the room, but said nothing. He hunched on his knees, turned around, and sat himself down beside you. "I don't know…" He sighed, resting his head against the wall. "But we'll figure something out." Putting his arm around you. Resting your head against one another, watching the dust dance in the air through the beams of sunlight, shining through the bullets holes. "Together."

[sweatergirlsposts]

Imagine Nancy Trying To Find You After The Events at The Star Court Mall

Title: My Savior

Pairing: Nancy Wheeler x Fem Plus-Size!Reader

Request By: @soggy-enchilada​

Warning: Mention of Blood and little angst

Worry is all that flooded Nancy’s mind. 

The disappearance of so many people, due to the events at Start Court Mall, made the town distraught as they tried to find their loved ones. So many were consumed and flayed to make the body mass of the mindflayer. Nancy knew that everyone in her family was safe as they went back home after the event of that night but there was one person she was fretting over. You.

You, her axe wielding outdoorsy rescuer who she secretly was smitten for. When Johnathan and Nancy went out looking for Barb and Will, you had been in the area. You were collecting wood for your hidden cottage when you felt yourself being watched. Dropping the forgotten kindling on the forest floor, you held you axe in hand to protect you from whatever unknown that was in the forest.   

“NANCY!”

“JOHNATHAN!”

You heard screams coming from not too far away. 

‘What the hell are people doing out so late in the forest?!’ you thought. At least you knew the forest like the back of your hand, unlike the locals who were out here with you. Still being cautious about whatever was watching, you followed the sound of the screams holding your axe ready to attack. 

You found the boy first. Slightly lanky in posture, bowl cut hair, adorned in a  black jean jacket and flashlight in hand. A foul smell lingered in the air of similar odor to decaying animal flesh. You noted the smell earlier when you first ventured into the woods that night but never thought to go investigate. The smell was the strongest here. 

“Nancy?” the boy called out getting on all fours in front of a tree. You observed from behind a tree close by, wondering why he was talking to the stump part of the tree. Not to seconds later you could see a hand emerge from the stump, making the boy jump backwards. From your view from behind a substantial tree, it scared you half to death to see a slimy small human hand emerge from the tree. You crouch down in the wilderness, slowly making your way closer to what’s happening. You wanted to be close enough if you had to step in but far enough to be able to run away.  

“JOHNATHAN!” a voice screamed coming from the tree. Johnathan, you assumed, responded immediately after being startled by the hand before calling out to the voice. 

“Nancy!?” Johnathan scrambled to reach for the hand popping out of tree and started pulling like he was in a game of tug-o-war. Pulling with all his might, he dragged her out from the slimy abyss in the tree, and she landed on top of his form.

Thinking that she was free, Nancy let out a long held frightened sigh at what just happened to her. Where did she go? What was that thing?!  Flooded her shaken mind. All that mattered was that she was out of there and was now safe.......or so she thought.

Gone without notice to the locals, except you, materialized an appendage of some sort that reached through the flesh veiled cavity. What looked to be a clawed hand unfurled from the form of a fist  and seized the teenage girl by the foot. 

‘It’s got me,’ is the only singular thought that popped into Nancy’s brain as she felt her heart drop to the bottom of her toes where the creature had a grasp on her and tugged. Nancy let out a yelp as she felt herself being tugged backwards towards the hole, startling Johnathan. It took him a couple of seconds to realize until he felt Nancy being pulled off of him.

“Hold on Nance!” Johnathan clambered back onto his feet before grabbing under her arms and tugged back. The creature was strong and Johnathan could feel his feet starting to give out beneath him.

“Don’t let me go!”

“I won’t!”

It was now or never you thought. You let the creature get to the locals or you help out. You chose the latter. You ran from behind your new hiding spot behind a fallen tree, axe glistening in the moonlight, ready to help the locals. 

Too focused on the monster grabbing Nancy’s leg, neither Johnathan and Nancy noticed your incoming approach. Johnathan gave one massive tug, exposing  the arm further out from the decaying hole. 

You wound up for the swing, axe coming from directly behind your head down onto the creatures extremity.  Clean cut to the bone off came whatever limb that tried to grab the poor girls leg. Thank god you had sharpened your axe that morning.

The creature let out a haunting shriek feeling the detachment of it’s limb to it’s body and retreated the rest of the limb back to through the flesh veil. 

You looked at where the girl was pulled out of. It was some type of fleshly decaying hole that was closing as to be no longer used and revert back into the bark and wood it originally was. 

The detached hand laid limp on the ground. You bring the axe down one more time to make sure that it wouldn’t suddenly start moving. You had seen John Carpenter’s ‘The Thing’ too many times to know to always make sure it was really dead. You could feel small splotches of blood from the creature on your round cheeks as if they were supposed to be freckles. 

You took a couple of breaths trying to calm down from the sudden adrenaline rush before turning to the two horrified teenagers still on the ground.

You dropped the axe to the side to make yourself less intimidating to them and spoke, “What the hell are you guys doing out here?”

“We could ask you the same,” spoke Johnathan.

“I live out here,” you stopped before offering each of them a hand. They looked at each other and then decided to take your hand. Johnathan got up with your help fine, but Nancy stumbled into your stocky form.

“Woah there, you’re probably feeling some effects of shock...” you trailed off trying to get a name from the girl

“Nancy, and this is Johnathan,” she motioned to Johnathan behind her as she moved back from you regaining her footing, “How did you find us?”

“Well when your screaming bloody murder it’s not that hard to find someone. You guys had let the whole forest know you’re out here. You guys should come with me if you want to survive the night out here,” you warned them. 

Nancy could feel the genuineness in your words, after all you just saved her from that thing. Nancy was about to take a step forward to follow you, but Johnathan held out an arm to stop her.

“Wait. Why should we go with you?” Johnathan sized you up, trying to tell if you had other intentions. You didn’t like when people would give you once overs, especially after you save their life.

“Do I need to remind you that I just saved you and your friend here,” you scoffed, “besides I know the forest like the back of my hand. I can show you back wherever you came from in the morning, it’s too dangerous to go now. I have a cottage that’s a five minute walk from here, but it’s fine by me if you get lost. I was just trying to help,” you picked up your axe and rotated to the walking direction of your cabin. 

“Wait we’re coming,” Nancy spoke up gathering her bearings and grabbing Johnathan by the arm and dragging him along. 

Nancy was thankful that she followed back to your cottage instead of getting lost that night in the woods. Over the next two years, Nancy would visit once a week. Being saved from a monster can really bond two people together. 

A lot of the time she would help tend to the greenery placed in your cottage. You had an affinity for growing plants, flowers, and natural herbs in your house. In addition to your indoor plants, you kept a small self built green house in the back where you held all your vegetables and fruits. In the spring and summer, elegant colourful flowers would surround your property like it had came straight out of a fairy-tale.  

Being around you was very calming, Nancy thought in comparison to the monster hunting life, it was peaceful almost. She could see why you liked living here in the woods. 

You told her that your parents had home schooled you in the cabin up until last year when they had their ‘car accident’. There was two reasons why you stayed out of suburban Hawkins and lived in the forest you told her. You stayed because it’s your parents house and it was the only thing you had let of them and you don’t think that Hawkins would be very accepting of you per say. 

You waited a year of knowing Nancy, before you officially told her of your liking towards the same sex. Instead of revolting away in disgust or showing if she uncomfortable, she sat there shocked, not in a bad way but just in surprise. You told that she wouldn’t have to worry about you liking her or any of the sort, you told her that you just wanted to get it off your chest.      

 It might have stopped your crush from ever growing bigger than it already was on Nancy but it didn’t stop hers. Yes she might have went out with Steve and Johnathan, and liked being with them, but that didn’t stop from hiding her curiosity towards you.   

Nancy was worried when she hadn't heard from you in the days leading up to the battle of Star Court, but she was so caught up in everything that she didn’t have time to make a trip out to you in the forest. When she learned that Brimborn Steel Works, the breeding ground for the mind-flayer was near your property, she hopped into her mom’s station wagon and sped to your property, giving no regard for the speed limit on the road.  

Pulling up onto the dirt road path that lead up to your house, she spotted your red Chevy LUV pickup at the side of the cottage in it’s usual spot. That meant one of two things to Nancy. You were either inside live and well tending to your plants or not inside at all and had been taken by Billy Hargrove to be used by-

Nancy didn’t even want to think of the possibility of you being dead.

Nancy pulled on the sleeves of the sweater she wore. It was actually your sweater. You gave her the sweater that night as something temporary to use for clothing instead of wearing the mucus-caked one’s she had on. It was a bit big on her petite form but kept her warm nonetheless. She never really gave it back, but you didn’t mind her wearing it. It looked better on her, you’d believe as you’d try to suppress a smile. 

Nancy got out of the and took notice that the flowers had been wilting while some had died and looked to be rotted.....just like the pumpkins on the Wright farm pumpkin patch last year. 

Nance could feel the spike of fear stabbing her heart and rushed over to your front door banging on it to see if you were home.

“(Y/N)! (Y/N)” Nancy shouted still pounding of the door.

No use. Nance went to the side window where your bedroom was. Everything looked still and untouched in your bedroom. On the inside window sill sat the small fern plant that Nancy had bought you for your birthday a couple months ago. The fern was no longer a bright and lively green but now shriveled and looking ready to turn to dust.

Nancy went back to your front door and tried banging again. No answer. You would have answered though. The only people that visited you were her and Johnathan.

‘No answer, wilted flowers, dead fern, untouched room, no answer, rotten flowers, dead fern, untouched room’

Nancy collapsed to the ground knowing the worst happened. 

It got you.

Quiet sobs racked her form as she felt her heart rip string by string. She lost her savior.

You had just finished cutting down logs for the day in the forest. Wheelbarrowing them back  to the cottage, you noticed Nancy’s mom’s station wagon on your dirt path. You put the wheelbarrow down and jogged down the path to your cottage.

You were so worried about Nancy(more than anyone) and everyone especially since the steel works was on your way to town and you knew that that thing was there. You didn’t want to risk going into town if it meant risking your life against that abomination. You guess that they took care of it if that meant Nancy is here. 

You looked at your porch as you jogged to your cottage and notice a petite form, one that you could recognize anywhere, curled in a ball on it. 

“NANCY!” you shouted still jogging over, “NANCY!”

She heard her name and lifted her head. There you were, coming over like a dream that she made up in her head to console her about your death. But you were too real for her to be imagining right then. She wiped the tear tracks from her face and then clambered to get up and run to you. 

Nancy ran into you not wasting any second longer to be consoled by you in your comforting soft arms. 

“I thought you were dead!” Nancy cried into strong shoulder, hugging you, “Please don’t ever scare me like that (Y/N)! I can’t loose you”

“Hey, hey it’s alright Nancy Drew. I’m here, I’m alive” you pressed a comforting kiss against her forehead. 

“But but the flowers! You didn’t answer, I thought they took you,” Nancy whimpered still in slight hysterics. 

“Nance everything is okay, well maybe not the flowers, but I’m fine. I was just out chopping wood. I had to make some of the flowers wilt in case anyone came around and thought I was here and take me. But hey, I’m not going anywhere,” you leaned your forehead against hers

“Promise?”

“What kind of savior would I be?”.

MASTERLIST 

[katehuntington]

Title: In Bad Waters - part eight Word count: ±2900 words Episode summary: Still in possession of the Winchesters’ belongings, Zoë meets up with the hunters on her next case. When it turns out to be a little more complicated than anticipated, she accepts their help in order to make an important deadline. Part eight summary: Zoë might have accepted the boys help, that doesn’t mean they get along. If the hostility between them isn’t enough, Sam and Dean have some unresolved issues of their own. Episode warnings: Dark! NSFW, 18+ only! Descriptions of domestic violence/child abuse. Drug use/addiction. Angst, gore, violence, character death. Description of blood, injury and medical procedures/resuscitation. Swearing, alcoholism. Supernatural creatures/entities, mentions of demon possession. Descriptions of torture and murder, drowning. Illegal/criminal practices. Mentions of nightmares and flashbacks. Author’s note: Beta’d by @winchest09​​​​​ and @deanwanddamons​​​​​. Thanks, girls! Gif isn’t mine. If you are the creator or know who made it, please tell me so I can credit you.

Supernatural: The Sullivan Series Masterlist

S1E02 “In Bad Waters” Masterlist

     A little less than an hour later, Sam, Dean and Zoë are sharing a table in In-N-Out. All three scheduled in some time to trade their business suits for their everyday clothes. The boys are comfortable in plaid shirts, worn jeans, and dusty old shoes, while Zoë looks like a totally different person now that she left her black pumps, blazer and dress pants in her hotel room. She’s wearing her hair down, her blown locks playfully curled up after last night’s shower. Her grey shirt has the famous Pink Floyd logo on it; a ray entering a triangle and breaks off into a rainbow when it exits. The brand new biker jacket hangs over the back of the bench while she plays with the loose tie of her All Stars shoe, wiggling her foot rhythmically. 

     U2’s Beautiful Day is playing in the background. It fits, considering the clear blue sky and warm sun outside. Satisfied, Dean and Zoë devour their burgers while Sam has settled for a milkshake, since they don’t have salads at this restaurant. Stunned and a little disgusted, he watches how Zoë intends to break the world record, tailed by Dean. The younger Winchester stares at them both, as the huntress swallows the last bite of the massive Animal Burger and starts on an additional cheeseburger she ordered. Apparently, Zoë doesn’t feel the need to hold back, despite having company, but then again, she wouldn’t change her demeanor for anyone.

     Dean doesn’t even notice her manners as he shares her appetite. He’s more annoyed that she finished her burger before he did. He looks up for a moment as she licks the sauce from her fingers after finishing, then continues eating even faster than he did a moment ago.

     “Dude! Seriously, a food race?” Sam chuckles.      “Wholth?” Dean says with his mouth full.      He swallows his bite, which apparently was a little bigger than he anticipated. He coughs and hits his chest with his fist, Zoë can’t help to laugh when she sees tears appear in his eyes.      “What are you? Fuckin’ five years old?” she grins.      “I wasn’t racing you,” he mutters hoarse.      “Oh, you so were.” She sniggers, dipping one of Dean’s fries in mayonnaise. “Are you gonna eat that?”      Obviously enjoying herself, she waits for his reaction. He watches her move the fry to her mouth with a look of shock and repugnance on his features. How dare she?      Zoë chews on the snack provokingly. as expected he goes for the counter attack.      “Don’t touch my fucking food,” he warns, pulling his portion of fries to his side of the table, clearly annoyed with his colleague stealing. “And I wasn’t racing you, ‘cause if I did, you would be many burger lengths behind, woman.”      “That’s what’s bugging you the most, isn’t it? Dean Winchester just got defeated by a girl,” she nags.      “I can take you with ease,” he claims, confidently.      She laughs in return.“You wouldn’t stand a chance.”      “Wanna bet?”      “Knock it off, you two.” Sam breaks it up and looks from one to the other. “Now, could we concentrate on the case? We all got better things to do.”      “I have better things to do. You on the other hand just have an unhealthy obsession with helping me,” she corrects, as she drinks from her milkshake through the straw.      “Whatever,” Sam counters with a huff. “Let’s focus here. We’re dealing with a frustrated child spirit most likely on a killing spree.”      “Yeah, but how the hell is she still here? I already burned her bones,” Zoë brings to mind.      “She must be connected to some kind of object then, are you sure you burned everything?” Dean checks.

     Zoë slightly tilts her head and glares at him with an attitude. Is he fucking kidding?      “We’re sure, I was there with her,” Sam confirms, jumping in before the huntress can snap at his brother.      “Nothing more romantic than a night at the graveyard,” Dean comments with a little grin, earning a death stare from Sam, and so he continues seriously. “We need to figure out what’s keeping her here before she goes all Mike Tyson again.”      “She probably targets the people who are directly or indirectly responsible for her death. I don’t think she’ll rest until she kills every single one of them unless we do something about it,” Zoë speaks up.      “So, who could be her next target?” Sam wonders.      “It could be anyone, but the biggest candidates for a one way ticket to the land of the dead are probably Mrs. Shire and her son, maybe even Mrs. Dawlson,” Zoë realizes.      “Who?” Sam and Dean question at the same time.      “Her teacher at Elementary School. She knew about the abuse,” she informs, sipping her shake.

     Dean seems confused. After all, he knows Zoë only arrived here last night. “How do you even know that?”      “Because I had a fucking chat with her, asshat,” she claims, snappy.      Dean bites his tongue and shakes his head slightly, letting a silent sigh slip from his lips. This woman is unbelievable. If it wasn’t for Sammy being so dead set on helping the bitch, he would get the hell out of dodge.      Ignoring her comment, he picks up a few fries and stuffs his mouth full, not noticing the exchange of looks between Zoë and Sam. As soon as the youngest Winchester makes eye contact, he knows she didn’t talk to Mrs. Dawlson; she saw something in one of her flashbacks.      “There could be a dozen more possible victims we don’t know about,” Sam states, quickly filling the void before it becomes noticeable.      “True, but to figure out who might be next, we need to find more info on what happened to Laura,” she declares.      “We already know what happened to her. Her dad abused her till death followed, nothing to add to that,” Sam says.      “No, I mean after that.”      Zoë leans forward, snitching another fry from the hunter across from her, who snaps his head up to her, staring her down and wondering where she got the nerve to steal his food twice.      “Don’t you think it’s a little strange that no one found out about this murder yet? Because that what it was; murder. Her father killed her. Child services should have been all over this, especially with another minor in the household. Laura was buried without a conviction, while she obviously did not die of natural causes,” the smart woman brings to mind. “Why is that?”      “I mean, the system is flawed. Maybe they missed it?” Sam suggests.      “No, I don’t believe that. She must have been a mess, considering what her victims look like,” she ponders.      Both boys nod as a sign of agreement; she has a point. Dean rubs his chin as he thinks. Then his facial expression changes, the metaphorical light bulb switching on in his brain. He glances up at the woman opposite of him, who watches him questioning.

     “Dr. Hughes”, he says out of the blue.      “I know that name,” Zoë realizes, trying to remember where she has heard it before.      “It’s the doc from the morgue that we talked to,” he fills in. “He did the slicing on Shire’s dead body and also mentioned Ronald was a friend of his. I thought he responded weird when Sam mentioned the Hobbit dude.”      “Is the Methodist Medical Center the only dead men’s storage in town?” Zoë asks the whizkid on Dean’s right.      “Not sure. Let me check.” Sam takes out his laptop and sets it up on the table. As he works the computer, Zoë continues their brainstorming session.

     “One way or the other, we need to get our hands on Laura’s death report and we need to figure out who wrote it. I’m guessing someone covered for Shire,” she speaks up.      “How is that even possible these days, with all the paperwork and the forensics?” Sam rubs his temple, taking in Zoë for a second, but then returns his gaze to the laptop screen in front of him.      “You think we’re the only ones who lie and deceive?” Zoë returns, smartly. 

     “We need to talk to more people. Someone who was there and experienced the abuse first hand and might know more about the cover-up. The Shire dude’s wife maybe?” Dean suggests.      “We can’t turn up on her doorstep and confront her. If she doesn’t know her husband possibly erased evidence, it’s just gonna bring a shit ton of drama and a hell of alot explaining to do when she starts asking questions,” Zoë makes clear.

     She forks her fingers through her hair and checks her phone for the time; shit. It’s almost 1 PM. Frustrated about the many blank pages of this case, she sighs, pulling at the corner of her bottom lip with her teeth. There’s so much about this job that doesn’t add up.      “I don’t get how she could still be here. There was nothing left of her remains,” she sighs.      “There has to be an explanation for that,” Sam ponders, as he stares at the address on display. “Anyway, there are no other morgues in town besides the one at the hospital on W. Kingshighway.”   

     “I tell you what.” With a neat throw Zoë tosses her empty plastic cup into the garbage can across the aisle. “Sam, you keep an eye on the Shire family. Dean’s gonna have a chat with Dr. Hughes, see if you can get some info on the death report. I’m gonna tail the teacher for a while,” she decides.      Sam nods approvingly before his brother can object. He folds down the laptop screen and gets up. “Sounds good to me.”      “Make sure you keep your eyes open, that little pain in the ass manages to beat up grown ups without the people next door noticing,” Zoë warns as she picks up her helmet from the bench.      “You think this is our first rodeo?” Dean responds with a scoff.      “You didn’t see me coming the other night in Rochester,” she counters sassy.

     As she passes him she pets his shoulder, the one she put a bullet in only two nights ago. Dean flinches when a dim pain shoots through his arm again. That fucking b--      Before he can call her names, she exits the fast food restaurant, probably expecting the Winchesters to follow like obedient dogs. Stunned, he watches her walk over to her motorcycle, huffing in disbelief. First she doesn’t want their help, and now she’s giving out orders like she rules the fucking world. He didn’t think it could be possible, but his detest for her just grew to an all time high.

     “Mark my words, one of these days I’m gonna shoot her down,” he announces frustrated.      “Ahuh,” Sam responds, cynicism on his tongue as he puts the laptop in his backpack. “Just make sure you don’t pull a gun on her in public, will you?”      “Can’t make any promises.” His brother huffs. “Anyway, you can have the car if you drop me off at the hospital. Let’s get this over with so that we can put some distance between us and the Wicked Witch of the West.” 

     Sam’s lips form a constricted smile, luckily his brother doesn’t notice. He has to admit that he’s enjoying the fact that his big brother is being told what to do by a girl, while normally he only takes orders from one person and one person only; their dad. What he finds interesting, however, is that despite a few muttered objections, Dean actually follows through with it. 

     “And you know what’s the fun part about all this?” Sam nags as they exit In-N-Out.      “What?” Dean responds, annoyed, scanning the parking lot in order to spot Zoë’s Road King.      “You have to dress like a penguin again.” The younger Winchester grins as he opens the door to the passenger’s seat.

     His brother stares at him over the top of the car, realizing he’s going undercover as the FBI Agent Young once more.      “Ah, come on! Can’t we trade?” he asks desperately.      Sam laughs and sits down. “No way, dude.”      Dean does the same and closes the door, complaining. “Man, I hate suits.”      “You think I’m comfortable in one during these temperatures?” Sam returns.      “Sam, even if I’d be freezing my ass off, I will never be at ease in that ridiculous outfit,” Dean states while turning the ignition, allowing Gimme Three Steps by Lynyrd Skynyrd to play on the cassette deck.

     “I’m not trading places. I can work some stuff out while I’m guarding the house,” Sam explains, looking outside the window, squinting his eyes to protect them from the sun.      “What stuff?” Dean questions, making sure it’s not just some lame excuse.      Sam looks aside and hesitates for a moment, but then tells him anyway. “I want to call some friends of Dad,” he admits.

     He feels Dean’s piercing gaze, but doesn’t look up. It’s only a matter of seconds before Dean pops the first question.      “Why?” Dean asks sternly.      “Why?! I don’t know about you, Dean, but I wanna find him,” Sam returns defensive.      Dean grips the wheel a little tighter; as if he doesn’t want to find Dad. Seriously? “So do I, but I don’t think it’s wise to start calling random hunters to ask where he is, Sam.”      “I won’t call ‘random’ hunters. I’ll call a few old friends, and why the hell not?” his brother questions.      “Because Dad doesn’t want to be found,” the oldest of the two claims.      “How could you possibly know that, Dean?! Seriously, do you have some kind of telepathic connection with the guy or what?” Sam reacts.      “Hey, you’re the psychic one, not me,” Dean counters. “If Dad wants us involved in his hunt, he will contact us one way or the other. You know that.”      “No, I don’t! I haven’t heard a word from him since I left for Stanford. I don’t understand the blind faith you have in the man,” the younger brother argues.      “You were the one who fucking left, Sam. And let me tell you somethin’,” Dean pauses to enforce his words. “I trust him because he’s a damn good hunter.”      “He’s human! He makes mistakes just like anyone else, only this time you won’t be around to back him up. It’s not some monster that he’s hunting, this is the monster! The one that killed Mom, that killed Jess!” Sam adds up.      “You think I don’t realize that?” The car stops at a traffic light and Dean turns to him, his piercing green eyes judging his brother, the same way John so often has. “Of course I’d rather be backing him up right now, but he decided to do this alone and I accept that.”      “Why the hell, though? Just because he says so?” Sam huffs, shaking his head disappointed.      “Hell yes, because he says so!” his brother snaps. “He leads this mission, and we stick to the orders he gives us. It’s about fucking time you show him the respect he deserves.”      “He has to earn that first,” the younger Winchester responds.      “He earned that a long time ago. Every time he protected you, protected us. Everything that we were taught, all the skills that we’ve learned. You were so caught up in the illusion that school was gonna work out, that when he objected because he didn’t want you to be on your own, you cut all ties,” Dean barks at him as he accelerates faster than necessary. “Why the hell do you want to find him so bad if you hate his guts, huh?”      “I don’t hate his guts,” Sam says, his voice a lot less hostile than a moment ago.

     Dean takes his eyes off the road again and glances at the passenger, noticing the defeated expression on Sammy’s face. Annoyed with himself he looks ahead again, shutting his eyes for a second when a pang of guilt distinguishes the anger in a matter of seconds. He meant to give his little brother a reality check, but all he did was hurt him.      “Sam, I get you want answers. But calling his friends isn’t the way to do it. We just gotta be patient.”

     His brother's jaw clenches and he looks away, not denying nor confirming that Dean is right and that he himself will listen. It doesn’t matter anyway; there’s no way he can turn his brother’s mind around. And Dean claims Sam is the one who is like their old man? Just now he was sure to sit next to a younger version of Dad. 

     He can't agree with the reasoning behind Dean’s actions, though. His older brother dragged him out of school to find Dad and now that it’s coming down to that, he doesn’t want to go out on a search. Sam on the other hand, he has to find him. Not only does he have some unresolved issues with his father, John is also the only hunter who has been tracking the thing that ruined their lives. He is the key to finding answers. It’s all he can think of; hunting down the bastard that killed Mom and Jessica. 

     Without saying another word, Dean drives his Impala to their motel, convinced he made his point, even though he hurt his brother’s feelings to get the message across. But Sam isn’t going to let go, neither will he trade places with Dean on their jobs. During his hours of watching the Shire family, he’s gonna make those calls and he is going to find their father. Whether Dean likes it, or not.

Thank you for reading. I appreciate every single one of you, but if you do want to give me some extra love, you are free to like or reblog my work, shoot me a message or buy me coffee (Link to Kofi in bio at the top of the page).    

Read chapter nine here

[jiracheer]

!!! My very first request!!! 🥺 I was so happy to see this in my inbox!! Sorry these are a bit long, but I hope you enjoy nevertheless anon!! 💕💕 pls forgive any grammar mistakes! im p sure i wrote this around 2 AM LMAO

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{ Haikyuu boys taking you out on your first date HCs }

ASAHI AZUMANE

we all know he's rlly nervous about y'alls first date

he probably asks the boys for help about places to go, and how to ask you out!!

Suga, Daichi, Yachi, Kiyoko, Ennoshita, and Yams are super helpful!! They give him a lot of helpful tips, and even help him figure out a way to ask you out in the most perfect way possible!

Tsukki, Noya, Tanaka, Kags, and Hinta were little to no help. Their Ideas were... Good, but they weren't what he was looking for. He appreciates their help in the end 

you both tend to walk home together. It really depends though! Sometimes you're down to wait until practice is over, and sometimes you just wanna go home and do your own thing

so on one of the walks home, he stops you halfway and asks you if you wanted to go roller skating date with him over the weekend

his face is so red

and so is yours because you never would've thought he'd ask you out on a date

he thinks you're about to reject him because you're just standing there in silence

"Y-You don't- We don't have to go-"

"No! Wait! I do wanna go out with you!"

the rest of the walk home is really awkward, but there's a sweet smile on y'alls faces

when the day finally comes, Asahi picks you up from your house and you're 🥺

he's wearing a cute pair of jeans with a wooly sweater over a white button up, and converse

and you're like,,, omg, did i underdress?? i need to look as cute as that??? and you look like you're about to go back inside and change, but he stops you halfway and tells you that you look cute

last minute he pulls out a handful of flowers, and you're about to cry because he's so damn cute, but then he apologizes bc lowkey they're kinda crushed

but its okay

you put them inside and y'all start leaving

y'all chat about whatever and you walk close to him, and you hold onto his arm and lean against him

when it comes to the skating part? y'all are dying.

you both cling to the walls until you finally find the confidence to skate, and you're FERAL. You're zooming around, and Asahi is just watching you with big eyes and a blush

you try your best to pull him off the wall, and skate with you, and he was terrified! man almost peed his pants! but eventually you peel him off and he's SHAKING

this tall beefy man that could snap you in half, is leaning on you and holding onto you for dear life, and you're the only thing between him and the floor

it takes him a hot minute before he's finally able to stand without busting his ass, or shaking, so you take his hand and y'all are just vibing

when the couple song comes on? He's heading towards the exit and you tug him BACK into the rink, and you're like :) "let's skate!!"

he almost passes out

he never would've thought you'd want to skate with him during a couple turn 🥺

he holds your hand real tight, and you interlace your fingers with him. and it's just really nice

Asahi leans against you again but it's not as heavy, it's a good weight that you wanna feel all night long

y'all decide to split a pizza and an icee, and you're just hanging out at your table and you're just sitting close and 🥺🥺🥺

his face is close to yours when you talk, and you're hugging his arm and you just lay your head on his shoulder

im so fuckin soft

eventually, you get really tired and it's time to go home

Asahi takes you home and nervously takes your hand before you go in, and he kisses your knuckles and wishes you goodnight

the second you're inside? you're dying

Asahi is also dying

IWAIZUMI HAJIME

you and Iwa are probably already pretty close, and you both knew how you felt, but neither one of you knew how to approach the situation

bc no cap?

Iwa was lowkey waiting for YOU to say something

while you were waiting for IWA to say something

and the whole team is sick and tired of it. Especially Oikawa

He just wants to see his two favorite people get together!!!

So he urged Iwa to say something after one of their matches

and thats when you both decide to finally make plans for a date, and you both suggested going bowling

and y'all just kinda looked at each other

and laughed really fuckin hard

You both decide to just meet up there since it would be easier for the both of you

he looks rlly cute in his usual attire of just a good pair of jeans, hoodie, and a jacket above it

and you're like. eyein that jacket. you want it by the end of the night

so you two go in, get your shoes, and start heading down to the lanes

on god, you're nervous. you're scared of your fingers getting stuck in the balls

you tell Iwa and he laughs at you, telling you that it won't happen if you're careful

you kinda eye him like uhmmm if you say so????

but you're still careful

y'all decide to name each other

Iwa is a gentleman, so he makes your nickname 'Sunshine :)'

sadly tho, you decide to be a lil shit, and his nickname is 'Oikawa's whore'

he punches your arm and you're in tears from how hard you're laughing

y'all decide to place a bet at the start since you wanted to add some spice to the date

you make a bet that if iwa wins, you're paying for the food, and if you win, he pays for the food

eventually you start playing and he's way ahead of you, and you're hitting his back jealous that he's winning

iwa is laughing in your face and he reaches for another ball. you have a feeling that this is gonna be the ball that makes you lose

you just watch in horror as he lifts the ball

he's preparing to throw it...

and!

he's sent forward, collapsing onto the ground with a double heavy thud

you blink.

and then you LAUGH REALLY FUCKIN HARD

Karma is a bitch! Iwa's fingers got stuck in the ball, and he's just laying there dumbfounded, and you're laughing

you have to help him up eventually, and you're trying so hard not to cry/shout in laughter. He's all red, but you help his fingers out and y'all sit down

you look over his hand and you're making sure his fingers aren't broken or anything

iwa just watches your tiny lil hand in his, and his heart is racing SO FAST

it isn't until you kiss his fingertips and tell him that you're gonna go get ice, that this man explodes

he takes your wrist and pulls you down so he can kiss your nose and he thanks you with a tiny mumble

you lowkey die on the spot and stagger away to get his ice, and when you come back there's a bit more pep in your step

you come back and his fingers seem okay, so you just decide maybe it's a good time to start going back home

the walk back is full of laughter and him eventually throwing an arm around your shoulder

you lean into his side and you hold his hand

when he drops you off the two of you just hang out in your porch

and he eventually leans down to kiss you 🥺 and he whispers good night against your lips

he waves you farewell, and you do too

and you know damn well you wanna go on another date with this man

TENDOU SATORI

on god I struggled to think of a date idea for Tendou

bc I was given SOOOOO MANY GOOD DATE IDEAS FOR THIS FUCKER

Tendou decided to ask you out of the blue if you wanted to go to the zoo with him

you were kinda shocked to see that Tendou wanted to go somewhere with YOU of all people

because no cap, you thought u were pretty Lame, and not cool enough to hang out with him, but. 😳 um. you said yes! let's go to the zoo!!!

but you really didn't know if it was a date or not, because he didn't say it, but in your head its a date

you're a lil nervous about going to the zoo with him because you haven't hung around with him one on one

Leon, Semi, and even Toshi, were always with y'all when you two would hang out

so having alone time with him is KINDAAAA intimidating

but when he pulls up to your house so excited to take you out 🥺 all of your anxieties are GONE!!!!!

he does not HESITATE to take your hand. He holds your tiny lil hand in his much bigger one, and he just chats about whatever comes to mind

when y'all are on the train, he sits across from you just so he can watch you stare out the window and admire you AND the view outside

he chose a pretty good day to take you out. the sun was bright and warm, and you were wearing the cutest dress so he knew today was going to be pretty good

the second you get to the zoo he makes sure to buy tickets to ride the train around the zoo, and even access to the carousel

you're about to WWE bodyslam him to the ground for buying you your ticket!! like motherfucker I have the money!!!!!!

you're so close to beating the shit out of him, but he slips the access bracelet around your wrist and slips his fingers through yours and he's like

🥰🥰🥰🥰!!!

anger? gone.

serotonin? here.

your love for him? massive.

hotel? trivago.

you decide to get a map of the zoo so you two know where you're going, and you end up navigating the both of you around

Tendou is going feral over all the animals, and he tugs on you gently to point at whatever animal is doing something he finds exciting

He even goes as far as to pick you up if you can't see a certain animal because they're positioned somewhere high

when it comes to finally going on the small ass train, y'alls legs are basically twisted with eachother and your hip is pressed against his in such an uncomfortable position

its a tight fit!!! im pretty sure your leg is falling asleep

but you can't help but giggle and laugh when Tendou leans over you to see the animals, cheek pressed against yours since you turned your head to look too

ugh. fucker takes this chance to kiss your cheek and nose it, and when you go all red he laughs at you

when you go see the penguins he holds you really close to his side, and hugs you from behind to keep you warm

but also so he can see the penguins better. the penguin house was lowkey full

you have to hold him back from touching most animals that seemed close enough to be touched

y'all get a pretzel and split that shit, but then you're both screaming when a bird swoops down to steal it right from your hands

just as you're about to get on the carousel, there's a distant rumble of thunder and you both stop like ????? brother what??? the sun was OUT

the zoo announces that they would be closing soon due to the rain, and they urge the members to start heading to their cars or whatever other method of transportation

you just look at Tendou like 👁_____👁 wut da hell we gon do...... now?

Tendou looks back at you like queen don't ask me. i didnt think we'd get this far on god

you both decide to just start leaving so you don't get caught in the rain

but wow, what do you know, it starts raining as you walk to the train station

and you BOOK IT

you're screeching as the rain just hits you at full force, and you're holding onto Tendou's arm for dear life, and he's laughing so hard and just stops

you're like ??? IT'S RAINING???? WE GOTTA BLAST BITCH

but listen. This dude is vibing now. He just had such a good day with you, and the rain feels so nice on his hot skin, and he's never felt so much at once

and you kinda just stop and admire him for a bit. So you stand under the rain with him before it gets to be too much, and you take his hand gently and start walking to the station

y'all just hang under the tin roof the station provides

you're both soaked, but sit close to one another to share heat bc y'all kinda stupid for tryin to act out a hallmark movie scene

but hey

at least y'all had fun, right?

[sserpente]

A/N: Request from anon. I got these a while back and just had to write them at some point. James getting trapped in a cave with RC? Um, yes please. Here’s what I came up with! Enjoy, my lovelies! ;-)

Words: 2524 Warnings: smut

Hatred was a strong word. You hated hypocrisy and ignorance, intolerance too. But you probably hated nothing and no one more than James Conrad. You didn’t quite know what it was about him that you despised so much. Was it how honourable, righteous and brave he was, the fact he was just a little too perfect? Honestly—a former soldier, a handsome British decommissioned Captain… every woman would be envied if she shared a bed with him at night. But not you! Oh no… not you. You hated this man with a passion, if anything because you knew a man like him—so hunky and decent—would never date someone like you.

You had a past. A criminal past… multiple thefts had turned into assaults, illegal trading of stolen artefacts had resolved in getting involved with the Russian Mafia. The government had decided to give you another chance, in other words, send you on a pointless mission with James Conrad and a few other hopeless souls to do research for a couple of mad scientists instead of throwing you in prison. You were hardly a trustworthy and innocent young woman—something James made sure to remind you of whenever you spoke up and suggested different strategies.

Shock waves of pure electricity rippled through you whenever he impaled you with his stern blue gaze, an effect you hated he had on you. You knew you had screwed up, you knew you had done bad things. You knew you regularly imagined him bending you over his lap and spanking your backside until it was bright red whenever he looked at you like that… almost as if he was trying to read your thoughts. You sincerely hoped he couldn’t.

“If we hurry up, we can reach the top of the mountain by sunset,” he just explained, drawing a map into the sand with a dry branch. “We climb the front and set up camp near the forest. Someone will guard the fire, we don’t know what wild animals lurk in the shadows.”

You frowned at the dirt to your feet, a disgusted expression on your face. “How are we supposed to climb? Did you happen to have brought professional gear with you? All we have is a bit of rope.”

“One could have thought breaking into museums to steal paintings and jewellery gave you a bit of experience in that area.” James shot back, staring daggers at you. Swallowing thickly, you turned away again. Arsehole.

“Then let’s go. I’m hungry.” His name was Slivko. A very young man and a soldier—way too immature and childish for you but at least, he did not treat you like vermin.

James nodded, ignoring his unnecessary comment. Much more important than food was to reach the summit without falling to your deaths—and doing so before the sun would set. Standing up, he brushed the sand off his knees and shouldered his gun. You all followed suit, hoping for the best.

It took you a rough twenty minutes to reach said mountain. Twenty, silent minutes you spent attempting to kill James with but a single glare… if he noticed, he did not show.

“I say we split up. Slivko, take some of this rope and make sure you don’t slip.” James turned to you. “You stay with me.”

You smiled bitterly. “Aw… and there I was already building a raft to escape.”

Yet, he replied nothing when he approached you and tied the rope around your hips. You shivered involuntarily when his fingers brushed against your body ever so slightly. The other end, he tied around his own hips so you could both fall to your deaths. You resisted the urge to roll your eyes.

“Let’s go.”

Slivko and his team went first, spreading out across the vertical surface of the rocky mountain. There were a few roots and thinner tree stubs to hold onto but mostly, it was solid stone you were dealing with. You could already feel the blisters and bruises you would be treating tonight.

James was right. You did have experience with climbing. You had once climbed the Louvre and avoided the security guards, not harming a fly. Still, there was a massive difference between a modern building and a crumbling mountain.

Reluctantly, you began to heave yourself up next to James, watching his every move before making your own. Any step could be your last the higher you climbed—especially on a deserted island. You couldn’t exactly say you were afraid of heights but when you looked down to where you had started, you felt a little sick. Usually, you climbed with professional gear. Security measures that would prevent you from dying in case you slipped and fell. Now, there was nothing.

The rocks were getting wobblier with every single metre. Little bits and pieces rained down on you both, coming from where Slivko and the other soldiers were climbing. A crunchy sound echoed through the air, earning him a strict “Watch it!” from James. Perhaps it was too late for that—for when you looked up with a shocked expression, the heavy rock, about twice as big as you, was already shaking. You all halted, holding your breaths. Then, the rock fell, causing an ear-piercing rock fall.

“Hold on tight!” You heard James screaming. Hold on tight? How? Your right hand slipped, leaving you holding on to the stone wall with your left hand only as one of the rocks as big as your head dashed past you. You were about to steady yourself when it was James who let go. No… he didn’t let go. The rocks he had been holding on to crumbled from the impact, ripping him into the depth beneath you. The rope between you stretched, the force of his body weight pulling you down with him and you were falling.

Panicking, you closed your eyes. This was not how you had wanted to die. Would you feel the collision with the ground? You might not be a decent person but you still had things to live for! You didn’t want to die, you didn’t want to… all of a sudden, all air was knocked from your lungs, causing you to gasp loudly. The rope cut into your skin, burning horribly. When you finally dared to open your eyes again, you were dangling from a cliff. Conrad was above you, his face distorted from exhaustion. He must have landed on the ledge!

“Climb the rope, (Y/N)!” He bellowed, his voice dripping with pain. He did not need to tell you twice. Quickly, you pulled yourself up until James could wrap his arms around your shoulders. Your whole body was shaking when you curled up on the dirty ground, adrenaline still cursing through your veins. Never before had you faced the Grim Reaper eye to eye.

“The… others?” You managed to choke out. James was still panting. He peeked over the edge, his expression darkening. He didn’t need to tell you what he saw. There must have been corpses at the bottom of the mountain.

“I can’t see them all. They might have survived.”

“So contact them.” You insisted, looking around yourself. The ledge you were sitting on formed the entrance to a dark cave. It appeared uninhabited and might just pose as a shelter for the night.

But James was already fondling his radio. “My bloody radio is broken, (Y/N).”

“So what the hell do we do? We need to get out of here.”

James turned, his blue gaze deadly as it bore into yours. Enraged, he pointed at the sun. “Do you see this? It will be dark any moment now. Attempting to climb now would be suicide. We try again tomorrow and see if we can find the other survivors.” He paused, waiting for you to react. When you only nodded, he went on. “Stay here. I will explore the cave, see if it’s safe.”

“Absolutely not. If you get shredded to pieces by a wolf or a bear, I’ll be on my own! And I really don’t want to eat your body parts to survive.”

Conrad only shook his head, clearly repulsed by the idea. “Stay where you are, (Y/N).”

Surprising yourself though, you actually stayed put, waiting for him to return and spending the time checking your body for any injuries. There was a huge, wet blood stain on your stomach. When you lifted your shirt you found a cut right above your navel. Nothing too deep, you figured. It stung a little but with the disinfection spray in your backpack and a band aid you should be fine.

James returned to you just when the sun began to set. “It seems fine to me. There are no traces of animals living in here.” He paused. “You’re bleeding.” And for the first time since you had first met, he did not sound condescending. James seemed to be downright concerned for you, if anything because you were still trembling. In the end, you were a woman alone in the wilderness and even though you were hardly helpless, in this very moment you needed him.

“It’s nothing. I’ll patch myself up.”

“I can help you. Go inside and lie down.” You swallowed. There was no point in refusing now, was there? So you obliged, taking off your shirt to let it dry, leaving you in your sports bra only. Behind you, James hissed.

“Here. Take my jacket and lie down. And give me your backpack.”

Sighing, you did as you were told, watching him intensely as he tended to your wound to ignore the pain. But once he was done, you were shaking even more. For a brief moment you wished his fingers would linger on your naked skin just for a bit longer.

“Sleep a little. I’m gonna try and repair the radio.” James’ hand brushed against your arm so gently and reassuringly he left you behind completely astounded. Wow. Just for a second you could, almost, believe that you didn’t quite hate him after all—and that he didn’t hate you either. Only then was it he seemed to realise his “mistake”. He withdrew as if he had burned himself, hurrying away.

You awoke around an hour later, ripped from sleep cruelly by an animalistic moan. Your eyes narrowed. Thinking at first the cave might be inhabited by animals after all, you flinched and listened again closely. Oh no, it was speaking. Cursing, to be precise. You rolled your eyes as you got up to join James only a few metres away from where you had rested, stepping closer quietly. Apparently, he was still trying to repair that radio. But…

“Fuck… ah…” He was panting. Holding your breath, you inched even closer to him, watching the muscles on his back flex with every movement. It was only then you realised what he was doing. This man had the audacity to masturbate in this godforsaken situation! Your jaw dropped. You could not see him but it was obvious enough now what was happening.

Your curiosity you could understand, not however, that you desperately wished to join him. You hated James for your very own reasons but that did not mean you had to find him repulsive, right? Quite on the contrary… he was incredibly hot. What would he look like, you wondered? How… long and thick would he be and Gods, what would it look like when he spurted his cum into his own fist?

“Fuck…” You heard him again. You bit your lower lip. “(Y/N)…” Yes… wait, what?! Had he just said your name?! Was he masturbating… to you? Your eyes widened when you remembered his flustered reaction when you took off your shirt to let the blood dry, wearing no more than your sports bra and now his jacket too to keep warm.

You couldn’t watch him finish… not without your help. A malicious smirk spread on your lips when you approached him, placing one of your hands on his back while the other sneaked around his waist to grab his hard cock, simply pushing his own hand away.

James tensed. You could tell he was glaring down at your fist grasping his aroused rut, feeling his thick shaft pulsing beneath your touch. Suppressing a moan, you said nothing as you began to jerk him off, finding just the right pace to drive him crazy soon enough.

“You’re awake…” He choked out, his chest heaving.

“You called me. You could have just asked, you know.” You teased him, grinning mischievously behind his back. You could practically feel him rolling his eyes only to moan the fraction of a second later, causing you to giggle at him.

Losing all of his self-control, his composure fell off of him like a heavy coat as he began to groan wildly and thrust into your fist for more friction. And oh sweet Gods, witnessing and feeling him cum felt even more enticing than you could have possibly imagined. James’ cock twitched in your hand, shooting his seed all over your fingers and onto the rock wall in front of you both. The urge to draw away and lick your digits clean was strong, yet you helped him ride out his orgasm, listening to his animalistic growls until he had calmed enough to turn around slowly, his member beginning to soften again.

For usually, his blue gaze was judging and condescending, it was now lustful and demanding. Like a predator, James towered above you, ready to devour you like prey. You knew there was a difference between love and lust and you certainly didn’t expect anything to change between you now… well, nothing but hot and dirty sex, maybe—the true definition of a quick and good hate fuck.

You were already half naked and you were more than ready to rip those trousers off your body and have him take you so thoroughly you would be unable to walk tomorrow.

“We both know this is a bad idea.” He purred darkly then, inching so close you could feel his warm breath on your lips. He was right, of course. You were not on the pill and first aid kits usually didn’t come with a stash of condoms.

“You could just… return the favour, you know.” Your voice was shaking. For Fuck’s sake, why was your voice shaking? Your arousal was pooling between your legs, robbing you of your senses. James was about to reply, a cheeky smile forming on his lips when suddenly, the radio began to rustle.

“Captain Conrad, Captain Conrad, please respond, Captain Conrad!”

Just like that, the heated moment was gone. Pulling his trousers back up again, James’ eyes widened as he hurried over to the little device and yelled clear and stern orders into it—you would meet the rest of the team, what was left of it, tomorrow, near the summit of the mountain, to finish this suicidal expedition and finally go home. Yet when his blue eyes locked with yours again, there was a carnal longing and desire sparkling in them; a silent promise that he was not quite done with you yet.

A/N: Part II coming soon! ;-)

If you enjoyed this story, I’d be flattered if you supported me on KoFi! kofi.com/sserpente (or hit the “Support me” button on my blog) ♥

[obscure-imagines]

-it would start with catching both of their eyes

-the entire fam would be like “oh no, another thing for these two to fight about.”

-they’d try to find ways to get you to say which one of them you prefer

-finally confiding in Tony that you’re honestly just into both of them 

-she sits them down and is like “you both have to stop acting like idiots. so I did some recon, and she’s honestly just into both of you the same way.” “well now what?” “there’s this amazing thing called polyamory guys, look it up.”

-they look into it

-and they realize they could both be dating you and it doesn't make them gay or in anyway have to even actually like each other

-you’re shocked when the both of them ask you to meet at Pop’s together

-you sit down across from them and they explain that they looked into polyamory and are willing to give both of them dating you a try if you’re up for it

-creating a group chat

-they both kinda have alpha personalities

-and this would clash at the start but they’d come up with ways to deal with it

-starting out with movie dates, Sweetpea immediately asserts his dominance by putting his arm over your shoulders while Reggie glares at him but settles with his hand going to your upper thigh, then Sweetpea glares at him because thats a good idea

-they both want to walk you to school

-Sweetpea is taller so he calls dibs on arm over your shoulders while Reggie holds your hand, or puts his hand in your back pocket, (wonder where he learned that from)

-people give you odd looks from the first day this happen

-”so what’s going on with Sweetpea and Reggie?” Veronica asks, Betty leaning closer because she wants to know too. when you explain it they’re both like “this is not going to last. Y/N, you know that, they hate each other.”

-your first date at your place and its kinda awkward at the start because having two massive guys walking around your kitchen is just kinda odd

-sitting on the couch to watch a movie

-these guys are huge so good luck trying to get comfortable on that couch

-moving to your bed because the couch has no space

-all of you lying on your backs until Sweetpea is like screw this, and pulls you over so you’re cradled against his chest, Reggie spoons you

-”so why do you guys hate each other so much?”

-you fall asleep first and they both are just kinda there. so they start whispering and talking. they realize they have more in common than they thought, plus if they want this whole thing to work they have to start being nicer to each other

-they agree to start working out together

-waking up cuddled between these gorgeous men

-at school you usually have class with at least one of them, and in classes with both each sit on either side of you

-they are fiercely protective of you

-like no one can fuck with you

-you always have one on either side of you

-you get cold and Sweetpea offers his leather while Reggie offers his letterman jacket

-and these guys are big so their jackets are big

-the other serpents kinda dont know what to do at first. like, they’ll accept you, but does this mean they suddenly have to warm up to Reggie?

-getting along really well with the Serpents because you make Sweetpea super happy and he’s such a sweet little muffin

-they’re both super cocky

-which is great

-”give me a kiss sugar.”

-the best fucking pet names. 

-they both like to call you Princess

-Reggie is more of a “doll face” kinda guy

-Sweetpea likes “pretty girl.”

-can you imagine partying with these guys?

-that would be so hot, like, one on either side and they can never keep their hands to themselves so they’re all over you

-stealing their clothes

-tracing Sweetpea’s tattoo makes Reggie want to get a tattoo of some kind

-i mean, they try to keep it to a minimum, but sometimes they end up looking at each other when they’re with you and it spurs them on, like a good kind of competition on who can make you feel the best

-they’re also super horny

-they like marks. im sorry if you dont. this is just a thing with them

-and they’re rough

-plus, Sweetpea has those rings so get fucking ready doll

-the first time it happens is kinda odd but they make up for it the next morning, its all about rhythm and these boys realize they have a knack for it 

-honestly its all just hanging out

-you and Sweetpea go to Reggie’s sports games and cheer him on from the sidelines

-group hugs when Reggie wins

-running onto the field and Reggie spins you around, Sweetpea stands there and when Reggie sets you down they bro hug

-they both just kinda like lifting you up all the time

-Sweetpea is king of throwing you over his shoulder

-Reggie’s more of a piggy back guy

-sometimes they try to coordinate things

-like cooking for you, but this never ends well. they’re huge fans of take out

-they actually are okay when you fall asleep first and they just talk about stuff

-sometimes pretending to be asleep to hear what they’re talking about

-usually its kinda dumb stuff but mostly its about you

-taking them both shopping. Sweetpea hates it with a burning passion but Reggie is a fashion icon so he helps you choose stuff

-well, Sweetpea helps in Victoria’s secret

-they agree on silk and lace

-they also agree on loving to tear your clothes off

-when you’re having a rough day, you have two adorable big puppy boys to cuddle you and make you feel better

-they also like attention

-studying together is you studying and both of them just playing with your hair and groaning about not wanting to study

-they always want to crash girls night but you always evade them

-the fact that this dynamic actually works out shocks everyone, Betty and Veronica especially want to know what it’s like having both Sweetpea and Reggie

-its actually just so loving once everything is settled though

-massive group hugs and cuddles

-once they’re comfortable with each other of course

-dragging them both around at carnivals

-its actually so funny because Sweetpea is usually pretty stone cold and Reggie can be kind of distant and then between these two huge asshole looking dudes is just you, and you’re a little bundle of sunshine in compairison

-ultimate lazy cuddle days with these babies who just need cuddles and head massages

-i’ve already said it but they are just so protective of you

-and Sweetpea has the whole gang behind him

-Reggie has the football team

-so you are protected AF

-sometimes they’ll fight over who gets to do things. arm wrestle for who gets to drive you to school one morning. a shoot out on the basketball court to see who gets to dance with you first at prom

-yeah everyone would know you’re taken

-like no one flirts with you because everyone just knows

-you know what. i am here for this okay?

**** gif credit @bellblake

[mona-stay]

We’re Not All Bad - Sweet Pea

Prompt - after finding out Reggie cheated on you with Josie you leave a party meeting a handsome South side serpent A/n this kind of came from a dream the start and end was a dream the middle kind of just happened when I stared writing hope you all enjoy :) Warnings - anguish, cheating, swearing under age drinking and drug use Pairing - Sweet Pea x reader

Story It was the party nick st Claire was throwing, everyone expect for Betty was having a good time especially when nick started passing round straws of jj. You was already really drunk and the added drugs didn't help. Dancing with Veronica it had been one of the best nights you had in ages, but quickly became one of the worst. You went to find your boyfriend Reggie Mantle not seeing him on the couch where he was before. You walked out of the living room and heard his voice come from the bedroom. When you open the door your saw Reggie sleeping with Josie. Your ran out of the hotel room crying wanting to be anywhere but here and to get the image of them out of your head. You had cried and ran the far you didn't really know where you was, somewhere on the south side was about all you knew. You also didn't realise how drunk you was until the fresh air hit you, sitting down on a bench before you fell , you tried to calm down and sober up.

A wolf whistle made you look up to see a tall dark haired boy in a leather jacket walking towards you. "save the whistles and comments I'm not in the mood for dickheads" you say looking back at the ground, tears filling your eyes again at the thought of Reggie.

The boy sat next to you "good job I'm not a dickhead then" he said mimicking the nasty way you had said it. You turn and look at him annoyed, the alcohol fuelling your anger. "look I've had a bad night who are you and what do you want" you snap hoping he'd leave you alone on the bench to cry in peace.

"my name is sweet pea but everyone calls me sweets or pea, and I live round here I was going home until I saw a beautiful girl crying" he said giving you a kind smile. "oh scary gang name" you mocked at him, "don't let the name fool you, I'm not always sweet" he laughed. You roll your eyes standing up to leave, sweet pea stood up following you. you turned round almost falling, "why are you following me" you scream at him. "I'm not following you princess, I'm going home, its not my fault I live the same way your walking" he says. you wasn't listening to him, you felt dizzy since standing and now you had spots in your vision. Blinking you try a few deep breaths, although you wasn't moving you could feel you body swaying. the last thing you remember was saying "I don't feel to good" and seeing sweet pea run to you.

Sweet saw you swaying and ran forward, being part of south side he'd seen people on jingle jangle before and knew she was about to collapse. he managed to catch you before you hit the ground picking you up bridle style thinking what should he do. 

You woke in a room and a bed you'd never seen before. your head was hurting thanks to the drinks from the party but right now you need to work out where you was and how you got here. getting out the bed you see your shoes on the floor, you see your still fully dressed you get you heels putting them on before working the courage to walk out the room.

On the other side for the door you see sweet sat watching telly. "hello princess, how was the beauty sleep" he greats you with a smile. "What happened? how did I get here? where is here?" you demand. sweets stood giving a chuckle "calm down" he said going into the room you had just left. "your at my house, you passed out in the middle of the street, drunk and upset" he shouted from the room. he came out holding a pair of thick sweat pants and a tee-shirt. "I didn't know where you lived princess, and I wasn't leaving you in the street all night so I brought you here thinking you could safely sleep off the alcohol" he finished.

"oh" you said not knowing what to say, feeling embarrassed sweets handed you the clothes, "you must be cold, you can put these on if you want." he told you. Taking the clothes from him, you didn't notice how cold you really was until sweet pea said it. after putting sweets clothes on you can back out the bathroom, "thanks" you mumble to him. Sweet Pea stood up pointing for you sit "its still late so you can stay here I'll take you home in the morning" he said, "why what time is it how long have i been asleep" you say holding your head the pain coming back. "not long 3 hours tops its only 4am" he said walking into the kitchen quickly returning with water and a painkiller. "here for your head" he said. you sat for the next 20 minuets in silence, fiddling with the hem of the top you was wearing as sweets watched a movie playing on the telly, looking at you every now and then. "so you going to tell me why you was so upset last night" he asked, you felt your heart break as you remembered what Reggie had done. "nothing" you said trying not to let yourself cry.

"well whoever he is, he's stupid letting you go" sweets said without looking away from the telly. your turned to face him "excuse me what" you say. Pea smirks at you "well it has to be a boy, to make a girl like you cry, and I'm guessing he's one of those footballers" he said rolling his eyes at the last part. you looked at him sad "okay your right his name is Reggie was have been dating for six months and I found his sleeping with some other girl" you say as you try but fail to stop your voice braking "and yes he's a bulldog" you finish.

sweet turns to face you, "that's the problem princess, he's a dog! You could do better" he said flirty. "what, with a snake like you, you mean" you laughed meaning it as a joke "and stop calling me princess" you add. "Serpent" he corrected you "but yes a serpent is better then a dog we live by loyalty, where as your bulldogs just look for the next best thing, something bigger, better. They can be holding a diamond and give it up for cheap gold all because its shiny and new" he said gently touching your hand "and I'm calling you princess because you haven't told me your name" he said back making you blush,  "my name is y/n". For the next 5 hours you both laughed and talked getting alone like you had been friends for years.

it was 10am and the hours flew with sweet pea, sweets offered you a ride home you felt a bit nervous at first getting on his bike but soon loved it once he started going. As you got to the top of your road you saw Reggie's car outside your house. Sweets pulled over at the top of the road when he felt you grab him tighter, as you saw you ex boyfriend knocking on your door. you didn't realize how tight your grip on sweet pea was until he turned to you "hey y/n its okay we can get out of here if you don't want to see him" he says, you nod yes loosening your grip a little as he started the bike up again.

you wasn't sure where he was taking you but it was back on the south side. you pulled up back other motorbikes and a few cars. "where are we?" you asked nervous. sweet smiled "the quarry, see my friends I want to show you we're not all bad! or at least not in the way most of the north siders think we are" he smirked helping you get off.

he walked over to his friends a massive smile on his face, you noticed how it made you smile too, he then introduced you to a few people "y/n this is Topaz, Fangs, Fogarty and the girl over their is Lesley" he told you. You and Toni became friends fast both having a mutual friend in Jughead, you sat at the quarry with them all day enjoying the sun watching Sweet Pea and the other boys play fight, race bikes and just genuinely having fun. you laughed and joked with the girls joining in with some of the boys games and fights.

at one point you found yourself stirring at SP, biting your lip admiring hot and sexy he looked. how his dark eyes sparkled in the light or how full and soft his lips looked, you found yourself bushing when he looked at you giving you a cheek wink. finally you had butterflies when he came over to you and the other serpent's you was sat with and put his arm around your shoulder and stayed like that as you all chatted about randomness.

Sweet and the boys left to get some food, Toni and another two girls all looked at you, "so you and sweets how long has that been going on for" one of them asked making you go a bright shade of red. "no! no no the is no me and sweet pea" you tell them. "well he likes you, he’s never this happy" Toni says smiling, "okay well if not together how did you meet, why have we never seen you before" a different girl asked. "well we only met last night" you say a little embarrassed "I was drunk and couldn't stand never mind walk home so he" you didn't finish as you heard sweets voice "she was literally falling for me the second she saw me" he joked looking at his friends, only saying it to keep his reputation. "falling in laughter at you" you tease back but the look in both your eyes told everyone there the was something between you and the serpent, even if nether of you saw it yourselves yet.

after it started to get dark sweet pea took you home, you both stood on your doorstep neither of you wanting to part ways from each other yet. "thank you" you said, he frowned his brows "what for?" he asked back. "everything, looking after me last night ,taking me out today it's been amazing and your friends are not the monsters the papers say" you laugh sweet looking smug. "I told you we're not all bad" he says as you kiss him. you didn't know where the kiss came from but you knew if you didn't do it, you'd would regret it later.

sweets kissed you back wrapping his arm around you bringing you closer, when you stopped "well that's something I can get used to" he said kissing you again. As he finally left you arranged to meet him the next day, going to bed daydreaming of sweet pea, feeling happier then anytime you had during your relationship with Reggie.

You and sweets spent the whole Sunday and everyday for the next week together, mainly chilling in his trailer watching movies or hanging with the serpent's, during the school break. On the last day before you both went back to different schools, sweets got up the courage to tell you he liked you and asked if you wanted to ditch your dog for snake. you liked sweet pea and told him you would, spending the rest of the night kissing and cuddling up.

Monday morning after the holidays finished, sweets dropped you off at school. "cant you transfer to south side" he asked with puppy dog eyes. Hearing Jodie's voice "I wish I could" you smile at sweets kissing him. the day had been boring Kevin and veronica constantly asking where you had been during the half term break, you told them you'd met a guy being chilling with his friends, and he's amazing before changing the subject to what they did, so they didn't ask who your new friend was. 

Josie came in the common room her eyes went wide when she saw you. "y/n look I'm sorry I don't know what made me do it the Al..." she stopped talking as you stood up holding put your hand for her to shut up. "don't insult me and blame the drink we both know the was flirting with you and Reggie before the party" you tell her. Josie looked down feeling ashamed "but anyway you can keep him I've found someone better then him, someone who knows the meaning of loyalty" you tell them walking out the room.

During last lesson sweet pea texted you saying he'd finished school early did you want him to pick you up when you was finished. You quickly replied yes then sent the next dew minutes texting back and forth with him, a cheeky smile on you face as you did. You felt a tap on your shoulder turning to see Betty "Reggie keeps stirring at you" she says as you looked over to the other side of the classroom Reggie had a face like thunder. 

Sweet pea pulled up outside Riverdale high getting off his bike but leaned against it, he had his jacket over his shoulder hanging down his back as he watched you walk down the steps typing away on your phone not even seeing him yet. Sweets was about to shout her when he saw Reggie one of the bulldogs he'd fought with before run after her.

Reggie grabbed your shoulder "y/n wait" he said his voice leased with anger "so you going to tell me where you've been and why half of the school are saying your seeing some other guy" his arms folded over his chest as he spoke. You looked at him dead in the eye speaking slightly slower so he got the message "Reggie where over, we was the second you slept with Josie and yes the rumours are true" at the point out the corner of your eye, you saw sweet pea walking toward you. now Cheryl, Veronica, Kevin and the others all stood round listening to you and Reggie arguing.

you feel sweet pea put his serpent jacket round your shoulders hugging and kissing your cheek from behind, everything okay princess" sweets asks you, smirking at Reggie, "yes I was just telling Reggie that I traded an old dog for someone better" you answer. Reggie and the rest if the Riverdale high students all looked in shock gasping and gossiping. Reggie looked at you "really y/n your revenge plan was good but we both know you belong to me" he said grabbing your arm. Sweet pea knocked his arm from you "touch her like that again and watch what I do to you" sweet pea started in a chillingly calm voice "y/n doesn't belong to you, you lost her when you when you made her feel like shit, don't get mad when someone else shows her she's a princess she is" he says gripping your hand bringing it to his lips for a light kiss, smiling at you.

You smile and blush back at sweet "let's get out of here" you say as you walked with sweet pea back to his motorcycle. "y/n, stop you can't just leave me" you heard Reggie shouting but ignored it driving off with your serpent prince.