#he was a person who struggled and more likely his coke was laced and he died

[fexicoded]

+

[romanarose]

Take Your Time: Chapter 1

Frankie "Catfish" Morales X Fem! Oc (Jana Fernandez)

Chapter 2

Series masterlist

Fic summary: Told through the present and series of flashbacks, Frankie and Jana, his ex-girlfriend and the mother of his daughter, Rosie, begin spending more time together as Frankie attempts to get sober, and Jana becomes friends with the girlfriend of Frankie's best friend. They both say they never stopped loving each other, is the timing right for them to finally have a life together?

Chapter summary: 6 months into his sobriety, Frankkie is still struggling. When Will, Benny and Santi are all out of town and he needs help, he knows he can still call on Jana.

Takes place within Leather and Lace in what I call "TF Romanaverse" but it is NOT necessary to read LaL beforehand. You'll be more familiar with the Oc's such as Jana, Laci, and a little bit of Lorelei, but I wrote this series specifically to be read separately incase you don't read Santi fics, that series didn't interest you, or the content was too dark. Speaking fo which, read the mfing warnings.

Warnings!: Self harm (not a suicide attempt but sure looks like one) cutting, blood, puke, excessive drinking, mentions of drug use and addiction but no more relapses, Frankie feeling miserable. Graffic depiction of the wounds as first aid is being applied. Do noooooot actually do this for first aid. Get them to a hospital. But this is fiction.

******************

Answering the phone at midnight, Jana already swung both legs over the bed and began pulling socks on. “Frankie? What’s going on?”

“M’sorry. Woke you.” Frankie’s slurred voice answered.

“No you didn’t, the shelter had me on overnights last week, remember?.” Frankie had Rosie, their daughter, most of the week, albeit they stayed with Santi and Laci. While Frankie’s recovery was going well, Jana was still nervous with several days in a row, worried it might overwhelm him. Laci watched Rosie when Frankie worked, and if both were busy, Santi had taken her, impressing Laci very much with his skills with the toddler.

“Sorry” Frankie repeated. “Everyone else is gone. Didn’t know who else to call.”

 “You can always call me, Francisco. What did you take?”

“Jus’ whiskey right now, but that’s why m’callin’ you” 

Phone to here ear, she carefully bundled up a sleeping Rosa in a few blankets, the mild Florida winter making for less of a need for a full coat, especially when she’d have to take it off to buckle her into the car seat anyway. “Whiskey we can work with, honey.” Quickly, Jana back tracked as she headed out the door. “We can work if you relapse too, okay? Never be afraid to call me or the guys, we’re always here for you.”

 Jana had gone back and forth with her feelings on Santi for a number of years, mostly when she was still dating Frankie. Frankie would follow that man to the end of the earth, and pretty much had. That trip to Columbia had been the nail in the coffin for a relationship already strained from addiction, and Jana held it against Santiago for a long while. In more recent times, however, she’s come to see him as an ally for Frankie. Santi and his girl, Laci, as well as Will and Benny had all pulled together this last year as Francisco tried to sober up for perhaps the first real time. Although Jana was not with Frankie anymore, she would always love him. They hadn’t broken up for lack of love, or even for lack of trying, but for the things coke can do to a person, especially a person who recently came into a shit ton of money and nothing to do when his daughter is gone but get high.

“I’m waking Rosa” He sounded sleepy.

“No,” Jana couldn’t help but laugh, looking at her curly-haired daughter, out cold in the car seat. “That girl started sleeping through the night at one month old, she’s a miracle child”

“Yeah. Yeah she is. She deserves someone better.”

She got in the car, hooking up the phone to the speaker. “Stop. You’re a good dad, Frankie, a great dad. I’ve never seen a man play dolls with a kid for 2 hours straight, she adores you. You just need a little help”

“Yeah” It was quiet.

“Frank, hey, don’t fucking go to sleep, we’ll be right there.”

“Don’t wan’ her t’see me like this”

“She won’t, I promise. What room are you in?”

“Bathroom”

“Okay, I’ll lay her down in her crib before I even come to the bathroom okay?”

“Promise?”

“As long as you stay awake, yes.”

“Fine”

“Okay”

Wanting to make sure she paid attention to the road, her nighttime vision not greatJana didn’t talk much, only when she thought he was falling asleep. She parked on the wrong side of the road, quickly grabbing Rose (how did this child sleep so much?), calling to Frankie she was here, and laid her down in the crib as promised. Her room at her uncle Santi’s had a toddler bed, as she was quickly growing, taking after her dad, but this would do fine in a pinch. With her heart about to burst out of her chest, she ran into the bathroom, expecting to find him puking or passed out on the floor. Instead, to her horror, she found him in his underwear, slumped up against the tub and the wall, blood on his arms and legs.

“Frank!”

Thinking quickly, Jana grabbed one of his towels and wrapped it around the two deep cuts on the inside of his wrist and the one on the outside. There were a few others on his legs, but it was clear the wrist was more imminent a danger. “I’m calling an ambulance, hold on” She instructed as she placed his hand over the towel. “No” Frankie mumbled. “No ambulance” “You tried to kill yourself Frankie!” Jana shouts, the smell of alcohol and puke was raw in the bathroom, permeating her nose and she vaguely registered his crumbled up shirt as the source of the vomit, and assumed he must’ve thrown up on himself in the binge. Frank grabbed her hand, finally looking at her. “No, I didn’t” Eyes wide and panicked, she looked at him intently, gritting through her tensed mouth. “Then what the hell is this!”

Closed his eyes again. “I don’t know. Wanted to feel something, punish myself, I dunno”

“Hey. hey.” Gently tapping his cheek, Jana kept him conscious. “You need to stay awake.”

“No hospital” He reiterated. “They’ll lock me up and I swear to god this is only going to get worse.”

Jana considered for a moment, then reached for her phone. “Fine, but I’m calling Will” The older Miller was as close to a doctor as any of them knew, starting as a combat medic before he quickly rose in the ranks and eventually joined Delta Force as Tom handpicked his team. Throughout the years, they had called on him in lieu of an actual doctors visit, as the man kept up with trainings and taking classes. He could probably out do a doctor at this point, but much of his training was in formal. Frankie did not like this plan either, shaking his head. “No, they’re out of town visiting their cousin or something. Don’t wanna bug em” “It’s Will or an ambulance.” Jana gave him his choices, but as Frankie seemed to struggle to choose between being hospitalized or being a bother to the people that mean most to him, Jana calmed her tone, taking Frankie’s flushed and puffy face in her hands. “Francisco, Will loves you, so do Benny, Santi and Lace, so do I. We want to help you. You aren’t a bother, you aren’t a burden, Will would want me to call him.” Dodging her eyes, he gave a quick nod, consenting to calling Will. Jana pressed the facetime option on Will’s contact page and within two rings his face appeared on the screen. “Jana? What's wrong? Is Rosie okay? Are you?” He had clearly been sleeping, and it warmed Jana’s heart that he answered so fast, worried something happened to her or Rosa. That’s what she liked about Frankie’s friends. In the past, she could barely get the care she wanted from the men she dated, and their friends barely acknowledged her, if not being flat-out creepy or making racial comments. The Millers and Santiago, for all her and Santi bicker, had been nothing but respectful and welcoming to her, and she liked to think she welcomed back. “We’re fine, it’s… here” Jana flipped the camera to show Frankie. The poor man looked humiliated, but she’d handle that later. “He won’t go to the hospital and insists it wasn’t an attempt, I need you to look at them and tell me if we can handle it here.” Will was a combat medic. He’d seen way worse, hell, Jana knew. Hell, he’d seen worse on himself and his friends, including Frankie, but he was obvious not prepared for this, and despite his ability to keep calm in this emergency, she heard his voice shake, just a bit. “Okay.” Scanning up the cuts on his legs, Will confirmed those weren’t a risk, but he had seen the bloody towel around his friends wrist, and told her to unwrap it. She had to pad the blood away for him to even see how bad it was.

“Fish, you should really get stitch-” “No” Frankie was having none of it. Jana turned the camera back to her. “Can I take care of it here?” “Jana, he should really-”

“Yes or no” Will sighed. “Can you give him stitches?”

Jana glanced to Frankie, bleeding heavily and looking absolutely wrecked. She wanted him in the hospital, in the safety of doctors but she also knew he had seen a lot, and hospitals made him anxious. Plus, there was no doubt in her mind that for someone who valued quality time so heavily, a mandatory lock up for a suicide attempt, or whatever this was, would only make him worse.

“Yeah, I think so. ”

Will was not thrilled, but allowed it. “Go get his first aid kit, I’ll walk you through it.” All the guys had ‘first aid kits’ that were the size of small hospitals, thanks to Will. He instructed Frankie to keep his arm raised and gently keep pressure on the wounds. Jana knelt beside him. “Can you stay like this for me? While I get what you need?”

Eyes wide and wet, he looked up at her an nodded.

She kissed his forehead and she got up. “Good job, I’ll be right back.” Taking the phone with her, she went to the kitchen where she knew his first aid kit was. “What’s he on?” Will asked. “Just liquor, Helluva lot of it, and whiskey if I’m smelling it right.” “He’s been sober from coke for six months, maybe it’s time he stops drinking too.” “One bridge at a time, Will. He still has cravings, let’s give him a break.” Jana continued gathering what  she needed and washing her hands thoroughly. “He tried to kill himself while drunk, Jana!” She looked directly at the camera. “How about you deal with your alcoholic brother, I’ll deal with Frankie, okay?” Jana snapped. A pause. She knew she wasn’t supposed to bring that up. “Sorry-”

“Let’s get him stitched up, we can talk about this later.” Sighing, she rinsed her hands and turned the faucet off with her elbow. “I’m sorry, Will. I’m just a bit freaked out.”

“I understand. We should probably talk when Ben and I are back, discuss it with Santi.” Jana wasn’t sure how she felt about talking about Frankie and his problems when he wasn’t around. “Yeah, with Frankie.”

Will nodded on screen. “With Frankie.”

Frankie, of course, had things for stitches, the over-anxious man he was. With Will’s guidance, the cuts only needed on each, enough to close the wound a bit. The bleeding slowed, and after disinfecting and bandaging the wound, and thanking Will (as well as promising to update him throughout the night), Jana found herself propped up in the bathroom wall, covered in blood, Frankie’s head on her lap as she played with his hair. Her instructions were to keep him awake for a while, since he lost so much blood, but this was proving difficult as the alcohol ran through his system.

“Where did Santi and Laci go? Laci didn’t mention going anywhere this weekend.” She asked. Santi’s girlfriend had begun volunteering at the women’s shelter Jana worked in, and the pair had become fast friends. Frankie mumbled, trying to stay awake. “It was snowing somewhere up north, Laci missed the snow, so he took her up there to some fancy hotel for a few days. Private hot tub, rose petals, room service. Whole shabang.” Jana couldn’t help but smile and chuckle at that. “She’s really got that boy whipped, huh?”

To her relief he smiled back. “Yeah but he’s got her wrapped around his finger too.” “They're really cute”

“Yeah, they are.” Frankie’s smile faded. “I’m sorry. That’s what you deserved. Someone who could be like that for you. Take care of you.”

“Frank…” He shut his eyes, and Jana thumbed away a tear that ran down her cheek. “Honey, no. I don’t need what Laci needs. I don’t need to be taken care of like that. You cared for me in all the ways I needed you too, and you continue to provide for me and our baby. You were a good boyfriend, you really were. I was really, really happy with you, that’s why we decided to have Rosa” Jana leaned down to press a kiss into his hair as his eyes remained locked shut. “You gave me the most precious thing in my life, and if I didn’t love you enough already, I’d love you simply for that. Look at me, sweetie.” With a soft touch, she coaxed his eyes open. “I love you, I always loved you and I never stopped loving you. I promised you that when I left. You are an excellent father and a loving, good, kind friend. If I can’t be with you as a partner, I’m happy to be your friend, for the rest of our lives.”

Looking at her, Frankie nodded. “I never stopped loving you either. I’m sorry. I know i’ve said it 1000 times but I’m sorry. For the coke, for how I acted, for going to Columbia when you told me not to, for everything that happened after…” “It’s okay, honey, I forgave you a long time ago. I know as well as you do that addiction is an evil illness” “It doesn’t mean I didn’t make mistakes-” “I know, you made mistakes and so did I. It’s okay. You’re not a bad person, Francisco.” He closed his eyes again, wincing this time. “Oh fuck.” Jana, having been through enough nights of the two of them drinking together in their youth, especially back in the army, knew what that meant. “Okay, up.” She helped him get over the toilet bowl, rubbing his bare back as he threw up. “Pope’s never gonna leave town again. Gonna start camping outside the house” “Pope can suck my dick, Frankie” Jana replied, an smiled when she heard him chuckle. “I’m serious.” But she was laughing too. “If you need him back off a bit, I’ll talk to him.” Frankie shook his head. “I like… I like having them around, I just don’t want to interrupt his life.” “You aren’t, I promise. He loves you very much, and much as he likes to pretend he’s a rolling stone, I think it’s become apparent with Laci around he’s a caretaker at heart.” Frankie mumbles “Like Han Solo”

This causes Jana to laugh. “Yeah, yeah like Han Solo.” “I’m sorry” Frankie spoke between dry heaves. “I’m really trying to sober up.” “Take your time. God knows you held my hair back enough times, Azúcar, I’m just returning the favor.”

“What did I do to deserve you?”

“You exist, Frankie. You don’t have to earn me, who you are is enough.”

Jana got Frankie set up on the living room floor, plush carpeting and the blankets she laid down giving enough comfort while simultaneously keeping him on a firm surface. After getting him to rinse out his mouth and drinking some water, he was put in the recovery position (confirming to Will via text that it was done) and she covered him in a warm blanket, after putting a pair of pj’s over him, to spare him a bit of dignity if nothing else. For the next half hour, at 2 AM, she cleaned up the bathroom of blood and vomit, showered his blood off her and helped herself to his clothes, threw hers and Frankies messy clothes in the wash with the bloodied towels, redressed his wounds as he slept, and did the dishes for good measure. One less thing for him to worry about in the morning. And he would worry in the morning. They got through that hard part, but it was all far from over. Jana laid beside him, getting under the covers on the hard floor and got just close enough to where she’d wake if he started to choke or vomit or anything, but didn’t want to encroach on his personal space.

It was far from over, to be sure, but Jana planned on working with him, Will, Benny and Santi, and being there for him every step of the way. He wasn’t her boyfriend anymore, but he’s always been the love of her life.

****************

I knoooooow an intense start to a series!!!! But I really hope you guys like it! LMK if you'd like to be added to the tag list!!! @milkymoon2483 @trinkets01 @welcometostayingawake

[moonlight-fan2008]

Moonlight rewatch for millionth time

Episode 5 random thoughts and feelings I had while rewatching again: cause I’m bored and have nothing else to do or watch. And I love this show

In my personal opinion I feel like this episode was most likely the one where they (writers) decided that Mick/Beth went from a will they-won’t they pairing to a when will they pairing. Throughout episode there’s lots of scenes talking about fate or Beth/Josh only to have some sort of wrench thrown in the works and Mick is there.

I.e Beth is getting a blood test done and Josh comments it’s weird Mick just disappeared and is no longer hanging around. Then queue Mick showing up and when he ask’s about Beth and Josh getting married she quickly says no much to Josh’s chagrin (like look at him he’s a little hurt)

Also Mick talks about fate and later Beth’s friend talks about fate at Beth and Josh’s house where they host a dinner party for their one year anniversary only to have a call from the morgue that drags her away from Josh and Co. and who does she run into? Mick.

Then it’s revealed that Mick’s missing girl case and Beth’s murder victim story are related and forces them to work together and get over what happened in the desert

Beth “You’ve been avoiding me” Mick “No I haven’t” he says in the most defensive way possible

More on fate, Beth’s friend Marissa is talking about fate and how Josh and Beth are meant to be and that is followed by a phone call which her friend interprets as a call from Josh and is like see you’re fated. Only to have that actually be a call from Mick (which doesn’t make it any less of a sign btw Beth)

Beth’s braver than me I’d be bright red and embarrassed the entire time during the “sexy” call scene where she’s pretending to be the dead escort

Mick’s not paying any attention to the FBI agent, he’s just like yeah uh huh and looking around the room

I like how Mick and Beth can communicate without saying anything

More on vampires drinking alcohol, the vampire kid in this episode is drinking some sort of beverage maybe a coke or rum and coke with a cherry garnish and yes he’s just sipping it but if there’s nothing benefiting you from drinking something other than blood and as Mick states in previous episodes they can’t taste food. What’s the point of drinking wine or whiskey or champagne or whatever. So is more of a sensation thing or is there something else to drinking alcohol ?

Mick’s face after Beth asked about sex between humans and vampire

It’s like he’s so serious

I wonder if Josef has a special vampire characteristic that others don’t, like the vampire in this episode can make his nails into razor sharp talons and Lace and Coraline are immune to fire (which most likely means Mick is too) and Mick has that ice breath thing that we see in “The Ringer” so do all vampires get a special gift or only certain people are lucky enough to get an extra ability

“I’ll love you forever” Coraline took the forever part a little too literally

And he’s dead. Rip little psycho you won’t be missed

Beth “She doesn’t want to be on the internet” Maureen “Since when ?” Me “I don’t know maybe since she was nearly strangled to death by her client?”

Last thing on fate, Mick is taking about how what you want doesn’t matter and if the universe wants something it will happen whether or not you want it. And that’s followed by Mick dropping his car keys and struggling to find them under his car giving Beth enough time to catch up with him.

First kiss and Mick’s face (little dork)

What the disk menu looks like for disk two

Side note imagine being stuck at 16 forever ? Geez that would suck like at least if you’re in your 20’s you can do things freely like not be in school, get a house etc but being 16 forever ugh that’s a nightmare. I’m not condoning the psycho but ugh just thinking about makes me annoyed

[kissitbttr]

𝒃𝒍𝒖𝒏𝒕 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒘𝒐

summary: steven is head over heels for you but you are yet to know. yet, things just might change when you offer him his first ever weed

pairing: steven grant x reader, marc spector x reader, jake lockely x reader

word count: 4152

“How are you feeling, Stevie?”

He hears you ask, a tone laced with concern as you speak. Your delicate hand reaches out to brush a few of his curls from his forehead, and for a quick second, he feels himself melt under your touch.

You have been his friend for six months now. He remembered the day you walked into his life by saving his ass from being tormented even further by his manager. You pretended to be his girlfriend and gave him a soft peck on the cheek in front of her. Up until now, he couldn’t believe that it had happened. It was surreal because no one had ever defended him from anything. He went through a lot of things alone.

But he has you now.

“I’m fine, love. Thank you” He gives you a smile, but you can already tell it’s not genuine. In fact, he does it quite often. “I hate how you always have to lie about not being okay, it’s just me Steven” you reassure. Twirling your finger around his soft hair. “Has someone been poking fun at you?”

Steven shakes his head, fiddling with his fingers. “No, no. It’s not them, I’m just…” He pauses to take a deep breath. "Exhausted. I find it difficult to get some sleep lately. Could be anxiety and such.”

“Have you… talked to someone about it?” you question, crossing your arms as the worry grows over his lack of sleep and the more prominent dark circles under his eyes.

He shakes his head. “No. it’s just you. You’re the only one who knows. Not like I could afford therapy or something” he mentions, pulling his sleeves to make sweater paws. “Plus, I don’t really have that many friends.”

Your brows dip into sadness, “I’m sorry, Stevie. I wish I could help you with that. I’m struggling a bit myself if it makes you feel better. The bar I work at is losing its customers since the incident that happened two weeks ago. Remember that? So I might have to find singing gigs from someplace else, in case the bar shut down.” With a sigh, you slump onto the couch, hating yourself because you can’t help him with his situation.

“Don’t worry about it, love. It’s not your fault, yeah?” He says, hoping it puts your mind at ease, as he watches the small pout form on your lips.

There it is. One of the many reasons he fell in love with you. You take such good care of him, he appreciates that a lot. Your eyes speak with such sincerity when you talk to him. Your voice grows soft when you comfort him about whatever it is that has been bothering him. He fails to count the number of times you make his heart soften with your words. One thing he takes such pride in is that he’s the only person you’re soft with.

He sees you talk to your friends and other people with such a bossy and bold attitude, and makes them fear you. You have a smart mouth and love to destroy people with wit and sarcasm. He finds that extremely attractive.

“Oh, I know what we should do!” You exclaim and your mouth turns into a huge smile as you jump yourself up from the couch excitedly. “Be right back”

His brows furrow as he watches you skip towards your bedroom. “Where are you going?” He calls you, but there’s no answer, wondering what you have on your pretty little mind.

You return a few minutes later, a Ziploc bag in your hand filled with… leaves?

“What’s that in your hand?” He points with his finger,

You plop yourself back down next to him, and he has to quickly look away due to your shorts’ terrible work at hiding your soft thighs.

“This” You lift the bag up. “Is cannabis”

“A what?”

“Cannabis. You know, weed?” You smile at him, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear and wiggling the bag. “When I get depressed or feel like crying, I take these out, roll them up, and smoke one until I get better.”

“Oh, I don’t know if I should–”

“They’re not strong like coke or anything. It’s not gonna get you fucked up if that’s what you’re worried about. Trust me on this, okay?” You grab a small table from beside the couch and place the papers down before taking out a handful of grass. “I’m not going to make you do something that’ll put you in trouble.”

He watches intently as you put the fresh grounded leaves inside the transparent paper, grabbing a filter tip with your other hand and placing it on the left side of the joint. He enjoys the sight of your fingers rolling the blunt gently, as if you’re scared to break it. He likes watching you do something with your hands, and not in a creepy way, of course. It’s just that whenever he sees you doing something, you always seem so gentle with it.

“This is rather entertaining to watch” he mutters, leaning forward a little to get a better look. “You do this often, don’t you”

“Been doing this since high school, Steven.” You respond with a small chuckle, sticking your tongue out to secure the blunt in place before pressing it

Steven clears his throat, trying to rid the image of your pierced tongue on his head. “Wow that’s–that’s amazing” he comments, “So uh– what do we do with it?”

“We smoke it” you point out, matter-of-factly, follows by a small giggle at his cute innocence. “Just inhale lightly, don’t overdo it just yet. This is your first time, right?”

“Yeah” He breathes out, picking at a loose thread on the sweater he’s wearing, a habit of his when he gets nervous. “I’m scared of trying it out to be honest.”

“It’s not gonna bite you, Steven” you roll your eyes playfully with a smile remaining on your lips, then reach out to grab a baby pink lighter across from you. “I’m gonna light it now, okay?”

Steven has his mouth wide open when he sees you putting the butt of the joint between your glossed lips. Lighting it at the end before watching you inhale quite deeply, releasing the smoke seconds later and watching it dissolve into thin air.

“Your turn” you nudge his knee while handing him the blunt. “Just do what I just did”

He’s contemplating whether he should grab it or not. Not because he doesn’t want to, but it’s because this would be the first time he’s trying weed and he doesn’t want to make a fool of himself in front of you. What if he choked or swallowed the smoke instead of releasing it?

He’s never even smoked a cigarette before.

“I’m-i’m–”

You watch him set his eyes on the blunt, probably scared of messing it up since he never smoked anything before in his life. And you completely understand why, so you think that there might be a better way of helping his cute self out with something that’s far more comfortable.

“Okay, how about this. I’ll guide you through it, sounds good?” You softly say, tucking your legs beneath your thighs and scooting yourself closer to him.

“H-how?”

“By trusting me” you whisper softly once your face is close enough to his, inhaling once more from the blunt.

He gulps at the sight of you. So pretty and so close. He glances down at your soft lips that he has been fantasizing about molding with his own, your long dark messy hair that he wants to run his hands through after making love to you. To have your hair spread all over his pillows, leaving it to smell like you every day.

He wants to drown himself in your scent.

“Open your mouth for me .” You whisper softly, taking a quick look at his lips

He feels butterflies in his stomach when you say that, unsure what to think, but he does anyway. Parting his mouth a bit and before he knows it, you’re making your move. By reaching both of your hands up, cupping his face, and guiding your lips into his before exhaling the smoke softly and slowly into Steven’s open mouth with both of your eyes closed.

The room is dead silent, and he swears he can hear his heartbeat going faster each second. His body trembles slightly over the feeling of your mouth on him and you put your hand on his thigh to calm him down, letting him know that you got him.

His eyes go wide. His body stiffens as he tries his very best to push all of the dirty thoughts about you, clouding his mind. Eventually, he relaxes, slowly closing his eyes as he savors the sweet taste of your lips.

After a while, you pull away from him. And he struggles not to cling himself to you because he likes having your soft lips on his. This could be the closest thing he can get to having you and he does not want to let go just yet.

With his brown eyes ghosting over yours, he allows himself to observe every single detail of your gorgeous face. Moving from the crease between your brows to your nose, and your smile.

Your hands remain on each side of his cheeks, giggling at his adorable facial expression while closing his mouth with your fingers underneath his chin. He inhales the smoke slowly,

“You good, baby?” You ask, giving him another, yet a lazy smile, his pupils dilated as you watch him. You don’t know if it’s because of the amount of smoke you’ve inhaled or it could be just him. Either way,

You feel content because you have two of your favorite things with you right now.

​​His heart soars and his cheeks feel warm at the nickname, as he nods. This is the first time he has ever gotten to be called ‘baby’ and he’s lucky enough to hear it from your mouth.

No one could ever make him feel at home the way you do.

“Never felt better”

. . .

Steven hasn’t gotten a clue at what time it is. It feels like this has been going on for hours. Just lying comfortably on your couch with you beside him, a second blunt tucks between your pretty fingers. His eyes are quite hazy; if you’re curious enough to take a peek, he no longer feels the anxiety taking over his body, but rather a feeling of relaxation and warmth.

“I’m hungry” you blurt, jutting your lower lip. “I could go for a burger right now” the mental image of that delicious meal on your mind is making your mouth water.

“We could… order it, i-if you wanna” he slurs, eyes flittering over to you. You look so calm with that gorgeous smile of yours.

Snorting, you answer “You’re a vegan, Steven”

“I mean yeah but … there’s no harm in trying. Haven’t had one of those in years.” He notes, “Vegan burgers are disgusting anyway”

“Right” you agree with a laugh, sitting up before disregarding the blunt into the nearest trash can. “Are you… good?”

He nods, biting back a sigh of relief. “I’m great actually, love. That stuff really works.” Digging his knuckles lightly against his eyelids, rubbing them gently

You look over at him and you almost fall to your knees at the sight. He looks so fucking adorable. With that droopy look on his face and the sweater paws he has on. Is he doing this on purpose?

“Told ya” you reach forward to him, slightly grazing his nose with your finger. “I like your nose. It’s pretty ”

He feels soft, your voice always seems to ease his nerves away. “Do you, actually? Or are you just saying that because you’re under the influence?”

“It’s called being high, Steven” you correct him with a better term. “And no I am definitely not high. Like you are right now.” From all of the people you’ve smoked with, Steven may just be your favorite. He’s basically just himself, but more entertaining and adorable. The reaction that weed has given him is making him relaxed, it seems. You just hope that it’s enough to make him forget about the troubles that have consumed his mind lately. He deserves a break, he really does.

“My bad, love. It’s my first time doing this.” He defends with a giggle. Eyes bore on yours as he reaches his hand out, pressing his thumb against your soft cheek. Something he never had the courage to do when he was sober. Even just now, he’s terrified of making you feel uneasy.

“Can I tell you something?”

With a smile, you nod. “Of course.”

Steven sits still and remains quiet as he can be, trying to put together the words he’s about to say to you. He knows what he has been wanting to say over the past few months, but insecurities tend to get the best of him. Not a day goes by that his own thoughts stress him out about how he’s not good enough for someone else, not even for himself.

What if he said something he really meant, but you can't give him the answer he wanted? What if you realized that he has been pinning over you for a long time and that makes you feel uncomfortable because you just see him as a friend? These scenarios he purposely built on his mind have been destroying his days, and it hasn’t even happened yet. He’s hurting himself emotionally and he has no idea how to stop it.

It’s going to get worse if you reject him. He’d be so hurt.

“I’m so grateful to have you in my life.” He starts, gulping nervously. “And I like this, being with you … you give me some sort of certainty that I’m going to be okay in the future. You make me feel so safe.”

You try to hold back the smile on your face as you bite your lip softly, “As do you” your hand reaches out to grasp his hand, interlocking your fingers together.

Steven likes the feeling of your soft palm on his, and he grips your hand gently. Letting you know that he doesn’t want you to let go. “You’ve become my safety net for the longest time. There have been so many times where I feel so scared but you show me how I should not be anymore.” He looks down at your hands before continuing, “Don’t understand why you wanna waste your time to be with me, love. I’m a knob. A complete tool if you asked Donna.”

“Steven” you sternly say, a displeasing look on your face as he insults himself like that.

“I know, I know… ‘Don’t say that shit about yourself, again Steven Grant’ is what you always like to say to me. Million times if I counted right.” He jokes and mentally cheers once he manages to earn a smile from you at his attempt at doing your voice. “But it’s quite what I haven’t figured out yet, love. Why do you?”

You keep your eyes on him, trying to figure out whether he’s joking or not. This is one of the main things you despise about him. How he’s so willing to drag himself down because others have spoken to him exactly how they think of him. Because of them, he has never been able to find one good thing about himself while you have millions sitting in the back of your mind. Every day, you find a quirk of his that makes you adore him even more than ever.

You wish he knew that.

“Oh, Steven… I wish you could see yourself as the world sees you” you speak sadly, tilting your head to the side. “You have been my safety net too. Do you know how comfortable I am with you? I don’t think I’ve ever felt this good in someone else’s arms before.”

His breath hitches in his throat, feeling his hand get clammy due to his nerves rushing in. “Can I tell you something? But you have to promise to never look at me differently after this or be disgusted with me”

You frown, shaking your head. “Couldn’t imagine myself being disgusted with you… what is it?”

You watch him take three big deep breaths. His eyes aren’t looking at you anymore. But you see a hint of fear reflecting on his beautiful brown eyes and it makes you tense just a little. And soon as he says those words that have been weighing on his shoulders, he knows there’s no turning back now.

“I love you”

The time stops when you hear his confession. Eyes are broadening in shock as your whole body freezes, not knowing what to respond to. The beating of your heart makes it impossible for you to concentrate. You believe it’s loud enough. Even Steven could hear it.

“What?” You croak out,

He repeats it once more. This time he blurts out the details. “I’ve loved you ever since you stepped into the museum and offered me your coffee because you saw how tired I looked. I love how you protected me when Donna mistreated me that one time. I love how you make my kitchen smell like pancakes and hot chocolate every time you stay over. I love how I’m the person you ask about which songs you’re going to be doing at your gigs. I love how you tell stories about Greek mythology and I’m having a hard time whether I actually am invested with Greek history or the sound of your voice.”

There’s a long pause after that. Your eyes soften and you struggle to fight off the warmth that’s trying to sneak its way to the apple of your cheeks after hearing him say that.

“I love your body too…” He continues, figuring the silence is getting a bit awkward, “I mean forgive me if I offended you for saying this darling but, I sometimes fantasize about your ... breasts”

You laugh at his honesty, covering your face with your hands. “Jesus, Steven”

Now that weed really overpowers him,

“I just ... love you overall ... I like it with you ... like this. if you don’t feel the same way that’s completely fine with me but just know I’d probably be a wreck, cry myself to sleep, and listen to sad songs all week. It’s quite pathetic to think about it yeah?” He winces slightly at the thought,

“Steven-“

He cuts you off “I mean, a girl like you wouldn’t want to be with someone like me. We don’t look good together I suppose, people might think-“

“Steven” You call out his name once more

“That we look odd. Lil ol’ Steven Grant. Can’t imagine what my co-workers think if they saw us dating, they’d probably think I’d bewitched you or something. You’re smart, gorgeous, funny, kind,and have all the men fawning over you. I don’t stand a chance”

“Steven! Stop. Talking.” You say it louder this time, your hands grabbing onto his face and forcing him to look at you.

“Oh was I rambling?” He asks dumbfoundedly, eyes genuinely looking concerned when he hears you yell out his name

“Yes! Good God” you nod, giving him a tired smile.

“Sorry, darling, a habit there” He mumbles softly, knuckling at her eyes before emitting a soft chuckle, cursing himself for having such a mouth.

“You have to let me answer, okay?” Your voice is gentle, “no talking during.”

He nods meekly, not ready to hear you reject him up front, “Okay”

“First of all. If they were to ever say something bad about you, I’d personally march over there and kill them, myself. Literally.” You seriously state. “I am not joking. I smacked a bitch before in a school play, in front of everyone, so I do not mess around.”

“That’s terrifying actually “ he mutters, though not surprised

“Second... I like being in this space with you too. This is the closure I have been wanting for so long and I want it with you.” You murmur, petting at the soft skin of his cheek with the pad of your thumb. Liking the feeling of his light stubble under it.

His eyes are full of hope as he stares at you lovingly. He wonders if this is going to go where he thinks it’s going. “You do?”

“Yeah” you give him a comforting grin, letting your temple lull against the headrest, smiling softly. “Do you have any idea how hard it is for me to contain this feeling I have for you? To resist the urge of kissing your lips every time I see someone flirting with you?”

“Re-really?” He sounds surprised. Almost like you’re pulling a prank on him because there he doesn’t think that you’re being honest. “You think that? When you’re with me?”

“All the time, Stevie.” You answer, and the nickname rolls out of your tongue easily. “You don’t sound convinced though.”

“Wha– well” he begins, his voice starting to get a bit high and jittery as he speaks. “I don’t think I ever deserved to have your love. I’m not– You know–”

Your face falls into worry and sadness, watching him choking back a sob as a single tear drops from his eye. “Hey, hey, Steven? Baby, what’s wrong?” Letting your fingertips glide against his skin, wiping away the tear that stains his cheek. “I didn’t mean to make you cry.”

“It’s not you.” He chuckles sadly, fingers wiping underneath his nose. “Everything you’ve ever done for me, I appreciate it a lot more than you think. You’re such a beautiful person, Y/N. Especially tonight. No one has ever held me like this, help taking care of my well-being, I thought I was a burden to you.”

You gape at his vulnerability, feeling the emotions are taking over his place as he looks away, not caring anymore about the tears that fall religiously. “Steven, oh my God, baby. How could you think something like that?” Your tone is sharp but also upset. “You could never ever become a burden of mine. I love you.”

With that, his silent cries stop, his wet gaze flickering at you as he hears you say the same thing he’s said to you. “You–you what?”

“I. Love. You” you state firmly, taking him by the nape of his neck with one hand as the other rests on the right side of his cheek. “And I want all of you. The good and the bad. Even if there’s a fucking demon paralysis that you got going on, I want it too. Might scare me to shitless but I’ll take it.”

He chokes out a laugh through his small sobs. Still can’t shake off the idea of you loving him just as he, to you. There’s a warm feeling inside of him that grows once you say it. Something about having you in his arms, it makes him feel so . . . nice and . . . wanted. It has been quite a long time since he’s been with a person. It created such a gap between him and love.

That is until you came along. You show him that there’s nothing to be afraid of anymore.

“Okay” is the only response he’s able to give. A soft smile replaces his frown. Now he feels nothing but reassurance.

Both of you stare at each other in comfortable silence. You feel his broad hand move slowly to grab you by your right hip, as the other one makes its way to your soft thigh, tugging it closer to him so you can rest it on his lap. His heart jitters in a beat when he feels your knee brushing lightly against his groin.

You tuck your lower lip between your teeth, grazing your fingertip against his mouth before leaning forward and molding your lips against his, ever so softly and delicately. He sighs into your mouth with contentment. Like he has been waiting for this to happen for as long as he can remember. He puts both of his hands on your waist, giving it a light squeeze, and it’s enough to make you squirm a bit on his lap, sending a vibration to your core.

With your eyes shutting close, you wrap your arms around his neck and pull him closer. Jutting out your tongue to glide his lower lip, asking for an entrance before he slacks his jaw, mouthing at you hungrily. Sudden confidence washes over him, making you gasp in surprise.

“I love kissing you.” You comment cheekily, after your lips part away from each other. Jaded eyes staring at his –far more jaded ones–. The butterflies in your stomach have yet to stop. “I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of doing that”

He adores the way you speak to him. Never fail to make him feel shy, yet fuzzy with your words. There’s nothing he cherishes more than that. “I’ve been waiting so long to kiss you, love. Your lips and scent could be the death of me” he says, drawing circles on your back.

You giggle, feeling like a schoolgirl when you’re with him. “I’m not craving burgers anymore, I’ll make us some pasta” You peck his nose before getting up from his lap and start walking into the kitchen.

Steven presses his lips, trying to contain the big smile on his face when he watches you walk away. He couldn't believe it. Simply put, he cannot believe it. He wins you over. After dreaming about pining over you, wishing that he could be the guy that gets to kiss and hug you, it finally comes true.

He lowers his gaze down to the glass table, catching a glimpse of Marc’s proud smile at him after hearing Steven opening up to you along with the bottled-up confessions. After having long overdue amounts of countless conversations with him when you’re not around, he finally did it.

Marc believes that you’re good for him. You’re one gorgeous woman who managed to captivate both of them and pulled his brother out of his misery. He has seen you through Steven’s eyes, refusing to front , because as much as Marc loves you too, Steven deserves this more. For what he had been through because of him, Steven deserves all of this. He deserves you.

Good job, buddy. You did it

Steven shoots him a small smile, mouthing a ‘thank you’ which receives a nod from Marc. Another person he feels grateful to have in his life.

“Oh, Steven?”

He hears you call out his name, whipping his head back so fast, to find you standing next to the kitchen counter. “Yeah, love?”

Your head tilts to the side, letting a dimpled smile decorate your face. As you watch him fiddling with his own fingers, hoping to think that he hasn’t done something wrong to upset you.

“You might be the best high I’ve ever had.”

+

Pretty please leave a note on this one xx

[rebelwrites]

3 Is The Perfect Number (NSFW)

Jax Teller x Chibs Telford x Reader

co written with @chibsytelford girl we need to get another one written for out two fave Navy boys 😜

Saturday night only meant one thing, getting drunk, high or laid. Or even all three.

“Girl are you ready yet?” Lyla shouted upstairs.

“Gimme 5” you laughed as you shook your hair out before slipping on your timberlands.

You and Lyla were an odd combination, she was quite girly and you was the complete opposite. But somehow you were like peas in a pod.

“I will leave without you” she laughed.

“God I’m coming” you laughed taking one final look in the mirror, smirking at your appearance. Your cut off Nirvana shirt gave a glimpse of your cherry red lace bra and your shorts were cheeky.

Running down the stairs you hear Lyla whistle at you.

“Damn girl, someone is planning on getting laid tonight” she smirked.

“Too right, it’s been a hot minute” you sighed, you had recently come out of a very toxic relationship and was all about having fun. “Now let’s go because I’m gonna die if I don’t drink something alcoholic soon”

“Always the dramatic one” she chuckled as she locked up.

You and Lyla headed into the Sons clubhouse where the party was in full swing. The bar was the first stop of the night, flashing a flirty smile to the guy manning the bar you ordered 4 shots and 2 vodka and cokes.

“Cheers” you both giggled in unison, as you clinked the glasses together. The music was loud, the air was filled with the smell of weed , this was your kind of party. Slamming the glass down on the bar you and Lyla headed to dance in the middle of the floor.

As you swayed your hips seductively to the beat of the music you noticed more than one person had their eye on you. There was two people to be exact, and you knew them really well. Jax Teller and Chibs Telford.

A small smirk appeared on your face as an idea popped into your head, you just didn’t know if the boys would be up for it but you definitely was. The music changed and was more of an up beat tempo. Your hips gracefully moved to the beat as you winked at Lyla, dropping to the floor pushing your knees out, before bouncing back up popping you bum out.

If it wasn’t obvious you had gained the attention from Jax and Chibs, it definitely was now, as they stared at you opened mouth

“I need a drink” you laughed as you ran your hands through you hair, every action you did had a bit more effort in order to drive two boys insane. Slinking over time the bar you winked at Chibs before leaning against the cool wood and ordered a glass of whiskey.

“You gonna share that joint or what” you giggled holding your hand out to Jax.

“Lass ye surprise me every day” Chibs smirked placing his hand on the base of your back, and the flash of jealousy in Jax’s blue eyes didn’t go unnoticed.

Jax slammed the joint in your hand and you took a drag. You smirked, knowing full well that the blond haired, blue eyed man didn’t like the fact Chibs was touching you.

“Brother, can you grab me a beer?” Jax asked Chibs, and swiftly moved closer to you as the other man went off to find Jax a beer.

“What, do you want to touch me too?” You teased Jax.

The man didn’t waste any time and pulled you flush against him. Your chests were now touching.

“You knew fine well what you were doing, dancing like that” he growled ever so softly in your ear.

“I was only dancing” you giggled whilst innocently biting down on your bottom lip.

“Yeah, just dancing” he nodded running his tongue over his bottom lip as he took the joint out of your fingers.

Soon enough Chibs returned, standing behind you with his chest pressed against your back, he passed the beer over your shoulder to Jax before resting his hand on your hip. You was well and truly sandwiched between the two guys.

“Wanna dance Chibs?” you smirked, tilting your head to look up at him.

“With you lass, I’d do anything” he grinned squeezing your hip.

You knew before you started this master plan the chase would be fun, but now you was putting the plan in place it was hotter than you thought, having two guys getting jealous at the other ignited something in your core and you didn’t know how long you could keep it up.

You grabbed Chibs’ hand and dragged him to the middle of the floor. As you did that, you looked back to see Jax giving you both daggers. You waggled your finger at him in a ‘come here’ motion and he put down his beer and padded over.

At this point Lyla was dancing with her old man Opie not too far from you. You had Jax behind you, and Chibs in front, and god it felt good. The heat radiating from them both made you tie a bow at the front of your shirt, showing off even more of your red lace bra.

Jax put his hands on your hips, and Chibs held your shoulders and you held his. You shuddered at the sudden touches, you grinded against Jax, making sure not to leave Chibs out, by running your hands up and down his arms. The 3 of you completely lost in the middle of the floor.

“I think you are paying Jackie boy a bit too much attention lass” Chibs whispered huskily in your ear.

“We can’t have that now can we” you giggled as you spun around so Chibs was now behind you. Even from the loud music you hear the almost animalistic growl that left his lips as your ass ground against his groin. Jax’s eyes were completely hazed over, partly from the buzz from the joint and partly from lust.

“Red suits you baby” Jax winked as his fingers ran just under the material causing a breath to get caught in your throat.

Soon enough the song came to an end, and you was starting to get breathless from the dancing and the heat that was radiating from the boys. Lyla walked passed you rolling her eyes at the fact that you had both the president and Vice President on the club practically fighting for your attention.

“Darlin you are gonna have to choose who you want because you are driving me crazy” Jax breathed in your ear nipping it softly.

“Actually I don’t have to choose” you giggled.

Both men stared at you dumbfounded.

“What are you saying?” Chibs asked as he manoeuvred you back over towards the bar where it was a bit quieter.

“I’m saying, I don’t want to choose between you, because I want you both. Together”

This rendered both men speechless. They both looked at one another as if asking ‘should we do this’.

Jax was the first to break the silence. “Are you sure? You know we won’t go easy on you”

“I don’t want you to go easy on me, I’ve wanted this for a while, and tonight I thought fuck it, I’m going to do it” you were starting to become very confident and needy and you showed this by grabbing one hand of each man and leading them to one of the rooms through the back.

“A guess this is happening Jackie boy” Chibs nudged Jax playfully.

Letting go of their hands as you walked into the room, you had your back to them, in one quick motion you pulled you shirt off and started fumbling with the button of your shorts. After a couple of choice words your shorts pooled around your ankles. Stepping out of them you turn to face both guys, there jaws pretty much hit the ground as they drank in the little red number you was rocking.

Lifting your leg up into the bed you seductively ran your hands down your leg to untie you boot, quickly doing the same to the other one.

Looking over your shoulder, both Jax and Chibs were stood there staring, casting your eyes down you smirked at the tightness of both there jeans.

“Well boys” you whispered seductively “you just gonna stand there”

As soon as the words left you lips the Kuttes were off, clothing being tossed around.

Chibs was the first one to make a move, his hands ghosted down your sides, as he placed a few hot kisses down your neck, causing a small moan to escape your lips. Between the assault on your skin and feeling his hardness behind you, you felt the heat starting to pool between your legs.

Grabbing Jax’s chain you pulled him closer to you before slamming you lips against his so forcefully, your teeth clinked together. Your hands found there way into his hair tangling in the blond locks.

You knew by the morning you would be sore, tired and skin would be littered in little purple reminders of this night. One thing was for sure you knew you would be coming back for more.

Slipping your hand behind you, sinking it into Chibs’ boxers, you wrapped your hand around his length causing him to growl against your skin. A sudden chill ran across your chest causing your nipples to harden at the change of temperature, Jax took one of the hardened buds in his mouth making you moan, the feeling of him nipping, along side the hot kisses Chibs was placing down you neck was driving you wild and both of them knew that as you body squirmed under their touch.

“We haven’t even started yet love and ye are a whimpering mess” Chibs smirked against your skin as his hand slipped under the only bit of clothing left on your body.

Running his fingers through your slick folds, you felt your knees buckle under you, lucky Jax stop you falling. Squeezing your eyes closed as Chibs teased your clit.

“No open your eyes darlin’” Jax grinned looking up at you.

“Fuck” you breathed leaning back into Chibs as his fingers worked magic, you was coming apart at the seems and fast.

Soon enough you had been thrown on the bed, on all fours. Chibs was stood behind you and without warning slammed into you making you scream in pleasure. There was nothing gentle about his thrusts, each one hitting the spot every time. Whilst you was distracted Jax grabbed you face in his hands forcing you look at him.

“You gonna take my cock like a good girl” he smirked as he tugged on his dick.

Words were a struggle so all you could managed was a nod.

“Good girl” he winked as you took his hard member in your mouth, gagging every so often.

With every thrust it took you closer to the point of ecstasy, the high you was feeling was unlike anything else you had ever felt. Suddenly both boys stopped and pulled out causing you to whimper at the sudden feeling of emptiness.

“Ye holding in there lass” Chibs chuckled as he ran his fingers across your back.

“Yeah” you gasped, as Jax slowly slid into you.

The night was filled with many orgasms, a lot of moaning and screaming from all three of you.

Flopping back down on the bed you tried to catch your breath as Jax passed you a lit cigarette.

“Well that was something else” Jax yawned before placing a kiss on your bare shoulder.

“Hmm mmm” you mumbled.

“Come on lass lets get you cleaned up” Chibs smiled as he reappeared with a wash cloth. “Then we can sleep”

— — —

Slipping out of the room, leaving both Jax and Chibs snoring away, you went on the hunt for coffee. Lyla spotted you instantly smirking at the state your hair was in.

“Fun night” she winked passing you a mug of steaming hot coffee.

“Best night ever” you grinned as you sipped your drink.

“So the last thing I knew you had Jax and Chibs all over you and then all three of you disappeared” she said. Smirking at her as she connected the dots. “Wait BOTH of them?”

“Yeah both of them” you winked before turning your attention to the door.

“So that’s where my shirt disappeared to” Chibs laughed as he made his way over to you.

“You mean my shirt now” you smirked raising your eye brow at him as his hands found their way onto your shoulders squeezing away the tension.

“How you feeling’ this morning lass” he whispered placing a kiss on your forehead.

“I’m good” you nodded “but sore but so worth it”

You handed Chibs your mug of coffee to share with you. “You’ll need that after last night” you told him with a wink.

Jax was next to emerge from the room. “I was wondering if you was sneaking out this morning cause you regretted last night” he smirked as his blue eyes twinkled as he looked at you.

“I have no regrets what’s so ever, and I know you boys don’t either with the way you were both huffing my name last night”

Chibs spat out his coffee at your remark not realising Lyla already knew what happened.

“What, you think I wouldn’t tell my best friend about the best night of my life?” You giggled grabbing Lyla’s hand, and the coffee from Chibs and left the clubhouse to spill all the beans about the previous night.

One thing was for sure, you going to make it a habit. It’s true what they say 3 was definitely the perfect number.

[whump-town]

You Worry Me

Pairings: Emily & Hotch

Summary: college au things, Hotch checking himself into a mental hospital for the weekend

Warnings: child abuse, mental health struggles, abuse, suicide attempt, drugs, alcohol

When Emily asked him if he wanted to get an apartment with her she had expected far more hesitation than what she was met with. It’s not that she doesn't have other people to ask but when she really has to think about it he’s the only person she wants around like that. She’s content with his silence and his strange but enrapturing bouts of… oddness. She’s already thrown up in front of him (bad stomach flu she refused to admit was as bad as it was) and stood guard so he could pee behind a dumpster when they’d walked to the store at midnight for cigarettes and energy drinks.

She finds the courage to ask him on the front lawn of campus, stretched out on their backs ignoring their work and just photosynthesizing. Closing their eyes in silent enjoyment as spring tries to peek through winter's tight grip. When she turns to look at him the words just come tumbling out and she waits for his reaction. She’s not sure why she’s expecting anything other than that predictable crooked smirk but it still shocks her. He turns his head, lifting his arm to shield his eyes as he does so. Mostly, he just wants to know where he came in the line-up. How many people told her no before she came to him?

The honest answer is none but she smirks and tells him four and he laughs that deep goofy laugh that he does and she doesn’t know why she was nervous he’d say no. With a tired sigh, he nods and that’s all it takes-- they’re sharing an apartment.

He carries her clothes up to their floor, leaves her the pillows and her comforter for her to drag up. He’s exhausted by the time he’s got her things sitting on her bedroom floor but goes down to the beaten old pick-up truck his mother let him borrow to get his own things. Informs her with one of those long crooked fingers to worry with her own things and leave him to get his own. She resigns herself to listening but only because she’d seen his load and knew her help wouldn’t really quicken the whole six, small, boxes he has.

On his third trip she’s had enough and with a dramatic sigh she shakes her head and stands right in the doorway to his room. “No,” she says, crossing her arms. “No, I refuse to believe this. There’s no way you’ve read all these books.” She’s watched him carry three boxes of books into this apartment and not just boxes with things like thrown in he’s got them stacked to take up as little room as possible in these boxes. They’re heavy, he’s sweating and they keep coming.

With a sigh he leans down and sets the box currently in his arms down on the floor. “I read,” is his very complex answer. Aaron Hotchner has a way with words and she’s come to know that well. He shrugs, pushing at the hair slicked with sweat against his scalp. “I have read them… all of them.” Most of them more than once.

Books are the only thing he’s ever had. When he’d packed up for college all of the room had been taken up by these books. His clothes fit into one box but the books, he made room for the books. Every year, for as long as he can remember, his mother would buy him a book for his birthday. He got a job in town to have money to buy books to try and stifle his insatiable hunger (and his up-and-coming smoking habit).

She looks down at the box he’s just placed down, sighing when she sees that atop a pair of jeans there’s another book. Sherlock Holmes, she recognizes easily, and she shakes her head. “You know,” she steps out of his way and he heaves the box back up with a grunt. “My mother asked if I thought you’d kill me.” He falters mid-step but doesn’t stop. Carries the box to the others and sits it down heavily. He turns and finds her watching him with that quizzical, intuitive frown of hers. “You’re big but I think I could take you.”

He huffs at that, shaking his head and sliding past her so he can get his other boxes. She has no worries about him hurting her and strangely she hadn’t even considered that he might hurt her until her mother had mentioned it. Besides, she knows just enough to never truly worry. He’s the boy who vomits when he gets angry - if he shouts he’ll end up curled around the toilet shaking with a fever. He’d never hit a soul and if he did, she can only imagine the penance his body would conjure up as punishment.

But he huffs and she hears it.

She jumps on his back as he’s setting his box down on the ground. He moves just a little, stumbling under their combined weight. “Emily,” he warns, doing his best to not react. He knows how she is. She wants him to get rough, to hook his arm under her leg and yank her around. If he acts unbothered she’ll leave him alone. She’s far too much like having a little sibling around again - a sobering and, yet, comforting notion.

She does get bored and quickly. “I’m gonna go see Eric,” she informs him, slipping down off his back. He grunts and it’s just the wrong sound and she falters for a moment. Aaron’s met Eric and she’d thought they got along well but… she’s started to second guess that a little more every time she mentions either to the other. “I’ll be back this afternoon,” she adds apprehensively. Catches on to move the conversation on and away from the subject of her boyfriend but she still finds herself hovering by his doorway. Chewing her lip and anxiously asking, “do you mind if I bring Eric Wednesday?”

He just looks down at the box he’s sorting through, back turned to her. He shakes his head, sighing, “I don’t care what you do Emily.” He does care, deeply, but he looks back at her for only a brief moment. Sad brown eyes begging with her to not push, to not make him talk about this more.

With a nod, the conversation is over.

Wednesday night he smokes the pot that Derek passes to him without a second thought. It’s been burned down to the last few puffs, the heat from the lit end burns his fingers tips but he still puts it to his lips. Pulls from what little remains of the blunt as if it’s oxygen itself, a mask over his face meant to level him out. Maybe it will. The heat sinks down into his lungs and he ends up doubled over, spit drooling over his lips. Laughter bubbles up around him and a hand rubs at his back, Emily, he knows but only by the way that her perfume stings his nose he tries to breathe through the assault.

“Give it here before it burns out--”

Emily takes the blunt from his fingers and passes it to Eric. He’s an asshole and they all hate him but they love Emily and if they want her around then they have to deal with him. It’s safer to have him here, where they can watch him. He won’t dare hurt her in front of them -- but is that not what he’s doing when he leaves bruises across her face like constellations? Sends her back to them so that they can dab makeup over the Milky Way and breathe reassurances over Orian’s Belt when she falls into a hug.

Emily pulls him back upright, guides his head to lilt to the side as he sags against her. He can feel Eric’s fingers near his collar, the possessive hand he keeps on Emily at all times. A silent reminder of the power he holds over them all. Emily kisses his temple, oblivious to the mental war happening on both sides of her.

Derek reaches over and smacks his thigh, and encouraging little maneuver he means to comfort Aaron with. Aaron has checked out, arms too heavy to push away from all the touching. Can’t worm out of Emily’s arms or Derek’s comforting hand on his leg. He feels nothing past the tip of his nose. Not Emily’s bones underneath his cheek, her body carved down by Eric’s harmful comments about her weight and the coke he supplies like it’s a love language. Not Derek’s hold on him, the fear he can’t express but feels deep within his churning stomach, that Aaron’s slipping away and they’re all just bystanders to his eventual suicide.

Thursday night he’s woken up by Emily sneaking into his room, the soft click of a glass of water being sat down on his nightstand and the clatter of pills finding their way beside it. She presses her fist into his sternum, applying pressure where he feels like he’s coming unraveled. It’s like her hands are grasping his strayed ends, holding him together like a shredded kite until she can pull the fabric halves back together. “Okay,” she breathes, failing to provide him with steeled calm. His heart is beating so hard against her hand she’s afraid to let go. Her understanding of medicine is narrowed to just knowing you’re not supposed to put a bandaid on a burn. Kids can still have heart attacks, maybe not the over-worked, a little heavy-set dad kind caused by blocked arteries but he’s got the stress level and something certainly isn’t right.

He wakes up alone, doesn’t remember when she left or if she came at all. His only clue is those pills sitting in the perspiration of the now lukewarm water on his nightstand. He can’t move just yet, force his hand out to obtain the pills but he’ll wake up again in a pain-filled haze moved only by such intense pain that he fears sitting still another moment will rip him in half. The pills are slimy as they sit on his tongue and leave their bitter medicine laced into the gulp of water he manages. He’ll turn back over onto his side, pull his knees to his chest, and hope he doesn’t throw them back up.

He writes an essay in the haze of the Rizatriptan six hours later. His brain is only half-working, thoughts jumbled together or not there at all. The migraine lingers, fingers made of cotton muffling the world in a spirling nothing. It’s a similar feeling to being high, the haze is just too much but he has to write this paper because his professor won’t give him another extension -- he would if he knew Aaron needed one but he’s already asked once so he won’t do it again.

Friday the panic sets in.

Everyone is watching him.

Nobody likes him.

Why is he here?

Starfished out on a picnic blanket, Emily is spending her Friday out of the apartment. Armed with a water bottle filled with Vodka, a quilt, and a cooler full of popsicles they stumble their way through the unplowed field behind campus. Spencer hates the bugs and he holds tightly to Emily’s belt, making sure to step where she does as they trample through the too-high grass. Like broken dolls, they fall onto the quilt, familiar with one another enough not to care how they land in the tangle of limbs.

“Emily?”

She hums, not opening her eyes. The sun will remain stubbornly risen for a few more minutes and until it sets she’s trying to soak in every second of its warmth. Until it falls behind the trees and they’re bathed in the moonlight.

“Do you want a drink?”

She opens her hand, holding it up in the general direction of Derek’s voice. The water bottle finds her palm, slightly warm from sitting in the sun and in their laps as it makes its rounds. It feels oddly light but she doesn’t comment. The vodka stings down her throat but it’s familiar and it’s nearly as warm as the sun itself falling down her body.

“Where’s Hotch?”

She passes it to Penelope before laying back down, closing her eyes. “His psychiatrist put him on -” suddenly she can’t remember what it’s called. “Clom-something --”

Spencer looks up, understands this is a place for him to jump in. He feels overwhelmed with his excitement as he helpfully adds, “clomipramine! It’s a selective serotonin reuptake inhibitor, SSRI is the short-hand. It increases levels of serotonin in the brain.” He shifts himself, turning closer to them and away from where he’d been watching the blanket's edge for potential bugs trying to crawl near him. “It has the same side-effects as most SSRIs: drowsiness, intestinal upsets, decreased libido, changes in appetite--”

“Woah!” Derek sits up, suddenly paying attention. His eyebrows are scrunched together, alarmed. “He can’t… He won’t be able to like get it up?” He looks at Spencer and then at Emily. “That’s what libido means, man. How’s not being able to have sex going to help him not get all… gummed in the gears? Stuck in his head?” Aaron’s having a hard enough time, it hardly feels like ruining his sex life is the solution to that.

Spencer shakes his head, trying to understand how they’ve moved from facts about antidepressants to Hotch’s sex drive. “What?” If he took a second to think about it, he’d be blushing too hard to even bother with that statement. “No, the brain--”

“Spence,” Emily warns softly. Hotch might not be here to stop them from talking about his sex life but she is and she doesn’t want to talk about it. Besides, it’s none of their business. They’ve seen how bad things can get. “Hotch is basically a nun,” she reminds them. And it’s true. Before anyone diagnosed him, before he even knew something was wrong he wasn’t nearly as adventurous as her or Derek. “He didn’t come today because despite the--” she motions at Spencer.

“The clomipramine,” he supplies.

“Yes, the that, it doesn't work. He has a new psychiatrist, though, and he wants to run through some old stuff again.” She shakes her head, “a stronger dosage and a better plan. I don’t know, I guess we’ll know in another month. He’ll either end up in the hospital again or he’ll be fine.” She shrugs, “right now he’s locked himself in his room.”

There’s a low murmur of understanding and Spencer’s eyes go back to the edge of the blanket. They all remember what happened the last time he had to change medications. Emily had called JJ, the dead of the night making their intensely private and scary conversation seeping with the darkness’s own mixed intensities. Aaron had taken some bad drugs from a guy he didn’t even know, stumbled home, and passed out in his and Emily’s apartment bathroom. Where she found him seizing, choking on his vomit.

They didn’t and couldn’t see him for seventy-two hours, the mandatory hold from the hospital because they ruled it an attempted suicide and Aaron didn’t even try to put up a fight and say it was something else.

Friday night when she stumbles home he isn’t there.

His room is empty -- bedsheets are thrown back as if he left in a rush and his desk lamp still on. She feels that fear sink back into her, throat tight and mind racing, but the bathroom door is open, his pills still meticulously organized in the cabinet over the sink. Even his toothbrush is in the dish. So wherever he is, he won’t be gone long. She stills warns the others, asks them to look out for him or to, at the very least, expect his imminent arrival.

Derek offers to drive around and look for him.

Emily lets him do it, give him something to do -- he would have done it even if she told him it was unnecessary. She’s fairly certain she knows where he is.

Sure enough, she gets the call Monday morning at 7:30.

He does this every once in a while. As often as he can without them enforcing a longer hold, without it going on some sort of record that might prohibit getting a job. She doesn’t really understand why. He hates the mental hospital. Complains that it’s freezing cold and he hates the entire function and yet, here she is spending her Monday morning picking him up. This makes only about the fourth time since she’s known him but how many times has he just made the decision to walk? How many times hasn’t he called her to pick him up?

“You have got to stop walking here.” She rolls the window down first, shouting out at him as she pulls to a stop. He looks better than he had Friday morning when she invited him out to the field with the rest of them. She’d barely managed to get him to sit up, feeding pills between his pale lips, and then pulling his blanket back up over his shoulders. Shutting the blinds and leaving him a glass of water. Maybe she should have just offered to take him then, she’d known with hindsight this is where he would be.

He opens the backdoor without saying a word, crawls into the backseat, and curls up across the seats. He’s wearing a sweatshirt they must have given him, shoes not even on just held by the tips of his curled fingers. They land with a thud on the floor and all the response she gets is a pair of grippy socks landing on her passenger seat, the wordless thanks for picking him up… again.

“Class or home?” she asks, pulling out of the parking lot.

“Class.”

She did bring his bookbag with her, it’s sitting on the floor beside her own, but she will not be taking him to class. He recognizes that when she pulls out of the exit when she turns left instead of right. He grunts but doesn’t say anything, opting to curl further into himself. Protecting his head from an unseen threat.

The rest is practice. He’s foggy from the medicine they give him, always something different from what he’s taken. It’s meant to bring him down, strengthen his haze, and keep him calm. To shut his mind up -- and it’s good, it really does work. It just makes him so exhausted.

“Get your big butt--” Emily has to help him get into his bed and just as he’s about to apologize -- mouth hung open and his eyes squinting as he tries to force sluggish thoughts through a brain that hasn’t worked in days -- she climbs up after him.

His head hits the pillow and his mind goes blank, can’t even form the “I’m sorry” trying to trip its way out of his mouth.

Within seconds she’s laying down beside him, wiggling down under the covers and pulling them up over them. “Derek was pretty pissed you left again without telling us,” she whispers. It takes her a moment but she leans back up and pulls the blinds down, shuts the light from outside from coming in. Then she’s right back beside him, head on his chest. “You’ve got to stop doing that, Aaron. It’s-- It’s--” cruel.

Breathlessly he whispers, “sorry.” It’s all he can manage, drugs still heavy in his bloodstream and eyes forced shut, to move his hand to her back. To try and convey more than what he’s capable of with words that he didn’t mean to scare her. He just scared himself.

She turns her face into his sweatshirt and lets out a little sob, holding onto him. “I think I’m going to break up with Eric.” She’d come up with a thousand reasons Aaron would have disappeared, even as logic dictated where she knew he was. Her fear covered everything until she was sat wondering if she was making things worse for Aaron. His anxiety and migraines and everything else. Was she adding to his stresses or helping?

Coming home and having to ask him to relive parts of his childhood for her… Having him dab foundation over her bruises with his tremoring hands knowing he was thinking about his mother. That he was thinking about doing this exact exercise on himself, covering bruises his father left across his own face. Dabbing blood away and whispering empty, useless promises.

“Okay,” he whispers.

His mother had offered him that same lie a thousand times. She’d drawn lines in the sand and washed them away the next morning with the reconstruction of a wave -- thin cold fingers touching a bruise and asking what happened. As if she hadn’t watched. As if she hadn’t picked him up off the floor and hidden him away in his room, draping her body over his.

“I mean it,” she whispers, her tone mixed with conviction she doesn’t have.

“I know.” He’ll pretend to not remember this conversation when she goes bar crawling with Eric Thursday night. He’ll avoid the other’s eyes when they look at him for some sort of explanation, why she’s taken by her promise this time. But for now, he’s tired and he’s warm and he feels safe. He’ll call Spencer and Penelope later and apologize for blowing off the plans they had to watch Doctor Who, act like they all don’t know where he’s been.

“I love you.”

He squeezes her hips, gives in to his exhaustion. “I love you too.”

[doublekrecs]

More Than Physics

Spencer Reid x reader

Synopsis: you notice your ta in the library and ask him for a lesson in physics to which you pay him back with pizza and a lesson in sex

Warnings: smut (no p in v action), oral (male receiving), mutual masturbation

a/n: sorry this took so long, it’s been quite a week. but i'm thinking of making this a series depending on if you like it. anyways, i hope enjoy my angels! -🧞‍♀️

also thank you guys for 400 followers!! the love means everything to us:)

part 2

They always say life just blows right past you. Which you used to think was a load of bullshit, but now on your last year of college you’re sitting in the library on the verge of tears over your physics class, reminiscing on a time long ago when freshman year you was most likely at some frat party grinding up on some beefy blond named Steve. 

You let out a loud sigh, looking around to make sure you weren’t disrupting anyone. You weren’t. The library was almost completely empty, besides just you there was a small group of people actively note taking with highlighters scattered around the table and the biggest cups of what you assumed to be coffee. Looking over to your left you saw an oddly familiar mop of curly brown hair nose deep in a thick book. Wait it was Spencer.

He was the TA for your physics class, always enthusiastic and ready to help anyone. You honestly thought he was just happy anyone was willing to listen to his rambles. From what you’ve seen he was humble for being such a genius and seemed like a really sweet guy. Always flashing you a kind smile and opening doors for anyone around him. 

Which is why you felt a sense of relief wash over you when you saw him. You had been struggling with this unit in class and no method of studying had been helping you retain knowledge. So what better way to get help than from the resident genius himself. 

You packed your stuff and made your way over to the table he set camp at. Loads of novels you couldn’t imagine yourself reading sat in stacks next to him. You tapped him on the shoulder to which he flinched after being taken out of the fantasy world he was immersed in. Looking up he offered you the same kind smile as always before whispering, “Oh hi y/n.” 

“Hey Spencer” you smiled back.

He moved a stack of books off of the chair next to his offering you a place to sit. You set your stuff down and his eyes went to the physics book in front of you. 

“How's the studying going?” he asked, putting his full attention on you. One thing about him you always admired was the way he really listened to people. No matter who it was he always made people feel heard. 

“Not so good” he frowned at the sad tone in your voice, “But I was hoping that a certain TA would be able to spare a fellow peer some help” you looked at him with pleading eyes.

“Of course, what do you need?” 

You guys had spent the better part of two hours with him helping you set up notes and explaining certain topics to the best of his ability. You noticed him yawn and check his watch. “What time is it,” you asked, trying to suppress a yawn of your own. 

“Just hit 11, the library closes in 30 minutes if you wanna stay and finish up,” he said, stretching his back out from sitting for so long. 

“No, I think we’ve done enough work for today.” You both started to pack your stuff up, making small talk as you walked out of the building. 

“Hey Spence,” he stopped walking and turned to look at you, “I really wanna thank you for all your help today. Is there any way I can repay you for this? OH! I can take you to dinner, we can go to the little pizza place around the corner. It's on me,” you offered nodding with a wide smile. 

He smiled back at your enthusiasm, “You really don’t have to thank me, I'm glad I was able to help. But I won’t say no to a slice of pizza.” 

You led him to the little spot off campus, which he of course opened the door for you. The waiter took you to a little booth where you both ordered a soda before skimming the menu. The place was cute, very homey with warm lights and oldies playing softly in the back. There was a comfortable silence before the waiter came back and took your orders. 

Spencer was very easy to talk to as he had knowledge on all topics. However you wanted to know more about him personally. So you suggested a game. Never have I ever. Yes it was childish but hey, all good friendships have to start somewhere. 

“Ok I’ll start with an example and you put a finger down if you’ve done it.” he nodded taking a bite of his pizza. You took a second to think of where to begin, “Alright never have I ever gone skinny dipping,” you stated and his eyes widened a little bit. 

He shook his head no as you encouraged him to ask a question. “Um never have I ever failed a class.” 

“Spence no,” he frowned. “This is supposed to be fun, ask risky questions c’mon don’t be shy,” you looked at him encouragingly, “what happens at the booth stays in the booth,” you said tapping on the table for emphasis.

He took your words to heart as he waited a while trying to come up with a question. “Alright, never have I ever had more than 4 partners.” you put a finger down and looked at him confused. “How many people have you dated?” he took a sip of his coke before replying, “just one.” 

“Huh,” “What?” 

“C’mon Spence you’re telling me a genius like you doesn’t have girls lined up around the corner” you said raising a suggestive eyebrow. He giggled and shook his head no looking down. 

_

The game continued but keeping track of fingers was forgotten. Pizza was long gone and the bill was paid, now it was just you guys enjoying each others company.  It was obvious Spencer was breaking out of his comfort zone as the questions kept on getting riskier. Which is how you got into the topic of sex. You had found out that apparently he had almost no experience in any of it. 

“Y/n I just don’t see what the big deal is. I mean I do ya know.. get off, so what's the point,” he said playing with his napkin. You could tell he was a little embarrassed at the admission by the tinge of pink on his cheeks. 

“The point is that sex is normal and fun and something you should be experiencing.” 

“I don’t know. I just don’t wanna have one night with a stranger then be laughed at for being inexperienced.” 

Suddenly a lightbulb appeared above your head. 

“Spencer I have an idea. And please just hear me out,” he looked at you wearily before you continued, “let me tutor you in sex stuff.”

You swear he was gonna explode at how red he was, mouth gaping like a fish out of water trying to find words to respond. 

“Listen, you spent the night helping me with something I struggle in. Let me help you with something you’re struggling in. And it could be fun, ya know just some stress relief and you get to learn some new skills.” 

Spencer was taken back by your offer. He really wanted to accept, I mean come on it's not everyday a pretty girl just offers you to have sex with her. Let alone buy you pizza beforehand. 

You might have looked collected on the outside, sipping on your dr.pepper, giving Spencer time to answer but on the inside you were a mess. What if you had pushed him too far. Why did you think it was a good idea to just offer up something like that. Your thoughts were cut off by a voice in front of you speaking up. 

“Yeah.. Let's do it.” Now you were the one gaping like s fish. But you quickly recomposed yourself. 

You looked at him with a devilish smile, reaching over the table to grab his hand. “Well then Spence, let’s go shall we?” He laced your fingers together as you got up, matching your smile. 

_

In no time you were in your dorm after the brisk walk. Little conversation was made and you were starting to think maybe he was starting to regret agreeing. Unlocking the door you looked over at him nervously biting his pink lip, something you’d like to do. “You can just come in and we can watch a movie if you want. I don’t wanna pressure you into anything.” 

He looked over at you, big brown eyes gazing softly into yours, “I really wanna do this. Please.” 

“Alright pretty boy make yourself comfortable we’ll start off easy.”

You guided him to sit on your couch as you sat next to him. There was a moment of silence where you both just looked from each other's eyes to lips longingly. Neither were sure who leaned in first but your lips met in the middle, calm at first before the storm. His hands went to grasp the sides of your face, pulling you further into him. You took the time to adjust and settle on his lap, one hand on his shoulder while the other nested in his hair, causing him to let a groan in your mouth when you tugged it slightly. You’d save that for another time.

The time came for you both to pull away for air. His forehead resting on yours as you caught your breath. 

“As great as that was,” you said punctuating with a kiss. He tried to chase your lips as you pulled away to continue talking. “You can move your hands, I won’t break. Nowhere is out of bounds,” you said nodding encouragingly. 

His hands were warm, moving down slowly to your hips. You leaned back in, this time the kisses were slower but held the same desire. Again his hands stayed in the same place so you put yours over his and guided them up and down. He gained some confidence after you let go, his hands now straying to your ass giving it a squeeze. You could feel the smile on his lips at the gasp you let out. 

Making out soon led to desperate whimpers and a steady grind of trying to gain more friction. The feel of him hardening beneath you made you moan as the thin fabric of the leggings you were wearing did little to nothing to conceal it. You pulled away to start pressing wet kisses to his neck. You knew you had found his sweet spot under his ear when he shuddered. Your hand went down to palm him over his pants. Spencer jolted at the touch. 

“Fuck y/n,” he let out as a soft sigh. You took the opportunity to unzip his pants. Looking into his auburn eyes for confirmation to keep going he gave a silent nod, prompting you to take him out of his pants. It was pretty and pink, already weeping with precum you couldn’t wait to get your mouth on. Wasting no time you used your thumb to swipe some off to use as lubricant to start pumping his shaft. 

You went down to a spot between his knees, taking his hand in yours to set in your hair. He seemed to catch on quick as he pushed some out of your face to see your pretty eyes looking up at him while you sucked him off.  Under his soft exterior, shockingly Spencer swore like a sailor. Letting out constant “shit you’re so good” or a long “fuck” under his breath. 

You could tell he was getting close by the way you felt his cock throbbing. You stopped sucking, instead using your hand to keep stimulating him as you said, “It’s alright Spence you’re doing so good for me. Where do you wanna cum?” His eyes shifting down to your low cut v-neck said it all. You motioned for him to replace your hand with his own, quickly discarding the shirt leaving you in a pretty lacy bra. He was confused as to what you were doing when you started to pull off your leggings, but as your hand slipped down into your matching panties things started clicking. 

You were already worked up from the heavy touching and listening to his groans that it was easy for you to slip a finger into your wet heat, letting out a moan at the feeling. His eyes kept on roaming all over your body. The sight of your chest heaving and the glistening between your thighs was enough to set him off. 

You added another finger and matched the pace he was pumping himself at. Not taking your eyes off his hands, so big and veiny. 

“Ah Spencer, I'm so close baby. Please cum with me,” you let out along with little whimpers. Hearing his name on your lips was his end as his orgasm washed over him. Ropes of his cum spilling over his palm. Your release came soon after, rubbing your clit, gasping at the tightness in your tummy bursting. 

You both calmed down and met each other's gaze with a soft smile. Picking up your t-shirt you told him to stay put as you went to grab a towel for him to clean up. “So, not bad for our first ‘lesson’, you said walking back and sitting next to him. 

His cheeks were tinted pink from seeing how exposed you were in front of him but he had the courage to respond, “Not bad at all. I can’t wait for what else you can show me.”

[nohoney]

Hi hi! I love your Us series so much! It’s been a while since I came across it and I remembered how much I love it! 💕

2 questions I wanna ask about something’s I’m wondering about and your take on them.

Do you think there will come a time where MC comes to their senses and decides to leave? It doesn’t seem realistic for the series because they are so rooted there, I think it would be extremely hard to leave. They don’t treat them bad but they’re also not healthy for them.

What would happen or more like what would Keigo and Touya do if MC ever decides to leave?

Anyway, thank you for updating and taking the time to write. I really appreciate it 💕

Aw I’m glad you love it, it always gets me all flustered when the us series get appreciation 😖

So to answer...

1. the reader definitely has the sense in her that what she’s in is not exactly something completely ‘healthy’ and she knows when she’s in a particular situation it’s because of touya but then Keigo kinda swoops in to cover everything up until everything feels like it’s calmed down. as much as Touya is the source of her love & devotion, he is definitely the main stressor sometimes when she worries more about his reaction to things rather than her own well-being. And touya knows that he can only do so much to make her stay so having Keigo around offsets the chances of her leaving since he’s more sensitive & gentle with the reader. I think the chances of the reader leaving are very very low...

2. But on the off chance she reaches that small fraction where she does try to put her foot down to leave... i think we all know there’d probably be no way for the boys to accept the reader leaving. She hopes it could go down a peaceful way. So maybe... an honest face to face break up?

Scenario below the cut!

Warning: drug use/drugging, unhealthy relationship, codependence, manipulation, slight dubcon

You just have to be uncomfortable just for a moment while Keigo goes to fetch drinks from the kitchen. Touya keeps a straight face while you speak across from at the dining table, trying to reassure him that you don’t want to part on bad terms and that you just need to do what’s best for yourself, you’re talking about wanting to find your independence again and needing to figure things out on your own and all that stupid crap. Words of conviction that neither of them are going to accept from you, that you don’t know what you’re talking about and you need them.

They could tell immediately when you had started to try to pull away, could see that glazed off look in your eye as your mind wanders. Your smiles more reluctant, your affection waning, that sad look you had looking off into the distance, they thought it was depression at first. Keigo counts himself fortunate to have found you sitting with a friend a week ago on the patio dining of a restaurant, hiding himself just in time before you or your companion could see him. He had leaned in a little closer and his heart broke upon hearing you tell your friend, “I think I need to get away from them... Dabi and Keigo.”

Oh how Touya threw a fit when Keigo reported back to him, having the good sense to take him to an abandoned lot to tell him what he heard. Touya yelled, saying that he’s giving you everything he could give and you have the audacity, the motherfuckin’ audacity to think you could leave. His sanity is all on you and you leaving would make him lose his fucking mind. But Keigo was calm, he hushed Touya who damn near breaks down and is about to punch through the window of his car and tells him that he’s got it figured out.

“She’s ours, she just needs to be reminded.”

Your tolerance had gotten better with what you’re willing to take but that doesn’t mean that being careful is thrown out the window.

You’re banned from mixing ever since that first party where you locked yourself in a room with half a gram of coke and an ecstasy tablet, but Keigo is careful with you because he cares about you, he loves you. Just a sprinkle, like a pinch of salt, added to your drink and Keigo gives you a little extra pour of sweet syrup in your drink.

Ketamine which makes you trip and MDMA which makes you roll, and a trip plus a roll makes a flip. Your first flip ever was molly and coke and you don’t even know that you’re about to get your second; you’re about to have your first kitty flip.

Touya could have been mean and just gave you rohypnol but as angry as he was at you for wanting to break up, he still wanted you to feel good.

You finish half the drink when your eyes get the tranced over look and your voice drifts off, Touya reaching for your cup so that you don’t drink anymore. He drinks from his own cup, just the virgin version of what Keigo served you and he asks, “What were you talking about doll?”

“I uh... I don’t know what I...” you sway a little in your seat and you try to recall what was the subject you were speaking of a few minutes ago. “Touya... I don’t...”

They wait patiently as you struggle for your words.

And Keigo knows exactly what to do, gently cupping your cheek to direct you to look at him. You’re a helpless little doe at this moment and out there are the wolves wanting to feast on you, but not them, not Keigo or Touya... they’re not your predators.

They’re your protector.

“Pretty dove, do you love us?” Keigo asks you, watching carefully how you try to process his question.

“C-Course I do... never said tha’ I stopped, I just’ want...” you slur out as you reach one hand out to touch his cheek, trying to make sure he’s real. He wonders what you’re seeing right now and how he looks in your eyes. “Can I lie down?”

You collapse in Keigo’s arms, whining about some dress you should have bought at a boutique you visited not too long ago and then you stare at your own hands when Keigo lays you down on the floor, though you don’t bother to describe what exactly you’re seeing as you stare into your palms.

And Touya kisses you tenderly, just barely skims the tips of his fingers over your arm and you purr in pleasure. Unlike your first hallucinogenic trip which left you in an extremely anxious state, you seem to be perfectly balanced this time. Keigo is grateful that he mixed the right amount and you consumed not too much and not too little. You crawl to different areas of the room, muttering to yourself and can barely keep a conversation with either of the boys while they keep watch. But it’s not necessary for any conversation to be had, there’s no need for any talking because there’s nothing to talk about.

You ask for kisses, you ask to be touched, you ask if you’re loved, all requests that they’re willing to fulfill but on one condition: “You gonna stay with us (Name)?”

“Y-yeah, wanna stay with... be with ya, just c’mere... ‘M lonely.”

“Oh now you’re lonely? What happened to all that independent talk?”

“I don’t... Not s-sure, jus’ come here now.”

Needy little moans fall from your lips as they touch you, kisses to your neck and further down, despite your glazed eyes your fingers reach for one of the boys’ belts but they stop you. “You’re not getting fucked baby.”

“I want it!” You whine, almost ready to throw a tantrum but all it takes is just a hand in your hair, grabbing at the roots and slowly it clenches into a fist and tugs at the roots. A pleasant pull that makes your eyes roll to the back of your head and your back arches. Just a little hair pull and you’re so compliant. Your reaction is tempting but they know better than to fuck you when you won’t remember it the next day.

They would never.

All they want is for you to stay right where you are.

And you wake the next day in between Touya and Keigo, recognizing the symptoms of a come down but with no memory of the day before and you know that your memory loss has something to do with them. “What happened?”

Your body is exhausted, your brain is fried, you remember sitting down with the boys yesterday and talking about breaking up and then... nothing.

When you try to get out the bed, Touya’s hand reaches out to grab your arm and you’re pulled back down on the bed. He’s awake and making you lie back with them, his hand gentle as the pad of his thumb strokes your cheek so lovingly. Keigo nuzzles right next to you, a soft mumble of, “Stay baby bird...”

“You guys... what did you give-” you start to speak but Touya cuts you off.

��If it were anyone else, you probably would have woken up behind a dumpster ya know.”

Be grateful to us, we treat you better than anyone ever could.

You should be angry at them, furious that they’d violate your trust and lace your drink or food with whatever they gave you, that they gave you the ultimate reason to leave because if you love someone you don’t fucking drug them. And yet you know that whatever they gave you yesterday is a warning, probably the kindest warning you’ll ever get from them.

“Still love us?”

You play it over in your mind, that any other person probably would have taken advantage of your vulnerability but not them. Not Touya and Keigo who love you most ardently and have always looked out for you no matter what. There’s no talks of breaking up, there will be no talks of breaking up, they know you’re smart enough to understand the meaning behind their actions.

So you accept the cage they’ve put you in.

“Yeah... I love you.”

“We love you too.”

[footballcloud]

Like Old Times - Anyone You’d Like

this is the first thing I’ve written in about a year now, but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless. I’m not sure how frequently I’ll post things and some might be longer than other. Happy reading my lovelies! Tell me who you imagined it with! xx

"I don't understand how someone could be on 'good terms' with an ex", your friend piped up, putting the phrase 'good terms' in air quotations, when the topic of your most recent relationship popped up in conversation. You playfully rolled your eyes given that she'd told you that a billion times already, along with several other people, but it wasn’t like the break up was messy. You two were still civil, there wasn’t any tension between you. So why couldn’t the two of you stay friends? "I don't feel the need to make an enemy out of every ex I have", you replied, earning a laugh from the other girls as you threw a wink her way since she had a reputation to be a bit of a firecracker, and everyone knew it.

"If this cocktail wasn't so damn expensive, you'd be wearing it", she retorted as you shot her a look as if to say 'yeah right'. She wasn't wrong about you still getting on with your ex though. He was still very much a part of your life. You'd text him good luck occasionally on a match day if it was a particularly big game, or if he'd scored, you even had notifications for his team turned on on your phone to see how they were getting on. His parents even sent you a card a bouquet of flowers for your birthday a few weeks ago. He became integrated into part of your routine and you didn't want to offset it. Clearly your girls were against it though, they were never a huge fan of his in the first place. Saying you could do better. Saying he wasn't the one. Saying that whilst keeping little rituals like that in your life was lovely and all, that you'd never get over him - but you were over him. Definitely. Nevertheless, they supported you through the breakup as if they'd never said a bad word about him. Although, you couldn't miss the unimpressed faces they pulled when he walked into the club with his a couple of teammates.

"What's he doing here?" One of them were quick to comment as he made his way in the direction of the bar to get in a round of drinks. "Probably come to celebrate the win", you struggled and diverted your eyes away from him in a desperate attempt to avoid eye contact, that was the last thing you needed to throw you off the flow of a good night. "Of course you'd know", another one of your girls piped up and elbowed you in the ribbed mockingly, making your group laugh once again.

"I think it's mine turn to get drinks in, who wants what?" You slid out of the booth and grabbed your clutch from beside you. Your friends weren’t stupid, they knew exactly why you were so eager to get the drinks in but there was only so many times they could tell you that you weren’t right for each other.

"Passion fruit martini please" "Make that two!" "Vodka cranberry" "I think I'll pass this time, thanks" "Mines a rum and coke"

You nodded in an attempt to look like you'd remember what they'd just told you, but the second you properly laid eyes on him at the bar, their orders fell out your head almost instantly. He looked as good as he did the day you two broke it off. Dark ripped jeans, dark shirt with the top few buttons undone and sleeves cuffed a couple of times to show his arms that were glazed with a rich tan from his Dubai holiday that you'd seen plastered across his social media a few week ago, paired with silver watch that he'd bought himself last Christmas on his left wrist and grey trainers with hair styled neatly like it always was.

'Jesus Christ, keep your shit together', you scolded yourself for staring for too long but before you could tear your gaze away from him, he'd caught you in the act.

"You haven't change a bit, darling", a smug grin appeared on his face, using your pet name that you hadn't heard in months, as he rested a hand on your back, making you suddenly deeply regret your choice to wear a backless dress when you jolted under his warm touch. "Looking gorgeous, as ever", he added and leaned down a little further meaning you could smell the familiar scent of his cologne and fabric softer of his shirt when you inhaled heavily to compose yourself. You’d intended on going over to him, but the thought process hadn’t got as far as to what you were going to say to him, nor did you know why you felt the need to interrupt your girls night out to see him.

"Thank you, congrats on the win this afternoon", you replied, thanking him for his compliment that could have easily been mistaken for a flirty comment. ‘You haven’t changed either’, you thought when his arms tenced slightly when he leaned against the bar, allowing yourself a subtle glance over him - but eager to not fall for his charm a second time so changed the topic of conversation quickly. "Thanks, darling. How have you been?" You made polite conversation for a while, just like old times. With the drinks order for your group of friends long forgotten and presumably the same for him, you made your way outside with him as he guided you through a back exit, his hand still on your back.

"Seeing anyone new?" He asked out of the blue, initiating a conversation that you really didn't want to discuss with him and it confused you as to why he'd brought up the topic all of a sudden. "Nope, not been seeing anyone for months", you popped the 'p' on nope. Your response made him raise his eyebrows at you, pulling an expression that, even after an 18 month long relationship, you couldn't read what it meant. You weren’t going to tell him that he was in fact the last person you’d seen as that might give off the wrong message that you weren’t over him.

"What about you? Surely you've had girls practically throwing themselves at you?" You scoff involuntarily, sounding overly bitter. Yuck.  Clearly your comment caught him off guard because it was one of the few times his cool, calm demeanour had flaked away, resulting in you looking flustered. "No one actually, how could I when I see pictures on your Instagram of you looking that good". He eyed you up and down, shamelessly flirting with you, passing the flustered feeling over to you as you shifted under his gaze for a second as he took in your appearance better than he could when you were in the club. Strappy heels that he knew hurt your feet but made your legs look incredible, that short backless dress that he'd be thinking of taking off you since the second he laid eyes on you, hair curled at the ends so it bounced below your shoulders blades and light makeup, because you had no one to impress - or so you thought when you left your apartment.

"If you didn't like it, you know where the unfollow button is", you told him, trying not to sound defensive. "Who said I didn't like it?" He was quick to throw back his response with his signature smile plastered on his face, the same smile that had you falling for him the first time. Whilst you mustered up something to say, he began to lean in closer again allowing you to inhale the same familiar mixture of scents that intoxicated you less than an hour ago. You watched his eyes flutter shut with parted lips as his head tilted to the side, it was a natural reaction of yours to mirror his actions as you leaned in closer too. His hand on your back pressed more firmly against it to pull you closer whilst one of yours instinctively went to run through his hair and then settle on the back of his neck. The kiss was tentative, neither of you really wanted to take control in fear of losing the other one again.

“I’ve missed this”, he said as he continued to move his lips against yours, snaking his hand round to rest on your waist. You pulled away from his abruptly after that and leant your forehead on his. “Don’t say or do anything you might regret. It’s the alcohol talking”, you stated and looked at him, lips almost touching again. “You saw me walk in, I’ve not had a drink all night”, he told you and pulled away so the warmth of his body no longer comforted you as the atmosphere around you both suddenly became heavy. He was right though. You were the only one that was intoxicated after a few shots and two cocktails.

“I want you back”, he confirmed bluntly and tried to make eye contact with you but you denied him. “Okay - but we need to talk about this, not here”, you gestured to him, he nodded in agreement as a group of people stumbled out of the door, after clearly consuming more alcohol than they could handle. It had also started to drizzle slightly, the moisture weighing down the loose curls in your hair. “Come back to mine? Please?” His gaze still on you when you met his eyes but were deep in thought given his invitation. You weren’t prepared to let him smooth talk you into his bed like you knew he was capable of doing, and catch feelings again, only resulting in you tearing yourself apart again when he dips out of your life. Over the months that you’d been apart, you’d learnt your own worth - he wasn’t going to have you that easily.

“Okay”, you nodded as a grin appeared on his face. “But only to talk”, you added making him laugh and sling an arm round your shoulder. “Of course, babe. What else?” He raised an eyebrow at you and threw you a cheek wink before knocking on the window of a taxi that was parked nearby. “Have I told you how good you look in that dress?” You jabbed him in the ribs and rolled yours eyes, hoping that the dim streetlights would hide your blushes. “Don’t you dare say what I know you going to!” You warned him, knowing he was going to make a comment about how he thought the dress would look better on his bed room floor. He threw his head back as a laugh left his lips whilst a hand casually fell onto your thigh when he sat down next to you, just like it had done hundreds of times before. You laced your fingers over his, content with the company you were in.

[nerdified]

Procedural Notes: Patient #3 (FKA Hugo Jensen)

NOTE: [At the time of this audio recording, Mr. Hugo Jensen (NKA Norville Nerdlinger) has just begun the process, and is restrained. The identity of the speaker is unknown. This transcript is reproduced here in order to assist with identification of this man, who has since disappeared, absconding with an undisclosed amount of the process agonist. Efforts to locate him have, to date, been fruitless. If anyone knows anything about this man or his whereabouts, please report the information to Central Command.]

[BEGIN TRANSCRIPT]

Quiet, now. It’s no use struggling.

I’m not going to hurt you. Quite the opposite.

I see that look in your eyes, like you don’t think I could hurt you. You’re probably right. I’m not much of a fighter. But I know what you think of me, and other guys like me. I’ve been listening to you on the phone, you know. Hacked your telecommunications. What was it that you called me, on that call with the client yesterday?

Oh, yes, I remember. A walking pocket protector. I’ll admit, that was a new one for me. I’ve had “pencil-neck” and “four-eyes” and the good old-fashioned “nerd” lobbed at me before, but “walking pocket-protector”… Heck, it’s got a little poetry to it!

Shh. I know, it feels strange. It’s a little unsettling, at first, I’ll agree. But you’ll get used to it. It’ll go easier for you if you just relax and quit fighting it. In time, you’ll even begin to like it.

I’m sorry about the gag. Unfortunately, it’s just the beginning of the process, so I have to leave it in for…twenty-three more minutes, at least, if my calculations are correct.

Ha! Who am I kidding – my calculations are always correct.

I can see from your eyes that you hate my guts right now. That, too, will change.

You see, what’s about to happen to you isn’t out of the ordinary, or even very noteworthy. As far as I can tell, it happens to a lot of guys, especially those that zip through their twenties and then hit that speed bump called thirty, bank accounts empty and career opportunities shot. Those of us who didn’t win the genetic lottery couldn’t get by just on our looks and our charisma, like you did.

I remember how it felt when I was in high school, and guys like you were all A+ students and perfect jocks, too… gosh, it’s enough to make me swear.

But no. You couldn’t leave well enough alone. You couldn’t just be a jock, be good at sports, and leave the academics to the rest of us. We didn’t ask for much, you know. We just wanted to be left alone in our science labs, and in our tutorials, in our lives.

There's no escaping guys like you. You’re everywhere, and you’re spreading. For a time, we ignored it. Figured it was some kind of anomaly. But it wasn’t – it was a trend. And despite the fact that we didn’t see it coming, we are now prepared for its end.

Like I mentioned – it won’t surprise most people to see you change. Maybe a few of your close friends will worry about you. Express some concern. But by that point, you’ll already have accepted your new self. You’ll be able to say “This is just who I am,” and it’ll be their choice how to proceed. That’s a side benefit, by the way, of the process. You get to find out who your real friends are – and, spoiler alert: they’re not exactly big football fans.

You have to be prepared for some major shake-up in your life, though. The good thing about the process is that it won’t faze you in the slightest. Everything will be gee-whiz gosh-darn super-duper spiffy keen neat-o, if anyone asks, and for you, it will be.

Now, I know those terms are a little outdated. We’ve had to make a bit of an adjustment to the process in your case. The earlier version wasn’t quite strong enough for you, so we’ve had to over-compensate in a few directions. You won’t just be a little bit nerdy, you know, a couple of odd quirks, some new hobbies. For example, Derek – well, that’s his dead name, he goes by Derwood now – Derwood can sometimes get by in normal society. He even kept a few of his old friends. He’s just more into things like superhero movies, and he’s left behind all knowledge or passion for sports. I think I even saw him reading a comic book the other day, come to think of it.

But that’s not going to be you. Oh, sure, you might develop a taste for superhero movies, but if you do, it won’t just be a passing interest. You’ll become a rabid fan. I believe…obsessive…is the operative word, in fact. Yes, you see, that earlier version of the process would have worn off, and you’d have been back to your old self in no time, which would wreak havoc on your psyche, not to mention put our entire operation in jeopardy. We can’t have that.

It looks like some time has passed, but not quite enough for me to remove the gag yet. Do you feel your perfect white teeth shifting around in your gums, almost impatiently? Nod once for yes.

You don’t have to nod at all, not if you don’t want to. I don’t need you to confirm for me what I can already see happening in your eyes. Speaking of your eyes – how’s your vision? I can see you starting to squint every now and then. Trying to see past that blur? Don’t worry. I’ve already got your glasses, right here, for when it gets too bad for you to see. Talk about your Coke-bottle lenses - my calculations again predict that you’ll settle somewhere around…hm…negative six diopters, which is even worse than mine.

To put it simply: you won’t even be able to read the big E on the eye chart without your glasses on.

I know, you’ve never been to the optometrist in your life. You never needed to. And don’t think about getting contact lenses, either. I mean, go ahead and try, if you really want to embarrass yourself.

Oh, I can see it now: timid, nerdy little guy like you, shuffling into the doctor’s office – you say you want to get contact lenses, and they get you in the back for a fitting. They show you how to do it, you know, hold your eyelids apart and then just plop the lens on there. But you have to do it three times before they’ll let you leave with them, and you won’t even be able to get one in, because you’ll keep blinking it out. I wish I could be there to see it, honestly – you, all frustrated, trying to swear, but only able to say things like “Fudge!” and “Gosh darn it!”

It’ll be so beautiful. I’m getting teary just thinking about it.

I’m glad you’re starting to settle down a bit. Let me know when you need your glasses. Maybe while we wait, I’ll get started on your hair. That trendy fade has got to go, and so does that scruff on your face. At the start, you’ll have to shave a lot, but as the process continues, you’ll start producing more of a 5-alpha reductase enzyme. This will convert your testosterone into dihydrotestosterone, or DHT, which will actually miniaturize your follicles. Kind of like using a shrink ray on them! Oh, and there will be no taking of inhibitors, like finasteride or anything like that – our process contains a potent agonist, with an affinity of 0.25 to 0.5 nM for the human androgen receptor.

It’s all very scientific, I assure you. And with the miniaturization of your follicles, your sebaceous glands will begin to over-produce sebum, which results in – you guessed it! Acne. Pimples. Zits. I know you’ve never had to deal with that before, so I’m just preparing you for it now. Pizza-face, I think the popular nickname is. Get ready for a lot of that.

Let’s see…what else can I tell you.... Gosh, this is kind of like the orientation for a new job, isn’t it? Ah, yes. I know. Speaking of jobs...

Yeah, this is the tough part. It’s all very natural, I assure you. Just like with your friends, your co-workers will come to see you in a different way. I know you have quite a few cutthroat underlings who would eat one another alive to get your corner office, and the moment they sense you’re not as much of a threat as you used to be, they’ll swarm.

I give it two weeks, tops, until you’re gone. If you choose that road. Or you could make it much easier on yourself and resign. You won’t be financially ruined – not with all that new information surging through your brain – you’ll be an asset to the right company, the right department. Maybe IT will take you. Or accounting. Maybe you won’t work corporate. Maybe you’ll work retail.

God, that’s cruel even for me. I wouldn’t wish retail on anyone, even a jerk like you. But there’s no telling what could happen. For all I know, once the process has completed, you could end up one of those Geek Squad guys at Best Buy! Have you seen the uniform they have to wear? It’s company-mandated dress code. You’ve seen them, haven’t you? White, short-sleeve, button-down shirt. Black polyester clip-on necktie; black, pleated trousers; black lace-up shoes…and white socks. Yes, white socks, kept completely spotless and bright. All this is enforced, too, with routine inspections, to make sure you’re being compliant!

You see, there’s really an infinity of possibilities for you. If anything, this is a new chance for you – a fresh start. I know it feels scary, all this change. But change is the only constant. Everything is always in flux. Heck, every seven years, your entire body regenerates – every cell is new and different, so why shouldn’t your personality and identity change, too?

It’s logical, isn’t it? Nod once for yes.

Good! You’re starting to come around, aren’t you? Like I said, it won’t be so bad if you just accept it. If you don’t fight it. That sudden urge to position your tongue up behind your teeth when you say ess. Eth. Eth. How your voice keeps breaking, and in the most unfortunate ways, and at the most unfortunate times – all of this is being etched into your muscle memory as I speak to you.

There isn’t much longer now until I can remove your gag, and I can see that the physical alterations are beginning. Too bad all that hard work at the gym all these years is so easily eroded by our process, but then, those muscles were mostly for show, weren’t they? Well, no longer. It isn’t exactly sarcopenia, but it’s close. You’ll be at least one and a half, possibly two, standard deviations below the relevant population mean, and no amount of exercise will restore your former abilities.

Yes, the ropes are looser now, because you’re much smaller. Rapid onset muscle deterioration. You could struggle out of them. Maybe you could even escape. You could try. But there’s no way you’d make it very far without your glasses. Who would believe you, anyway? What would you even say?

Like I said, you might as well give in. It’s not so bad, once you get used to it. And you’ll have me. I’ll be with you for the whole beginning process, so you can acclimate to your newly nerdy life. You won’t be able to continue living in that luxe apartment you’ve got – no, you’ll be moving into a nice little basement apartment I’ve got fixed up for you, in the suburbs outside the city. The landlords have just got it refurbished, with some nice wood paneling, and there’s a spare twin bed that should be just your size! There’s also tons of room on the walls to put up all your posters. You won’t need much room for anything else, really. You definitely won’t be needing that enormous closet of tailored, fitted button-down shirts, or all those sneakers, definitely not those expensive Under Armour boxer-briefs. What a waste. No, the new you is way more frugal with his money, seeing as he’s paid so little of it. The new you doesn’t even think that much about clothes, or fashion.

This must be a lot to handle. Maybe I should have a little mercy on you.

Tell you what. I’ll let you choose your underwear. How’s that, pal? That make you feel any better? Nod once for yes.

See, I’m not that bad. That’s right. So, here. You can choose…Hanes, or Fruit of the Loom?

Oh, I see. You thought I meant what kind of underwear. Haha, no. You’ll be wearing tighty-whities from now on. Sorry, them’s the rules. Besides, you won’t need much support…down there, if you catch my drift!

Don’t look so horrified. You won’t even notice that it’s gone. Mostly. You’ll still have some length, just, you know, not a lot. You won’t be able to call it a “cock” or a “dick” ever again, either. Oh, look how cute – you’re blushing just hearing me say it! You might call it something else, like your ding-a-ling, or your wiener.

Okay, okay, I can tell you’re getting embarrassed, you’ve gone all red and blotchy in your cheeks. We don’t have to talk about the … “no-no place” anymore, little buddy.

All right. Here’s your glasses. I’ll just set them on your nose, for you…there. Wow, they sure do make your eyes look tiny!

I can tell you’re getting near to the end of the process, and I’m curious to see how big your two front teeth have gotten. From that bump in your upper lip…gosh, it looks like you might be giving Bugs Bunny a run for his money!

You’ve really been behaving better, so I’ll bring you a mirror, okay? So you can see for yourself. I must say, it’s already quite the improvement. I wasn’t expecting your hair to turn so red, or get so curly. Maybe if you can’t get a job at Best Buy, you could run away and join the circus as a clown!

I’m just horsing around with you, pal. Don’t pass out on me. You promise not to scream? I hate it when they scream. Nod once for yes.

You’re a little excited, aren’t you? It’s okay. You can tell me. I bet you get a little more excitable than you used to. Maybe you even get a little clumsy, with the loss of all that hand-eye coordination. Trip over your own two feet and go sprawling.

But who knows. There’s so much potential.

And you’re just the beginning, too. Let’s just say that my proposal for introducing you to the process wasn’t well-received by Central. What do they know? They have this power, and they don’t use it. Well, you snooze, you lose, by golly! If you have a gift, you use it, otherwise it goes to waste.

Anyway. Enough of the supervillain speech. You don’t need to know anything more. It’ll probably be wiped out in the massive crush of nerdy trivia about Star Trek and Star Wars that’s going to download into your brain soon, anyway.

So, this is it. Are you ready to see? Nod once for yes, and I’ll pull the cloth off this mirror here.

Alrighty, dweeb, you asked for it. Here goes.

Say salutations to the new you!

[END TRANSCRIPT]

[onelastbreath-writes]

I Spy (2)

Pairing: Frankie “Catfish” Morales/Fem!Reader (AFAB, no y/n)

Word Count: 1.9K

Warnings: Swearing

Summary (lite): You literally fall for a guy you meet in a bar, and everything is going great until you learn both of you have been lying about who you are and what you do. Oof. (SpecOps&Spies AU with Young!Frankie)

A/N: Wow part one got a lot of love, thank you so much! And now I also have a taglist going for this fic, so let me know if you want to be tagged the next time I post. This chapter is basically just fluff with a bit of background plot,,, i’ve created both a slow burn, and a 100 metre sprint of a relationship for y’all, so be prepared for that. Depending on what I manage to get into the next chapter, aka if i can finish the story or if i wimp out, there will either be 3 or 4 chapters total, and if i like the universe enough I might have some bonus content in the future. Nothing is set in stone so don’t start counting your chickens yet, but like... maybe. Anyways, I hope you enjoy part 2 of Let Me Have Nice Things I Spy <3

PS it is 3:45am when I’m posting this, please forgive me if its actually just weird thnxxxx

[AO3A][Masterlist]

[Previous Part]

---

“Water with a wedge of lemon, please,” you ordered as you and Frankie claimed a bar stool each at the counter.

“And a coke for me, thank you.”

The drink offer was always a toss up for you; a good way to measure the type of guy interested in your company. Even if you hadn’t decided that you were done with the alcohol tonight, you would still have ordered a water on your date’s dime. It was a simple test of character that more than a few guys had failed in the past. Were they looking to get you drunk, or were they willing to respect your choices? Frankie, so far, had done nothing but respect you.

Your drinks arrive quickly, and the cool glass feels refreshing in your hands. You still feel warm from your brief contact with the handsome man beside you, but after peaking at him from the side of your eyes, you can see that his ears and cheeks also have some red to them as well.

Frankie accepts his glass and angles himself towards you, bumping his knee lightly to yours and offering you another sweet smile. “Would it be presumptuous of me to offer a cheers? To meeting new people? Or I’ve got some great, really catchy and not at all cheesy pick-up lines, if that’s more your style?”

You snorted a laugh at his teasing but held out your drink for him to clink his against, “To meeting new people, then. And please, I have extremely high standards so only your best lines will appease me.”

“Ah, a connoisseur! Well then, please prepare to be amazed,” Frankie swivelled around to fully face you, ran a hand through his hair, fluffing his curls and pushing them away from his face, and cleared his throat for dramatic effect. “You blinded me with your beauty, so I’m going to need your name and number for insurance purposes.”

Your plan was to hold out, not to crack against whatever corny, horribly cliché thing he was going to say to you. You’d been given them all, and had never had much trouble before, even with guys as attractive and cute as Frankie. You had a great poker face, and could keep yourself together like a pro. There was nothing he could say to you that would break your façade. And then he opened his mouth, and you were gone.

“Oh my god! That’s so bad!” You were shaking, gasping while trying to contain and smother your laughter. You hadn’t thought to put your drink down before he started, and you could feel the liquid sloshing around the glass in your hand. Frankie, thankfully, noticed your problem, and gently wrapped his fingers around your wrist to steady your grasp. He helped you set the drink down safely, before pulling your still jittering limb away from further potential accidents. And then, he just didn’t release you.

He had slipped his hand into yours and was running his thumb over your knuckles.

As if your cheeks weren’t warm enough already.

What is it with this guy? You just couldn’t catch a break.

“Okay?” Can I keep holding your hand?

“Yes,” Please don’t let me go.

---

“And so, we’re just, like, full-tilt sprinting to catch this last train. And of course, its raining cats and dogs, so the sidewalk is slippery as hell, and Santi’s down a shoe so he’s splashing around in his sock, and then we hit the stairs up to the platform, and the train is pulling out…” You couldn’t remember the last time you smiled so much but listening to Frankie’s stories about his friends and their misadventures was making your cheeks ache.

You had been trading stories for ages, back and forth and jumping all over your lives to tell each other your greatest hits. Something between you two had just clicked, and it felt like you’d known him forever.

Early in the conversation you’d discovered he was his buddies’ designated driver, and would be on non-alcoholic beverages all night, but offered you anything you would like if you wanted more than water. You’d of course thanked him, but refused, stating your own reasons for sobriety. And that’s the point you got into talking about your careers.

“The guys wanted to get wasted during shore leave, and I’m not big on drinking so I offered to be their ride this time.” He was rather adorably touchy-feely with you, currently playing with your fingers and drawing on your palm absentmindedly.

“Shore leave? So, you’re military then?” That would explain the callouses and healed scars on his hands that you’d also been acquainting yourself with.

“Army, yeah,” Frankie had pointed out his group of hooligans across the room, playing what he’d told you was ‘Extreme Darts’. “Me and Santi were best friends in high school and enlisted together, and then we met Will and Benny in basic training. We worked together well enough to get us assigned to Tom’s squad and the rest’s history.”

“Then you’re still on active duty, right?” You couldn’t say you knew much about how a military contract worked, beyond what you’d seen in movies and on TV, but you knew soldiers were required to do a certain amount of service before they could retire; baring career-ending events that would get them discharged, of course. “When does shore leave end?”

“Ah, that’s a little complicated to explain, actually. We’re technically active soldiers still, but after our last deployment ended, we signed back on as like, uh, contractors. Sort of like on-base reservists? We help out where we can but don’t really see much in-field work, you know?” He was definitely struggling to describe his job to you, and you could imagine there was a lot of red tape and confidentiality around anything military he was doing, so you just nodded along and let him drop it. “But we still have a couple weeks stateside before we ship back out.”

You hummed at that, thinking over your own known schedule. “I can’t say I’ll have much time off before you need to leave, but I would like to see more of you, if you’re agreeable?” There was something special about this guy, and whether you were just friends or something more eventually, you didn’t want to waste your opportunity to have him in your life. Long distance anything was a lot of work, but you wanted him to know you were willing to try if he was.

“Do you like raisins? How would you feel about a date?”

---

That was how your unconventional romance with Frankie Morales started. You’d talked all night, and when the bartender kicked you and your groups out at closing time, he and his friends helped get your girls into their cabs. And once they were all taken care of, he had offered you his arm and walked you to your car like a proper, posh gentleman.

“Goodnight, paloma, thank you for such a wonderful evening.”

You had given him your business card, personal phone number and a flirty call me xx written on the back, and he in turn lifted your hand to brush a delicate kiss to your knuckles with a teasing wink. You went home that night mildly concerned you’d spontaneously combust from the heat blazing through your body. That man was a menace, and he knew exactly what he was doing to you.

He had called the next evening, and from there you spent as much time as you could together. Coffee dates, dinner and movie nights, even a walk in the park like some fairy-tale couple; he always greeted you with a bad pick-up line to make you smile, and a left you with a kiss on the hand at the end of your outings.

It was three wonderful but short weeks later that he got his ship-out date.

You were back at the dive bar where it all started, your friend (and some of her friends) and his all together again, to celebrate their last night of leave. The bar had unofficially become your ‘spot’, and you’d visited a few more times over the weeks, both as private dates and as group activities to get to know the rest of his squad.

It was bittersweet, saying goodbye to your new friends and your, well, Frankie. You had both agreed not to put labels or promises into your relationship until you were sure, and you were fine with that in the beginning when you were still strangers just interested in spending time together. But now you knew him, now you had feelings to back up your attraction to him, and now, he was leaving for who knows how long and you didn’t know if he felt the same way about you.

He must have noticed something was upsetting you, because he excused himself from his buddies’ conversation and held out a hand to help you up out of your chair.

“Join me for some fresh air, hermosa?” He was as courteous as ever as he led you outside into the chilled night, offering you his jacket and his side to cuddle into when you shivered. He was good at reading you by now and could tell when you wanted to work up to saying something without prompting, so he stayed silent and let you organize your thoughts.

You were struggling with your plan, with what you wanted to say to him, ask of him. He was rubbing your shoulder and you reached up to lace your fingers together, remembering the first time you held hands here at the bar…

Please don’t let me go.

That was your answer then, and it was still your answer now. You wanted him to keep holding your hand, now and for however much longer he could. You just needed to tell him that. Easy peasy. And because he’d made a sentimental dork out of you with his unending lines, you couldn’t think of a better way to confess to him. You looked up and met his eyes, allowing yourself to get lost in them.

“I must be a snowflake, because I’ve fallen for you.”

He untangled your fingers from his, pulling his arm away from where it was draped warmly over your shoulders, and took a step back to face you head on.

Oh gods, you wanted to rewind time and stop yourself from opening your big mouth, I’ve ruined it all.

Frankie snagged both of your wrists in his hands, startling you out of your downwards spiral as he tugged you close to his chest. He was staring down at you, brows furrowed and lips pursed seriously. Your hands were pressed between you, resting against his sternum over his steadily beating heart.

“Feel my shirt. It’s made of boyfriend material.”

And then you were both gone, laughing so hard you had tears in your eyes and grins splitting your faces as you held each other close.

You hadn’t ruined anything after all; you could cry you were so relieved.

Once you’d both managed to settle down, he leaned in and rested his forehead against yours, his own shiny eyes meeting yours earnestly. “I’m a terribly selfish man to ask this of you, but would you wait for me? Will you give us a chance? Exclusively?”

“Yes.”

Your first kiss together was there, on that cold night outside the bar where everything changed. It was soft and sweet, and you couldn’t wait for more.

---

Taglist:

@playbucky​

[imkylotrash]

Release

Pairing: JJ Maybank x reader

Request: Reader and JJ are dating and they go to a party at the boneyard one night and the reader has been struggling with problems at home so she just absolutely lets go and gets totally shit faced and gets around rafe and some more kooks and tries coke and jj obv finds out and just absolutely loses it bc that’s his baby and his baby put herself in danger and he knows that’s just not like her at all. Anonymous

Warnings: Substance abuse, swearing, self destructive actions. As always let me know if there’s more. 

A/N I’m sorry this is so late but I hope whoever requested it sees it and loves it! x 

“You almost ready, babe?” JJ walks through the door and even if he’s just wearing a tee and some shorts, you can’t help but enjoy the view. You’re getting ready for the party tonight but your heart isn’t in it. Yesterday you came home to find your father drunk once again. It wasn’t the first time but two months ago he told you that he was going to sober up. You’re not sure why you believed him this time because he’s been trying to get sober ever since your mom died. But this time just felt different so coming home to see him passed out on the couch with vomit down his front and a dozen beer bottles in front of him was just too much. 

“Yeah, just finishing touches,” you reply returning to the present. You have yet to tell JJ that your father slipped up. Even though you know that JJ is the one person that can understand and relate then something in you makes you feel too ashamed to say it out loud. 

“You look hot,” he whispers leaning down to place a kiss on the top of your head. You lean into his body behind you for just a moment before getting up. A voice whispers to stay at home with JJ but you crush it. Tonight isn’t about taking it easy. 

“Let’s go,” you say grabbing your purse. It doesn’t take long before you’re at the Boneyard with the rest and you’re already on your second beer. You’re sitting between JJ’s legs and resting your back against his chest. 

“Are you okay?” he whispers to keep it private from the rest of the group. 

“I’m fine,” you reply not even looking his way. JJ shifts a little behind you but refrains from pushing you further. Instead he kisses your shoulder as a way to let you know that he’s there. Normally, it would be enough to bring you out of your funk but tonight you’re going to need something more than JJ. 

“I’ll be right back,” you say getting up from your spot with JJ. When he gets up to follow you, you shake your head. He means well, but you just need to be alone. You walk around watching the party evolve as it gets closer and closer to sunrise. 

“Y/N! Long time, no see!” someone yells making you turn around.

“Hey Rafe,” you say forcing a smile. Back before you met JJ, he was your date to parties. Not because you had feelings for him, but because he dealt the good stuff. And tonight, you needed that. 

“Looking to score?” he says showing a little bag with white powder. He’s dangling it in front of you not caring who sees which is stupid. He should be more careful with who sees him dealing. 

“You know me too well,” you reply grabbing some cash from your purse but Rafe stops you. 

“It’s on the house. A welcome back gift,” he says putting his arm around you and pulling you close. The feeling of someone else other than JJ touching you like that makes you sick, but tonight you’re pushing all thoughts of JJ in the back of your mind. Tonight you’re going all in like the old days and you’re not going to stop until you find out why this shit is better than your own family. Why someone would prefer drinks and lines rather than being there for your own children. You know that this thinking isn’t logical and that you won’t find answers this way but the image of your father passed out yesterday is haunting you and you just need to know what he sees in this stuff. 

“So, where’s your boyfriend tonight?” Topper smirks. You’re sitting with Rafe, Topper and the rest of their group. Everyone including yourself is high or drunk or both. Rather than giving in to Toppers teasing you do another line feeling it really hit you. It’s like you’re completely numb, your limbs so heavy you can barely move. But it’s a nice kind of numb - one where you don’t have to deal with all the things that sober you will have to. 

“I wanna dance,” you state getting up. You want to lose this feeling of heaviness that’s consuming your mind and body. So you dance and when Rafe comes up next to you, the voice telling you to stop him is barely a whisper. And he grabs you by the hips - something that makes your stomach churn - but suddenly you’re pushed away from him harshly. 

“What is going on?” Even now in this state you can hear how fucking close JJ is to losing it. 

“We’re having fun,” you reply not even recognising your own voice. You’re slurring the words and there’s two of JJ. 

“What the hell did you give her?” You see JJ push Rafe into the sand and holding him down. 

“JJ,” you say stumbling a little. There’s a very nice high but when you come down, you come crashing. And the good stuff is wearing off meaning you’re crashing fast. 

“Get off me, dude! I can’t help your junkie girlfriend did a line too much!” It’s the wrong thing to say. Even in your state right now you know that it’s the wrong thing to say. You don’t see JJ raise his fist, but you hear the impact when it hits Rafe’s face. Then you hear it again and again until John B pulls him off. 

“Stop it, JJ. Stop!” The last thing you hear is JJ calling your name before you pass out. When you wake up next, you’re sitting in a tub being drenched by cold water. 

“Stop!” you scream trying to shield your face from the cold water but it keeps on coming. It’s at least another minute before it stops. You wipe your face so you can get a look at who did the hosing. 

“What happened?” Your throat is so dry, you can’t even swallow. It takes you a moment to stop coughing. 

“Why would you do something like that?” His voice is laced with the hurt he’s feeling. It’s the shame that keeps you from looking into his eyes. He didn’t deserve to see you like that. Not after everything that’s happened with him and his dad. 

“I just wanted to have fun.” 

“Cut the crap, damn it!” He slams his hand into the wall making you jump. He’s so angry you can feel it radiating off of him. 

“Rafe should be lucky he’s even alive. I swear, if he ever tries to sell you shit again, it’s the last thing he’ll ever do.” 

“JJ, this isn’t Rafe’s fault. He didn’t force it on me. I asked.” You finally look up to meet his gaze and it almost breaks you. He looks betrayed, like he doesn’t even know who you are right now. He needs to know what happened last night but you have no idea where to start. 

“Why?” One word. Filled with so much more than just a simple question. 

“My dad slipped up again. He was doing so well. 2 months and then I came home and there he was. Drunk and passed out. I don’t know why I thought this time would be different,” you admit looking down at your hands. They’re shaking violently, something that always happens to you after using. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” His entire demeanour changes. Suddenly his eyes are soft, his shoulders less tense, he turns into the JJ you know and love. Taking a knee next to the bathtub he uses his right hand to tilt up your face towards his. There’s nothing but love and understanding in his eyes. Of course he knows how this feels and you should’ve just told him to begin with. 

“I’m such a mess,” you whisper not daring to break eye contact with him. 

“But you’re my mess. Same way I’m yours. We’re in this shit hole together,” he promises leaning in. And just like that you can’t get close enough. You climb over the edge of the bathtub landing in his lap so you can wrap your arms around him. Clinging on to him for dear life because you might just fall apart without him. 

“I love you, JJ. I’m so sorry,” you whisper placing a soft kiss on his neck.

“Just promise you’ll talk to me next time. Don’t go looking for answers where you won’t find them.” His tone is gentle, but firm. This isn’t a request but a demand. And you easily comply. 

“Say it back.” You have to hear him say it. You have to know that he’s forgiven you now and that you can move past this. 

“I love you. Even when you drive me mad.” You kiss him needing to feel him in ways you can begin to explain. It’s like he’s fresh air as you break through the water surface. He’s taking a deep breath when you’re ready to collapse. And maybe it’s unhealthy to need another person the way you need JJ, but you can’t help it. Even if you wanted to, you wouldn’t know how to live without him. And you know it’s the same for him. 

“Let’s get you changed,” he whispers lifting you up and carrying you to the bed. He fetches a big shirt for you and starts to undress you. Even though there’s nothing sexual in the way he does it, you revel in how good his hands feel on your body. 

“Let’s get some sleep.” You cuddle up next to JJ and feel sleep arrive almost immediately. 

“You’re always saving me, JJ.” Then you close your eyes. 

[reversecreek]

snickers feverishly at myself for bringing in a 5th... who do i think i am? unstoppable? invincible? suddenly ripples my titanium plated pecs. maybe so. u can find her pinterest here n her playlist here. 

* margaret qualley, cis female + she/her  | you know bradley milligan, right? they’re twenty-four, and they’ve lived in irving for, like, all of their life? well, their spotify wrapped says they listened to looking for knives by dyan like, a million times this year, which makes sense ‘cause they’ve got that whole snow angels trampled through by your father’s footprints, casually reading a newspaper that’s catching flame & stubbing a cigarette against the wing mirror of a parked cop car thing going on. i just checked and their birthday is november 11th, so they’re a scorpio, which is unsurprising, all things considered. ( nai, 24, gmt she/her  )

HISTORY:

bradley has this memory of meeting her grandmother for the first time n everything in the room was frozen still. even the air. she didn’t feel like she cld move n she got the impression this is how it’d always been in the milligan lineage. the only thing that was allowed to act of it’s own accord was her grandmother’s eyes as she tracked every slightest flinch of muscle. when her father left the room her grandmother reached out and took bradley’s hand n bradley looked at this like it was smthn she’d never seen before until her grandmother leaned close and all she could stare at was a nicotine stain on one of her front teeth. “he’s cold, isn’t he? he’s always been cold. i don’t think he’s mine.” bradley could tell from how tight she held her hand that he was. she could tell by the way she smiled as she said it, too. the way she felt obliged to smile back.

growing up in a huge white house in aquila drive w pruned hedges sounds idyllic n looks it too. swanky cars w tinted windows in the long driveway. always men filing in and out under the cloak of night wearing expensive suits n smiles worthy of a politician’s billboard. bradley’s mum alyssa thought so too n that’s hw she got into this whole mess tbh. tony milligan is very good at advertising. he cld package a jarred human heart as strawberry jam and convince u to spread it on ur toast if he wanted to. he could make u smile politely as u ate ur own. 

alyssa ws this very pretty blonde kind of mysterious presence in a room. everyone wanted to kno her story or fk her but noone rly treated her like a person more just like a puzzle to solve. john green syndrome alert..... literally manic pixie dream girled bt on turbo charge. there were vague whispers she’d run away from home when she appeared in town out of nowhere bt nothing concrete. tony decided he wanted to crack the case n once he set his mind to something there was no changing it. they wound up embroiled in a whirlwind romance. head over heels. he came at romance hard and fast as a freight train. alyssa knew he was into shady things but not quite the full extent of it n honestly she didn’t care bc she wanted security n a family to call her own n tony promised that. they were married within a year. 

tony came frm money bt he wanted to carve his own path n make his own legacy. destined fr greatness he’d tell her. we’re destined for greatness. it sounds nice doesn’t it! alyssa thought so too.

(drugs mention tw) slowly over the yrs he essentially forged his own crime organisation tht only grew. he opened a strip club down the seedier side of irving called ‘no angels’ n this became the front thru which his gang ran drugs in the back (predominantly coke n they pride themselves fr having a Superior Blend apparently) as well as laundering cash n this also was kind of their home base to hang

(abuse tw) their marriage increasingly lost it’s shine n alyssa came to realise she’d been sold a lie n she didn’t rly know this person or what he was capable of right around the time bradley was born. by then it was kind of like Wow i am rly in this n there is not an exit door huh. i won’t go into details bt things were not good at all. bradley witnessed n experienced a lot of things she shouldn’t have growing up. she didn’t understand why other kids drew home in all these different coloured crayons like they were bright places to be. she didn’t understand why everyone got so excited when the bell rang at the end of the day bc she just felt sick. she rationalised tht this was normal when she was younger bc sometimes kids talked abt the monsters under their beds giving them nightmares n she thought mayb they were talking abt their dads too. as she got older she realised tht actually her world wasn’t the same as anyone else’s n she also realised no-one wld ever be able to tell her why. she started becoming friends with the angry feeling in her chest tht she used to try and swallow around this time. often she’d wander the mall for a while to put off going home. smoke on random park benches. watch trains rattle thru town from the vantage point of a random rooftop. 

(abuse, missing person implied, murder implied & grief tw) when bradley was 12 she woke up and all of her mum’s clothes were gone frm their drawers. no shoes anywhere. a framed photo of them at the beach holding bradley as a baby vanished from over the mantelpiece. when bradley asked her dad what was going on, tony essentially said “it was exhausting her. being here. being your mother. she didn’t want to do it any more, so now she’s gone” n then he hugged her. little details leaked into the mix over the yrs. at one point tony dismissed her as having flown overseas to a foreign country to drink in the sun like she’d always wanted even tho alyssa always told bradley she liked the snow best (once she even walked outside as it fell in a thin lace nightgown when tony was out n when bradley said “mom you’re gonna get cold” she only tugged her down and made her do snow angels until her lips looked blue). the most significant memory bradley can never shake from her head is her mother cupping a yellow tulip at the park n saying she hated them. when bradley asked why she only turned and smiled at her as she stroked the hair from her face n then said “because they look so happy”. after bradley’s mum vanished a long flower bed at the bottom of the garden was suddenly overrun with dozens of freshly planted yellow tulips. whenever bradley looked at them out of her window she got this sickly feeling in the pit of her stomach like she was visiting a cemetery. she suspected what had happened to her mum (especially as rumours circulated within tony’s organisation abt alyssa being unfaithful with someone tht used to work fr him) bt she cld never bring herself to truly accept it. thus she ws stuck in this strange purgatory state of not-quite-anger at her mum for “leaving” and not-quite-grief.

bradley rly started to transgress in school after her mum was gone. alyssa was always kind of a character when she’d pick bradley up (wasn’t doing well n acted kind of ‘eccentric’ i suppose u cld say) so tony managed to spin it all as a child acting out in the wake of an unfit mother uprooting n abandoning. bradley became........ interesting. JKHGFSSKJGHFSGHSKFGHFG. she’d snap n resort to violence very easily. very desensitised to it. students were kind of scared of her tbh. as this progressed into proper high school she got in w the more rowdy popular crowd solely bc she was so fking.... wild for lack of a better word. rly would just do anything fr the thrill. had no sense of ‘i shouldn’t do this bc it’s dangerous’. partied harder than anyone. bit back harder than anyone. no filter. hung w a lot of guys honestly bc they had less morals n either found her scariness cool or wanted to fk <3

(hospitalisation, depression & drugs tw) she’s had. a few stints in psychiatric institutions fr various reasons tbh. missed a small chunk of her senior yr fr this but it wasn’t widely known just kind of rumoured. she showcases a lot of similar symptoms to her mum who struggled w severe depression (which was difficult to cope w when ur husband was often pouring ur prescription down the drain fr kicks) n in order to compensate fr the lows she takes a lot of things to kick them into highs. drinks n snorts too much. bradley i love u bt i’m begging u to seek healthier coping mechanisms......

as the yrs went on (especially once alyssa had gone) tony rly started trying to integrate bradley into the business side of things...... she literally. is named bradley bc he was expecting a boy n he was like well let’s still call her bradley. n had in mind she’d still fulfil the role he wanted her to of being his little protege so to speak.... both sexist n ugly all in one fell swoop...... an example of this is he literally. bought her a mint green switchblade for her 14th birthday n named it tinkerbell bc it would “die without attention” aka using it. tht sounds like a healthy gift to give a child tony congratulations sis <3

in an ideal world bradley wld have gone to uni to study psychology bc she jst wants to know how the fk her dad is literally like that bt she probably stuck around n is now managing no angels along with billy n marco (billy’s in her dad’s gang n is, u guessed it, a cunt, n marco is his sort of right hand man so to speak) bc tony’s in the closest neighbouring city overseeing a second ‘no angels’ opening up there to expand into a franchise n widen their income margins. bradley wld also be sort of used as a honey trap type deal once she got older if they needed to lure ppl places n sometimes still is bt it depends. the guys in the club all know not to mess w bradley bc she’s tony’s daughter n literally kind of scary herself sometimes bt there’s also this certain allure tht comes with being the boss’ daughter n it kind of comes across in how they act or talk abt her. yes i will kill them all n no i won’t feel bad abt it <3

think that’s kind of all u need to kno history wise... blinks one eye out of sync w the other..... runs to personality

PERSONALITY:

a phrase i wld always use to describe bradley in old intros is “like a cup of black coffee with one grain of sugar that u don’t taste until the last sip”. also dark chocolate. lime. liquorice. she’s an acquired taste n i feel like u either love her or u hate her. 

cannot express how unpredictably chaotic she is..... frequently throws a drink in a stranger’s face jst to start something bc she’s bored. loves to hurl cheese slices across the room so they slap onto someone’s face out of nowhere. likes smashing things. stubbing cigarettes out on faces in framed family photographs. will literally pick a lock n then smash the window besides it to defeat the whole purpose just bc she found how neat it was boring. does anything fr the adrenaline n thrill. gets into far too many fights n fights dirty. probably been thrown out of every bar in town at least three times. banned from a bunch too.

she’s witty bt she has a dark sense of humour..... can be quite mean.......... loves to roast ppl for no reason........ honestly has some nathan young frm misfits aspects in that sense like jst seems untouchable emotionally n like she doesn’t take anything seriously n is fking outrageous about it.....

has this quality abt her tht kind of scares herself sometimes. it’s like she recognises parts of her dad in her. she’s very perceptive (bc she’s had to be over the yrs trying to read every micro-expression of her dad’s to predict what’s next) n like emotionally intelligent in a way which is ironic bc her own emotions r just an absolute minefield.... bt. she can read people quite well. gets this eerily calm look abt her sometimes n it’s jst like god what’s. she thinking. what’s she’s gna do. i’m shaking. a cool n controlled kind of rage can often be scarier than the explosive type n bradley does that well. grits my teeth n tugs on my collar....

very strong on the surface. hates being vulnerable. has this ingrained idea that crying is childish or rly any kind of emotional display within herself. 50% not taking things seriously 50% angry. tht’s how she comes across....... internally? whole different story. bt ppl don’t see that.

very cavalier abt some things. will flash her tits n not even think abt it. jst very out there...... one of her closest friends is a homeless man named joe who wears neon purple fishnets on his head n loves to spit on ppl from over an underpass. finds eccentric ppl like this funny n surrounds herself w them. loves to be kept on her toes.

LOVES driving stolen cars down the wrong side of the highway. it’s a lot.

fiercely loyal to a fault to a select few bt if u wrong her personally this can switch pretty quick. quite a force to b reckoned w n will hold a grudge. bt like. if ur a Chosen One she’d bury a body for u no questions asked. 

WANTED CONNECTIONS

deals to u: bradley isn’t like full time into dealing bt she does do it sometimes.... treats it kind of like a hobby bc the lesser ranked can do tht shit as far as she’s concerned bt.. sometimes also jst gets bored n is like. why not. might be chaotic. mayb they’ll try to rob me <3 we love the thrill <3 or like..... if ur friends w her she’ll deal to u n no she will not do a friends discount <3 or if she does there will definitely be some sort of stipulation attached <3

high skl crew: if ur muse is local n ws an absolutely demonic hell spawn in high skl tht went to 1974547254 parties n was outrageously chaotic n rude then. bradley probably was friends w them <3 her friendships tend to be surface level bt they’d definitely go out a bunch bt whether they actually knew a lot abt her life is debatable bt we could explore options fr this

people who work at no angels: no angels is her dad’s strip club in irving that she kind of helps to run now. it’s kind of a shifty environment. the place where ud have an outrageous bachelor party. u go for the first time w a fake id n u get served bt u also get ur wallet stolen n ur convinced someone spat in ur drink n u also kind of think there might b a hit on u now after u made eye contact too long w a broad shouldered man smoking in a back booth. scary environment. testament to her dad as a person. maybe ur muse is a dancer there or works the bar or security or whatever u name it....

ma’am are u ok?: ur muse found bradley passed out across two bus seats one time in smudged dark eyeliner a silver slip dress n the world’s chunkiest combat boots this town hs ever seen. sometimes she winds up in spots like this when she goes too hard n it’s absolutely dangerous n reckless bt that’s jst bradley <3 mayb they forged an unlikely friendship frm this strange meeting or maybe even? dare i say it? a romance? opposite worlds colliding? good influence? let’s go crazy. release ur inhibitions. feel the rain on ur skin.

hook-ups: bradley’s cavalier abt this stuff..... very unemotional typically..... mayb we cld do an unrequited thing that wld be angsty n fun altho i won’t lie i don’t kno if she’d be the one to catch the feelings.... she rarely sleeps over bt once when she woke up in someone’s bed she hiked over to straddle them carefully as possible so they wldn’t wake up n then pressed her knife to their neck as a fun little surprise where she said boo when they opened their eyes.... she’s a lot clearly.

watermelon slugger, hiiii: bradley has this habit where she gets a bunch of watermelons n then goes to a rooftop n throws them over the edge to watch them explode when they hit the pavement.... maybe ur muse almost got hit by one once n were like WTF???????? another quirky meet cute moment like the bus one <3 can’t stop w them <3 maybe she randomly invited ur muse to do it w her when they were like. a stranger of f the street. she was bored. decided to adopt them as a science experiment. we cn elaborate on this probably....

ouch charlie: similar territory bt she also sometimes shoots pedestrians w a bb gun from rooftops. mayb ur muse wld always get hit by one on a certain route they walked n finally one day they saw her head ducking down behind a ledge n then they see her in the street one day n are like HEY IT’S YOU............. WTF? n bradley’s like ya i’m christ risen again it’s a lot to take in i know...

rly jst anything... mutually destructive friends... exes.... in one rp a character tried to get close to bradley so he cld write an expose all book about her n her family which i found so fking funny so i’ll request that again.... people she’s fought.... ppl whose gf/bf she’s fk’d n it’s caused enemy status.... someone whose place she broke into and shaved their eyebrows off in the night only to draw them on again in crudely thin permanent sharpie lines.... roommates cld be fun n sexy i’d love that actually.... jst anything rly. go wild. kisses everyone tenderly on cheeks.

[chibsytelford]

3 is the perfect number

Jax Teller x Chibs Telford x Reader.

Authors note - so myself and @rebel-without-cause-x​ wrote this together. We were just thirsting over our men, which turned into this fic. Sorry not sorry.

Words = 2263

Warning = mentions of smoking weed, sex, some swearing.

Taglist = @agirllovespasta​ @everyhowlmarksthedead​ @naytraydr​

Saturday night only meant one thing, getting drunk, high or laid. Or even all three.

 “Girl, are you ready yet?” Lyla shouted upstairs. 

 “Gimme 5” you laughed as you shook your hair out before slipping on your Timberlands. 

 You and Lyla were an odd combination, she was quite girly and you were the complete opposite. But somehow you were like peas in a pod. 

 “I will leave without you” she laughed. 

“God I’m coming” you laughed back taking one final look in the mirror, smirking at your appearance. Your cut off Nirvana shirt gave a glimpse of your cherry red lace bra and your shorts were cheeky. 

 Running down the stairs you heard Lyla whistle at you. 

 “Damn girl, someone is planning on getting laid tonight” she smirked. 

 “Too right, it’s been a hot minute” you sighed. You had recently come out of a very toxic relationship and now it was only about having fun. “Now let’s go because I’m gonna die if I don’t drink something alcoholic soon”.

 “Always the dramatic one” she chuckled as she locked up. 

 You and Lyla headed into the Sons clubhouse where the party was in full swing. The bar was the first stop of the night. You flashed a flirty smile to the guy manning the bar and ordered 4 shots and 2 vodka and cokes. 

 “Cheers” you both giggled in unison, as you clinked the glasses together. The music was loud, the air was filled with the smell of weed. This was your kind of party. Slamming the glass down on the bar you and Lyla headed to dance in the middle of the floor. 

 As you swayed your hips seductively to the beat of the music you noticed more than one person had their eye on you. There was two people to be exact, and you knew them really well. Jax Teller and Chibs Telford. 

 A small smirk appeared on your face as an idea popped into your head, you just didn’t know if the boys would be up for it but you definitely were. The music changed and was more of an up beat tempo. Your hips gracefully moved to the beat as you winked at Lyla, dropping to the floor pushing your knees out, before bouncing back up and popping your bum out. 

 If it wasn’t obvious you had gained the attention from Jax and Chibs, it definitely was now, as they stared at you open mouthed.

 “I need another drink” you laughed as you ran your hands through your hair. Every action you did had a bit more effort in order to drive two boys insane. Slinking over the bar you winked at Chibs before leaning against the cool wood and ordered a glass of whisky. 

 “You gonna share that joint or what” you giggled holding your hand out to Jax. 

 “Lass ye surprise me every day” Chibs smirked placing his hand on the base of your back, and the flash of jealousy in Jax’s blue eyes didn’t go unnoticed. 

 Jax slammed the joint in your hand and you took a drag. You smirked, knowing full well that the blond haired, blue eyed man didn’t like the fact Chibs was touching you. 

 “Brother, can you grab me a beer?” Jax asked Chibs, and swiftly moved closer to you as the other man went off to find Jax a beer. 

 “What, do you want to touch me too?” You teased Jax. 

 The man didn’t waste any time and pulled you flush against him. Your chests were now touching. 

 “You knew fine well what you were doing, dancing like that” he growled ever so softly in your ear. 

 “I was only dancing” you giggled whilst innocently biting down on your bottom lip. 

 “Yeah, just dancing” he nodded running his tongue over his bottom lip as he took the joint out of your fingers. 

 Soon enough Chibs returned, standing behind you with his chest pressed against your back, he passed the beer over your shoulder to Jax before resting his hand on your hip. You were well and truly sandwiched between the two guys. 

 “Wanna dance Chibs?” you smirked, tilting your head to look up at him. 

 “With you lass, I’d do anything” he grinned squeezing your hip. 

 You knew before you started this master plan the chase would be fun, but now you were putting the plan in place it was hotter than you thought, having two guys getting jealous at the other ignited something in your core and you didn’t know how long you could keep it up. 

 You grabbed Chibs’ hand and dragged him to the middle of the floor. As you did that, you looked back to see Jax giving you both daggers. You waggled your finger at him in a ‘come here’ motion and he put down his beer and padded over. 

 At this point Lyla was dancing with her old man Opie not too far from you. You had Jax behind you, and Chibs in front, and god it felt good. The heat radiating from them both made you tie a bow at the front of your shirt, showing off even more of your red lace bra. 

 Jax put his hands on your hips, and Chibs held your shoulders and you held his. You shuddered at the sudden touches, you grinded against Jax, making sure not to leave Chibs out, by running your hands up and down his arms. The 3 of you completely lost in the middle of the floor. 

 “I think you are paying Jackie boy a bit too much attention lass” Chibs whispered huskily in your ear. 

 “We can’t have that now can we” you giggled as you spun around so Chibs was now behind you. Even from the loud music you hear the almost animalistic growl that left his lips as your ass ground against his groin. Jax’s eyes were completely hazed over, partly from the buzz from the joint and partly from lust. 

 “Red suits you baby” Jax winked as his fingers ran just under the material causing a breath to get caught in your throat. 

 Soon enough the song came to an end, and you were starting to get breathless from the dancing and the heat that was radiating from the boys. Lyla walked passed you rolling her eyes at the fact that you had both the president and Vice President of the club practically fighting for your attention.

 “Darlin you are gonna have to choose who you want because you are driving me crazy” Jax breathed in your ear nipping it softly. 

 “Actually I don’t have to choose” you giggled. 

 Both men stared at you dumbfounded. 

 “What are you saying?” Chibs asked as he manoeuvred you back over towards the bar where it was a bit quieter. 

 “I’m saying, I don’t want to choose between you, because I want you both. Together”.

 This rendered both men speechless. They both looked at one another as if asking ‘should we do this’. 

 Jax was the first to break the silence. “Are you sure? You know we won’t go easy on you”.

 “I don’t want you to go easy on me, I’ve wanted this for a while, and tonight I thought fuck it, I’m going to do it” you were starting to become very confident and needy and you showed this by grabbing one hand of each man and leading them to one of the rooms through the back. 

 “A guess this is happening Jackie boy” Chibs nudged Jax playfully. 

 Letting go of their hands as you walked into the room, you had your back to them, in one quick motion you pulled your shirt off and started fumbling with the button of your shorts. After a couple of choice words your shorts pooled around your ankles. Stepping out of them you turned to face both guys, their jaws pretty much hit the ground as they drank in the little red number you were rocking. 

 Lifting your leg up onto the bed you seductively ran your hands down your leg to untie your boot, quickly doing the same to the other one. 

 Looking over your shoulder, both Jax and Chibs were stood there staring, casting your eyes down you smirked at the tightness in both their jeans. 

 “Well boys” you whispered seductively “you just gonna stand there or what?”. 

 As soon as the words left your lips the Kuttes were off, and their clothing was being tossed around. 

 Chibs was the first one to make a move, his hands ghosted down your sides, as he placed a few hot kisses down your neck, causing a small moan to escape your lips. Between the assault on your skin and feeling his hardness behind you, you felt the heat starting to pool between your legs. 

 Grabbing Jax’s chain you pulled him closer to you before slamming your lips against his so forcefully, your teeth clinked together. Your hands found their way into his hair tangling in the blond locks. 

 You knew by the morning you would be sore, tired and skin would be littered in little purple reminders of this night. One thing was for sure you knew you would be coming back for more. 

 Slipping your hand behind you, sinking it into Chibs’ boxers, you wrapped your hand around his length causing him to growl against your skin. A sudden chill ran across your chest causing your nipples to harden at the change of temperature. Jax took one of the hardened buds in his mouth making you moan, the feeling of him nipping, along side the hot kisses Chibs was placing down your neck was driving you wild and both of them knew that as your body squirmed under their touch. 

 “We haven’t even started yet love and ye are a whimpering mess” Chibs smirked against your skin as his hand slipped under the only bit of clothing left on your body. 

 Running his fingers through your slick folds, you felt your knees buckle under you, luckily Jax stopped you falling. Squeezing your eyes closed as Chibs teased your clit. 

 “No open your eyes darlin’” Jax grinned looking up at you. 

 “Fuck” you breathed leaning back into Chibs as his fingers worked magic, you were coming apart at the seams and fast. 

 Soon enough you had been thrown on the bed, on all fours. Chibs was stood behind you and without warning slammed into you making you scream in pleasure. There was nothing gentle about his thrusts, each one hitting the spot every time. Whilst you were distracted Jax grabbed your face in his hands forcing you to look at him. 

 “You gonna take my cock like a good girl” he smirked as he tugged on his dick. 

 Words were a struggle so all you could manage was a nod. 

 “Good girl” he winked as you took his hard member in your mouth, gagging every so often. 

 With every thrust it took you closer to the point of ecstasy, the high you were feeling was unlike anything else you had ever felt. Suddenly both boys stopped and pulled out causing you to whimper at the sudden feeling of emptiness. 

 “Ye holding in there lass?” Chibs chuckled as he ran his fingers across your back. 

 “Yeah” you gasped, as Jax slowly slid into you. 

 The night was filled with many orgasms, a lot of moaning and screaming from all three of you. 

 Flopping back down on the bed you tried to catch your breath as Jax passed you a lit cigarette. 

 “Well that was something else” Jax yawned before placing a kiss on your bare shoulder. 

 “Hmm mmm” you mumbled. 

 “Come on lass lets get you cleaned up” Chibs smiled as he reappeared with a wash cloth. “Then we can sleep” 

 — — —

 Slipping out of the room, leaving box Jax and Chibs snoring away, you went on the hunt for coffee. Lyla spotted you instantly smirking at the state your hair was in. 

 “Fun night?” she winked passing you a mug of steaming hot coffee. 

 “Best night ever” you grinned as you sipped your drink. 

 “So the last thing I knew you had Jax and Chibs all over you and then all three of you disappeared” she said. You smirked at her as she connected the dots. “Wait BOTH of them?” 

 “Yeah both of them” you winked before turning your attention to the door. 

 “So that’s where my shirt disappeared to” Chibs laughed as he made his way over to you. 

 “You mean my shirt now” you smirked raising your eye brow at him as his hands found their way onto your shoulders squeezing away the tension. 

 “How you feeling’ this morning lass” he whispered placing a kiss on your forehead. 

 “I’m good” you nodded “sore but so worth it” 

 You handed Chibs your mug of coffee to share with you. “You’ll need that after last night” you told him with a wink. 

 Jax was next to emerge from the room. “I was wondering if you were sneaking out this morning cause you regretted last night” he smirked as his blue eyes twinkled as he looked at you. 

 “I have no regrets what so ever, and I know you boys don’t either with the way you were both huffing my name last night”

 Chibs spat out his coffee at your remark not realising Lyla already knew what happened. 

 “What, you think I wouldn’t tell my best friend about the best night of my life?” You giggled grabbing Lyla’s hand, and the coffee from Chibs and left the clubhouse to spill all the beans about the previous night. 

 One thing was for sure, you were going to make it a habit. It’s true what they say, 3 definitely was the perfect number.

[hanitrash]

love the chapter! attacking dug dealers tho? i would have hoped bucky would be more socially aware than that, given he grew up in poverty ;-;

Hello Nonny!

Thank you for reading and reaching out to me! I have two parts to my answer for you that I hope will help.

1) Bucky’s background: Bucky’s family had money. He himself did not grow up in poverty, though he would have been witness to poverty through Steve. 

During the depression, his family had a car while most people struggled. Remember the line from after the funeral “my folks wanted to give you a ride”? And how Bucky was always well-groomed, and his clothing always fit well, while Steve’s appearance was shabby, and unkempt?

In Civil War, on the plane, Steve makes a comment about Bucky blowing three dollars trying to win a prize for Dot. Want to know how much three dollars equals in 2020 after inflation? Forty-six dollars. That’s what he dropped without second thought trying to impress a girl, after presumably paying for food and tickets to rides and their transportation there. (https://www.usinflationcalculator.com/)

It’s my personal headcanon that he forgoes that family money when they start living together (in fanfic, of course, lol), in order to not make Steve feel bad about himself, and to prove that he’s not any better than anyone else--Bucky’s income and the cost of things will also be a factor at play in chapter five, as you’ll see. 

2) Bucky attacking drug dealers: I’m going to put this under a cut, because it’s mildly spoilery for coming chapters

Bucky is fully aware that he’s a wanted man, by both the remnants of SHIELD and HYDRA. He needs to find a way to blend in as he takes down the remains of HYDRA, but he also needs to find a way to get blood. So he searches out the “bad areas” of cities, the seedier areas where violence is commonplace, and where if he kills someone who isn’t a HYDRA agent they won’t be missed by society at large and won’t draw too much attention. He’s not out killing someone for selling pot, these are the meth dealers, the coke dealers, the ones lacing their stuff with fentanyl. 

In chapter three, we do see him kill someone, and his reasoning for it. Bucky is a vampire. But more than that, he’s a trained killer, has been one since WW2. He is not pure and innocent, and is selective about the people he does allow himself to kill while feeding. He goes out of his way in chapter six to try to make this abundantly clear to Steve: Bucky is a threat to everyone around him if he were to lose control of his vampiric needs again, like he did while under HYDRA’s control.

I hope this puts you a little more at ease? Or at least helps you understand Bucky’s actions and character in this fic.

#my fic #asks #vampire bucky #fic: Through the Darkness I Heard Your Voice #hani answers

[allicekitty13]

In 1987 Jasper and Alice meet at the local country club. With all the cards stacked against them can they find their way to happiness? 

Read On Ao3

Read On FFN

                     Let em' say we're crazy, I don't care about that.                  Put your hand in my hand baby, don't ever look back.                              Let the world around us, just fall apart.                       Baby, we can make it if we're heart to heart.

"Don't you have a shift today Whitlock?" The voice rousing Jasper from his sleep was accompanied by a dirty shirt being thrown at his head. The man opened one eye squinting against the bright sunshine currently streaming through his window to look at his best friend Peter leaning against the doorframe of his currently open bedroom door.

"Pete," The twenty-one year old groaned. "The fuck did we do last night?" Jasper remembered they'd decided to go out. He remembered Peter and Charlotte going off to do god knows what. Well, the man had a pretty good idea of what but preferred not to think about it. He definitely remembered the line of shots he'd done with his favorite bartender, Mara. But anything after his seventh Alabama Slammer was either extremely fuzzy or a black spot in his memory entirely. Judging by the way his head was pounding, the sick feeling in his stomach, and the intense craving for a nice greasy burger from McDonald's, it was really no wonder why he struggled to recall the events.

"We got drunk." Peter shrugged. "You know, like we do every Friday. But really man, you gotta get up. It's after noon."

"Haven't you any sympathy for the hungover?" Jasper rolled over as he spoke to lay on his stomach wanting nothing more than to close his eyes and sleep the condition off. Maybe to venture to the living room couch at some point and watch re-runs of sitcoms from the 70's on the sole TV in the apartment.  

"Not when I know you have to be at work in an hour. Rent doesn't pay itself, dude." With that, Peter left his friend alone to the misery of a bad hangover. Daring to open one eye, flinching at the still too bright sun, Jasper spared a glance to the digital radio/alarm clock sitting on the messy bedside table next to him. Although blurry, he could faintly make out the time of 2:13pm. That information caused him to awaken, fully sobering up in an instant.

Peter was right; he did in fact, have a shift soon. In approximately forty-five minutes soon. He would have to skip a shower, something his co-workers wouldn't be too happy about operating in such close quarters without air conditioning. That was nothing compared to the fancy customers he served at the country club who didn't exactly need an excuse to complain. Luckily it was Saturday afternoon, and most of his interactions would involve nothing more than shoving cans of Coors or Tab into coolers for the members to take out to the tennis courts or golf course.

Jasper threw on the polo style shirt he kept around specifically for the stuffy dress code required at the establishment and his cleanest, least beaten up pair of jeans. He quickly brushed his teeth and hopped into his beat-up 75' Gremlin hoping to make the thirty-minute journey in twenty.

Fate, as always, wasn't in the man's favor and he ended up being late. Only by about five minutes, but the glare Angela shot him when he finally arrived to take over the bar caused Jasper to feel as though he'd shown up hours tardier than expected. Once the irritated Angela rushed off to god knows where Jasper busied himself with making sure glasses were clean and everything well stocked for when the night shift arrived in five hours.

Of course, Angela being exceptionally organized and great at her job had, as usual, left very little for Jasper to actually take care of. He often wondered why she spent her time working at the club rather than going to college, but at the end of the day, they weren't really friends. The way Jasper saw it, her personal life was none of his business. If she didn't want to share, he wasn't going to ask. So with everything taken care of, the man figured he might as well venture over to the kitchen for a chat with the equally bored cook Emmett.

Jasper liked the slightly older man; he was a pretty solid dude. Emmett was trying to save up enough money to buy his girlfriend, Rosalie, an engagement ring. So a few months ago picked up a side gig working at the club as a fry cook. Emmett was hard-working, funny, and one of the most genuine people Jasper had ever met. They'd butted heads at first, having vastly different upbringing and thus outlooks on life. Still, over the past few months of working together at the establishment, Jasper found himself looking forward to Saturday shifts exclusively for their engaging talks.

Once he'd double checked to make sure there were no more menial tasks to take care of, Jasper swaggered into the kitchen and plopped upon an empty counter, ignoring the way his friend shook his head at the antics. They had a usual back and forth. Emmett warning the other man that if their boss were to walk in, not only would Jasper receive yet another meaningless warning about cutting his hair. Both parties would be lectured on how inappropriate it was for anyone, let alone an employee, to be acting so unprofessional in the workplace.

Of course, Jasper being reckless had received countless amounts of these warnings. The truth of the matter was that employees were hard to keep. High schoolers could only work so many hours, and most adults willing to take on such a job were quickly worn by the entitled attitude the customer's attracted to such an establishment possessed. Needless to say, turnover rates were high. Management couldn't afford to lose anyone for something like a haircut or unconventional seating choices.

So, as always, Jasper kept his place on the counter, chatting with Emmett about their respective weeks. Rosalie had recently taken a job at The Gap for an excuse to spend more time at the mall that her father couldn't argue with. Emmett had needed to replace yet another part on his frequently failing vehicle setting him back yet again on those engagement ring plans. And Jasper's band had finally scored an opening gig at one of the better-known bars in the area. Sure it wasn't headlining, but for the unknown musician, it was a big deal.

After just short of an hour of conversation, Jasper was in the middle of excitedly going rambling about his dreams of getting away from the California suburbs. Of how he wanted to pack up and head down to Los Angeles and the fabled Sunset Strip, when the bell at the bar counter rang, signaling a customer was waiting for his presence.

What he expected was another irritated woman, upset that she'd had to wait more than thirty seconds for another Tab. Possibly even a man who would chastise him because he paid hundreds of dollars for his families club membership. A fact that the members assumed meant they should somehow receive instant service. What he hadn't anticipated was the absolute goddess waiting patiently at the counter.

She was short, with permed chin-length black hair that she teased her fingers through as she leaned against the counter, talking animatedly with a younger girl. When he stepped behind the bar, she looked over at him with a bright, breathtaking smile. The girl uttered only four words, "Two Coke Classics, please." in her high pitched musical voice.  They were spoken pleasantly, and her attention had been redirected to him entirely, in stark contrast to what he was used to. Typically customers would bark their orders in the mans' general direction before immediately resuming conversing with their companions.

It could have been the breath of fresh air that her attitude brought. Potentially the reason may have been how entirely simple Jasper found it to get lost in her clear blue eyes. In either instance, Jasper must have stood frozen, staring for too long as the girl frowned slightly, her eyes glancing up at the nametag clipped to his shirt collar. "Jasper?" She spoke again, concern lacing her words rather than annoyance.

His name on her lips sparked him into action, "My apologies, ma'am." He finally spoke, reaching into the belly cooler behind him for her order with butterflies beginning to swarm in his stomach.